Name: Keesin'Godda (Almost Always goes by Key)
Race: Quarian
Gender: Female
Class: Infiltrator
Age: 28
Homeship: The
GazanAppearance: Standing at 5ft 7in (1.7 meters) and decked out in as much customization as she can add to her suit, Key tends to attract even more attention than the average Quarian does. She embraces this, always making sure her suit is as clean as it can possibly be with her spikes shining and her leather belts oiled to perfection. In general Key takes great pride in her appearance, always on the look out for things she can further customize her suit with. She moves and acts like she has something to prove, almost always seeming to somehow have her shoulders squared and her chest puffed out, ready to defend herself against some disparaging remark or outright physical violence. Life is not kind in the Terminus systems, least of all to Quarians by themselves.
If you look closely you can see where her enviro-suit has been repaired on her left shoulder. It mirrors scars beneath, and is the result of being nearly killed by Varren. Because of that Key is always ready to move in an instant. She never comes across as fully relaxed, even when she's somewhere safe, always appearing tense and in a hurry to be somewhere else, usually playing with something (typically a hand puzzle) to occupy herself.
Psychological Profile: Key was never suited for Migrant Fleet life. It was too stifling, too crowded, too focused on survival rather than living. She yearned for freedom, for doing things for pleasure rather than because the scrap heap they called a ship required it. Stories and dances offered brief escapes, but they became so frequent an escape that they eventually only served to even further remind her of her problems. Now that she's finally free of the constraints of the migrant fleet, Key is able to live the life she always dreamed of.
As a result, Key is impulsive, materialistic, and somewhat selfish, person, living by her passions. She does things for the thrill of it, and keeps things for little more than she thought they were pretty. Her emotions tend to be fiery and high, and she exhibits little control over them at any given moment. Her motivations are rarely beyond 'I want to own or do that thing' or 'I think it'll be fun.' She's a bit of an adrenaline junky, doing things for the thrill of them. With time, or guidance, she may temper her high emotions and excitability with wisdom, but for now she remains as she is: passionate and excitable.
Key is a fidgety person (always seeming to be 'Keyed up' hence her nickname), always eager to be moving and exploring new areas. After being trapped on her homeship the
Gazan for 16 years, she's developed a strong sense of wanderlust and curiosity, never liking staying in one place for too long. She spent far too much time doing that during her time on the Flotilla. She's always eager to meet new people, and experience new things (As much as she can. Obviously a lot of things are off limits given how they'll kill her). That being said, her time on Omega has tempered her slightly. New experiences aren't always safe. New people, while interesting and exciting to talk to, aren't always good people. She's always prepared for that new person to be yet another regurgitator of the same old disparaging remarks (or try to rob, harm, or manipulate her in some way).
She's heard all the insults. 'Suit-Rat'. 'Beggar'. 'Thief'. She's determined to prove these people wrong, be it through interacting with them (likely through arguing once they rile her all to easily rileable anger) or doing jobs for or with them. She constantly feels like she has to prove herself to these people and others around them, to unravel the Quarian reputation as best she can.
Her time on Omega has hardened her. She often won't go to help anyone unless it benefits her in some way, for one too many times she's had her kindness and trust manipulated. She trusts only a select few, and her empathy for others extends a limited amount to whatever team she happens to be working with, and fully only to select friends. She's never very relaxed, a side effect of her near death experience with a pack of Varren. She's always ready to move in an instant, afraid of being caught off guard again.
And beneath all of that, Key is a sappy romantic at heart. She believes in things like love at first sight, that love can conquer all, and that everyone has a soulmate. She's more or less certain that for herself such a romance is impossible (given that she's a Quarian who has abandoned the Fleet) but knows that for everyone else, destiny will bring them together with their soulmates and true loves.
All in all, Key is just living her life to the fullest, embracing thrills she thought she'd never get a chance at.
Equipment:M8 AvengerExtended Barrel, Piercing Mod. It has a winking skull painted on the side of it.
M6 CarnifexHigh Caliber Barrel, Incendiary Rounds.
XO Suit: This custom exosuit is an improvement on her envirosuit by Key herself to make it tougher to penetrate her armor and potentially kill her from infection, and to make her fighting in CQC and movement in combat unexpectedly powerful and quick. Inspired by mechs and rumors of the human's so called 'N7 Destroyers', Key has been carefully and steadily improving her envirosuit for years. The armor of her base suit has added and improved layers on it, whatever she could scavenge and repair, making it tougher and more resilient than your average Quarian armor.
