Eye Description:Light, almost faded, orange iris’, with equally faded light blue, almost fuzzy looking sclera.
Hair Description:At the moment of his incarceration, Max’s hair is very shortly shaved, and has faded back to it’s natural lilac color, but was previously dyed red to help him shroud his actual identity further.
Skin Description: A smooth, almost rubbery skin that is mostly black colored, with greyish/steel speckling adorning it across his body.
Scars, Birthmarks, or other Identifying Traits: The antennae that Nohvan usually have removed at the end of their return ceremony are still prominent on Maxamillian’s head
Facial description:
Description of Clothing/Armor: Max doesn’t usually stay in the same pair of clothes for very long, but the clothes he works in the most is his trusty faux fur lined jacket, fatigue pants and boots. The only part of his outfit that makes continual appearance is Max’s striking mask and it’s glowing lights. Using it to make his face virtually unknown amongst the criminal and civilian world alike, whenever he’s on business, he wears it, and takes it off when doing day to day errands as not to draw attention. Here and there are scratches and mark from previous encounters with combative guards. The mask has taken many hand to hand blows, and there is even a small dent near the top left of his forehead, from a bullet that romantically close to destroying the face behind the mask. Other than concealing his identity from most people that ever encounter him, the mask also functions to help shield his sensitive eyes from bright light, disguising his voice when necessary, giving him night and thermal vision, and having an in-house HUD to assist in navigation and day to day tasks.
Other than that, most clothes Max wears are concealing. Very little to no skin is shown, as the color and pattern of his skin is rare even among his own kind, not even considering the galaxy. In prison, though, his jumpsuit fit loosely and nothing covers his lower arms and hands, so of course, the guards, the authorities, and his cellmates know the pattern color of his skin at the very least.
Bionic Limbs/Synthetic Organs/Robotic Augmentations:Max’s left arm and part of his shoulder have been explosively removed in an accident and replaced by a cybernetic replacement. It moves and behaves as a natural arm, except of course with a bit more power and vigor, and it is sealed in a silicon ‘skin’ colored the same way as his natural skin. For the most part, when wearing his usual garments, his augmentation is not noticeable, and Max tries his best to keep it hidden. As far as he knows, no one besides he or his assistant know he even has it.
Weapons of Choice: White Wolf Plasma SMG - While not terribly accurate at longer ranges, its plasma technology makes it fairly quiet, and shoving the barrel in your target’s back when they aren’t looking makes for an exceedingly deadly, compact and easily concealable little powerhouse. Good for use in small ships, or security checkpoints with thin walls, the White Wolf gives Max a little punch for close range encounters when accuracy doesn’t count, but body count does.
GIMARX Machine Pistol a.k.a Vagabond - With a built in suppressor and compact size , the GIMARX is an ideal handgun for a vagabond smuggler to carry with him at all times. Accurate, powerful, and above all, quiet, this weapon is Max’s mainstay and one of his most prized possessions over him time exploring and smuggling throughout the galaxy. The longer he’s away from his weapon, the more he yearns to feel it in his hand once again.
Experimental RK - The ERK is a knife that is rare, and used by very few. Those that use it have seen and used their fair share of blades, even in this time plasma and ballistics weapons galore, the ERK is a weapon made for a low-profile, professional killer. With an unstable magnet in the handle and the press of a button, the blade of the ERK can be propelled outwards at blistering speeds, and can pierce a decent range of armor, old and new alike. Depending on how far the blade has gone, the user can also press a different button to then use the magnet to bring the blade back. Be careful not to hold the button though...The blade could end up flying right back at you.
Charges/Sentences: Put in Order of Severity:
Smuggling/Trafficking of Illegal Goods/Undocumented Lifeforms - Probably the one crime he’s committed too many times to count, the authorities every day find more and more smuggling cases to tag Max’s name on. Although a majority of his cases are of smuggling people across intergalactic borders and onto uncharted planets for a fee, there’s not much Max can say he hasn’t smuggled. Exotic animals, rare fruit tree seeds, outlawed pornographic material, and even that one shipment of explosives that took his arm with them. To give an official number, over 975 counts of smuggling illegal weapons/contraband, 1,356 counts of human/lifeform trafficking, and plenty more of less serious charges.
Murder - Max, like his counterparts, has committed his fair share of murders, mostly out of necessity, either to keep from being caught by the authorities or to keep his identity hidden and to keep it from being found out. Over the 14 years he worked, he’s only committed roughly 36 murders, mostly security checkpoint guards, interstellar security forces, and even some notable criminal kingpins that crossed him.
Kidnapping/Detaining without Consent - To avoid his kill count getting too high, Max has had to knock out and basically kidnap a few people here and there, only to dump them in far away corners of the galaxy and let them find themselves back. Either that, or maybe a few people needed some time locked in a closet before they could give Max the information he needed, The authorities say they have 14 counts of kidnapping, but Max knows he has quite a few more under his belt.
Aggravated and Non-Aggravated Assault - Those kidnappings mentioned above involved a lot of rough housing, that’s a given. Also under this category are the many, many security guards, police officers and such that he’s had to give the good ol’ frying pan to the back of the head so they wouldn’t know where he went.
Grand Theft Spacecraft (?) - Being a world-class human smuggler requires a lot of ships, and when you’re stingy and don’t want to spend your money, stealing is the next best thing, and Max has stolen quite his fair share of them. From single person craft to 15 person traveling vessels.
Skills:
Quick and Painless - Max is a silent quick mover and killer, and when he senses things have gone awry, he can quickly dispatch the nearest targets and get moving before they have time to react. Good for keeping attention low and time saved, especially when moving hot cargo. His impact softening skin and poisonous fangs make greats tools for him to excel at close combat.
Smuggler’s Sense - Max has a knack for finding the smallest places to hide in or to stash things in. He’s used and stolen a lot of spacecraft in his time, and he knows the in’s and out's of their nooks, crannies and other places to stuff contraband now. Even with using new ships or being in unfamiliar buildings, he can be pretty good at guessing where certain vents where lead or where he can slide his hot documents in order to pull them out somewhere else. Smuggling stuff for a while gives you a good sense of space, and how to utilize and exploit it.
Meticulous Housekeeper - Being forced into servitude by a rich human family has it’s perks. Max and cook, clean, and decorate like a fiend, not even to mention his medical training? Oh wait, did I mention they also used them as a nurse too? Nothing big like surgeries, but he’s become quite the whiz at stitching up cuts, stopping bleeding and can nurse you back from a bad cold like it was it job. Well, because it was at one point. Also, he can sing like there’s no tomorrow, but good luck on that one.
