Oslo is a man of moderate size and frame, otherwise simple sinewy proportions corrupted by cybernetic enhancements. These modifications provide a similar effect to his face: he naturally has very soft and pleasant almost androgynous or effeminate features and skin that can be simply described as boyishly handsome. But they are warped, marked by alloys and plastics. His neck-length hair is jet black and typically shining with unwashed oils, though by contrast the rest of his face remains cleanly shaven with an almost unhealthily pale tone on his skin. Fearful of suspicion regarding the origin of his modifications, he will most usually wear a helmet or in civilian situations a keffiyeh with headset and sunglasses; his flesh remains tender and red wherever it meets machine with some points even being dead, black. Conversely, there are lumps of grafted-on skin upon him that hide elements of his augmentation. Often this will make showing emotion through facial expression or general body language difficult as skin and even muscle and bone struggles to take the desired positions when stretched across his modifications, not to speak of their morphing of the body in its resting position or the parts of himself he quite literally lost control of. Though this modification does not scream of its origins as indoctrination tech, an expert in the subject matter of reapers or Cerberus could get some measure of suspicions if given an opportunity for in depth examination of his person.
Armour and dress will alike usually be darker, containing just a little flair, but otherwise he doesn't put much care into clothing; unless desired for a disguise or similar occassion he is happy to wear flea marked hand me downs. His eyes were once a dark brown, but now have the whites replaced with black orbs glowing red at the pupil and green-blue through a few elements of core cabling.
Much like his personality his voice is rather erratic. When calm it is a soft and quiet base but excitement (regardless of positive or negative origin) will usually raise the pitch and give it either a grating or nasal timbre.
MOTIVATIONS AND OUTLOOK◢
Ossie is a confused man. He still dreams of reforming the systems alliance into a more assertive state readier to deal with its adversaries. The aliens in the Sol System demanding humanity bend the knee for their extraterrestrial interests are all squatters that must be ejected like the Quarians, by force if necessary. At the same time, with the world the way it is following the death of the reapers much of his past philosophy and goals are null and void leaving him somewhat aimless as humanity no longer fears extinction. Still, the longing to find community combined with fears of retribution over his past lead him to two main goals: accumulate capital to live off of in the immediate term, and find himself a new cell or the remnants of his previous one to advance the same goal he has had for years: defend mankind.
To this end, when he is not doing odd jobs to scrap for a meal he is happy to do whatever is needed as a volunteer in the reconstruction of Earth. Oslo fancies himself to be a hero just like his late mother was, and in all he does he first questions if what he does will make her proud of her son as she gazes down towards Earth from eternal rest.
But the results of all this are inconsistent at best. A long time of pretending to be somebody else in conjunction with what he internally describes as failures of the past has every waking moment be a gaslighting of himself. There is a dark cloud looming in his mind that insists all he had done during the greatest war the milky way has seen was wrong. He is insecure, yet does his best to internalize all of his issues and presents a believable veneer of almost macho confidence.
INADEQUACIES AND FEARS◢
There are many things Oslo struggles with. Following his indoctrination at the hands of Cerberus and more than a year of taking on new identities has left his mind riddled with issues of even figuring out his own personality, leading to at times rather erratic behaviour with mood swings of amicable extroversion to calm indifference to savage irritability. He has a not entirely unfounded paranoia that he is hunted be it by another cell following the unplanned dissolution of his own, or by authorities that traced his past. Oslo does have greater concerns on matters of the future of the world, but for the most part his mind's worries are more selfish focusing on what may or may not happen to him.
Under his shells, Oslo is also quite simply put immature. His father raised him alone and was oft too ailing to be an adequate father figure, let alone compensate for a missing mother. As such he struggles with many realities that more adult people face, that can largely be condensed to the fact life is not fair, and it never will be. This is all the more devastating when compounded with his youth, and lack of (complete) formal education in much of life, even if the army and Cerberus provided him with quite a good amount of the practical stuff. Though experienced beyond his years he is still ultimately young and green.
Oslo is also affected by some perceptive illusions. As a result of the haywiring of the indoctrination tech within him following the defeat of the reapers, he at times is maligned with anything from stray lines of code in his vision, to whispers and phantom smells, to at times more serious apparitions combining all sensory elements.
The cybernetics in him can also prove to be just as much a liability as they are a boon. If not maintained, or successfully struck with things like overloads they cause massive pain and malfunction of bodily functions rendering him sluggish at best. Even when unaffected by the efforts of adversaries he deals with chronic migraines resulting from the foreign matter in him.
Finally, he is very scared that he might never get back the things he lost. Community, friends, family, love. The feeling he isn't alone, he is wanted, that he doesn't have to hide. This is made all the worse by growing self doubt of the validity of his past and the actions in it, as well as consciousness of his appearance and identity that he forsook.
Oslo was born to what one could argue to be a military family. His father Iskander Kassam was a cripple following his valiant resistance against the Turian aggressor during the contact wars. His mother Agnieska Kassam (née Haskau) was a Captain of a vessel that was destroyed by Batarian slavers, and she died before he could ever meet her.
Though difficult, his upbringing was rather happy. He heard many a great tale of what a great warrior his mother was, and all that she did for the protection of her people. Oslo would look to the skies imagining what adventures she would have had, what great deeds were accomplished in the soundless void. While his education continued and he took on work to help support the family of two once his siblings left for other worlds, he kept a smile upon his face, retreating from the poverty into a world of his mind. It worked, until it did not. His father passed away of a stroke whilst he was at school.
At the man's funeral, the boy looked to the stars and saw only one way forward. He went on to enlist, lying about his age and doing his best to edit it in his documentation. It was a poor job of the matter, but at the base of the recruitment centre was a Colonel that had known his mother that - upon learning of the full story - decided to humour the boy. He assigned him to a harsh drill Sergeant through his training, hoping that the man would squeeze out the adventurism of the lad if he wasn't serious about the matter, but insofar as he saw the pain of the training was only a fulfillment of the fantasy he had built about the nobility of being a soldier.
The kind Colonel eventually relented, and once the formal training was done he let the boy go through what he thought would be a simple tour of duty patrolling the edge of the Solar system. He was not so lucky.
It was only a few months into his first assignment that the vessel he was crewing found itself in combat. A vessel of the Eclipse Mercenary corp. struck at a trade vessel. The Alliance vessel outgunned that of the Mercenaries, but that did not matter much when the Eclipse mercs initiated a boarding action. The biotic veterans made short work of the green recruits in the ranks of the troops, only eventually facing defeat by attrition as the use of biotic powers wore them out and they began to run out of ammunition.
The officers amongst the crew insisted to Oslo he remain in reserves, but he was one of the few men left to take the offenders prisoner. As they were taken to the military base in the System, it was soon revealed that two of the members of the captured force were daughters of a powerful matriarch that insisted on their release, a demand that the Alliance Government acquiesced to in hopes of preventing a diplomatic incident.
While many of the locals accepted this knowing they were of a small colony with little voice, Oslo was infuriated. This defied all his expectations of his presumed honourable way of the military, and he made sure to express this wherever he could. This was overheard by the same Colonel Samson that had helped the lad enter the army, who thus decided to visit him one night on the way to the barracks.
Samson stated that the Asari duo would be escorted out in a week, and in one of the hallways leading out there was a segment undocumented by camera surveillance. If so truly Oslo wanted justice, he could be assigned to the position of escort of the asari to the shuttle that would take them to orbit and eventually freedom. Within the short stretch of hall he could murder them, and claim that they struck first. The Colonel had expected caution from his counterpart at the prospect of such vigilantism but received only unquestioning acceptance.
As planned he took them through the halls, and relished the moment he spent but two shots of his thermal clip for the villains. A court martial happened to investigate what happened, and despite much of his unit and officers standing up for him Oslo was charged with negligent discharge of his weapon in an effort to appease, and was thus no longer in the Marines.
Returning home he was approached by the Colonel. Samson stated the obvious: that his life expectancy was rather short now given his transgression against a very powerful person. Seeing the boy only shrug his shoulders more concerned with the fact that he was now out of the army, he made him an offer. Samson stated there was an organization he was part of, one that needed those as uncompromising in their dedication to standing up for their people as he, one that needed those sufficiently devoted to this cause: Cerberus.
