Mega Birb — Roleplayer Guild

Name:
Sicaria Velinian

Race:
Turian

Class:
Sentinel

Age:
28

Sex:
Female

Appearance:

Standing at an even 6’00” and weighing in at 131lbs, Sicaria is about your average female Turian.  Her facial tattoos are a striking combination of purple and violet that represent the Aephus colonies.  They are present on her chin, cheeks, nose, forehead, and temples.  She has a set of five scars that run up her right mandible and several others across her body, including a small chunk taken out of the left side of her collar.  She has a black tattoo of a scythe on her left shoulder with the start and end dates of the Reaper Invasion below it.

Backstory:
Born to a pair of distinguished warriors that had previously retired to the planet of Aephus, many would’ve said that young Sicaria was destined for greatness.  Her mother was a renowned sniper with more confirmed kills than she could remember and her father was possibly the best shock trooper in his company, so she had some big shoes to fill.  She wanted to, too, but life had other plans for her.

Sometime around the age of ten, both parents were killed in an industrial accident in the shipyard, though it was a suspicious case.  They were the only ones injured or killed, and a stable stack of shipping containers had been dropped on them from above.  Even this young, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together, and the authorities did as well.  The only issue was that the perpetrators were off world before anyone even found the bodies.  When word got back to Sicaria, she was less disturbed by the death of her parents and more so by who her closest relative.  This relative was her uncle Decimus, a middle-aged burnout that lived on the Citadel drinking his days away.  Unfortunately for her, she could do nothing to stop this move.

In the days following the funeral, which were quite emotional for all involved, Sicaria was moved to her uncle’s apartment on the Zakera Ward, and things quickly turned for the worse.  His housing smelled of a distinct combination of sex, booze, and marijuana, and this was more than enough to put the girl off.  In the months following, she slowly grew used to the situation she had been thrust into.  It wasn’t ideal, but her fifteenth birthday would be her salvation.

Come that age, she was sent off to Palaven to join the military like all other Turians, and basic training was almost like breathing to her.  Every drill was completed quickly and without complaint, like she was a machine made to do them.  Her superiors noticed of course, and she was recommended to go into command training.  For some reason, she denied the offer, which baffled those that made it.  While it wasn’t unheard of, most Turians strove to reach the highest rank they could.  For Sicaria, it was a simple question.  Would you rather give the order to shoot, or the one pulling the trigger?

She decided she would be better of pulling the trigger.  From there, things went well until she turned sixteen, and on the cusp of graduation, started to show some biotic capability.  She was sent off to a Cabal Unit pretty quickly and received an amount of training with them, getting a set of biotic implants along the way.  Her abilities, while limited, did their job.  Someone also gave her the idea of combining these with tech powers, and a Sentinel was born.

For the next few years, this unit moved around where they were needed, usually on simple peacekeeping missions and some diplomat escorts.  Overall, she had a fairly boring time in the military with only a few notable skirmishes, but nothing worth retelling.

When news came out about Saren’s betrayal, Sicaria was devastated.  That spectre had been her idol since her childhood, and to see him allied with the Geth drove her to flee to Omega to sort things out.  She wasn’t the only one, another member of her unit named Vetia went with her for similar reasons, and possibly one of romance.  On this derelict station her life finally gained some level of interest, and she intended to enjoy the time she had there.

Turians were a rare sight on Omega, as most know.  A criminal haven was a place that fit the profile of Batarians or Vorcha easier than an entire militarized race, but here were two of those looking to rent an apartment and find out which gang offered the best protection.  Lone behold, it ended up being the only one with Turian representation, the Blue Suns.  For the duration of the investigation into Saren, she stayed on the station, not having a reason to go elsewhere.

Little changed for her until the revival of Shepard two years after his death, aside from one key factor.  She had gotten involved with the Suns somewhere in that gap and offered herself as an enforcer.  These guys, knowing how valuable a bullet sponge that keeps getting back up is, readily accepted the offer and took off the protection fee on the apartment.  The biggest downside was when Shepard came for a sort of knight paragon trying to clean up the station.

They were finally able to move in, something had taken that sniper’s eyes off the bridge in.  It was probably the Blood Pack breaking into the basement after all that time spent doing nothing down there.  She was at the head of the next rush in, and everyone got across unscathed.  But right when the front door came down, a certain famous human was waiting with a shotgun ready.  Sicaria took the brunt of the first shot, rather her armor did, and she made the decision to stay down and escape the day with her life rather than get up and get killed for sure.  Miraculously, it worked.  And at that moment, she decided the gang life wasn’t worth it.

Around a week later, Sicaria and her girlfriend fled the rock in favor of the Citadel, ironically finding another apartment close to where Decimus still lived.  In a way, things ended up coming up full circle, at least until a trip to Earth some six months later.