Torture Recipient in Practice - Not only did Max put up with being in the hold of a Maximum Octane raider group for about 15 years, he also lived with an abusive and manipulative family of humans that owned him, so at this point, having put it all past him, there isn’t much that can bother him anymore. Not that he doesn’t feel anything, he definitely does, but there are few, if any, ways to extract information forcefully, or to coerce him into acting against his will. What is it that they say about men with nothing to lose?
The Helmet isn’t just for Looks - Max’s nearly permanent mask has negated many of the things Nohvan’s have to worry about when it comes to lights and their eyesight, but along with that, has supplemented his abilities too. He can switch to thermal, night vision, or even a weak form x-ray to detect hollow spots in walls or things of that nature. Not to mention fairly bulletproof, the helmet also has a device to modulate Max’s voice, give him directions & help navigate charted space, and has a database to store important smuggling contracts or any other important information. The helmet, as if it wasn’t useful enough, has also been instrumental to keeping his identity a secret across the large networks on which he is known. Other than, of course, being known as the guy in the mask, but there are quite a few of those, aren’t there? Thankfully, since the helmet protects his vision, and doesn’t really do much to help him escape, the prison allows him to wear it even in incarceration, provided a guard searches through it on a regular basis to affirm that Max hasn’t smuggling or is hiding anything in it.
Flaws:
Who Am I? - Max doesn’t really have a sense of self anymore. He’s had time to reflect on his actions, what landed him in the position he’s in, and regret isn’t too far off from what he’s feeling. He let his own greed and devotion to his own self-righteous objective control him, and now it’s caught up with him. Is he a truly ruthless criminal, or is he the galaxy-wide hero he thought he was?
Catatonic - When left alone, or bored, for too long, or under extreme stress (which rarely happens), Max has a handy habit of just shutting down. It can be very difficult to draw him out of his stupor, and has it has required medical means to do so in the past. While hard for even Max to explain, the best words he’s put it in are “It’s like seeing my dreams and desires co-mingle with my fear and regrets, and get murdered by them. Like a lucid nightmare of sorts.”
Fear and Prejudice - Although he’d never admit it, Max has always had this gnawing urge in the back of his head to either fight or flee when dealing with humans, in just about any situation. Having dealt with roughly 18 years of abuse at the hands of various humans of all shapes and sizes, he’s understandably apprehensive about them. He wouldn't exactly call it hate, but more of a constant wariness of any humans around him or that try to do business with him.
Up Close and Personal - Max isn’t exactly the best at ranged combat. Even though his bionic arm could, in theory, help him hold a long weapon steady, Max has never been one for combat at a distance. Close combat is where he excels, and that’s about it. Assassinations, sniper missions, or long range firefights were never Max’s forte.
Not Everything is Made Of Steel - Aside from Max’s resilient mask and bionic arm, Max doesn’t carry very heavy armor, and he himself is rather ‘squishy’. He take take punches fairly easily due to his unique Nohvan skin, but things like bullets and knives still do quite the number on Max and his unfortunately average pain tolerance. He can handle pain, sure, but everything still hurts quite a bit for him.
Personality: Not quite a social butterfly, but also not quite socially inept, Max is man is speaks simply, eloquently at times, and always respectfully. He doesn’t exactly look like the most inviting person to have a conversation with, but he knows how to hold one up if need be. He’s more of a “Wait for someone to initiate.” Kind of guy. Max isn’t incapable of joking, he has some sense of humor, somewhere... Less of a giggling fit kinda of guy and a more of a “once-in-awhile-smirk-that-no-one-can-see-because-of-the-big-mask” type of man.
He’s seen and experienced too many stressful situations for them to make him panic anymore. He may not be able to sprout a genius plan on the spot, but he knows how to at least keep himself alive and plays the battles out to his strengths using his speed, stealth and cunning above all. No criminal is too insane, no personality too outlandish to bother him.
One of the few things that takes Max out of his comfort zone is, surprisingly, family drama. Anything regarding families, their bonds, the breaking up of families, and things of that manner always strike a chord with Max, as it reminds him that he was taken from his family before he even got to know them, and then forced into an abusive family, ya know, the usual. Seeing people tear families apart in the intergalactic slave trade especially infuriates him, nearly enough to kill, even if he genuinely doesn’t like doing it.
Finally rising from the vast seas of Noviah, the yet unnamed Nohvan child felt the antenna on his head give him a tug, pulling towards a coastline that was still many day of swimming away. Driven by pure instinct and foolhardy determination, the child swam. The young boy swam with great vigor for three days, and was met with jubulous celebration on his arrival. There, in the small village, he had finally met the source of the immense tug in his head; a beautiful young Nohvan woman, who immediately scooped her child into her arms the moment she laid eyes on him. Against the mundane greens and browns, the child stood out, his black skin adorned in grey splotches, he was different, but this mattered not. His unique skin and striking eyes only made for more intense and vigourous partying from every member of his village, including the child, who had just barely learned how to party himself. For two days, the village held great celebration, but the third day held much more sinister plans in mind.
While distracted by the return of one of their young, in the surrounding wildlands and stars sat a force of men and women intent on using this celebration for their own nefarious objectives. Early into the dusk on the third day of celebration, these vile men and women pounced on their occupied prey, killing what they wanted, and taking anything else. A young Nohvan, fresh from the brine bath, was especially valuable to these people. The child would sell for top dollar, or would make for a valuable asset in their army of slaves. Whichever way one looked at it, that child was worth more to them alive than dead.
Time spent in the hands of Maximum Octane is not time spent peacefully. Some days were better simply verbal abuse from some of the more aggressive members, but nothing much more than barking commands at him. Other days were misery. Beatings for making mistakes in combat training, beatings for making mistakes when handling the food of the crew, beatings just because the crew needing something to hit. While some members had the good mercy to simply leave the captives alone and move on to murdering and pillaging other places, some did not, and these some provided for some of the young Nohvan’s worst nightmares and biggest scars.
The young Nohvan was, in fact, not the only one of his kind that had ever been in the captivity of Maximum Octane either. Old Nohvans, young Nohvans, even once, an, albeit dead, parasitic Nohvan could also be seen being dragged around and abused on the ship. None of them, although, ever really tried to communicate with the frightened, black and grey child of their own kind, always turning their backs or faces when they saw him. Other than of course appearances of skin and face, age and name, there was one unmistakable difference between every other Nohvan on the ship and the young child: where all the other ones had scars or small bumps on their heads, instead, in the same place, sat an antennae on the young one’s head. While all of these Nohvan’s had received their own names and had their independence granted to them via removal of their antennae, the child had done neither. While the other Nohvan’s felt their hearts and souls tug them towards their homes, the child felt his head pull and yank him in the direction of his mother, who had taken up residence in a cocoon many leagues below the ocean.
