The exchange between he and Jordan was short-lived, even more so than normal. It seemed a lot of his conversations with anyone these days was brief. Too many interruptions. Life getting in the way. Blah. Blah. Blah. And while the kid seemed to be constantly glued to his phone as though jacked into the Matrix, Alex still liked having Jordan around. The cell vibrated, indicating a text, and he smirked when he saw Alana's message. He knew she would come, well, there was that sliver of doubt, but probably stemming from anxiety than anything else. The one trait he and Lana had in common was neither one of them liked parties. But, to not show up would probably be worse as they wouldn't hear the end of it.
His attention turned back to Jordan, but, before he even had a chance to respond, the snarky tone of Ricky Quinn crept up behind him like a cold shadow lurking. Alex swore a tingle would run up his spine every time the dude was in the vicinity. Like, "Spidey-sense", but more annoying. Of course, the moody jock always started just about any conversation with sarcasm, as though that was the only prescribe education he'd been exposed to.
Alex simply smirked though, barely even wanting to acknowledge the guys terrible humor. "Sup, Ricky?" He gave the other a quick nod, which is all he really deserved. But, any retort toward the guy would only cause a vicious circle of remarks back and forth, which would probably never end, or start a riot. Either way, Alex wasn't in the mood, nor did he care to feed the beast. He managed to throw Jordan a peace sign when the kid scooted off, before turning back to Ricky.
"So-uh, enjoy the party then." He said, all but ending the conversation as his attention suddenly looked past Ricky and spotted Lana. He couldn't help but allow a grin to form from ear to ear as she shot him a wink, and looked back at Ricky with that same goofy smile. "Oh, by the way, you mind if I take a quick picture of you? I think Jordan needs one for his collection of suspects."
Okay, so perhaps Alex needed to insert a bit of sarcasm. Lana was there after all, and that made his heart happy.
"The winner ain't the one with the fastest car, it's the one who refuses to lose."
- Dale Earnhardt -
♣ Back to the basics
Name Trevor Murphy
What I go by “Trev” or “Tre”
Age Twenty-two
Gender Male
Sexuality Hetero
Birth Date: October 25
Title I’m the Wheelman, loyal and faithful to The West End Mob.
♣ The Reflection in the Mirror
Height 6’1
Weight 195
Eye Color Blue
Hair Color dark brown to black
Ethnicity Irish-American
Physical Appearance
Attire Casual for the most part considering he’s either behind the wheel or elbow deep in repair jobs. Jeans, Converse, tshirt, and jacket or hoodie. Essentially anything he didn’t mind getting dirty if it came down to it. He left the “rich” clothing to his colleagues.
♣ Weaponry & Skills
Standard Weapon Glock, Butterfly knife, brass knuckles
Skills ▷ One of the best get-away drivers ▷ Knows his way around most cars / can fix most issues ▷ Pretty good with computers. ▷ Decent in a hand-to-hand combat & a fire fight.
Strengths ▷ Confidence ▷ Determined/Decisive ▷ Amiable - can get along with mostly everyone without much resistance.
Weaknesses ▷ Impatient ▷ Not a fan of conflict (tries to avoid if possible) ▷ Impulsive ▷ Risk-Taker
♣ Things I waste my Time With
Hobbies ▷ Rebuilding Cars ▷ Video Games ▷ Amateur Drag Racing
Dislike ▷ Disrespecting His Car ▷ Pushiness ▷ Dishonesty Amongst Family ▷ Smoking
♣ What I’m Really Like
Trevor is, for the most part, a stand-up guy, and you pretty much get what you see. He’s confident in what he does, as he does it well, and rarely is there a complaint out of his mouth. A wise-cracker at heart, the kid tends to use humor as a way of coping with life, especially stressful situations, which in his line of work can be plenty. Although he tends to feel the most at home behind the wheel. Trevor will usually go that extra stretch of road for close friends, family, allies, and anyone he sees worthwhile. He doesn’t always ask for much in return, at least not right away, but rather racking up the “favors” in hopes of trading them in for something much larger later on.
♣ All About My Past
Does a certain past truly define who we are, or what we’ll become in the future? When we grow up, are we going to follow in our parent’s footsteps, or carve our own path to fortune and glory? Trevor Murphy was born and raised on Long Island, in the hamlet of Bellmore, to a family of loving well-established parents, and two older sisters who seemed to have better things to do than hang around their baby brother. Well, seven years can be quite a gap after all, but he didn’t worry about, considering he had plenty to keep his overactive mind occupied. You see, John Murphy, the patriarch of the household, made a pretty good living for him and his family by opening several auto garages across Long Island and one in Manhattan. And Trevor -perhaps being the only other male in the household- naturally gravitated toward cars, learning everything he could from his dad and first-hand experience working at the local garage.
As time went on, school and responsibilities came and went, and the boy grew to be a young man who loved what most guys his age liked, including cars. At seventeen, he built his first car from an old mustang, restoring it enough to get a nice price tag for it, which help him to build his second car, - a sleek, sexy, black and chrome 1969 Chevelle - which he still has and prizes to this day. And also, as time passed, Trevor began to realize that the money his father was pulling in and used to support his family wasn’t necessarily the cleanest money. Enter, the Irish mafia, or more specifically, the West End Mob, who apparently struck a deal with my father to use his operation as a front for money laundering as well as firearms smuggling.
