Argetlam350

Mass Effect- Seraphim

Alya'Marek vas Halla

Name: Alya'Marek vas Halla

Race: Quarian

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Appearance:


Personality: She's very arrogant and sarcastic and likes to sketch in between missions.

Backstory:Alya has the honor of being an exile from the Flotilla. She was a general nuisance for her fellow Quarians, being an irritating trickster at heart along with stealing tech or objects from other Quarians to tinker with. Eventually her escapades came to a head with the rest of the Fleet when she mistakenly caused a small explosion on one of the liveships. Luckily it was contained rather quickly but due to several quarians being injured and the potential risk and devastating effects that could of happened if the liveship had been lost, she was put on trial and gave her a one way ticket off ship in her late teens (much to everyone’s relief). Not that it bothered her much, since she practically asked for it and cares little for her own people and the Flotilla. Why should she care for people who to her seemed more like cowards then anything else.

Following the exile, Alya managed to hitch a ride to Illium alone and homeless and in desperate need of work. Luckily, it wasn’t long before she got help from a sympathetic quarian, who landed her a spot on the Dire'Sila when it was in dire need of repairs for cheap. In exchange for the repairs and continuous management, she was allowed to stay on board and have somewhere to live. She would learn over time that the Dire'Sila crew dealt it less savory matters then normal trade goods. Their usual bounties put them in a gray area of the law in the system which had Alya learning how to use weaponry to be able to aid the crew when things went worst then expected.

Eventually though she decided to move on leaving her home aboard the Dire'Sila (along with a handful of tools and objects from her ex-crew members) and taking a small ship of her own named the Halla. She began to advertise herself as a mercenary to help afford her repairs of the Halla and supplies. She learned a trick or two on the Dire'Sila that she saw she could put to use, for the right few. Over years she was able to hone her skills while also being able to indulge in her hobby of sketching and tinkering with various forms of tech. While now the Quarian homeworld has been retaken, she has no desire to return to her people, let alone the fact that they no doubt wouldn't want her back either. She is content with her life as a mercenary.

Specialty: Engineer/Soldier

Powers/Skills:
-Tactical Scan
-Incinerate
-Marksman
-Cryo Blast
-Fitness

Equipment:
-M-29 Incisor
-M-3 Predator
-M-99 Saber Assault Rifle
-Omni-tool, primarily used for hacking

Misc: Her current tinker toy is a broken geth spitfire, she salvaged shortly after the Reaper's defeat.
"What is bravery, without a dash of recklessness!" personal quote

Theme:

Mass Effect- Seraphim

@Vulkan Will work on it and oops, I don't know why but for some reason I always seem to randomly just mix quarian and qunari. Doesn't help that I enjoy either race for their respected series I guess. As for her exile I'll probably change it to something else but the geth thing was all I could come with at the time for her being exiled. Though the more I look at it and think on the character the more it just doesn't seem to work. Maybe change it to something else on why she was exiled.

EDIT:

Did a little tinkering with the history for her exile, think it would fit better with someone like her being a trickster at a young age and tinkering with objects and tech that she took from others.

Mass Effect- Seraphim

Alya'Marek vas Halla

Name: Alya'Marek vas Halla

Race: Quarian

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Appearance:


Personality: She's very arrogant and sarcastic and likes to sketch in between missions.

Backstory:Alya has the honor of being an exile from the Flotilla. She was a general nuisance for her fellow Quarians, being an irritating trickster at heart along with stealing tech or objects from other Quarians to tinker with. Eventually her escapades came to a head with the rest of the Fleet when she mistakenly caused a small explosion on one of the liveships. Luckily it was contained rather quickly but due to several quarians being injured and the potential risk and devastating effects that could of happened if the liveship had been lost, she was put on trial and gave her a one way ticket off ship in her late teens (much to everyone’s relief). Not that it bothered her much, since she practically asked for it and cares little for her own people and the Flotilla. Why should she care for people who to her seemed more like cowards then anything else.

Following the exile, Alya managed to hitch a ride to Illium alone and homeless and in desperate need of work. Luckily, it wasn’t long before she got help from a sympathetic quarian, who landed her a spot on the Dire'Sila when it was in dire need of repairs for cheap. In exchange for the repairs and continuous management, she was allowed to stay on board and have somewhere to live. She would learn over time that the Dire'Sila crew dealt it less savory matters then normal trade goods. Their usual bounties put them in a gray area of the law in the system which had Alya learning how to use weaponry to be able to aid the crew when things went worst then expected.

Eventually though she decided to move on leaving her home aboard the Dire'Sila (along with a handful of tools and objects from her ex-crew members) and taking a small ship of her own named the Halla. She began to advertise herself as a mercenary to help afford her repairs of the Halla and supplies. She learned a trick or two on the Dire'Sila that she saw she could put to use, for the right few. Over years she was able to hone her skills while also being able to indulge in her hobby of sketching and tinkering with various forms of tech. While now the Quarian homeworld has been retaken, she has no desire to return to her people, let alone the fact that they no doubt wouldn't want her back either. She is content with her life as a mercenary.

Specialty: Engineer/Soldier

Powers/Skills:
-Tactical Scan
-Incinerate
-Marksman
-Cryo Blast
-Fitness

Equipment:
-M-29 Incisor
-M-3 Predator
-M-99 Saber Assault Rifle
-Omni-tool, primarily used for hacking

Misc: Her current tinker toy is a broken geth spitfire, she salvaged shortly after the Reaper's defeat.