The Colonel gave him a time, and a place. Oslo showed up under a street light, and from there darkness. He awoke in the Med-Bay of a vessel, sterile white surrounding him everywhere save for a pair of mechanical goggles scrutinizing him. The visor came off, and there was a face smiling upon him. It introduced itself as Doctor Strasser Ochekwu, M.D., Phd, and a lot more letters. As proper consciousness flowed back into the lad he began to sit himself up, answering the barrage of questions that came at him regarding his past, his motivations, his education, skills, so on and so forth. As time went on, Strasser got ever more serious, her smile turning to a frown, only for the smile to return once the last questions were done. The Doctor was open to Oslo about the truth. He was far from the peak of material that the vessel had held, but he seemed to have the devotion and desire to be able to be moulded into a tool for the defence of mankind. It hurt, but Oslo swallowed his pride and accepted the offer that Strasser gave him: to join the Achilles Cell of Cerberus and fight for what he knew was right.
He was introduced to the crew soon after. Korwin Markov, an N7 defector that blew an aggression inhibitor before turning coats. Jonah Khaled, once Olympic fencer now swinging a true blade against the dark. Sofia Cortez the Captain and Pilot of The Ascension; a veteran of the Alliance Navy that turned to becoming a pirate against the Turians after disagreeing with high command in the peace that was forged with the Turians then taken in by Cerberus. Nika Reigel, the Engineer he'd be most closely working with given the work that he was doing during his service in the Marines. Dozens of colourful people, an assortment that despite not always being the most welcoming did warm up to him and returned to Oslo some semblance of what he felt he had lost overnight with the dishonourable discharge.
Oslo received a training far more rigorous than what he had before as a simple Private. Though he had broken every bone in his body before he won a spar, he accepted the punishment with glee as it hardened him. He learned of stealth and disguise from the infiltrators within the cell, and spent much time with Reigel to expand the core of his professional abilities. Indeed the very first thing he was taught was of damping, a skill that was much appreciated. The Eclipse mercenaries that had massacred his comrades had left him a feeling of helplessness against biotics, and a veritable fear of them. With her help, he was able to overcome this and know that next time it would be the bastards on the other side that needed fear.
It was eventually his first assignment. There was a Turian research station at the edge of a system in the Terminus sector that had made a breakthrough on the Collectors. What it was, leadership would not say, but it didn't matter. They couldn't be allowed to have that, and as such they would perish. The attack was swift and merciless: with the facility more relying on its hidden nature for security than actual guards. Those that were posted were taken out after a prompt boarding action, with the defensive turrets and VIs getting hacked or struck by EMPs and the scientists gunned down before all the data was downloaded. The facility was destroyed and no evidence was left.
Following this a more discrete assignment was given to the Achilles Cell. They were to infiltrate parts of the Citadel to prepare it for future Cerberus activities. Caches of weapons and ammo were hid, several men were deployed to be sleeper agents. People within the city were given bribes or otherwise convinced to look the other way, some human officers of C-Sec convinced to sympathize with the cause. At the same time those that could not be swayed had to be assassinated; people were strangled and it was made to look as a robbery gone wrong or doors to homes were programmed to unexpectedly close on their owner to squash them. Many people perished, but they were all those who would have harmed the Cell members had they known of their activity and hence Oslo had no qualms with the matter.
The Achilles cell was recalled however to a hidden base of Cerberus. They were to report in for improvements to themselves. These were rather quickly revealed to be cybernetics and though the first hours following the surgeries it was merely the pain that occupied the minds of the cell, Oslo very soon realized he felt different. He did feel good. Stronger, faster, clearer of sight and mind. But with this clarity there was the realization almost as if he could no longer think as much as he could before; trains of thought would end abruptly on many topics, and he felt himself hesitate at the prospect of discussing many things with his crewmates on the matter of ideology or the cause. He wanted to question the matter, but Oslo quite simply could not.
They were then given an assignment that even the new implants could not in entirety clear his consciousness of. A small ship of the migrant fleet was docked in the Citadel, and it had to be slaughtered. They of course could not charge in, but they were able to infiltrate the ship to tamper with the electronics and machinery. Exhaust gasses were made to route into the life support system, that was in turn sabotaged to not vent these when a dangerous mass was detected. When the quarians returned they died a savage death in space as over-pressurized atmosphered cracked their suits, young and old alike bursting within their protective gear. Despite the machinery within him that was working against him questioning the Illusive Man's orders, there was something wrong here. Turians and Batarians he could understand, they were a people that had committed grave crimes against man-kind. There was no military honour in this, and rather horrifyingly he feared that his mother and father above would curse him for the crime he had committed.
He struggled with trying to justify this. Mental gymnastics an olympic medalist would be jealous of streamed through his mind, but he could still not give a satisfactory explanation. But again they were recalled to a Cerberus base for more enhancements. The pain was even greater this time, and now they were somewhat visible if he undressed in a light. But once more they felt good after time passed. Now the questions of the validity of the strike on the Quarians evaporated from his mind. They were friendly with the Turians and other scum, they unleashed the Geth on the galaxy, their people spread out across the stars to be vagrants, vagabonds, criminal nuisances.
The Achilles cell then participated in the strike on the Citadel. Though at the time many of the preparations they had done before seemed pecuiliar their value was soon apparent. Stashes of ammo were used by sleeper cells to destroy defender lines from within, mines had C-Sec units vapourized while running to armouries and demolition charges dropped rubble to prevent refugees from escaping the slaughter. Every nerve was crying out that this was wrong. For every Batarian or Turian in which he saw those that crushed his family, Oslo also saw the death of those he had little to no qualms with, including other humans, those who it was his sacred charge to protect. But wires and cables superseded nerve, and his finger held on to the trigger.
The day was eventually lost for the defenders of man. Covered from head to toe in the red product of his work Oslo fled with tail between legs as Cerberus in its entirety had to lick its wounds. It had suffered great losses that day but there were many cards that it had not played and the Achilles cell had much work to do. Terrorist operations all across the Milky Way were performed as well as supporting actions for the more open actions of providing reinforcement to larger scale Cerberus operations.
Every new assignment brought them to inflicting new levels of horror on the galaxy, but they were always followed by a return to a Cerberus base that layered on yet more augments that inevitably included indoctrination tech. Every increment in atrocity was matched with a decrement in ability to question it.
The time of the final showdown came, as the battle for Earth approached. Cerberus had gone into hiding by this point, but cells arrived at the edge of the Sol system with the aim of supporting their hero - the Illusive man - in the great gambit.
As Shephard destroyed synthetic life of the galaxy, the vessel of the Achilles cell crash-landed on Earth. In the crash a half of the crew perished, and another half perished from the shock of the destruction of synthetics as core systems shut down without the stolen reaper-tech within them malfunctioned. Of those that lived to gaze upon their birthright of Earth, the marvel of setting foot on their true home could not truly be enjoyed.
As much as two thirds of the bodies of the different members could not function. Strasser had her legs rendered immobile and a right arm quite simply break off. Markov's biotic implants reacted with the rest to burst a hole in his back and turn him to a gibbering mess, Captain Cortez was rendered wholly deaf, while Oslo himself had his eyes pour out of his head. A whole week was spent hungry and thirstty as they did the best to restore themselves to working order. In the time it took to do this there were many reflections for the whole Cell. Arguably for the first time in months Oslo was truly lucid. He could look at the proverbial rivers of blood on his hands and the reality of the lives lost in terror sank in. Though his body was covered in instances of necrosis from failed or failing implants, he still struggled to be confident in coming to terms with the world around him.
The indoctrination implants had fed his mind arguments about the validity of the actions of the Achilles cell, and as was designed they were logical at their core. But now he had the freedom to think against them. It did not take him long to consider that the entirety of his time following his discharge from the military was wrong, that he had failed those he had looked up to.
But on the other hand, there was little time or use in retrospection. Oslo told himself that even if it was not enough, he had done his best. Now he was surrounded by people important to him, and what mattered was surviving in the post war world.