Great. So what was a kid to do with this kind of knowledge? Well, lucky for him he didn’t have to think on it long considering he was then approached by one of the mob’s lieutenants, offering the twenty year old a job as a “runner”, with the promise of making some serious money on the side. Trevor reluctantly took up the offer -like he really had a choice- and began working for the Westies after school and sometimes on weekends. It wasn’t until they needed him to be their getaway driver for a particular job in Brooklyn that they saw the real potential in the kid who would soon become their official “wheelman”.
Like all Chiss, Sai’rys was born with blue skin tone, jet black hair, and eyes that emanate a dim crimson glow. As for his general attire, he leans towards darks mostly, complete with a multi-pocketed jacket/hoodie combo, small utility belt, and backpack. To further blend in with his surroundings -to the point of almost feeling invisible- he’ll toss the hood over his head.
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
Equipped Gear ▷ Wrist Computer - pulls up holos for system diagnostics and/or slicing. ▷ Data Spikes (Slicer Gear) ▷ Data Breaker (Slicer Gear) ▷ Small Techie Toolkit (rear tool pouch) ▷ A180 Blaster Pistol which he has since customized.
Stored Gear ▷ An assortment of clothes that he had packed away in a rucksack before boarding the Noreaster ▷ Miscellaneous tools and computer parts he’d collected.
| {Physical Abilities} |
▷ Above average dexterity. ▷ Photographic memory ▷ Systems programming, slicing, and repair knowledge. ▷ Hologram forging ▷ Basic small firearms handling and cleaning ▷ Self-Defense
| {Limitations} |
▷ Obsessive Compulsive Disorder: He likes things the way he likes things, and -save for perhaps threatening his life- there is very little you can do to dissuade him otherwise. ▷ Insomnia: His mind just won’t quit sometimes, which makes it tough to get a decent night’s rest, which in-turn causes fatigue unless taken care of.
| {Personality} |
Sai’rys is highly intelligent, yet introverted for the most part, and the social awkward side of him isn’t too far behind. But over time, and under the right conditions, he can be less rigid and a little more talkative to those he trusts. He tends to feel more at home surrounded by tech, and would more likely engage in conversations with a computer than any actual flesh and blood being. Droids do tend to share a special place in his heart, but only so far, considering their thought processes are not so much like his on many levels. At times, or perhaps under stressful situations, he may speak more in code as though comparing himself to a terminal or operating system.
| {Place of Origin} |
Born twenty-five years before the Battle of Yavin on the Republic controlled planet of Coruscant in the seedy undercity, Sai’rys was already exposed to the galaxies worst bunch of losers right in his own backyard. Both parents worked within the entertainment district in a particular capacity: his mother facilitated Sabacc sessions mostly, while his father was essentially hired muscle. The two seemed to make a great team, that was until his mother died of a drug overdose. His father, now the sole caretaker of their only child, did what any self-respected parent would do in a situation they couldn't handle. He left.
| {Background} |
Life after abandonment was a series of rollercoasters which could only be satisfied by hanging with kids worse off than him, and Sai’rys found plenty of those while being holed up in one children's shelter after another. So the Chiss who had no one, suddenly found himself surrounded by people just like him. The outcasts. The has-beens. The forgotten. They were his family, and they were everywhere.
In later adolescence, Sai’rys eventually aged out of any obligations the shelters had to hold him, and so he left, taking what survival skills he’d learned and putting them to use on his own. Stealing, Conning, Gambling, and his personal favourite, Slicing. This particular skill seemed to overshadow the others as he continued to teach himself the finer points of breaching security protocols, falsifying identifications, and making a few extra credits on the side from very grateful clients. The kid needed a challenge it seemed at every turn, and while hanging out in the entertainment district, he decided to delve into a bit of holographic forging, switching several of the “dancing girl” holos scattered about into various Republic government officials. Of course, the laughs didn’t last long, as CorSec officers eventually caught up with the young male, arresting him for various misdemeanors and network attacks.
Eventually, realizing how much of an asset the boy could actually be, a deal was made to release him and expunge his record if he would agree to assist Republic Intelligence in deciphering several intercepted coded messages. So, Sai’rys took the deal, and after some time, was able to decode the transmission which ended up being blueprints for additional Imperial starships secretly built at the Kuat Drive Yard. Unfortunately, however, “freedom” came with a heavy price, as Sai’rys was tagged with a tracking beacon to be monitored by CorSec as well as put on retainer should they need his services again.
This did not sit well with the Chiss and he reached out to as many of his underground networks as possible to find a way to remove the tracking beacon and get the hell off Coruscant...