Mass Effect- Seraphim

interest is peaked.

The Red Hoods: Initiates

Bartholomew Whitlock

---

Bartholomew exited his carriage, putting a hand over his eyes as his eyes adjusted from the musky, dark interior of the carriage, to the bright morning day. He had little time to take in the surroundings before being shoved out of the carriage by an accompanying Red Hood. He huffed in annoyance as he stumbled forward before being escorted to others who seemed were stuck like he was now. Death or serve were their only options and they chose to serve. It wasn't long after though that those who seemed to of joined willingly were also part of the entourage of new recruits.

While walking to the keep a rather scarred man seemed to be directing them aggressively to their destination. Spotting his staring the man barked at him to which Bartholomew briefly just glared at him, not minding one bit to let the wolf eat him on a full moon, but continued onward shortly after, pushing those thoughts aside. Soon they were inside and locked in going by the sound of the drawbridge behind him. There was no going back now, never was after the choice had been made but the reality seemed to sink in deeper for Tholo at that moment. His focus turned to the three figures to the front of all the assembled new initiates, waiting for whatever would happen next.

The Red Hoods: Initiates

Bartholomew Whitlock

Bartholomew Whitlock

Sex: Male
Age: 35
Height: 6' 1''
Species: Werewolf

Volunteered or Sentenced to join the Red Hoods: Sentenced to join.

Physical abnormalities (tattoos, scars, etc): Large claw and bite marks across his body, from the attack that left him cursed. A brand that marks him as a werewolf on his neck, given when forced to serve for the Red Hoods.

Theme:


Anything else we need to know about you right off the bat (optional):
Only the sound of water dripping off of stone reverberated off the cold walls. He had lost track of time trapped inside his cell, shackled to the walls. No light entered making it impossible to tell whether it was day or night, only by the beast inside him could Bartholomew tell when the sun had set and the moon rose, it getting more restless with each passing night, knowing that the full moon was drawing nearer.

Ever since his affliction had occurred he had hidden himself away, moving his home into the nearby woods of his birth village, becoming a reclusive hermit. He only entered the village once or twice a month for certain supplies but had kept to himself. Those nights of the full moon, the beast would take over, his mind taken over by hunger and the need to hunt. How he had managed to keep himself from eating a human he did not know but for the most part the beast remained in the woods on those nights, content on hunting down the wildlife and ripping them to pieces. All until another beast tried to claim his territory, his hunting grown.

The fight that had followed led them to close to the village, the townsfolk hearing some form of commotion. By the time he had proven victorious, they had seen him. He managed to reign in some control to get the beast to turn and go into the woods but he was wounded and it was nearly day. The villagers had given chase and then found him, bare to the sun and covered in blood. He struggled but was beaten into submission and hauled off to await death.

The scrapping of wood against stone awoke Bartholomew from his light slumber, the torch light from the doorway blinding him. Even without sight though he could tell by scent that this was not his usual visit by the guards for his usual torment and beatings.

"So the Hoods have finally come," he said with a scratchy voice and huff ",To make sure one cursed monster is gone from this existence." Bartholomew got no response in return, only silence greeted him from his visitor.

"No," his visitor stated after several minutes of silence ",I'm not here to watch you die but rather give you an ultimatum. You might be a cursed child of man and beast, but the Red Hood could use your unique.... talents lets call them."

"Oh and why should I help you?" Bartholomew asked in annoyance.

"Because if you wish to live and not die like a mongrel beast, then this is your only choice out of here. Live or die Mr. Whitlock, the choice is yours."

It only took him a brief moment to decide. As much as Bartholomew hated his cursed fate, to share his body with the monster beneath, he still wished for life and a purpose. Now one was given to him, one that might let him have some form of redemption or at least a suiting death instead of rotting in that cell.

"Where do I sign."

The Red Hoods: Initiates

Hider

Bartholomew Whitlock

Sex: Male
Age: 35
Height: 6' 1''
Species: Werewolf

Volunteered or Sentenced to join the Red Hoods: Sentenced to join.

Physical abnormalities (tattoos, scars, etc): Large claw and bite marks across his body, from the attack that left him cursed. A brand that marks him as a werewolf on his neck, given when forced to serve for the Red Hoods.

Anything else we need to know about you right off the bat (optional):
nada at the moment

The Red Hoods: Initiates

I'll get my oc up after work.

Red Hoods: Little Red Riding Hood

Hmm sounds interesting

Uncharted Isle. (A Monster Hunter RP)

Tyrin watched the Remobra, waiting for his own opening to strike it down. The beast eventually took another chance to attack, but this time Tyrin was ready and he launched forward to meet the beast's attack with his own large blade.
"Not this time you ugly little beast," he stated bringing his weapon down upon the creature.

While Tyrin dealt with his Remobra, Tove's situation had evolved into an another matter entirely. Having missed his attack and landed on the Remobra's back he had proceeded his best to hold on tightly to the creature, shouting a curse here and there as he was thrown about on its back, doing his best to try and stab at the creature."Eck I'm going to be sick," the felyne muttered as he managed to pierce the creature a few times ",stupid beast, stupid boat."