A large taste of reality struck Oslo when venturing out from the crash site to look for food, children screamed at the sight of him and adults with weapons at times fired at the sight, believing him to be a yet operational husk from afar. To see that the people he swore himself to defend fear him so, to be rejected by his ancestral homeworld was an experience that crushed him. What was worse was that he realized even if he hid the physical changes, anyone who found out what he had done would do the same. Could they believe him if he said it wasn't himself, it was the implants' influence? He dreaded the inevitable question that would follow in response: whether or not it really was just the implants.
With survival more important than musings on his crimes, he ineffectually tried to drown out these intrusive thoughts. The lad took to covering himself with rags to form a bandana, sunglasses, a headset, anything that would let him and the rest of the cell wander the ruins of Earth and look the essentials that would let them survive. It was not enough of course, for close enough many would be able to get a better look and see the truth. Eventually the crew started to add in additional skin grafts on their flesh to hide some cybernetics, whilst outright removing or disabling other parts, or replacing them with less egregious ones. Slowly they returned to operating like a normal Cerberus cell in clandestine work. They dispersed from their meeting places to do their work, only reuniting to pool their resources and share updates on the ongoings of the world. They had no greater goal, but ultimately the message came in one day that the cell was jeopardized.
Oslo ran for days as far as he could from the ruined basement that he had known as home, eventually making his way to one of the population centers of ruined Earth. He felt hollow, alone, given all the more time to stew in reflection of what he had done with Cerberus and what was real or a fiction of his mind's corruption. He began to do odd jobs from construction work to killing off wild animals that ransacked supplies to looking for salvage to sell; anything that would help him get by; though considerable modifications had been done to hide the nature of what was below his skin, he was still fearful of approaching official channels for help. Only now with hearing of the Sol Restoration network he finally mustered the courage to sign on for this new job, hoping he can stop scraping mud for survival and make use of his past experience to once more fight for humanity.
There was an Old Earth saying he had heard: "A guilty one runs unchased." Oslo decided that he would not run.
-First Aid -Damping -Tech Armour -Hacking
ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND CRIMES◢
Following a year in service of the systems Alliance armed forces he spent much time in a Cerberus cell wherein he obtained broad experience from technical work to combat and covert operations. While Oslo Kassam is assumed dead, his work for Cerberus has him on a yet unwritten list of wanted people for elite terrorism of a quite literally galactic scale. Has killed two daughters of an influential Asari matriarch, an act that has received a still active retribution bounty on his head.
RELATIONS AND AFFILIATIONS◢
-Private in Systems Alliance Marines (dishonourable discharge)
-By virtue of his mother's esteem in the Marines he still has friends in the organization unaware of his terrorist activities. -Colonel Samson, the man responsible for his recruitment into both the Marines and Cerberus
-Former Cerberus cell operative
-Strasser Ochekwu, the Doctor responsible for much of his current condition. -Sofia Cortez, his former Captain -Nika Reigel, fellow Engineer in the Achilles cell and somewhat unrequited paramour. -Korwin Markov, a cell member that Oslo came to see as a paternal figure for much time.
-Has a brother named Oscar and a sister named Maryam somewhere out there.
(For group members and NPCs; fill after IC introduction)
CREDITS & VALUABLES◢ 11 Credits
OUTFIT◢ When on assignment he will wear light mercenary armour with a recon hood. Otherwise the best he can scrounge up. At the moment its the batter overcoat of a dead Alliance Marine private (medal resting upon it in a brazen display of stolen valour) along with jeans and mismatched Engineer's boots, usually with his armour below or on top of this ensemble. He will oft tie a scarf as a keffiyeh, and wear sunglasses & headset.
WEAPON & TOOLS◢ An omni tool on either arm, a Harrier rifle with stock removed for mobility. He will pick the dead clean for any augments he can make to his arsenal be it a few spare grenades or a shiny new gun.
Cybernetics given to him by Cerberus make his otherwise unimposing frame belie surprising durability and physical performance, along with better sensory abilities from sight to hearing and smell; most important in the role he grew to perform has been a mental link to his omni tools. At the same time many of these systems are disabled or malfunctioning following the destruction of synthetic life leading to some extreme awkwardness in the man's movements.
CONSUMABLE◢ Some medi-gel
ID & DOCUMENTS◢ None
BAGS & CONTAINERS◢ Pockets, a burlap sack, an empty wallet.
Tamás had the avenge height and weight for a human male, but his looks came primarily from his father's side. He earned a scar on his right hand during the Reaper invasion of the Citadel. He also liked to wear his Janissary Armor since it made him feel protected. The armor still looked battle-worn, with the olive green hiding most of the damages; but, there were hints of dried blood on it to serve as a reminder. Besides the armor, his clothing choices were limited to hand-me-downs since the Reaper invasion. So, he wore whatever made him feel comfortable.
And while the injured leg healed on its own, doctors required that Tamás wore a full leg orthotic brace to help maintain his balance while using it. Thanks to medical advances (and enough credits), the brace was surgically inserted into the leg with no problems. Fortunately, it appeared to be still functioning normally after the Reaper Wars.
MOTIVATIONS AND OUTLOOK◢
Tamás became hyperfocused on saving his home, The Citadel, from critical life support failure. It was really the only thing that had his undying attention. But for a moment, he did reflect on the hell he experienced only a month ago. He also thought about Canlius too often for his own good, wondering if he was alive or dead. The worst part was thinking if he died for Reapers or no breathable air. And he thought about his family on Earth, wondering if they somehow survived the decimation. Or at least knowing if they died peacefully or painfully. Thinking about them hurt Tamás more than he wanted to admit.
For now, the survival of his home needed his attention, and it might have done him some good in the long run.
INADEQUACIES AND FEARS◢
Shortly after the Battle of the Citadel, Tamás was diagnosed with PTSD for his time underneath the rubble. He began having nightmares about it and developed claustrophobia for that traumatic experience. With the proper medications and therapy, he was able to regain control of his life, stopped having nightmares constantly, and made some sense of his trauma. But then the Reapers invaded the Citadel and unleashed hell. What Tamás experienced permanently broke him mentally. It was one thing to hear about the atrocities committed by the Reapers and another to witness it and survive.
And without medication or therapy, Tamás suffered heavily from severe nightmares and flashbacks to hyperarousal. Recently, he found that smoking cigarettes somewhat helped control his symptoms and to cope with his traumas.
Tamás, the fourth child of the Zsolt-Cox family, was born a year before humanity made contact with other life. But prior to that cathartic event, Márton and Eduard Zsolt-Cox were benefactors to the Systems Alliance despite the disapproval of their friends. Both of them recognized that expanding beyond the Sol System was the only path forward for humanity. The discovery of other species in the galaxy secured their judgment on the matter. However, it wasn't driven by a sense of supremacy or hatred. Instead, their drive was the betterment of tomorrow for others, especially their children.
Their contribution to the Alliance only increased two-fold after the First Contact War. So naturally, they fully committed to the newly established Parliament. Yet, instead of moving over to Arcturus Station, they chose to remain on Earth in their hometown of Budapest. Márton wanted her children to grow up in their homeworld before deciding to leave it for the galaxy. Still, it didn't stop their curiosity for life beyond the planet—especially Tamás.
At a young age, Tamás Zsolt-Cox dreamt of escaping to the wondrous galaxy and living in one of the colonies. To him, living on Earth wasn't exciting as his parents made it out to be. So, he began making the dream a reality. Once high school ended with high grades, Tamás found himself pursuing a career in civil engineering with help from the Systems Alliance. Unlike his older siblings, he chose not to remain in the military after graduating from university. Regardless, he appreciated the lessons taught and even found a use for them later on in his life.
The first thing that Tamás did was book a frigate to the Citadel before bidding farewell to his friends and family. When he set foot on the station, he immediately fell in love with it. It was everything that he dreamed of since he was only a child. And even though there were struggles to survive another day, he still fell in love with his new home. Tamás eventually found stable work at a construction company, thanks to his degree, and met Canlius Falion on his first day.
The two of them began hanging out while on breaks and eventually off-work hours. And before long, Tamás realized that he had fallen in love with Canlius. He really didn't know what to do or how to react to his feelings for his friend. But, rather than wait for a long time, he took his time and slowly gave him hints. It wasn't until three years later that Tamás confessed his love to Canlius during dinner. He didn't even have time to finish his thoughts before being kissed for the first time in his life. Both of them started dating shortly after the dinner, but they decided to take things slowly.