Clu Zanith was his name, a Muun who happened to answer the kid’s call for help through several dark channels within the Undercity. Sai’rys didn’t necessarily trust a Muun, but he also knew they were good for their word as long as some kind of ironclad contractual agreement was made beforehand. And for a species of business moguls and information brokers, it was no surprise that that Clu knew enough about the Chiss to see him as quite the asset indeed, insinuating within his correspondence the need for someone of his “particular skill set”. Was this a job offer? He didn’t know. But what was pretty much guaranteed, was that Clu Zanith was his only chance to get the tracker removed from his neck, and hopefully without any serious damage to the kid’s nervous system. In the end, it turned out to be a relatively painless procedure, albeit, taken care of essentially in the back room of a grimy strip club. But, the beacon was removed, and Sai’rys himself took the liberty of planting it on an unsuspecting club patron as they exited the premises.
And the next step? Well, turned out he was being offered a job by the Muun, aboard an old CR90 Corvette referred to as the “Noreaster”, whatever the hell that was. Honestly, it didn’t take much for the Chiss to be convinced that hiding out from Coruscant authorities aboard a relatively unknown ship would be a benefit. So, after Sai’rys officially joined the crew of the Noreaster he naturally began poking around only to realize that the ships security systems needed a massive overhaul because, according to him, it was an “embarrassment” and “a toddler could penetrate their system”.
But he also knew that this would be his new home, at least for awhile.
Appearance: At just over six feet, Blake’s long, lean frame stands taller than the average female, that’s if she could stand on her own. Bound to a wheelchair since a car accident rendered the lower half of her body paralyzed, she is forced to look up at most people. Scars left over from the accident line the right side of her face, but she does little to hide them. Her dark hair hangs about mid-back, but is kept fastened neatly in a bun or some intricate braid most of the time. Her choice in business attire accentuates her friendly and generally approachable personality, coupled with a tough-as-nails demeanor when working to further the Corporation’s business interests. The most striking features -or so she’d been told on many occasions- are her emerald eyes, which seem to give off an iridescence depending on the lighting, and hopefully detract attention from her scars.
Ring Location: City
Occupation: Cyber Security Specialist for Hiroshi Technologies.
Real Life Skills: ◇ Piano ◇ Painting ◇ Computer Diagnostics ◇ Penetration Testing ◇ Hacking (Whitehat generally) ◇ Information Gathering
Likes: ◇ Listening to classical music, especially while working ◇ Solving puzzles ◇ Increasing her technical knowledge in and out of The Universe ◇ Coffee ◇ Quiet
Dislikes: ◇ Loud and obnoxious areas (or people) ◇ People who stare ◇ Having to do something twice ◇ Greed (which actually plays a part in her perception of corporations)
Items ◇ Tablet - used for work and communication. ◇ Earpiece ◇ Manual and powered wheelchair ◇ High-end stationary ARC chair with all the bells and whistles ◇ Portable ARC system complete with joystick that fits onto wheelchair. ◇ Stun baton
Personality: Blake is quiet, polite, courteous, and well spoken in her mannerisms, yet fairly reserved when not being spoken to directly. Overall, she exudes confidence in her work life, but never attempts to flaunt or boast, leaving the accolades for others to revel in. However, don’t ever mistaken her friendly disposition with weakness, as she will quickly remind you otherwise. Generally she has a good relationship (both business and casual) with many clientele all over the physical landscape as well as the virtual, and while she may not be able to assist with their every request, she has the knowledge, contacts, and assets to requisite whatever is needed.
On the other hand however, she does have trust issues at times, especially with those she feels are not quite up front with her, and in the business world, that could be a very long list.
Background: No one ever said that just because technology was evolving, life would be that much simpler. And even in the virtual world of The Universe, while a girl with physical handicaps could be anything she wanted, there was always that morbid thought of having to return to her real life. To the aches, pains and rollercoaster of emotions...
London had been a place of dreams for the little girl who was born and raised for many years of her childhood in the bright lights and big sprawling city that never seemed to sleep. A girl who took after her more liberal-minded mother, and sought the artistic world. She imagined herself as perhaps a beautiful dancer like the many she witnessed in the virtual world and in person at performances her parents treated her to. If not a dancer, than a professional artist, painting wonderful portraits and landscapes for all to enjoy. Or music, yes! Music was the very soul of the city and its people, so why wouldn't a girl of ten years want to contribute to such joy? To truly enjoy and be passionate enough to delve into the arts, bringing fresh ideas, inspiration, and a slower pace to a place that seemed to always be in a hurry was something of wonderment.
But, “dreams” were just that, and as a mental illness struck her mother, closing her love and affection off from the rest of the family, Blake felt alone and lost. It was then that her father -a high powered Corporate Executive-, stepped in to fill that void, knowing that his daughter needed guidance. He deemed that her mind needed to steer away from fantasy and fairy tales, and take root in what really mattered: innovation and growth. Or, better read as: “Work for a large and successful technological corporation and you'll make something of your life”.
And so it was, that year after year, while private school and extracurricular activities were becoming increasingly more challenging and time consuming, the life of the “artist” was left slowly subsiding until the idea became a kind of fiction to the young mind. And it was less about creative pursuits and more about business acumen.
By late adolescence and now living with her father in the upper echelons of the City Ring, Blake was already interning with Hiroshi, working alongside and shadowing not only her father but several other leaders within the organization, listening, learning, and studying. Embedding herself in the business world helped as well, allowing her to really experience first-hand the fruits of one's labors, and that once resistant nature began to conform and love the corporate arena. Her specialization eventually focused on Corporate Security, specifically, Cyber Security in and out of The Universe. She could really make a difference in a city that was still going through so many changes.