The pull was weaker than before, but still there.
Finally, the cycle was broken. The nameless had finally made two new friends, of his own kind. A set of sisters, distinctly colored like him, taken from their villages young, like him, but yet, they were different. Their antennae were absent, they had been given names, and they were both of a light, rare pink skin tone. Takakiko & Onimani were the first Nohvan’s to actually communicate with the otherwise outcasted, nameless young boy. He was older than them, but not by a lot. At this point, though, age didn’t matter any more. Anyone that was nice enough to say a word to him was nice enough in his book. In the 13 miserable years he had spent playing servant and mercenary in training, he finally had a reason to wake up and leave his cell. Amongs the browns, greens, beiges that usually filled the ship, the light, soft tones of pink that awaited the nameless were enough to brighten up his life. As to be expected, though, this joy was short lived. Soon, the raiders of Maximum Octane tired of having to deal with their sluggish, easily distracted Nohvan servant, and sold him off to the highest bidder.
At the age of 15, a nameless adolescent Nohvan was sold to the Fitzgeralds, a wealthy Human family who had a taste for expensive, young alien butlers. And he was already so well trained, with a cute little antennae to boot!
The pull was weaker than before, but still there.
With his twin companions gone, and ripped from the slaver ship he had known for a majority of his life, Corbin, as his new owners aptly named him, was seemingly on a strange planet, but with an ever so familiar enemy: humans. These people weren’t mercenaries or raiders, but they weren’t much better when it came to how they treated the help. Verbal abuse, physical abuse, but in a different flavor: higher tax bracket. At least the raiders had the common decency to feed him, his new owners forgot to do it fairly often. “The Help can help themselves, too,” was their usual go to excuse for when he asked why they refused to feed them. Hard to help yourself with locked cabinets and a pair of eyes over your shoulders wherever you went. So, Corbin took matters into his own hands, quite literally. Every chance her got, Corbin would snatch handfuls of food, scraps or straight out of the pan he was cooking in, it didn’t matter. It all went in his pockets, in his jacket, any space he could find to hide things, food was placed there. The Fitzgeralds found it strange they were eating so much more than usual, but they could always buy more than enough food to replace it.
Corbin never did know what made this particular family so rich, but, whatever it was, it made them enemies. Threats of assault and death could sometimes be found displayed on the holographics of the house, dead animals left on the steps of their porch, things of that nature. Some barbarians went so far as to even hand write death threats, and leave them tucked in spots around the property. It always shook Corbin to the core to find one of them, especially when they mentioned him.
“FREE THE KID”
“SINFUL SLAVERS WILL DIE”
“ONLY THE BUTLER WILL SURVIVE”
These were a few of the words Corbin made out scribbled wildly on a few sheets of paper, before his handlers would snatch them from him, and berate him for touching him. He always thought the threats were scary, imagining a crazed Human or Gorgas breaking in the house late a night, and leaving the family a bloody mess. Being in such a vulnerable position made him squirm, the deaths of the Fitzgeralds, not so much. From the abusive husband, to the demented wife, and their two little sadist, all of them represented loathing for Corbin. He hated the name they gave him, too. It sounded like someone that was always on the verge of dry heaving was trying to call him Corey.
Anyways, those trusty notes proved to be that of non-fiction, and one lucky night, one of the Fitzgeralds, one of their little cherubs, left a window opened and unlocked when the family went to sleep, and that represented an opportunity to someone. During his usually restless and light sleep, sounds of muffled shuffling in the next room gave Corbin a bit of jostle. Immediately, his imagination went crazy, images of a blood spattered, crazed murder entered his head. His hand rushed to the hollow tube of his bed frame, drawing a small knife he had taken from the kitchen unnoticed once. His hands shook as he held the blade close to his chest, slowly approaching his door to investigate the noise outside.
Before his hand could turn the knob, though, it turned itself, and Corbin watched in horror as the door slowly opened, and in walked...a cloaked woman? Her gaze went from bed, immediately to Corbin across the room from the door. She saw his knife, and immediately pointed her firearm at him. His shaky hands finally gave in to their better senses, and immediately dropped the small knife, trying their best to see which could reach the ceiling first.
“You’re not human. You’re their little indentured servant aren’t you?” The woman spoke. As Corbin’s sensitive eyes adjusted to the light that flooded the room, he noticed the wrinkles on the woman’s face. She wasn’t a young assassin. Her eyes had experience in them.”Can you speak English, kid?”
“W-what exactly is an indentured servant?” Corbin sputtered out.
“Do they treat you badly and make you do things for them, for nothing in return?” The woman asked, the pistol relaxing, but not leaving Corbin.
Corbin, the indentured servant, he had just figured out, nodded silently.
“Did they promise your freedom eventually?”
Corbin shook his head wordlessly.
“Then, that would make you a slave, actually. Come with me kid.”
Corbin, the salve, he had just figured out, followed obediently as the woman turned and left the room.
The duo entered the living room, where each member of the family sat, bound with rope and energy cuffs. Two men stood in the room among them, peering out of the windows, occasionally kicking the family members if they got too loud. The woman walked Corbin in front of the family, and then all began to murmur and try desperately to get Corbin to provide them assistance. Yet, he stood, observing them.
“Which one treated you the worst, kid?”
Corbin, eyes locking with those of the husband, raised a single finger and pointed at him, only to the dismay of the entire family, who responded with a cry, especially the man in question. The woman grabbed the pointed hand, and stuck her pistol in it, rising another quickly stomped out panic from the family.
“Kill him, kid. You’re old enough, you have to start standing up for yourself.”
Eyes locked with the husband, Corbin saw not only Fitzgerald, but he saw the raiders of Maximum octane. The drill sergeant that always beat him, the pilots who always used him as a foot rest, the men who sold him away from his only two friends. Many faces appeared over one, and every lock broke. Tears streamed down Corbin’s face, and his grip on the gun grew tighter. Mr.Fitzgerald joined him in tears, but his were sour. They weren’t the tears of man who had wished he couldn’t have done differently. They weren’t tears of remorse or self-disappointment. They were the tears of a man who was sorry he got caught.
Corbin’s finger found it’s way to the trigger and began to squeeze. Had it not been for the woman holding it steady, he would’ve shaken to much to ever hit anything he aimed at, but luckily, before he knew it, he had pulled the trigger far enough, and the pistol jumped. His eyes rang, and he turned away from the bright flash that pounced from the barrel.