But not long after, the Battle of the Citadel took place. Tamás was at work, finishing up repairs to an apartment unit, when Sovereign made its presence known. Even though the geth were sieging only the Presidium, C-Sec still advised civilians to seek shelter for the threat. The alert forced Tamás to hide out at a nearby restaurant along with other civilians. Tamás tried to send a message out to Canlius, but communications were being jammed. Then, the last thing he remembered was witnessing the dreadnought's destruction followed by cheers for the crowd and then silence.
That was when pieces of it began raining down on the Citadel.
By the time the shelter-in-place order ended, Tamás was buried underneath rubble for the apartment, which collapsed after a piece of the dreadnought crashed into it. Canlius joined the rescue effort as he refused to believe that his boyfriend was dead. It took fourteen hours before tools had even arrived on site due to the chaos that followed after the attack—and an additional thirteen hours before workers rescued Tamás. He was taken to a hospital and immediately went into surgery to save his legs. Fortunately, thanks to modern medicine, they were never amputated; however, extensive physical therapy was required.
Upon regaining consciousness, Tamás was caught off-guard by his family's arrival but grateful to be alive. If it weren't for his parents, then his life would've been more difficult. He had the best physical therapy available given to him despite the distant relationship in recent years. So, after leaving the hospital, he began working to reconnect with his family as payment. Meanwhile, his relationship with Canlius only got stronger after overcoming the struggle of rebuilding their lives. Tamás was still haunted by the time spent underneath the rubble but seemed to have enough inner strength and a stable support system to overcome it.
Two years passed, and with damages to the Citadel repaired, Canlius proposed to Tamás over a private dinner at their newly restored home. Their first stop was Oma Ker to tell the news to Canlius' family, which was positive. And then, after two days on the planet, they ultimately left for Earth to inform Tamás' family. Everything was going smoothly until the news came in via the extranet: Earth was under attack. At first, Tamás assumed it was a joke until their transport shuttle detoured to the Citadel. That was when he started to panic.
Upon returning home, Tamás spent the entire day trying to contact his family in Budapest, praying they were safe and sounds. But then, it became weeks without any answers. He had thought that all of them had died on Earth. Fortunately, his younger sister, Hegedüs, arrived at the Citadel upon receiving his message. But, she came with bad news: Gale, their oldest sibling, was killed in action. The news absolutely devastated him.
And when it was time for Hegedüs to leave, she offered her brother reinstatement into the Alliance and a position in her unit. However, Tamás refused and instead chose to remain in the Citadel. It didn't mean he wasn't going to help out with the war. With Canlius and other construction workers, they provided their services to build temporary housing for the influx of refugees, among other amenities (bathrooms, daycare centers, and more). There was always something to repair or build every day in one of the dozen refugee camps.
Then, out of nowhere, Cerberus stormed the Citadel and began their killing spree. Tamás and Canlius worked in one of the docking bays designated to be a refugee camp when the coup began. The C-Sec officers stationed at the local security checkpoint were unaware of the threat until it was too late. Several Cerberus soldiers took them out with ease and rounded everyone else up for identification. Tamás started to feel the sensations that he had while under the rubble. And suddenly, picking up a pistol next to a dead officer, he opened fire at the soldiers without hesitation.
By the time C-Sec reinforcements had arrived, Tamás had killed half of them before the rest of them were neutralized. Everyone called him a hero on that day, but he felt sick to his stomach for killing someone. It took a few days for him to realize that there was no going back. There was only forward. So, once the Civilian Militia was created in response to the coup attempt, Tamás, Canlius, and several of his friends joined.
Thousands of citizens joined the Citadel Civilian Militia to defend their home from invaders after The Cerberus Coup. Those civilians were split up and assigned a C-Sec officer to train them in the basics of combat and warfare. Often, citizens with military training and/or service were asked to share their knowledge with others. And while C-Sec allowed someone to use their weapons and armors, credit pools were encouraged to buy their own equipment instead of taking up C-Sec resources. In addition, the civilian militia was briefly taught about Reaper forces just as a precaution instead of necessity.
In the end, however, all of the training didn't prepare them for a sudden Reaper invasion. It didn't take long for the Citadel Civilian Militia to assemble and respond to the immediate threat. Everything was going smoothly with defense positions established and the rather inadequate Reaper force being pushed back. Then, the Citadel's arms began closing on their own. Everyone was starting to get anxious and tense while watching the darkness creaking in. And once the arms were closed entirely was when the slaughter began.
In a matter of seconds, the Citadel Civilian Militia collapsed entirely.
Tamás witnessed an asari nightmarishly transformed into a banshee and sliced his commanding officer in half. And then, husks began to pounce on individuals attempting to flee. For the first time, he had felt and seen genuine fear in his life. His body was telling him to run faster than ever before, and so he did. About everyone else was doing the same thing: running for their lives. Some chose to stand their ground, but that usually didn't last long. Eventually, Tamás found shelter to hide from the ongoing massacre with citizens and other "soldiers."
Tamás listened to the remaining command structure ordering a full retreat to C-Sec headquarters for a final stand. Instead, he was going to look for Canlius, assigned to one of the defense positions before hell itself arrived. When he eventually ventured outside, he was terrified by the silence alone; however, he kept pressing forward. In the distance, he saw the remaining resistance force getting overwhelmed by the Reapers. Tamás' heart was utterly crushed, but he kept going for his husband. Soon after, he met up with another group of citizens and volunteers; however, he stayed with them since they were heading in the same direction.
In the following days, most of the group had been killed and hunted down by the Reapers. Yet, the remaining individuals, including Tamás, were holding their position when they saw the arms slowly reopening. And what they saw was both beautiful and horrifying at the same time: Earth. But, all of them kept on fighting as a massive device connected itself to the tower. And then, minutes later, it began charging before releasing a red beam of energy. Tamás watched as that red wave made its way towards him and embraced it.
But, nothing happened to him. Tamás watched as the Reaper forces were dissolved from the battlefield entirely. He and the other survivors had no idea what happened or if the universe had just ended. Regardless, survival was the only main concern. The group made their way to C-Sec headquarters and saw the pile of bodies defending the entranceway defensives till the last person. Inside wasn't any better, but there were survivors. The lucky few that endured were either injured, mentally broken, or both. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Tamás didn't see Canlius amongst the dead.
Yet, there were more concerning matters.
It was evident that the blast brought severe damage to the wards; however, it also affected life support systems for the various districts on the wards. The Citadel was going to be their coffins unless the problem was solved. Tamás decided to volunteer to look for possible solutions to the critical problem while getting communications reestablished, hoping that life still existed beyond this dying station. As the days passed, some of the survivors started to help out around. Within four days, power inside was restored, and efforts to identify the bodies began. The week passed, and all bodies inside were identified, remembered, and then burned.
It wasn't until week two that Earth responded to the Citadel's SOS signal. Tamás was exhilarated that the entire galaxy managed to beat the Reapers and survived to tell generations. He had high hopes for his home being saved. Instead, the leaders on Earth refused to commit resources and manpower to fix the failing life support system on the station. Tamás understood straight away that the Citadel was being sidelined while the leaders focused their efforts on Earth. Meanwhile, he and the survivors managed to restore communications within the station, but it was rather ineffective due to the lack of power in all wards.
In the third week, Admiral Nitesh Singh contacted headquarters to get the status of the Citadel and its life support. Having the provisional allied commander on line, Tamás attempted to get Admiral Singh's plead to aid the station. But, he was largely avoided until asked a question or two. And then, the commander was gone without saying anything else. Tamás knew that his home was essentially sacrificed in favor of Earth and rebuilt on top of their corpses. He wasn't going down without a bloody fight.
So when he was offered a spot on the Sol Restoration Network, Tamás accepted without hesitation, knowing that it was his only way to help save his home from certain doom.