A turning point in her life changed not only her physiological makeup, but her whole outlook on the future, as a stroll along the city streets resulted in a hit and run accident that left the girl in a coma. She awoke in the hospital, cut, scrapped, bruised, and without any feeling from the waist down. Unfortunately, the damage was too serious for surgery to be of help, or any cure possible, that would allow her to walk again without mechanical assistance.
Eventually bound to a wheelchair, Blake sought refuge in The Universe more frequently, spending hours in a world that had no bounds, and would allow her to walk amongst the stars if need be. After perusing avatars from decades of retro video games, she landed on one character she could pretty much relate to on many levels: “Kasumi Goto” from the Mass Effect series. A strong female archetype that stood for independence, and a skilled infiltrator, thief, and hacker who let her abilities do the talking, since she herself said very little.
Still retaining her position as Cyber Security Specialist and a “Whitehat” hacker within the Corporation, she was essentially tasked with Penetration Testing in the real world as well as in The Universe, exposing any loopholes, and closing them as quickly as possible. Wheelchair or not, Blake felt more empowered and at home living her life within the virtual world, and behind the guise of her avatar. However, she also had to be careful not to delve so far into the virtual that her mind may not want to return to reality...
Relationship:
◇ Father: Glenn Helios - current Executive Vice President of Operations and long-standing chairman within the Corporation. ◇ Mother: Anamarie Helios - due to a mental breakdown from unknown reasons, she is currently staying at a psychiatric hospital in the City. ◇ Generally speaking, Blake has an extensive list of business contacts and associates in and out of The Universe than actual friends, which she is happy with.
Username: Kasumi
Home: An old grounded pirate ship from one of the “High Seas” RTS games still active in The Universe, well hidden and off the beaten path that she is left in relative solitude. The interior is retrofit with the latest technological add-ons and a few minor tweaks of her own, masking any form of “life” within.
Fame: (Relatively Known) Just like her alter ego in the Mass Effect games, Blake has spent a lot of time masking her footprints within The Universe, so her whereabouts are shrouded in secrecy. However, while many may have not physically seen her, she is known for being a stellar “hacker” (debuffer) in combat situations and able to slip in and out of hard-to-reach locales.
Feats: Currently holds record for stealth-run through boss lair on Planet X1-9, and no fatalities to boot ♥
Weapons ◇ M-3 Predator Pistol ◇ Rarity: Common
◇ Functionality: A lightweight firearm and a decent clip size, with a default of 15 rounds. It also has a very fast fire rate, is fairly accurate at all ranges, and has a fast reload time. The drawback is the damage output is low compared to heavier models.
◇ Omni-Blade ◇ Rarity: Common
◇ Functionality: The transparent omni-blade is suspended in an energy field safely away from the user's skin. Warning lights illuminate the field so the searing blade only burns the intended enemy.
Armour ◇ Stealth Armour ◇ Rarity: Rare
◇ Functionality: Can absorb minimum amount of sustained damage. When Stealth is activated, Kasumi becomes invisible for a short period of time, during which her speed is boosted considerably. The armour is insulated and grounded, protecting her from electrical currents to a certain degree. Attacking, using offensive abilities, or taking damage disables her camouflage.
Utility ◇ Decoy ◇ Rarity: Common ◇ Appearance: Carbon copy of Kasumi which mimics gestures and movement, however cannot take any action. ◇ Functionality: When this power is activated a hologram copy appears approximately 3-5 meters away. This hologram mimics the activator's appearance and movements but does not actually move, nor does it actually attack.
◇ Translocator ◇ Rarity: Rare ◇ Appearance: ◇ Functionality: Actives when tossed against hard, flat surface. The beacon lasts indefinitely until the ability to teleport to its location is activated or until it is destroyed (by Kasumi or enemy).
Steed ◇ Motorbike from Tron ◇ Rarity: Rare
◇ Functionality: Gets her from point A to point B...
Artifact ◇ EMP Gauntlet ◇ Appearance: Metallic gauntlet that fastened to her arm. ◇ Functionality: Gauntlet with EMP pulse that has fifty meter radius, disabling any opposing electronic devices and debuffing opposition from using executable abilities including shields for a short duration.
Physical Description (pending image): As with most Ithlo stature, Kai’mos is fairly average height for his species, standing at approximately six-foot-one, with a lean frame, narrow, yet rigid facial form, long silvery hair with a dash of blue tone, and grayish-blue tone to his skin, which can vary from one Ithlo to another. Generally speaking, his hair is tied up in a bun or “top knot” as to not get in the way of his work as a medic. His narrowed eyes, lavender in color, may give off a somewhat intense expression as though Kai was in some deep thought about any given subject.
For the most part, his clothing is kept rather nondescript and unremarkable, tending toward “earth tones” and simple patterns. His usual ensemble is made up of a long-sleeved, button shirt, slacks, leather boots that land about mid-calf, and a stitched leather long-coat which many pockets for a variety of things.