The pair had taken a vacation to the Caribbean, still a popular tourist trap, when the Reapers came.  Sicaria had been lucky, she got off world in the first wave, as did Vetia.  Though she saw enough destruction and took up arms, just waiting for the chance to move in give the Reapers what for.  This galaxy was their home, and she would be damned before she gave it up willingly.

Sometime later, with the destruction of the Reapers, Sicaria and Vetia returned to their apartment on the Citadel and resumed life, each one working to dig up information on how well their old unit fared during the war.  It was a miracle they had both survived the invasion, but here they were.

Psyche Profile:
Sicaria is a soldier at peace with herself by now, ready to slow down and relax for a little while before taking up arms again to fight for another cause.  Ceaseless and headstrong are good words to describe her, since it would take an army to stop her once her mind is set on something worth fighting for.  Her favorite moment in life is the calm before the storm, she says that it brings out the best and worst in people.

Overall, she’s open minded and really doesn’t care what someone does as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else.  The reconstruction of other planets isn’t very high on her priority list at the moment, though that’s mostly because of her living situation on the Citadel.  Speaking of which, she doesn’t think its location matters much, as long as it stays her home for now.  She wants to return to Aephus and potentially start a family one day, and ultimately hunt down the killers of her parents should they still be alive eighteen years and a genocide later.

There isn’t much that Sicaria doesn’t like, but general assholery is up there.

Specialty:
Sicaria is a believer in the idea of high-risk high-reward, and as a result, she’s a qualified Red Herring of sorts.  In short, her job description is to keep pressure off the main unit and create openings for them and anyone with a long range weapon.  She also has a knack for keeping constant pressure on groups of enemies.

Powers/Skills:
-Throw
- Warp
- Lift Grenade
- Tech Armor
- Overload
- Cryo Blast
- Offensive Mastery
- Fitness

Equipment and Resources:
- Turian Cabal Armor
- Phaeston
- M-11 Wraith
- Matched pair of Omni-Blades

Sample Post:
”Ugh… how drunk was I last night?”

”Enough for me to carry you home and you to carry me to the bed.”

”Huh, must’ve been fun.”  The figure of Sicaria Velinian slowly sat up in her bed, searching for some article of clothing that had been undoubtedly lost somewhere in the sheets last night’s lusty activities.  It took her a moment, but she found a pair of flannel pants and slipped them on,  then stood up.  The blood rushed from her head and her vision faded, prompting her to sit back down for a moment.  In this moment, the other Turian in the bed by the name of Vetia was crawling over and lightly running her claws down her lover’s back.  ”…You’re never this affectionate in the morning unless you want breakfast.”

”You know me well, dear.”  With a smirk, she laid back with her hands behind her head, giving Sicaria a light nudge with her knee.

One exaggerated eye roll later, the younger of the two was up and moving out of the bedroom of the apartment.  It was a small area, really just a bedroom, bathroom, and combined living room and kitchen, but it was enough for the pair.  And in the kitchen was where the girl went to work, digging through the refrigerator to find something edible.  Her savior came in the eggs of Palaven’s equivalent to the chicken, which quickly got taken out and set on the counter.

The fridge was slammed shut and the Turian set to work, cracking eggs over a pan while the delicious scent of breakfast filled the room.  In the meantime, four slices of bread were dropped into a toaster and a jar of something similar to peanut butter was retrieved from a cupboard above the counter all while a naked Turian tried her hand at stealth.

”Vetia, there’s a reason you have vanguard implants.  You’re not exactly quiet… and put some clothes on.”  Without a word, the girl in question turned around and came back with a pair of pants similar to Sicaria’s and sat at the counter.  Not a moment later, the toaster returned that which it was made to create with a loud ding.  ”Now is it just me, or does this all seem so… surreal?  Like, a month ago we were all fighting for survival and now we’re eating actual food, not nutrient paste.”

”I know what you mean, it’s weird… but a good weird, y’know?”  In the coming silence, Vetia would get up from her seat and collect a few eggs from the pan for herself, contemplating how life had come to it’s current point.

Sicaria did the same, mulling over just what to say in the coming moments.  With some dry toast on her plate now, and taking the rest of the eggs in the pan, she sat down at her own seat.  ”Yeah… it feels good to not be shot at for once, though.”  The girl smiled up at her lover as she came over to sit beside her, giving her a light peck on the mandible.

”It’s your turn to buy the tea, you know.”

”I know…”  This fact was acknowledged with an audible sigh.

Notes
- Bisexual, prefers females.
- Has a girlfriend named Vetia, they’ve been together for a little under three years.
- Has no immediate family. 
- Scythe tattoo was done roughly a week following the defeat of the Reapers.
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