His head slowly turned back, as the screams and cries of wife and children became audible again. Crimson streamed from Mr. Fitzgerald’s chest as his eyes rolled back. The young Nohvan exhaled. At that point, he had freed himself. He was no longer Corbin, he was no longer a slave. He had become nameless once again, but this time, he had the freedom to name himself.
With the Fitzgerald’s dead, the no 18 year-old Nohvan no longer had owners, no more eyes watching over his shoulder, nor more hands on his body. He had a mentor now, and her name was Comet. She was a roaming thief and murderer, who, according to the woman herself, “Only targeted the rich assholes who deserve to have it all taken from them.”
“Well, if you’re going to be my little sidekick, I need something to call you. What’s your name?”
“The Fitzgerald’s called me Corbin, but-”
“But you don’t want their name do you?”
The young Nohvan shook his head.
“Then what do you want me to call you?”
“What’s a good name?”
“I can’t choose for you, kid. What’s the coolest name you ever heard?”
“Maxamillian? He was one of the captains on a slaver ship I was on.”
“That’s not an awful name. So, I guess you’re Maxamillian now, huh?”
Maxmillian nodded, and smiled. Now, his life sat in front of him.
Using the combat skills he had learned from Maximum Octane, the things he taught himself at the Fitzgerald house about hiding and stealing, Max found himself well in the life of the thief, and later a smuggler. First, snack foods and cheap trinkets out of exotic alien stores, next, he moved onto bigger things, such as personal electronic devices, cheap flick knifes. All the while he stole and smuggled, Comet was there to guide and teach him. Her curriculum centered around the ways she’d been taught to operate by her family members, to kill and steal out of necessity or righteousness. Only take from and kill those who could afford it. Max, though, had a different skill set. He had a knack for stealing valuable things, only to sneak them across town for the children who lives in alleyways and crevices. Smuggling become second nature to Max, and it synergized well with Comet, who always needed some more illicit things handled in a discreet manner.
Soon, petty thievery became too small for Maxamillian to accept. Comet was convinced she saw something of a natural talent in him, the way he nimbly handed even the bulkiest poackages, and always knew the most natural places to hide them. She struck a deal with the now young adult: She would start nabbing contracts for him, and he’d get the Wolf’s Share for any jobs she landed him. With his skill and her contacts in the criminal world, confidence in a rich and lavish future was oozing from the both of them. For once in his life, Max wouldn’t be the salve and beggar, he’d be the rich one. He’d get all the money the universe had to offer, no matter what sorts of packages he’d have to move. His newfound love for money, and Comets ever so familiar love for money mingled well, and they moved fast. It was big enough news that famous thief Comet had a new protege under her wing, some thought he was better than his mentor!
Word spread fast, and contracts followed at the same speed, each falling defeated to the quick and nimble up and comer in the trade. “Maxy Million” was become somewhat of a hot topic, for those that wanted to do business, and those who wanted him dead. He had handled enough jobs with enough finesse that he was offered the opportunity of a lifetime: An exclusive spot in the Bagrunners Clan of the Shepherds’ Guild.
If you needed something smuggled, the Shepherds were who you went to. They seemed to know the galaxy inside and out, every nook, every cranny, every security checkpoint down to the light switch. No one knew how they had the information they did, but there were always theories. Government insiders, stolen blueprints, universe-class hackers. No one really knew the truth, though. The only thing that everyone did know for sure was that only the best smugglers and traffickers worked for The Shepherd's’ Guild, and Max was just invited to be one of their elite clans, the Bagrunners. The Bagrunners were known for their deadly efficiency and ghostly stealth, having moved some of the most valuable cargos ever seen in the galaxy. People, weapons, animals, anything that could be named could be smuggled.
The time Max spent in the Bagrunner’s clan was some of the best memories ever make, some of the worst injuries he’d ever endure, and the most money he’d ever see touch his hands in one day. Maxamillian was the pinnacle criminal. Rich, skilled, and expensive to hire. He and Comet profited immensely from the Shepherds’ Guild’s contracts, but something was beginning to change about the men around him. Usually, The Shepards didn’t trade heavily in people, and especialyl slaves. It was the only market that they didn’t have great power in. Although, soon enough, new leadership came in, and things began to change. Suddenly, the code of honor meant little to these men and women. The sole thing keeping these criminals separate from everyday criminals was slowly dissipating, and Max wasn’t the only one noticing. Soon, the smugglers that still refused to take human trafficking contracts were either being fired or eliminated from the guild. Heat was turned on high, and Max was starting to sweat. Comet urged him to leave before he was either eliminated or forced to conformed, but he maintained. Human trafficking was some new to him, and he decided it’d be easy to just work with the Guild for the moment rather than having to tell them nicely that one of their best smugglers was leaving.
Of course, things never could go well for Max for too long first package was a young human girl, being sold to a rich alien family on a planet in fringe space. A sickening feeling sat in the bottom of Max’s stomach during the whole trip, the transaction, and the trip back. His stomach was ready to hurl all the bile and food it could, as images of his own young self mixed with those of the frightened little girl he dragged across half the galaxy.
When he returned, he immediately resigned from the Guild. The Nohvan decided to take a few months to himself, relish his freedom from the deteriorating Guild and his large sums of money. After retirement life became too boring, he had Comet start flagging contracts for him again, and he was officially back on the radar. To be expected, it wasn’t too long until a shipment of supposed exotic fruit was actually laced with explosives, Max left with a little less humerus than when he accepted the contract.
With a new bionic arm in place, Max became more weary of the contracts he accepted. The Guild was obviously still out for him, and a little more of cautiousness was going to go a long way. He picked up lifeform trafficking again, but on a different note. The little girl he sold off before haunted him day to day, and he was determined to right his wrong. Instead of tearing apart families and selling children to abusers, he was going to be reuniting families and helping people find their way back to each other. Make sure no other children fell victim to the life he had fallen to.
The pull was weaker than before, but still there.
Years passed, families were reunited, others were broken. Men and women left behind widows and orphan, orphans found new parents, parents found their children, all at Max’s hands. All the while, his antennae always pulled him towards home. A home he was no longer welcome to. A home that wasn’t even his.
Soon, a mechanical mask took the place of his face for most of his days. Maxamillian was a man wanted not only by the authorities, but but his fellow criminals. You can’t steal slaves and return them home without a few slave drivers getting mad at you. You can’t steal business from one of the biggest trafficking organizations in the galaxy without a few smugglers getting mad at you. You can’t kill a few Law Enforcers without bringing down the wrath of galactic government down on you.
You can’t ignore that pull forever, Maxamillian.