Height: 6'1 Weight: 185lbs Build: Tall & Lean Eyes: Lavender Hair: Silvery, with a faint tint of blue. Skin Tone: Grayish-blue Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: None Personal Style: Fairly reserved wardrobe, nothing spectacular as that isn't customary amongst the Ithlo culture. A pair of slacks, light button down shirt, a long coat, and soft leather boots complete his typical style, which are mostly colored in "earth tones".
How did you hear about the Veritas Lux Mea? “Thankfully, the advertisement wasn’t necessarily hard to come by, as loose lips are plentiful within the drinking establishments of most human colonized planets. Simply put, you were in need of a medical professional, and that is exactly what I offer you and your ship. Aside from that, I have nothing more of value to you other than the clothes on my back.”
How well do you deal with a high stress situation? “I’ve been through many situations dealing with the mildly sick to the fatally wounded, within areas of remote jungles where creatures still unidentified roamed and saw you as mere prey, and the endless sand dunes where nothing but an unforgiving sun lives. And in all of those examples, cooler heads always prevailed. And I have prevailed for the better because of it.”
What do you think about the government? “I suppose there are two types of governments: Those individuals who are for the welfare of the people, and those who are against and only seek power for themselves. If it it is the former, than of course it is a benefit. However, the latter should be cut from the rest of the galaxy as a cancer from neural tissue.”
What do you think about people not of your species? “I have, and will always respect those of other races and cultures, as I would also expect the same in return.”
How do you feel about less than legal operations? “Are we speaking about taking another life?...”
How would your acquaintances describe you? “I have been regarded as a pragmatist, and truly have a heart to help and heal to the best of my abilities.”
How would your mother describe you? “Most likely, she would describe me as being ‘exactly like my father’, which as far as I am concerned, is an honorable title.“
How would you describe yourself? “Loyal, Confident, and Content.
What do you know about us? “Honestly? Not much beyond the fact that you are a crew set out for great things, and intuition tells me I am at least mostly correct.”
Why do you want this job? “I suppose this would be a two-part answer. One, because you are the only ship willing to secure passage for me back to my homeworld, for services rendered, of course. And two, my curiosity has been piqued well enough that I may -if you would have me- want to stay on for a longer term than planned. But I suppose that remains to be seen…”
Why should I hire you? “Is there another within your crew capable of advanced medical procedures and carrying with themself inside their head a vast library of herbalism?”
Habits:
Tends to be on the OCD side at times and can be seen organizing his gear, as “Everything has its place.” Be wary to tell him otherwise.
Hobbies:
Cataloguing visual representations of various plant life used for medicinal purposes. (i.e. “Likes to sketch interesting flora”)
Fears:
Failing to see the unknown ailment and unable to treat it’s cause.
Likes:
Keeping up to speed on latest medical knowledge
Seeing confidence in others, especially those he works closely with
Meditative exercises
Combat training
Various types of tea
Dislikes:
Ignorance
Complaining
Excuses
Dishonor
Information:
General Skills:
Field Medic
Surgeon
Triage
Herbalist / Medicine
Unarmed defensive combat
Basic firearm knowledge
Specialty Skills:
Can patch up wounded in fairly short time.
Vast herbalistic knowledge cuts down time to create certain medicines
Disarm opponents and neutralize threat within melee range
Inventory:
Essential Clothing consisting of shirt, slacks, and boots.
Leather long coat with various pockets and hidden compartments
Medic’s bag full of essential tools
Medicine pouch and various herbal ingredients
Combat knife
Hand gun
History:
Reason for joining crew: Sheer desperation to get off of a planet that he was clearly not welcomed, as well as possibly becoming a full-time crew member if everything goes right.
History: Born on Alazden into a long line of physicians, apothecaries, and physical therapists migrated from Loza, Kai’mos already had his profession laid out for him, but not because of any particular cultural obligation, but more so due to the simple fact that Ithlo excelled within the medical field. Where other races failed, the Ithlo adapted and enhanced hundreds of medical procedures, surgical tools, and herbal remedies currently used throughout the galaxy. So, it only made sense that the Legacy of the Healers would be passed on and thrive within yet another offspring of the Ithlo species.
But, was Kai really open to the idea of his future already planned? Perhaps, but in the meantime, he continued to follow the path set before him, learning the trade of the medic, as well as the Ithloian tradition of unarmed combat, focusing primarily on defensive and non-lethal techniques. As a whole, Kai’mos learned to walk a balanced path of both healthy mind and body, allowing the spirit of his ancestors to guide his actions and words on a daily basis. While his attitude -like that of most of his species- can come off as somewhat arrogant and testy toward other non-Ithlo, the fact remains that logical thinking, pragmatic approaches, and results-driven solutions have granted him the right to be a little “rough around the edges”.
Fast-forward several years as the human populations began to increase, and Kai travelled from planet-to-planet sharing his knowledge with fellow colleagues and newly formed human colonies, as well as assisting in any way he could during times of sickness and system-wide epidemics. However, as things began to neutralize, and his presence would not be missed, Kai’mos slipped away on a long-planned pilgrimage, to refresh his mind and allow the ancestral spirits to recharge that which was taken away by years of hard work. As time went on, and those temples which honored his species were visited, Kai continued his journey to small a human-colony, unaware that it was a much seedier -and perhaps more desperate- place than imagined. And it was there, that his path would surely change.