Combat Drone Sentry Turret Electronics Cryo Blast
ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND CRIMES◢
▪ Alliance training during university ▪ Worked for CitiBuild on the Citadel ▪ Aided the refugees during The Reaper War ▪ Joined the Citadel Civilian Militia
Solveig suffers quite terribly from what is known as "resting bitch face", meaning, that she is often found with a less than neutral, neutral expression. It's hardly lightened by the trademark sweeps of black eyeshadow and purple smudged waterline that frame her smoke-coloured eyes, always observing, always bright. Gaunt cheeks add to the sharp intensity to her face, and her pale, freckled skin speaks to her Scandinavian heritage.
Naturally blonde hair is turned black with dye, and worn unkempt in messy waves, and tightened into a braid across the side of her head, just above her ear - revealing heavy black and grey tattooing down her neck. The woman is tall and slender, standing at 5'7", taller still by a further 3 inches in the heavy heeled boots she opts to wear in her everyday activities.
When meeting Solveig, your eye may be persuaded at first by the arm. The silver cybernetic left arm. The alloy is shaped into prominent muscles. It doesn't quite suit the woman, and she regards it as an attached weapon, as opposed to a limb. Expertly crafted, and intimidating to look at for too long. What the arm has done...
What her appearance shows, betrays the nature she is desperately trying to unearth again - under her unintentional scowls, twitching nervousness, and shrinking posture is a warm personality, a kind heart, and a giving spirit - somewhere.
MOTIVATIONS AND OUTLOOK◢
Solveig is a soldier, through and through. Motivated by justice, peace, and proving her worth. On the battlefield, her mindset is as solid as a rock and as sharp as a razor. To her, pain, stress, climate, and just about any situation can be survived and endured when victory is on the horizon, and victory is always glimmering on the horizon. There is always hope. She is incredible at her job, as an N7 Special Ops, she had to be.
Outside of the field, Solveig will over-analyse situations and holds an extremely critical eye on herself. Solveig will go through all possible elements of thinking before making a decision. One of those elements will be to consult her tarot deck, to literally look to the skies for an astrological reason. Perhaps, by looking up, she doesn't have to look ahead so much.
She is as supportive of people in her life as she can be from a distance. While near silent when in recreation, Solveig enjoys that silence, and her impressive skill affords her a break from the teasing for being so introspective. She is respected as she is, even if others do wonder who she really is.
Truthfully she cannot answer that question, she doesn’t know who she is either and so she is elusive when in personally confronting situations. She lacks the emotional intelligence her father was raising her to have, she oversteps boundaries socially because she does not know that they exist. She is awkward, impatient, tactless, and her energy can rub others the wrong way.
But she is trying, to be better.
Solveig was born as Leo lay to the east, and Libra to the west. She came into the world under the sign of Virgo as the last strokes of summer melted away in Vaxjo, Sweden.
Born to a soldier mother, and a spiritual father, she was to be raised in the centre of two ideals. Her mother, who knew the stars to simply be stars; and her father, who knew the stars to be the pathway of humanity's past, present, and future. Solveig was born, as her mother described "wrong". The left arm smaller than the right, fingers too small and too few. To her father, his daughter was born perfectly as she was meant to.
Solveig, it seemed, fell to the view of her father. Her arm was never something that held her back, and even as a toddler, she managed just fine. She was intuitive in the ways that she would get around situations that otherwise would prevent her from reaching her goal. She had the precision focus of her mother, and the faith in herself that her father continued to pour into her. She was an unstoppable and unruly child. He loved that about her.
At night they would discuss the stars, mythology, philosophy and the ways in which the Earth could heal us - old ways that were becoming lost as the future continued to usher in answers for everything.
At 12, her father sat with Solveig to give her first reading; pulling the cards that would mark their way for her future. In her mind, she focused on what she should do - and who she should become. Slowly, she picked her way through that old deck carefully.
The High Priestess - her divine feminine. The High Priestess was how she saw herself, intuitive and conscious, attuned to her destiny and only in need of a guide to carry her forward.
The Hanged Man stood before her as the blockage. He who represented victimisation and emotional blackmail. He who held out the expectations she had to adhere to. Her mother, the shadow, always at play in her mind.
For her future, she had pulled Death. That at some point, an abrupt ending would come, followed by rebirth.
For years, Death hovered in her mind. She was priming herself to her mother's wishes. To join the Alliance just like she had. Her quiet nature and intense focus had meshed well to the line of Infiltrator. This had been a surprise to her mother, who was a powerful Soldier of the front line. Unrelenting in combat, still, she was proud of her daughter and becoming more and more impressed with her growth - even with the disfigured arm. Still, she was growing impatient. A soldier's whole body had to be primed for battle. Solveig was imperfect, and so she got to work.
By the eve of Solveig's 20th birthday, her mother had finished. A true feat of technology in the form of a cybernetic prosthetic solution to her daughter's disability. All silver and rippling with metal corded muscle, emblazoned with the Systems Alliance insignia.
In an event entirely orchestrated by her mother, Solveig found herself manipulated onto the operating table - her father had been suspiciously sent away on other errands days prior. As she lay on the table, and looked up at the glass ceiling, she saw in her reflection the image of The Hanged Man. The last thing that she saw as she was anaesthetised was the image of the card that had always been blocking her. It was too late to fight back.
She dreamt of being the greatest sniper in the Alliance. Her mother had promised her that with the arm she would become an N7 one day, that she could bring justice to those who needed her.
When she woke up, everything felt wrong. Suddenly, there was something that was now a part of her that hadn’t been before - and what had been a part of her was gone. Long gone. It took her weeks to be able to move the fingers of the arm. It was alien to have five on one hand. More alien to have ten altogether. It started with wagging them, and letting her nerves connect to the technology. Her own mind, the biggest block.
Some nights, she would feel searing pain within the new limb - like her actual arm was trapped and encased inside, bleeding into the prosthesis. She would wake up screaming, clawing at the arm to free herself from it. Only then did she find out the strength of the thing when she punched a hole through the wall in desperate frustration. Worse yet, she was stuck there - bleeding inside and stuck. She was claustrophobic in her own skin.
It took months longer to get used to it. The coldness of it, the weight, the sensations. But she did. She channelled her focus, and with the help of her father and his spiritual support, she overcame the challenge. She grieved for the loss of her body, for the agency she had handed to her mother. Slowly but surely she began to work with the arm, and not against it. It wasn’t a part of her - but it was her tool - and it was making her a better soldier.
Her trigger finger was faster, more precise, and more deadly. She began to climb the ranks at an alarming rate - an N5 by the time she was 27 and credited with over 60 successful assassinations.
A lone ranger. A ghost story. The Wraith.
When a team of good men couldn’t bring down a ring of slavers. The Alliance would send in their bionic staring machine.
This track record of success kept her going through her career, further isolating her from any kind of social life. She became one of the Alliance’s greatest weapons, indoctrinated for the pursuit of violent honour. Point and shoot. Rinse and repeat. Solveig forgot what it was like to be home, to be calm, to be present. To look up to the stars.
The silence of being off-mission haunts her. She thinks of all that she has done, those she has killed, and when the wonder and curiosity of the why of human existence became replaced with such a hunger for justice at any cost, and why she was always starving for it, no matter her successes.
At her cousin’s wedding, she read the palm of his new wife in a perhaps completely overzealous and awkward fashion. She thought about it for months afterwards, a cold shudder of cringe gnawing at her when she did. She didn’t think about such things in the field. Her skin didn’t crawl when she was crouched in hiding, set to kill. Solveig went back into hiding.
Only when she is with her father can she fully relax. Only in his presence does her true nature present itself and almost as if it were never buried to begin with. In following Tarot reads, The High Priestess has never again shown herself to Solveig.
During the Reaper War, Solveig was recruited into the N7 Special Ops - finally realised the promise her mother had made to her, even if it wasn’t quite the way it had been intended. The promise felt… Shallow now, transparently insincere.
Even as the Reaper War ended, Solveig knew there was much to do, much to fix and mend, systems to be rebuilt. As a weapon, she couldn’t do that. Knowing that she needed to find herself as the echoes of violence ran through her still, she reached out to her in-law, to the Sol Restoration Network. The cards and the stars told her to. The stars told her to humble herself and heal, and the cards told her that Katya was waiting.
She could shed her ghostly skin and find her heart again.