You can’t keep killing fathers, mothers, and children, Maxamillian.
You can’t keep giving guns to people destroying families, Maxamillian.
You can’t run forever, Maxamillian.
You can’t ignore that pull forever, Maxamillian.
Even though they are all over Nohvia. They’re waiting for you, Million.
Don’t get caught, Million.
Personal Belongings: His custom made Mask/Helmet 500k Galactic Units/ OR just currency
Other:N/A
Theme song: N/A open to suggestions.
finally here. just posting to get it accepted, will go through a fully color it and edit for typos tomorrow, i really need to go to sleep.
also, credit to @Esoteric for all the amazing photomanipulation and holographic wanted poster
Brief Summary of their Home Planet: Lanuria is a terrestrial world, slightly smaller then the Earth. Like Earth it has a nitrogen/oxygen atmosphere, but unlike Earth about 85% of the surface is covered in ocean, with wet environments on rough terrain like rainforests and marshes covering most of the land. Scientific evidence suggests that the planet once had greater land coverage and was in fact home to another species of similar intelligence to the Lanun which went extinct when the oceans grew to cover most of the planet for unknown reasons. Despite the lack of space, the amphibious Lanun have developed the technology to build sprawling urban centers on both land and sea, many of which serve as cultural and cosmopolitan trade hubs throughout the galaxy.
Lanuria possesses a thriving ecosystem, with most of the deeply diverse wildlife being amphibious or entirely aquatic. Among the more famous animals inhabiting Lanuria are Sovacs, amphibious pack creatures described as something of a cross between a wolf and a shark, and Yeronids, a strange amorphous creature that exist both in the wild and as domesticated house pets. Objectively the most famous animal on Lanuria, however, is the Losynek Drake, a draconic sea creature well-regarded for its grace, beauty, and intelligence. The Drake is held with such high regard by the Lanun that it has come to serve as a symbol not just for the planet but for the Lanun people as well. Using advanced eco-friendly technology, the Lanun have been able to build a civilization on their world that coincides peacefully with the myriad of wildlife that inhabits their world.
Empires This Race Belongs To: Most Lanun fall under the banner of the Lanurian Collective.
Member of the Galactic Federation?: Yes!
Number of Colonies: 16
General Appearance: Hailing from an aquatic world, the slightly diminutive and incredibly lithe Lanun share similar biological and physical features with aqautic creatures across the galaxy. They are warm-blooded amphibians who lay clutches of eggs, often up to a dozen, rather then having live births. Typically standing around five and a half feet tall, the Lanun have smooth, sleek skin that comes in cool, aquatic colors, with retractable flaps under their arms and on the sides of their necks and shoulders that come in more vibrant shades. They have slim but wiry musculature, and their four fingered hands are webbed and end in claws, while their digitigrade legs end in three-toed cloven hooves.
A capacious set of lungs among other features allow them to hold their breath underwater for nearly an hour at a time, and their four eyes, normally colored in the same vibrant shades as their arm flaps, can see incredibly well both below and above the waves. The Lanun also have pointed horns on their head, and while they are omnivores most Lanun prefer high-energy diets of meats and starches. They are also built for wet environments, and need special treatments in order to survive for long periods of time in arid or dry regions. Males and females are sometimes difficult to distinguish from one another, though males usually have more pronounced horns then the females and a slightly more top-heavy build.
Average Life Span: They have a similar life span to humans, though they reach adulthood earlier around the age of 14.
Galactic Rarity: The Lanun are quite common in the Galaxy, especially in wet or terrestrial worlds.
Primary Governmental Structure: The Lanurian Collective is what can best be described as undergoing the transition from an imperial monarchy to a constitutional monarchy. Due to efforts both inside and outside of Lanurian society, a powerful head of state is being phased away in favor of elected councils and sub-councils who can better manage planetary affairs then a singular ruler. For the most part the Councils are the de facto heads of state for the Collective, though the royal family does tend to dictate the direction in which the Collective is going, so to say.
Brief Description of Culture: The Lanun are great believers in the power of change, harmony, and innovation. Always looking to the future, they tend to view the world around them in a state of flux, and that rather then fight the chaos it is best to take things as they come and to keep an open mind. It's not uncommon for Lanun to have wildly different views on how society and morality functions, and while the Lanun generally shun anything they believe would lead to oppression and stagnation, the only constant thing about Lanun culture is that it's not constant at all. To ebb and flow is to be Lanun, one popular saying goes, and there is no greater crime then to fight the tide.
Special Traits/Racial Abilities: -Highly dexterous, natural swimmers and climbers. -Very good endurance, able to survive without oxygen for an hour. -Highly energy efficient, can run and perform physical activities for much longer then most species, including humans. -Excellent eyesight both above and below water. -Vulnerable in dry environments without special treatment.
Race Age: Roughly 250,000 years old.
Brief History of the Race: One of the younger races of the Galactic Federation outside of the humans, the Lanun had only just begun exploring planets when they made first contact with the Federation, leading to a veritable explosion of technology that allowed them to quickly ascend to the galactic stage. Thanks to a high population growth and their obsession with change and innovation, the Lanun quickly established themselves as one of the major races in the galaxy, if not the most stable one.
Major Technological Innovations/Inventions: While it is not a uniquely Lanurian innovation, the Lanun are considered pioneers in the creation of highly efficient, eco-friendly technology, with their innovative architecture, inventions, and city designs being used by races and empires all across the Federation to create strong, productive colonies and settlements. They are also highly regarded for their work in modern cybernetic augmentation, and are credited with the invention of the Ladovir Neural Interface, which has made both advanced and generic cybernetic augmentation much safer and efficient.
Expanded Cultural Overview: In keeping with their philosophy of constant change, the Lanun do not enforce or insist upon a unified faith for their people. While there are a sizable minority of Lanun who chose to worship nature Deities from Lanuria, traditional religion as a whole has generally given way to a philosophical belief known as the Flowing Tide. It is a pseudo-humanist belief that is centered around the values of individual agency, rationality, and the willingness to accept change and flux as positive things in life. The Flowing Tide has some mild popularity among other species besides the Lanun as well, thanks to its accepting and egalitarian beliefs.
Despite their love of progression, the Lanun do have a plethora of traditions and celebrations centered around nature and the passing of time. Perhaps the most famous is the Lanurian Wave Festival, a week long celebration of the beginning of the traditional Lanurian calendar year. Dressed the streets, the buildings, and themselves in vibrant oranges and blues, Lanurians will congregate in their great cities and celebrate the coming of the new year with extravagant parades, music, dancing, and feasting. The spectacle is a sight to behold, and Lanun and non-Lanun alike flock to Lanuria every year just to experience the biggest and most extravagant Life Festival right in the Lanurian capital.