As with most places, the alien races who looked far different than the natives were usually targeted first, whether it be something beneficial to boost tourism, or simply, to take what they had. In this particular case, Kai’mos fell victim to the latter, as his possessions were taken by raiders while he slept in a small hostel in the heart of the city. Lucky for the Ithlo, his life was spared, but it became apparent that he was not as welcomed has he had been to many of the other places on his journey. Penniless, lost, and thousands of miles from his home planet, Kai did what he could to secure passage on the next ship leaving the planet.
But at what cost to him?...
(Continued in the “Interview” section)
Character Quote: “The best medic is the one you run to and can't find.”
Usually Alex, but maybe “Bell” by some of his closer friends
Age
18
Gender
Male
Sexuality
Heterosexual
Relationship Status
Single
Label
Artist/Photographer (more recently for the Yearbook & other school activities)
Appearance Details
Tall, thin, and lean, at six-foot-one, Alex is a guy who’s noticed when walking in crowds, even if he doesn’t want to be. He dresses as though he were pulled from the 1990s, always with the black grunge aesthetic, and long dark shaggy unkempt hair which sometimes obscured half of his face. His skin is fairly pale and he has a single tattoo on his left arm, the Norse symbol “Vegvísir”, which he did to himself with a sewing needle and india ink on a whim (Something his father still hasn’t forgiven him for doing). Occasionally he has a cigarette or toothpick dangling from his lips, a terrible habit born out of anxiety, and something he keeps on the down low.
Personality Traits
Despite how he acts sometimes, Alex is highly intelligent, yet introverted for the most part, and the socially awkward side of him isn’t too far behind. But over time, and under the right conditions, he can be less rigid and a little more talkative to those he trusts. He tends to feel more at home surrounded by his many artistic endeavors, or behind a camera, capturing other people or places. He’s a neat freak, and has bouts of OCD, especially when it comes to his own stuff. “Everything has it’s place.” He’ll often comment under his breath.
What you will find however, is the more you get to know him, the more you realize that he is a nice guy with a kind heart. It’s simply peeling past all the layers of insecurity that need to be dealt with first.
Biography
Alex was usually one not to push, but rather let the cards fall where they may. Growing up as an only child in a middle class family, he had a fairly good upbringing. Both parents were pretty typical, both loved one another, but argued over the dumbest of shit almost on a daily. Overall, childhood was easy in suburban Pennsylvania.
Easy, until an accident took his mother’s life, and left a void so large in the twelve year old’s heart and soul, that he found himself reaching for a purpose. He was like any kid before, just out playing, being social, being active. But after the tragedy, he wanted nothing to do with anyone, or anything. As time passed, his father had remarried, and it was his step-mother who introduced the boy to art as a way to express himself in any way he chose. It was an outlet that allow him to pour all of the pent up anger, fear and sorrow into each drawing, painting, or photo. He’d found his purpose once again. To create. And art was his only friend.
During the summer between his Sophomore and Junior years, his family moved to Columbus, Ohio, where his father landed a new job. The move was tough, considering Alex had to leave all his friends, his school, and his hangouts, and “fitting in” was not something he was ready for. Friends were different, bad habits were formed, and trying to "fit in" was the toughest journey, and perhaps other times, it was just where he needed to be. But, a school year had gone by without too much incident, and after an interesting summer, it was now his Senior year...
Family
Father - Roger Bellamy Step Mother - Karen Bellamy
Misc.
Maxence Danet-Fauvel | 00aeef Favorite thing about Christmas?: When it’s over.
Friends - For the most part, close, and may hang out a few times during the week.
Alana (Ange) - What can I say? Lana is like the Yin to my Yang in every sense of the phrase. And I don’t know how many times we’ve finished each other’s sentences, which can be both cute as fuck, and annoying. She is about the only reason I ever look forward to being with anyone else.
Aramintah (Spooner) - She is a great artist, has a wonderful personality, and we’re no stranger to critiquing each other’s works. We follow each other’s Instagrams.
Tiffany (MCC/Tori) - If there was ever an opposite, it would be Tiff, hands down, but somehow we remained friends since meeting last year. Overbearing and annoying sometimes, yes! Her perkiness can be refreshing, but her dimness can be frustrating at times, and I can only handle her for so long. But, she’s good people.
Hope (Aeolian) - He’s a really great friend, and probably one of the best listeners I’ve ever known. Seems to see the potential in everyone and everything, and has helped me through some critical moments when it came to art projects, homework, and meeting deadlines.
Acquaintances - May have had classes together and know of each other, but don’t generally hang out
Ricky (Altered Tundra) - He doesn’t say much, which is nice, but once you peel back the rough exterior, Ricky isn’t so bad. I had the pleasure of photographing him for the yearbook last year, and a few shots for a football editorial in the school paper. He’s a nice guy.
Sage (SamaraJayne96) - A brilliant artist and musician. We’ve spoken a few times, and I have mad respect for her outlook on life, which reflects in her paintings and songs.