The arm grew heavier, the fingers felt numb, a black hole opened up inside like a wound. She could no longer be a lone ranger; humanity, and the galaxy, needed her for a mission more important than any other before it.
Absolute God-Awful Personality. Will go to any length for Justice. Psychological body trauma issues. Frequent neuropathic pain.
Languages - Swedish/English/Russian. Operative/Operational Mastery. Tactical Cloak. Sabotage. Cryo Ammo.
Cybernetic Arm // Increased strength/mobility/defense.
ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND CRIMES◢
N5 Operative Infiltrator Expert Sniper N7 Special Ops during Reaper War
RELATIONS AND AFFILIATIONS◢
Mother - Agnes Wistrom Father - Lars Wistrom Cousin - Nils Wistrom Cousin-in-Law - Yekaterina Feodorovna Serova
(For group members and NPCs; fill after IC introduction)
Kysar is wide for a Turian. Broad shouldered and heavy set with muscles, he is a bit of a daunting figure to look at. His bone white face tattoos only serve to compound that intimidating presence. Tattooed lovingly by humans during his time in Purgatory Prison, Kysar sees them as a spit in the face to all whoever called him barefaced. His mandibles fall long, and his razor-sharp spikes cut the air at the turn of a head. His eyes, a deep ocean blue, are capable of boring holes into even the thickest of Krogan heads. A detail the female of his species are often quick to remind him of, as they faun over the Turian. Despite not being there for long, Kysar has proved to be popular with the ladies around camp. Easy on the eyes and a bit of a mean streak, he’s the type of Turian you want to bring home if you want to piss off your Dad.
As with most Turians, Kysar’s posture has been built by the military. Unrelenting in his stance, the Turian moves with powerful strides and can stand still for hours on end. During combat, he glides over terrain without so much as a peep, striking with absolute precision. The armour given to him is state of the art. Despite being a criminal and part of a suicide squad, Turians are still a practical bunch. They do want the mission to be successful and so, outfit Kysar with some serious gear. Made to measure, the medium plated armour is cybernetic in appearance (only), offering as much protection as possible without hindering stealth or power capabilities. Kysar was also lucky enough to choose the decal finish of his suit, specifically requesting that ‘the carpet matched the drapes’.
MOTIVATIONS AND OUTLOOK◢
Life is hard, it’s the thing that kills you and boy howdy has it tried to kill Kysar. The Turian can scarcely remember a time when something or someone wasn’t at his throat. It’s only of late that he’s started to feel a lot better about that fact. Watching the galaxy gasp for air while being relentlessly assaulted has got him believing that maybe the humans were right, Karma really is a thing. Sarcastic, dry and quick witted, it’s hard to catch Kysar off guard when it comes to slights, usually beating those around him to the punch with some type of asshole-ish one liner. Surprisingly the guy isn’t winning any popularity contests and is a bit of a loner.
Kysar also feels no particular way when it comes to killing. He’s killed a lot of men in his time, some good, some bad, some that just needed killing. He can be both ruthless and ruthlessly efficient. He even sees the Turians current predicament as nothing to fret over. Sure, try to survive but if they didn’t and every Turian starved to death, then it was in service to the galaxy. As such, he offers no respite for their position and freely will tell people of it.
Though he still backs the Hierarchy, even he’s unsure why. Maybe it’s to prove them wrong, maybe it’s the memory of his father or the love he has for his mother, or maybe he just doesn’t see an alternative, until Sarah. Saving that woman and her family has got the Turian thinking for the first time in his life; it’s even kept him up at night once or twice. It’s possible that his mum was right and there’s more to life than being a cog in the machine or a lacky for the government. Perhaps love does exist and it’s worth the trouble. Maybe it’s high time to see one last mission through and get off this rock to find something worth having. Maybe.
INADEQUACIES AND FEARS◢
Kysar tolerates the name barefaced from the higher ups in the Hierarchy but he is unafraid to challenge anyone else. This, however, leaves him with a weakness to name calling and can be exploited. The flaw has gotten into trouble many times, with some of those times ending with him getting his ass-kicked for messing with the wrong crowd. When it comes to other species finding out and mentioning the name, the Turian is somehow even less kind. Willing to kill for the mere mention of it.
Though he serves the Hierarchy loyally and has shown to be so on many occasions, he’s still knows that he can never truly live a peaceful life among Turian society. This gives way to a deep seeded fear of loneliness. Listening to his mother’s stories of her and his father as a boy has left him wanting. While he has done his best to quash these feelings, they still linger somewhere deep down inside. He is afraid he’ll never experience love because of who he was born as. He is also susceptible to children, finding himself unable to say no and instantly throwing all thought of self-preservation out the window to protect them. Initially he believed it to just be Turian children but given what happened with Sarah and the kids, he now knows better.
Since the Unification Wars of 500CE, Turians had worn their Colony Insignias with pride. Despite their xenophobic past, the face tattoos of their species took on a new meaning after the end of the war. Even though they were now one society, working towards one single goal, their individual homes still mattered and were something to be proud of. Barefaced was the derogatory term coined for those born without such privilege. Unlucky Turians who slipped through the gaps of their great hierarchical machine were shunned and harshly labelled as untrustworthy. Outcast, these individuals banded together to form small knit communities, often creating slums in the far corners of cities on Palaven. Despite their position and treatment, these Turians still dedicated themselves to society at large by often taking remedial roles such as cleaners, garbage collectors and menial labourers.
It was here, in one of these communities on Palaven, that Kysar Proctus was born to a poor mother and ailing father. Marcellus, Kysar’s father, was born with a genetic abnormality in which his ‘exoskeleton’ like plating was significantly less dense than that of regular Turians. Doomed to a life of poor health and unable to fulfil any role in supporting the Hierarchy, the Turian was given up for adoption by a prominent family at a young age. Unfortunately, the noticeable poor formation of his plating made selection near impossible, so in the end he was given to one of Palaven’s casteless communes. It was here in this community of barefaced Turians where he met Savita, Kysar’s mother.
Curious, fierce and passionate, Savita was the life of the party, full of energy and bouncing off the walls. Opposites attracted and from a young age the two were inseparable, with admiration turning to love during their adolescence. Despite their numerous adversities, the two had a whirlwind romance, the kind songs dream of, choosing to marry at quite a young age. With Marcellus unable to work, Savita took whatever jobs she could, often monkey branching from contract to contract. There, during one of her roles as a labourer to an offworld shipping yard, she fell pregnant with Kysar. They were both overjoyed at the news and even more so when Savita gave birth to a healthy baby boy. For the next two years, the family lived in absolute bliss.
Sadly, Marcellus was not long for the world, developing an invasive and aggressive cancer that riddled the poor Turians body. He died not long after, leaving Savita broken-hearted and with a boy to raise all on her own. Life had handed her lemons but the woman never complained, finding solace in the life they had shared and determined to give the living reminder of her husband a better life than either of them were ever afforded. Savita did her best to preserve the memory of Kysar’s father and pushed the boy to become something more. At 15 Kysar was made to apply for the military alongside the majority of Turians his age. Life in the military would either make or break him, Savita thought but adolescence had been kind to the boy who was a foot taller and a decent chunk wider than most. Little did she know, it would do both.
Barefaced. That was the name the others gave him, even his instructors. They did everything they could to bring Kysar down. On top of rigorous and gruelling training, he was given the worst duties, from latrine duty to cleaning the mess alone. Bullied wherever he went, he was constantly being physically challenged by groups of kids at a time. At first, he took it, believing that that’s what a true Turian would do. Stand with honour against the slings and arrows of others, never swaying in conviction. A noble but unrealistic view, it wasn’t long before Kysar learned the grim reality of torture, that everyone breaks eventually.
One evening, after a particularly long and hard day of training, Kysar was cleaning the latrines when several other Turians entered. Fresh from a bout of hand to hand training, the group were keen to test their ability, cornering Kysar, with the leader of the clique challenging him one on one. The teenager knew it was a trap, even if he bested their leader or came close to it, the others would join in and he would return back to his cot covered in bruises. He tried to walk away but the others encircled him, their leader calling him every name in the book, throwing the odd hook here and there. It wasn’t until they began on his mother that the group really got underneath his skin. Shoving the leader back, the group pounced, fists and feet flying everywhere as they pummelled Kysar into the wall. It was there, in that moment, that the young Turian thought of his mother, ashamed that he had failed her and the memory of his father. He knew she wanted more from him but he could no longer abstain from temptation.