As a contrast to the pageantry of the Wave Festival, celebrations for the hatching and coming of age of Lanurian young are considered private affairs, restricted to close family and friends (which, given the high birth rate of the Lanun, is still an impressive size). The youth of the Lanun are often encouraged at a young age to explore the world and chart their own course, with the knowledge that they have a home to come back to and a family that will support them no matter what choices they make. Burials at sea are common for the Lanun, and funerals are seen not as somber, sad affairs but as celebrations of the life and accomplishments of the deceased.
The Lanun find that they get along well with other species thanks to the accommodating nature of their way of life. Shrewd and clever, the Lanun have a reputation as being the scientific 'heart' of the Federation, and their presence in diplomatic circles is notable as well. Their eagerness to pursue new technologies has led to some strife with more traditionalist views in the Federation as Lanun scientists struggle against what they feel are unfair restrictions, such as the heavy regulation of AI technology.
Lanun naming conventions are somewhat unusual. They are usually given three names, with the first being a family name, the second being the given name. A Lanun's third name is chosen by themselves upon reaching adulthood, and typically is chosen by their owners to reflect their interests, beliefs, or professions. It's not uncommon for a Lanun's third name to change constantly over their lifetime, and the practice has given a lot of grief to non-Lanun bureaucrats and officials who have to deal with that practice.
Expanded History: Much of the true history of the Lanun is descended from oral accounts and scant written records. Archaeological evidence, however, suggest that at some point in the past Lanuria was a great deal dyer then it once was, and that there was an intelligent humanoid species predating the Lanun that lived on the planet. Due to an ecological disaster, however, the sea levels rose to the position they are today, and the pre-Lanun species went extinct. Oral records and mythology tells that the Lanun were slaves to this precursor species, commonly called the Baniku, and that they came to replace them as the dominant species when the sea flooded and made the planet more habitable to them, though this account is obviously difficult to prove.
The Lanun spent much of their pre-industrial history as nomadic tribes and small kingdoms, living along the coasts, frequently clashing with one another over what little territory there was. Technology progressed at a slow but steady rate, and Lanun technology was at about the level of pre-medieval Europe when there was suddenly an unusually massive surge in technological advancement. Myth and legend attributes this to the work of brilliant kings and leaders as well as divine intervention, while historians believe that the sudden advance of technological growth might have come from an alien device that accidentally crashed on the planet. Whatever the cause, the technological growth allowed the Lanun to create industry and farmland in amphibious and eco-friendly structures without the massive amount of effort needed to make the land workable.
With the new technology came cultural and social advancement as well, and as what were once tribes began to group together in larger confederations, nation-states, and empires, the Lanun began sending out ships to explore the mysterious depths of space. They had already begun to extensively colonize their home system when an exploration pod launched by the Ranos Empire made first contact with the Galactic Federation. Emboldened by the discovery that they were not alone in the galaxy and eager to see the benefits of becoming a part of the Federation, the Empress of Ranos began to make a grand push for unification of the Lanun. Thanks to her impressive negotiation skills (and a bit of help from the Federation), the Lanun managed to unite without a bloody civil war, and the three great powers signed the Collective Accords, uniting the three dominant powers under the banner of a new Lanurian Collective.
Other: (Nothing yet but I'm definitely going to be putting more stuff here when it comes to me :P )
Prisoner Data Form
Kao Tesra Em'dyn
Aliases: Ghost
Prisoner ID Number: 4304
Species: Lanun
Gender: Female
Age: 29
Former Faction: Unaffiliated
Physical Description:()
Height: 5'7''
Weight: 93 lb.
Eye Description: Crimson
Hair Description: N/A
Skin Description: Light Blue
Scars, Birthmarks, or other Identifying Traits: Tesra's arm flaps are colored in a vibrant shade of red to green. She has heavy scarring on her right shoulder and upper chest
Description of Clothing/Armor: When not dressed to blend in or perform subterfuge, Tesra generally wears leathers and protective gear typical for those who spend time in space, as seen in the above security photograph. On infiltration or combat missions, Tesra can usually be found wearing a Lanurian-ized variant of this armor sans vest pouches. Under the hood she tends to wear glare-reduction goggles with a collapsible protective facemask as seen here in case things get hairy.
Bionic Limbs/Synthetic Organs/Robotic Augmentations: Tesra has a bionic replacement for her arm just below the shoulder, and both of her right eyes have been given bionic replacements as well that can see in infrared. Her bionic arm has a hidden attachment for shooting a magnetic grappling hook, and the joints in her arms and legs are reinforced to allow her to climb and drop from a height more easily.
Weapons of Choice: -LF-7 Kidelk Rifle, modified: A collapsible, semi-automatic sniper rifle adapted from a hunting rifle design, the Kidelk has a seven-round clip and comes standard with a built in suppressor and an electronic firing pin, making it well suited for infiltration and assassinations. Tesra modified her rifle to fire specialized knockout darts in addition to your standard conventional ammunition. -FD-X5 Eastwood: An older human design, the Eastwood is a standard twelve-round pistol, simple but reliable. Not to mention it fits better in her webbed hand. Comes with a detachable suppressor and laser sight, as well as concussive ammunition for nonlethal take downs. -Shaped Charges: Effective and simple, these are Tesra's ace in the hole for dealing with pesky obstacles that can't be avoided, snuck around, or hacked into. Comes in three fun flavors; HE, EMP, and Concussive. -Shunt: Tesra's built in CPU can help her break into most computer networks, but if the firewall is too good or the system is an older one, Tesra can force her way into the system with a retractable metal spike in her bionic hand that she can jam into the innards of a computer system to aggressively make a connection. Needless to say, a retractable metal spike in your hand makes for a pretty good defensive melee weapon as well. Just ask Robocop.
Charges/Sentences: Tesra is currently serving time for seventy four counts of grand theft and burglary, several counts of second-degree murder and assault, and a plethora of minor charges for property damage and other minor crimes. Due to the sheer volume of the charges brought against her in multiple courts of law, she has been transferred to the LMSIF to serve a virtual life sentence.