Elijah (Haley) - Good guy. More or less in his own world, but who isn’t? Elijah’s friendly and optimistic demeanor makes him a bearable person to be around for sure.
Jenna (Ange) - She’s nice, but her promiscuous personality makes me uncomfortable for the most part. I only talk to her if I need to.
Jordan (Hedgehawk) - He’s definitely one of the more flamboyant and opinionated of the drama kids, but a good dude altogether. Met him last year while getting stock footage from a few shows the school was putting on in the auditorium.
Appearance: A being slightly below average for her race of pseudo-giants, Vah’lux stands at seven-foot-five, with lean, defined muscles, light grayish-blue skin tone mottled with darker -virtually random- streaked markings, and emerald eyes that seemingly glow in low light under a furrowed brow. Dark, walnut hair is about as disheveled as one would imagine from her kind, cut uneven in some areas, and the longest part braided in a thick ponytail and secured with beaded string and fabric remnants. While the woman may be in her late twenties, years of harsh weather, blows to the face, scars that never healed properly, and other factors have made her seem older and quite "rough" in appearance, stripping away the beauty she once held as a youngling within her race.
Her armor consists of thick, reinforced furs and pelts, intricately woven and layered in order to keep both the elements at bay, and bodily damage to a minimum.
Personality Description: Ambitious, even-tempered, mentally tough, and competitive, Vah’lux gleans with a genuine confidence that very few seem to have in this current age. Whereas her demeanor may come off as coarse, it couldn't be further from the truth. Her rough exterior is balanced by a warm, humble approach, and generally friendly disposition, as even when things may seem dark, she manages to lift the mood of the people she encounters.
Biography:
An oral history of Vah'lux Ki-ao’uthal of the Kathaal tribe.
**** BLOOD, SAND, AND STONE ****
The resounding cheers, moans, growls, and jeers erupted as yet another of the Goliath’s opponents had fallen at the point of the crudely carved obsidian head spear she held firmly in her grasp. A large bare foot, grayish-blue in it’s skin tone, pushed the impaled corpse from the blade, allowing it to fall back onto the sand and gravel pit floor with a thud. Blood poured from the gaping abdominal wound which belong to a mere human slave. Several of them, in fact, all shapes and sizes, littered the makeshift arena that was the centralized entertainment spot within the Orc stronghold. A mixture of blood and sand stained not only the ground she walked on, but her skin, nails, hair, and most of all...soul. Vah’lux stood tall and strong as she surveyed the gathered crowd around the stadium, a packed house for the most part, and simply stared at the lot of them through eyes who cared not for their entertainment.
You see, there was no honor in what she did to survive as an Orc captive in the foreign land of Thraduum. A slave. A warrior. An object of desire for some. A gladiator nonetheless. And while she has done what was necessary for the last five years -no freedom in sight and hope merely hanging by a thread most days- the young Goliath female who hailed from the great Northern tribes found no satisfaction in a blood sport in which the primary objective was to entertain the rabble and line the coffers of Orc leaders. It was simply a means to an end. Perhaps then she could be liberated for good...
**** ONE WITH THE MOUNTAIN ****
Twenty-seven years prior, Vah’lux Ki-ao’uthal was born in the northernmost reaches of the Greatpeak Range, home to a handful of nomadic tribes -including the Kathaals- all of which learned to survive the harsh, frigid climates, and extreme altitudes. As resources became scarce, as was the case from time-to-time, certain groups broke away to migrate South in order to find new land to live and work on, eventually settling in what was known as the “Foot of the World”.
The youngling’s upbringing was not much different than most children born within a Goliath tribe, learning the ways of her people through oral histories passed down countless generations. Hunting and gathering was a staple activity for most at a later age, and both male and female learned everything that was needed to maximize their strengths and contribute to their own growth and, more importantly, the needs of the community. Honor and family were held in the highest regard, and very few Goliath would ever jeopardize that by putting themselves before their tribe. Survival was paramount.
Late adolescence found the young female hunting quite a distance from the village and alone for the first time since taking up the longbow and spear years before. Perhaps it was a curious mind that evening or the need to increase the challenge and compete against herself, but she kept moving further into unknown territory even as the sunlight hours began to fade. Moments later, she heard a call for help in the common tongue, and cautiously headed toward that direction only to find a human male sitting on a rock tending a wound on his leg, cold, hungry, and tired. Further inspection revealed lash marks along his back. A slave?
While suspicions were on high, she gave assistance nonetheless, bringing the young man back to her village, where they fed and cared for him. Over the course of the stranger’s two days of being looked after by Kathaal healers, Vah’lux stayed near, assisting when she could and inquiring about many things in distant lands. It also became the first time she had grown to adore another of a smaller, foreign race, perhaps drawing dangerously close to him as well beyond what she had expected.
"Kuli ananaka kulae aulaka", she would say when excitement crept up, meaning “My heart is in my head.”
But the joy would not last, as days after the stranger left the village, a swift and indiscriminate Orc attack converged onto the encampments. Goliath scouts and Dawncallers were all but slain, leaving very few aware of the impending dangers, which took the lives of countless warriors, elders, and younglings. Those who weren’t killed, were taken captive and thrown into heavy shackles, including Vah’lux.