Anger surged through him like lightning as a blue light enveloped his being. The more they punched, the stronger the light grew, finally erupting with a roar from Kysar. The others flew back through stalls and walls, each of them receiving some sort of serious injury. The Turian had just discovered he was a biotic.
Branches shifted with Kysar being made to train with the Cabals. Life was harder and more physical than ever before. Here they were pushed to be the best of the best and there was no room, or tolerance, for weakness of any kind. Trainees were to be ground into dust so they could be remade from clay anew. Still an outcast, Kysar was no longer left behind. Trained in everything from infiltration to piloting, a Cabal was only as strong as its weakest link. His Kabalim, Inventus Scipio, was one of the best. The aging Turian always seemed to churn out the cream of the crop but was often mired in controversy. He was obsessed with personal glory and seemingly clung to this feeling by constantly putting his own needs above that of hierarchy.
Regardless, Kysar was finally becoming the Turian he had always dreamt of. The Cabal moved past training and into live scenarios. Their first assignment handed to them by Scipio was to infiltrate a recently formed smuggling ring. Turian military hardware was being sold to the Blue Suns by an unknown official and it was their job to find out who. Kysar was chosen to make contact with a long standing inside man they had placed within the Suns, who would then accompany him during weapon sales. The goal was to offer them the same hardware at a better price, hopefully drawing their competitor out of the shadows or at least gathering more information about them. The rest of the group would play supporting roles, keeping an eye on hand offs from the shadows and finding what they could through any other means. Kysar played the role of smuggler for years, gathering all the evidence he could but was always seemingly one step behind his faux rival. It wasn’t until a deal went wrong that the Turian found out why.
Deep in the hidden corridors of the Citadel, the usual suspects met to complete the transaction. A crate of Armax Arsenal was on offer, being sold for a quarter of what they were worth on the open market. The deal unfolded just like any other until officers from C-Sec swooped in from all sides. Outgunned and outmanned, the few there surrendered, with Kysar coming in without issue. In the interrogation room, the Turian spilled out their sting operation, angry that C-Sec had interfered with Cabal operations. The officers retorted with an investigation of their own, dropping a huge vanilla folder packed to the brim with evidence. They claimed that there was no ‘other smuggling ring’, only his. Laid out before him were logs upon logs of evidence, claiming that Kysar had gone rogue due to his mistreatment in the military, highlighting the incidents reported during his youth as a root cause. They then went on to show how the report of the original smuggling ring was doctored, an excuse to launch a venture of his own.
It was impossible, the Turian claimed, he couldn’t have co-ordinated this by himself as a mere trainee. Plus, the others in his Cabal could also vouch for him, they too were put on assignment and Scipio had all their proof collected. The C-Sec officers then produced further evidence; no one in his Cabal, bar Kysar, had been assigned to any such thing. The truth finally dawned on the young Turian when his Kabalim entered the room. Scipio played the victim, disgusted by his students choices, condemning him as a Turian and claiming that he knew he shouldn’t have allowed a barefaced into the program. The case was airtight and of course the money from the smuggling had disappeared into the ether. Now there was just one loose end to take care of. Invictus asked for the officers to clear the room, releasing Kysar to make it appear as if he had broken free. When asked why he did it, Scipio simply laughed, it was the money of course, the military paid like shit and…
Kysar ignited, hitting his former instructor with a slam mid speech. The Kabalim hit the floor with with such force, his side arm came loose. The young Turian was quick to collect it and even quicker to fire, killing the older of the two. When interviewed later, officers would ask Kysar why, if he was truly innocent, would he kill Scipio.
“I knew the score.” Kysar replied. “He betrayed us all and was going to get away with it. There was no choice, not really.”
With murder of a senior official added to the charge list, Kysar was sent to Purgatory. Despite the claim of the prison’s warden, the floating penal colony was easier on the Turian than his time in the military. The guards, mostly made up of his own kind, were quick to resurrect his old label of barefaced. Though, finally off the leash, any inmate who repeated such a thing was killed unless the guards got there first. Held over the course of several years, the Turian earned a reputation just shy of their meanest inmate, Jack. Perhaps inspired by the best, he also allowed other human inmates to tattoo his face, seeing it as a final ‘fuck you’ to the customs that had plagued him his whole life. He may have been clanless but at least he was now his own Turian.
Freedom came shortly after, when Shepard’s release of Jack brought the entire prison crashing down around them. Overpowering a guard moments after the kerfuffle began, Kysar managed to acquire a gun, using it to force his way onto one of the few lifeboats on board. Ejecting from the doomed vessel alone, the Turian fled the system, charting a course for Palaven. Instead of choosing to go on the run, Kysar returned to the Hierarchy in a bid to honour Turian tradition and try to clear his name once and for all. Impressed with the soldier’s survivability, the powers that be promptly threw him back into military prison, resealing his case without further investigation. There he remained until the Reaper invasion.
Attacking several systems at once, the Reapers moved quickly to overwhelm both the Batarian and Human forces. Striking at the Turians next, Taetrus fell before the Hierarchy could lift a finger. With the realisation of just what they were up against dawning on every species, the brass was quick to enact a sweeping declaration. All hands were needed on deck and those in military prison had a chance of freedom if they signed up for the ‘Extreme Tactical Insertion Squads’, colloquially known as suicide squads. Not wishing to die in prison, Kysar signed and was assigned to a squad of 15 others. Their first task was to wait as Fleets 29 through 32 retook the Mactare Relay then they would follow with a planet invasion of Taetrus.
Warp bombs were sent via the relay to clear the enemy laying in wait on the other side. The Hierarchy’s tactic of smothering the enemy with overwhelming force was employed with the fleets performing a mass jump. What followed was horrific. Live videos were broadcasted from the Reapers as they tore the fleets apart, followed by more footage of them saturating ground forces planet side. The order for reinforcements to be sent through the relay came just as the Reapers appeared, Palaven side.
Kysar’s mission was scrapped, with his new one being to report for active duty on Manae. There, he and his squad were put to the test by clearing LZ’s and scouting positions for forward bases. Unable to get a communication away to his mother on Palaven, Kysar's request to be redeployed to the surface was denied. The fighting on Manae continued, even after the assassination of their Primarch and the flight of their newly appointed General turned politician. They were ordered to hold for as long as possible until reinforcements arrived.
Doing so in the most unexpected fashion, re-supply came in the form of Krogans who hit the planet's surface running. Together, ground forces on Palaven pushed back the Reapers and gained significant ground. It was a huge morale boost for the Turians with Kysar and squad being ordered to return to orbit and link up with 6th Fleet. There they’d assault the Cerberus held world of Aephus, infiltrating and downing several anti-air batteries, allowing the fleet to take back the surface and send the human terrorist organisation packing.
A final order was given for the Turians dwindling squad to meet up for a final assault on Earth. Linking up with an armada of galactic forces, Kysar’s mission was to assist the human’s in a direct assault on London. They were to reach a forward base in the capital before participating in a final attack on a heavily fortified Reaper position. Saddled up, the crew made it far enough to be dropped from orbit in one of many Kodiaks. Reaper resistance was fierce as the crew approached the FOB, with flak from AA darkening the sky. Just as their target crested the horizon, the crew were winged by shrapnel, sending the carrier careening towards the ground. Crash-landing in the desolate city, they were quickly engaged by Reaper ground forces, pushing the five survivors of Kysar’s squad into a nearby office building. Doing what they could, the Turian’s barricaded the door. Attempting to establish communication with command, all they were met with was the static of white noise.
Stranded on a foreign world in the middle of a warzone, the squad began to panic. Kysar tempered their fear by suggesting that they head to the roof. The building was effectively a maze, the Reapers could lose track of them and a visible line of sight would help them reconnect with their main objective. With everyone in agreement, the crew made their way up a single floor, only to bump into a small family of surviving humans. Two children, a boy and a girl, a young woman and a man begged Kysar’s squad for help. The husband was in a bad way, bleeding heavily from a gunshot to the gut, they had been caught in the commotion caused by the Turians crash landing. The others in the squad were quick to dismiss them, there was little hope for them as things were without the anchoring of civilians.