Skills: -Must Have Been Your Imagination: Tesra is an unrepentant expert at making sure you don't know where she is. Whether it's slipping past a guard unnoticed, losing pursuers around a tight corner, or fishing a key out of an unsuspecting sucker's pocket, Tesra's ability to become and remain undetected is impressive to say the least. -Tes Be Nimble, Tes Be Quick: Any obstacle that can be removed with a bit of athleticism, speed, and good reflexes is no match for someone like Tesra. Comes standard with being an expert, thief really, and her cybernetics, equipment, and Lanun physiology make it so much easier. -Lock? What Lock?: What kind of thief would Tesra be if she couldn't pick a lock? Needless to say, Tesra is quite adept at bypassing both physical security systems such as safes and locks and electronic systems as well, thanks to the hacking software stored in the computer on her brain. -It's Nap Time: Sometimes there's just a guard or a bystander that you just can't slip by unnoticed. A well-aimed shot or a sneaky attack from behind can take care of those problems, and luckily for Tesra she's quite good at both of these. -Right Where I Want You: Stemming from her days as a cunning businesswoman as well as a cunning thief, Tesra has a knack for saying just the right thing or doing just the right action to annoy, frustrate, or simply piss someone off enough for them to take a swing at her. It's handy for creating a distraction, and people tend to get careless and spill precious information when they lose their heads. -It's All In The Details: As Tesra can attest to, pulling off the perfect heist takes meticulous thought and careful observation. To that end, she is always quick to notice even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant observations and use them to her advantage.
Flaws: -Lone Sovac: A master thief works best on their own. Tesra has no strong aversion to working in a group, but she clearly isn't comfortable with the idea of relying on someone else, or someone relying on her, when she's working. -Don't Hit Me I'm Squishy: Tesra's sneaky, quick, and a damned good shot, but she's not exactly Rocky Balboa. She can take a hit or two, but in a drawn out firefight or face-to-face brawl she's not going to last very long. -Water! Need Water!: Like most Lanurians, Tesra doesn't bode well in dry, hot environments without special equipment or medication. -Purveyor of Shenanigans: What's the harm in a little mischief now and again? That seems to be Tesra's motto on missions, as she will often go out of her way to do something risky or time consuming either to show off or just to amuse herself. Knocking out a bodyguard with a leap across a dangerous platform rather then safely sneaking up behind them, taking the time to position two bodies so one has his face in the other's crotch, that sort of thing.
Personality:
Session #01 - Doctor Marinov
Marinov: "Please state your name for the record." Tesra: "Kao Tesra Em'dyn. Miss Kao, if you're naughty. What's yours?" Marinov: "Do you know why you are here?" Tesra: "Wow, that's a odd name for a human, Mr. Do You Know. Were you raised by Trevalians or were your parents just new age we-" Marinov: "That was a question, not an answer, Tesra. Do you know why you are here?" Tesra: "Well the guards said I was due for a psyche evaluation so they dragged me-" Marinov: "Why you are AT THIS FACILITY, Tesra. As it what CRIME were you charged with." Tesra: "Oh. Well, theft. Lots and lots of theft. Kind of surprised you don't know that."
Doctor's Note: Subject seems belligerent and disruptive, possibly directed towards authority figures?
Opening interview redacted for brevity, besides continued backtalk from subject no unusual activity reported.
Marinov: Right, I want you to take a look at this picture and tell me what you see. Tesra: Looks like an ink stain. Brief pause Marinov: Yes, it's an ink stain, but I'm asking what it looks like to you. Tesra: I already told you, it looks like an ink stain. Marinov: ...No, I mean, does this remind you of anything? Tesra: Well it reminds me I have to do laundry later. Marinov: Stop thinking of it as a stain, what does this appear to RESEMBLE, Tesra? Tesra: It appears to resemble an ink stain. Man, this is the easiest test I've ever- Marinov: I KNOW IT IS AN INK STAIN, THE IDEA IS TO LOOK AT THE STAIN AND TELL ME WHAT THE SHAPE OF IT REMINDS YOU OF. NOW WHAT DOES THIS LOOK LIKE TO YOU? Tesra: It looks like a mustard stain.
Interviewer assaulted the subject at this point, terminating the testing. Dr. Marinov was severely reprimanded and put on suspension following the incident. Subject was treated for mild bruising and reassigned to new specialist to finish interview.
Session #01b - Doctor Kaminski
Kaminski: Good evening Tesra. I apologize for Marinov's behavior, he was always a bit temperamental. Tesra: Eh, no worries. Going to be feeling this for the next few days though. Kaminski: Right, how about we continue where we left off before. What does this resemble to you? Tesra: Hmm...looks like two people having a hushed conversation. Kaminski: And thisone? Tesra: Hey it looks like me! Kaminski: Just thisone left... Tesra: Oh, that looks kinda like me sneaking up behind a guard to scare him! BOO!
Doctor's Note: There is a clear predilection towards secrecy and isolation, possibly narcissism as well. Whether this is just a byproduct of her criminal activities or not is uncertain.
Kaminski: Alright, we're going to try some word association now. I'll say a word and you tell me what it reminds you of, okay? Tesra: Sure, sounds fun. Kaminski: Dog Tesra: That's a pet thing right? Uh, friend! Kaminski: House Tesra: Safe Kaminski: Night Tesra: Shadow Kaminski: Thief Tesra: Master! Kaminski: Light Tesra: Search Kaminski: Mother Brief pause Kaminski: Miss Tesra? Tesra: I'm sorry, it's just...I miss her sometimes, you know. *sniffs* Kaminski: I understand. Tesra: Can...c-can I get a hug? Hug provided.
Doctor's Note: Remainder of evaluation removed for brevity. Results inconclusive but the subject comes across as mentally sound and well-adjusted, given her background. Recommend continued sessions to complete analysis.
Supplemental: Kao Tesra Em'dyn attempted to escape from the facility shortly after the above session concluded. Security camera footage reviewed after the incident revealed that Tesra had lifted security cards from both Marinov and Kaminski during their respective interviews, which were used to facilitate her escape attempt. All further testing is to be suspended, as the subject is clearly much more manipulative and clever then previously indicated. Frankly you should have known better then to trust a dangerous convict like this one, even if they aren't hardened psychopaths like Meiner's patient. -Dr. Herrman
Supplemental 2: Actually I believe her escape has given us some valuable insight, as in all likelihood she would have made it even farther if she didn't stop at the kennels to try and rescue her pet Sovac. While she is clearly more clever and crafty then she lets on, I believe her affection for the pet shows that there might be some truth to the behavior she displayed in the interviews, possibly a side that she doesn't show to people she doesn't entirely trust. We're going to need further testing if she's supposed to be part of this team you keep talking about, anyway. -Dr. Kaminski
Personal Biography: Kao Tesra Em'dyn, the third child of a clutch of eight, was born on the Lanun world of Eolo, a colonial world old enough to have a few reasonably impressive cities but young enough to still be growing and expanding rapidly. Fortunate enough to have a happy childhood and a well-adjusted family, Tesra was always a troublemaker and a prankster, gleefully playing jokes on her siblings and causing mischief wherever she went. While her behavior was never mean-spirited in any way, Tesra's parents didn't want their daughter to squander her intelligence on practical jokes, so they sent her to the Lanurian Academy to get a quality education.