Adding salt to the festering wound of losing her parents and many of her people, she spotted the human who only a few moons earlier she had helped nurse back to health. He stood on the sidelines next to another Orc, his face bloodied and expression full of shame, as the vile grin and smugness of the creature standing next to him mocked the Goliath. But while the rage built up within her, it was not directed toward the feeble human boy, if anything, she pitied him. Rather her ire was toward the Orc invaders who treated everything and everyone in their path as worthless, stepping on corpses and pillaging, as the survivors were lead away from their home.
Guilt such as this could never be erased. Vah'lux foolishly allowed an outsider in, and while she could not bring herself to harbor ill-will toward the young human pawn, Vah’lux had to carry the thought that she was responsible for the slaughter and enslavement of her people. A mistake she silently vowed to never make again.
Over five years had passed, and none too quickly either. The Goliath sat isolated in her cell after yet another exposition, stripped of crude armor, and left to her own thoughts and scraps of food. Her only company most of the time, a dire wolf, black as midnight, amber eyes, and at least twice as large as a normal wolf. Vah'lux always had a heart for the creatures Kavaki blessed the lands with and would not hesitate to share her meager portions, or perhaps all of it, if it meant the beast would be satisfied above her own needs. However, it took a good part of a year -and in secret, no less- to get to that point in their relationship, as the Dire Wolf was abused at the hands of the Orcs so often, it had very little trust in anyone. But, with time came healing, and the creature felt much more at ease with her new friend, learning to acknowledge and obey words and commands in Gol-kaa that would solidify their bond even further.
*** UPRISING ****
Freedom. For years it had become a fading thought, and the hope that went with it dwindled over time. She was only one of a handful of her tribe held by the Orcs, and even they were dying away. But a dream of her lost people the night before urged the Goliath on, resolved to escape from under the filthy heel of her Orc oppressors and seek out her tribe once again. Whispers to other slaves she trusted carried throughout the stronghold. Many were in agreement, and then the evening fell, so the revolt started. Chaos ensued, fires broke out, and the screams of Orcs and slaves alike echoed throughout the night sky. Vah'lux ushered many of the others to safety, keeping watch to ensure they cleared the gates. Orc archers picked off who they could; stragglers were the first to go. As the last group of captives fled to the outside of the walls, the Goliath followed.
Vah'lux was flanked and knocked over by a hulking Orc in spiked armor, one who was nearly her size and mass, in fact. The same Orc who tormented her for the years during her time spent in captivity. And, the very one who stood by the human boy as her people were pulled from their home. Just as the Orc’s crude spear was raised above his head to make the final killing blow against the prone woman, the dire wolf lunged at the vile creature, teeth clenched onto the monster's wrist, causing him to relinquish the weapon. It was just enough time for Vah'lux to stand, grab the dropped spear, and plunge it into the Orc's abdomen, bypassing the meager protection of the leather armor, which brought the creature to its knees in pain. His presence lit up a rage that boiled inside the Goliath woman, as she turned the spear head around, tearing and crunching cartilage and tissue.
"You always be animal!" The Orc exclaimed in broken common while spitting blood toward the Goliath. "You will die animal!"
Vah'lux stared at her captive. The angered harbored toward him was great, but the words she wished to say to him were just not worth the time spent.
"Then perhaps that is all I will be!" She growled in response. "S'trey'kor!" Uttering the command to kill in Gol'kaa, as the wolf did not hesitate to tear the flesh from the Orc's neck with massive jaws and razor sharp teeth.
Vah'lux turned and ran. Never to look back. Never to return.
*** OUT OF THE FRYING PAN ****
Days turned into weeks in the foreign wilderness, and many of the others who escaped either went their own ways, perhaps back to their homelands, or died off through disease, malnutrition, or wounds that never healed properly. In eventually came down to the Goliath and the Wolf. Through hunting and resourcefulness, Vah’lux managed to acquire components to create a few pieces of hide armor to help with protection as well as staving off the elements along her journey, and weapons were crude, but usable. She had very little idea of where her travels would take her, as the lands grew darker and more harsh, challenging not only her skills as a hunter and gatherer, but her wits.
On a particular day while hunting and foraging, she was suddenly surrounded and arrested by armed sentinels, and from what she could tell from their claims, for “Unauthorized hunting on royal protected lands and harboring a dire wolf…”, who they believed was full of only evil intent. Vah’lux would not go easily as she would never be caged like an animal again, but as the soldiers descended on the Wolf, tossing chains and snares to hold it down, she ceased any resistance, bargaining with the soldiers to release the beast in exchange for her cooperation.
As it so happened, they complied, and Vah’lux bid her friend goodbye in Gol-kaa, urging him to run as fast as his legs would take him, far from her, far from the chaos. To find a new home. To be free. And with much reluctance, the wolf obeyed, and took off with a supernatural speed into the mist and darkness, with only it’s howls heard echoing throughout the forest before fading into the night.
“Ak’loc kano ekta” She whispered in the native tongue, as she was led toward her fate.
Lord Wyron
Dion
Heat
Lady Arya