Kysar, on the other hand, couldn’t help but draw a parallel between the humans. It was something about the way the wife dragged her husband along, something in her eyes that screamed determination. She wasn’t going to give up on him, just like his mother refused to give up on his father. Kysar ordered the others to go on ahead, picking up the husband and slinging him over his shoulder. He would be right behind them.
Scrambling up the stairwell, everyone moved as quickly as they could. The squad had long moved ahead when Kysar began to hear shooting. Reapers had dropped in from above, with dozens upon dozens of husks scaling the side of the building and scouring it for survivors. Ducking onto the 33rd floor, Kysar burst through the door, barricading them all in an office, preparing to make a final stand. Deciding to radio into command one final time, he received word that Shepard was aboard the Citadel and was trying to activate the Conduit. His final orders were to survive and pray to the Spirits that the human could end this. With his rifle empty, Kyser made his final stand, unleashing his biotics as husks began to break through the barrier. As hopelessness closed in around them, a blinding red light rushed from on high, blanketing the city.
The husks fell dead as Kysar, wounded but alive, returned to the office to celebrate. Sadly for the family, the Turian was only able to share in a bittersweet moment, finding the husband dead in his wife’s arms. Leaving them to their moment, Kysar climbed the stairwell to find the body of three of his comrades. Removing their dog tags, he pocketed them and returned once more to wrap the body of the man. Spotting the FOB, the survivors make their way across, meeting up and being processed with the few that remained.
Reconnecting with what was left of High Command, Kysar came to learn that their forces had committed to the restoration of the relay. Dextro rations were finite and the stranded Turian population numbers in the millions. Without possibility of resupply on Earth, returning back to their own system was their only hope. Brought before General Invectus, Kysar was told he is one of the last biotic soldiers that remained. The Cabals were all but wiped out during their high-risk missions and the Turian is needed now more than ever. Admiral Nitesh, leader of the human forces, had been making moves that left the non-human forces wary. As such Kysar’s orders were to infiltrate the ranks of the Earth forces and report back on their movements. Finding the irony hilarious, he reluctantly agrees on the written promise that if he does it, he’ll be free from prison. Accepting their arrangement, the General detailed his mission as two-fold. Several downed Turian ships had been raided by human survivors, rations had been taken and were now being sold in a black-market rings. Kysar is to do his part in dismantling this network or expose it to the correct authorities. His other mission is to keep an eye on Admiral Nitesh Singh as the Hierarchy doesn’t trust him. He’s to report anything that is ordered of him as a part of this new group that has arisen.
- Armour Piercing Ammo speciality - Lift grenades - Slam - Overload
ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND CRIMES◢
Purgatory Rap Sheet
- Numerous Accounts of Treason - Numerous Accounts of Smuggling - Numerous Accounts of Sale of Illegal Goods - Numerous Accounts of Grand Larceny - 1 Count of 1st Degree Murder - 1 Count of Murder of a Military Official - Numerous Accounts of Assault - Numerous Accounts of Manslaughter - Numerous Accounts of 2nd Degree Murder
- Battle Honour Recorded for the Battle of Manae x2 - Battle Honour Recorded for the Battle of Aephus - Battle Honour Recorded for the Battle of London, Earth
RELATIONS AND AFFILIATIONS◢
- General Invectus - Alive - Atticus Basilic, ETIS Squadmate - MIA - Refugee Sarah Parker - Alive - Refugee Wendy Parker - Alive - Refugee Matthew Parker - Alive - Savita Proctus - Status Unknown
(For group members and NPCs; fill after IC introduction)
CREDITS & VALUABLES◢ Letter from Parker Family, Physical Picture of Mother and Father, 1000 creds
@Andreyich and @Mao Mao, thank you for your submissions. Unfortunately, we can only accept so many at this point. You guys will be on the waitlist and we'll let you know when we're open again in the future.
I like in the background that Kaya shows a lot of humanity when it comes to his job when he is confronted with innocence, it makes him question his purpose for a moment.
He seems like a very noble character with good intentions, however jumping from protecting his colony to killing multiple reapers might be a big jump, especially with an alcohol habit.
Would like to know more about the appearance - any particular visual quirks for example.
More details regarding Kaya's appearance and his time during the reaper war would be appreciated.
Yeah, I really like this sheet. He's Krogan but you haven't shoved him into the stereotypical Krogan box. You actually layered up a lot of nice touches and added in some things there that were really poetic and beautiful. He feels and reads differently to your other ME characters and I like that. It's nice to switch things up.
What I get about Karnoc is that he's very observant of behaviours around him and how that then reflects on him, and more aptly, his species as a whole. He tries to take these positive traits and apply them instead of hating on other races for them. That's really interesting.
Overall, this is a solid character, it's very serious but you've added light notes to him as well as some plain humorous ones. I like that. Just a thoughtful piece of work as always. I think Karnoc will actually be Sol's first friend.
Wow, our poor vanguard really went through the wringer. You've shown very clearly that Sigma is a survivor, from appearance to mentality to his flaws. He's a great example of how the average kid, the average soldier and the average experiment often gets left out in the grander schemes of the galaxy.
His aesthetics tie in well with his background, and his flaws are quite appropriate given his experiences. In addition, Sigma is going to be a valuable member of the team as a vanguard.
We just need to see a little more in Sigma's outlook and background. How did his biotic skills evolve during his career? What's his take on the wider galaxy while working for Eclipse? Any thoughts of his father, now he's back on Earth?
It is cool to see the combination of asari and turian values explored through Lia's background. The dynamics between species is often talked about in the games, but not often presented through a personal lens like you did here. Her evolution, growth and gradual emotional decay make Lia's history a compelling read.
Lia nicely embodies what an asari commando would be in the current situation. Although she's on the winning side, what people would assume as a successful career weighs heavily on her psyche. At the end of the day, you've made it eveident she just wants to go home. It'll be fun to see how she interacts with the rest of us.
An asari with no biotic skills is rare and super fascinating. Add in the ardat-yakshi spectrum, and you've got something truly unique. What makes Jan amazing is not only the novelty, but a relatable story and well-developed personality.
Her experiences with isolation and online social interaction are especially relevant given the current OOC world. IC-wise, her tech-focused sentinel skills will absolutely come in handy. The inclusion of a farm net as the submission net power is ingenious. Well done!
Kysar's childhood, training, imprisonment and military service all shaped him in unique ways. His outlook is a very realistic blend of pragmatism and idealism; honoring tradition and family yet unafraid to take out whatever's in his way. The surprise twists make Kybar's story an exciting read.
Having to report to Invectus will surely give Kysar some interesting objectives. It'll be fun to see how he balances his comradery among our group with his commitments to the turian command. His loyalty mission should be a blast!
Ah, sweet cousin Sol. What a cool way to integrate astrology and tarot themes into her background; truly a standout part of her sheet. Solveig's mommy issues are a pivotal part of her struggles, which is balanced nicely from the spirituality provided by her father. She pulls off the lone wolf infiltrator with a lot of humanity, while avoiding the cliche of edgy sociopaths.
Looks like this infiltrator isn't afraid to strong-arm her through things. Her introspective and analytical personality doesn't just create complex social interactions, but also gives her unique advantages and disadvantages in battle.
The conflict is real with this one. Not only is he scarred by Cerberus' "upgrades", but his insecurities and lack of belonging also make for compelling flaws. You've made an intriguing ex-Cerberus character and an engineer with valuable skills to the team.
However, we believe Oslo's story can be better expanded in areas such as his indoctrination and implants. Him being a cyborg may also be slightly difficult given the potential damage from the crucible, and hiding his true nature can be awkward when working with the rest of the cast.
Tamás is very much a motivated individual. You did a good job shining light on what's behind his motivations. His background has strong ties to galactic events. His skills and weaknesses match up perfectly with his work and trauma.
While Tamás' sheet is excellent overall, his appearance can be more detailed. He has a precise direction for what needs to be done, though this direction can be singular and might not fit with the rest of the group.