While it didn't cure her roguish behavior entirely, it did spark Tesra's interest in technology enough to pursue a career in electronics and computers. While at school, she befriended a business savvy Vaxir by the name of Cardaleer Echass Zadra who had the idea of founding a tech company to handle security and resources for new companies founded on developing colonial worlds. They agreed to work together to build such a company, returning to Tesra's homeworld after they graduated to found Kao-Zadra Securities. KZS did well the first few years, and Tesra was happily busying herself with the technical aspects of the job, even going so far as to install a neural CPU to help her interact with computers, while Cardaleer managed the actual business and finances. The company went through a few struggles, but together the pair of young upstarts weathered them like champs, and Tesra felt that with a loyal friend at her side, a respectable business, and an important role in society, things couldn't get much better.
Things instead got much worse. Unbeknownst to Tesra, Cardaleer had a very different motivation for founding KZS. Rather then securing the networks of colonial interests on Eolo and other worlds, the Vaxir had been selling security information to gangs and thieves for a tidy profit. Cardaleer made sure to hide all traces of his theft and transactions, especially from the happily naive Tesra, but he finally bit off more then he could chew when he sold network codes to the Switchblades, an intergalactic organized crime syndicate, not realizing that some of the codes he gave were incorrect. After the theft was exposed and the police began investigating the security leak at KZS, Cardaleer, always the crafty one, told the Switchblades that Tesra had been the one who botched the codes while simultaneously planting evidence and giving testimony that the codes leaked due to Tesra's incompetence rather then his own misdeeds.
Tesra had been visiting family in one of the less urban areas of Eolo when all this had happened, and was kept in the dark about the theft thanks to some behind the scenes work by Cardaleer. When she was taking the shuttle home, eager to get back to work after some time away, a stranger in a dark coat approached her. Before she could react, the man snarled at her that she should not have crossed the Switchblades, drew a gun, and fired six times into her upper chest and shoulder. Tesra was rushed to the nearest medical center, barely holding onto life, when the police came to place her under arrest for the security breach. With the assassination attempt seemingly a confirmation of her involvement with the Switchblades, the case was rushed to trial and she was charged with gross negligence for the security leak. She managed to avoid prison out of sympathy for her condition, having lost her arm to the assassination attempt, but her life as she knew it was over.
Shunned by her family and friends and left poor, maimed, and with no future to speak of, Tesra's mind snapped like a toothpick. Her old, mischievous ways coming back in full force, Tesra came to the simple conclusion that she had died and come back to life, and that with the second chance she got she was going to do whatever the hell she wanted and have a damn good time doing it. Committing her first criminal action by hacking into the now defunct KZS servers, she did some snooping and quickly found out the real story behind her 'friends' misdeeds. No longer trusting the authorities to do the job, she passed on the information to the Switchblades, who were none too pleased about the deception. Shortly thereafter, Cardaleer mysteriously vanished, and Tesra was given a shiny new bionic arm by a 'distant relative'.
Realizing she had a knack for snooping around in places where she didn't belong, Tesra moved to Lanuria to lay low for a while and hone her newfound skills, starting small with pickpocketing and burglaries. As she got better at thieving and began to rake in more and more money, she used her computer skills to launder the money she was taking in and reemerged as a private investor, quietly putting her ill-gotten gains into legitimate businesses and investments to disguise the real source of her income. Her talents only improved in time, and as word of a mischievous prankster of a thief named Ghost began to spread through Federation territory, Tesra was happily living a life of luxury and all but thumbing her nose at the authorities who were trying to find her.
The law caught up to her on the end though. After years of tracking the elusive thief, the Federation authorities managed to lure Ghost into a trap, spreading rumors about a potentially massive payday and waiting for the thief to make her move. Tesra happily obliged, only to find nothing waiting for her but an empty vault and a veritable legion of law enforcement officers from across the galaxy. Much to their surprise, Tesra burst into laughter when she was caught and surrendered without a fight, reportedly telling the lead officer that the capture was "one the best pranks she'd ever seen in her life". With the sheer volume of crimes she was charged for, she was quickly transferred to the LMSIF to serve a virtual life sentence behind bars.
Personal Belongings: (THIS DOES NOT INCLUDE WEAPONS/ARMOR. -Lockpicking kit -Joy buzzer -Sovac treats -Fruity chewing gum -A set of markers -Silver locket necklace, damaged and missing a picture -Bag of marbles -LanuPlay ED, a handheld gaming device.
Other: Tesra has a lovely pet Sovac named Sigmund, and she'd love to take him on this adventure if the GM allows it. c:
@KaiserElectric It looks good, the pet can be allowed on the adventure. Accepted! You can place the sheet in the characters' tab along with the race sheet.
I believe that is everyone we've been waiting for, gonna close to new applicants. We got a full roster!
Amongs the browns, greens, beiges that usually filled the ship, the light, soft tones of pink that awaited the nameless were enough to brighten up his life.
Tbh I think this is my favorite for two reasons. I love cameos with my characters ^_^ and it sounds REALLY similar to the WoTM story I just put in.
I was jamming to Six A.M right, and this song came on. I thought of your character and oh man, might of been better of getting a gallon of ice cream and putting on Elliot Smith.
So here's my proposition for a theme song.
Alternatively, anything else they've performed. "Heart Attack" "Life is Beautiful" "This is Gonna Hurt" "Help is on the Way" are all goodies.
@EsotericNot bad, but I feel like the conflict that Max is facing is more of an inner conflict than one with those around him, like the song talks about.
I felt like the vibe to this could fit him, and the lyrics do sort of fit him as well.
And then I just wanted to put this song just because I like it and it has to do with death. Other than that, doesn't fit him at all lol.
This will probably happen later, on the ship, but I can't decide if Taka should explain what happened, or just kind of, deflect the questions and let him piece together that the real Takakiko is dead, and that she is technically Onimani.
Perhaps he knew their personalities well enough that he could figure it out, but she is a little screwy now, I'm sure she wouldn't have a personality he'd remember.
Though, she will probably recognize him.
I think Taka is going to call Max "Polka Dots" or "Dots" for short. ^-^
Alrighty, loving the IC posts! If I did my calculations right, then we are just waiting for @KaiserElectric and @dragonmancer to do their intro posts. How goes it for either of you guys?