She's installed jet thrusters on the back and limbs to give her brief bursts of speed, or increase her jumps. They are rickety at best, so true flight and extended levitation are both impossible. Along it she has jury-rigged strength enhancing systems (typically found in exoskeletons used for hard labor) to briefly increase her strength as needed, mostly to keep unruly patients down, (though only to roughly a fit turian's level. Still more than her own, but not by a massive amount). She can only keep her strength increased for a few minutes straight, or she risks frying the systems, and prefers to use it in short bursts of a few seconds.
Fix-em: A VI in Key's helm that can scan the body of whoever she's looking at and tell her about the physical injuries they've received, allowing her to quickly plan and prioritize her surgery. Useful for finding out if someone has internal bleeding, shrapnel deep in their bodies, ruptured organs, or any other thing that she won't be able to see herself without proper equipment that she doesn't have access to and may not have time to get people too.
Her twin omni-tools have been changed to have an array of medical tools available whenever she needs them, in addition to their normal functions.
Abilities: -Fortification
-Tech Armor
-Flak Cannon
-Sticky Grenade
-Submission Net
Bio: Born in 2156 Key has always been trouble for her ship. Her mother died in childbirth, and her father died soon after after a deal with some spacers for supplies went south and they turned on the quarians. The spacers were killed but several quarians, her father included, died before they were neutralized. Taken in by a family that didn't have a child of their own, Keeto'Godda vas Gazan and Shia'Godda vas Gazan, Key never really felt like she belonged in the Migrant Fleet. Her foster parents were nice, but not her own flesh and blood, and they were all too happy to stay on the Migrant Fleet for all their lives. She was always yearning to be somewhere else, to have her own space, to do something other than
survive. She wanted to have things because they brought her pleasure, not just because they were effective and useful.
She wanted to explore the galaxy without being chased out of every sector by some corporation or government that viewed them as parasites. She wanted to have her own space and do things for fun rather than try and keep herself surviving so the future of her race can survive. She would be constantly reprimanded for misuse of materials and time, pursuing trivial things when she should have been preparing for her Pilgrimage or helping keep the ship running. The only time her interests and the desires of the Fleet met was when she was learning the ship was flown and working on its flight systems. Something about the possibility of freedom and flying through space with nothing more than a desire to explore and a ship was enthralling to her.
By the time her Pilgrimage had come (at age 17, early by her own constant insistence), Key had already made up her mind. She wasn't going to go back to the Migrant Fleet. There was nothing there for her, and she would only continue argue and get in trouble with the captain and eventually the Admiralty itself. It was best for her to make her own way and never look back. Making her way to Omega, Key set herself to getting a small shuttle to explore the galaxy at her own leisure and as quickly as possible. The first year was extremely rough. She was robbed over a dozen times, swindled out of hard earned credits, and came under attack more times than she could count. She became very proficient at holding her own in a fight and defending herself, and steadily less trusting and naive. It seemed like everyone on Omega was out to cheat her, rob her, hurt her, or steal from her. Eventually she landed a job with what seemed like the only honest person on Omega. A turian by the name of Zertus, owner of a private ship repair yard. In return for two years of her service, Zertus would give her a derelict shuttle that she could repair in her free time.
Everything she could learn about the turian seemed to be trustworthy. He never double crossed customers or slacked on work. He always held up his end of bargains, even when it was to his loss. Warily, Key agreed to the job.
Also working for Zertus was a human named Tyler. Tyler was dressed more strangely than any human she had ever seen. Decked out in leather and spikes, with a bright green mohawk. He had a magnetism that Key couldn't seem to shake, a way about him that made her want to listen to him. Inevitably drawn in through curiosity of his attire and charismatic personality Key found herself spending more and more time with him. He was one of the few people who didn't seem to judge her for being a quarian, and actually cared for what her thoughts and personality was. Tyler had came to Omega in an attempt to start his career as a galactic music star, before the cruel realities of Omega set in and crushed his dreams under its foot. He was now working for Zertus just to live, playing his music on the side sometimes.
Through this day in day out interaction, Key was introduced to the human culture of 'Punk' and fell in love with it. Perhaps it was because of the emphasis on personal freedom, the way she could easily accessorize and stylize her suit with it, the loud aggressive music, or all three, but she embraced the culture of it wholeheartedly. With the way Tyler treated her and made her feel special, it wasn't long before she became infatuated with him. True romance was impossible, of course, but she could dream. She would spend as much time as possible with him, learning music from him as best she could. He was the one who gave her the nickname 'Key' in reference to how excitable and fidgety she was. She embraced the nickname with great joy.
On the side she would participate in vehicle races around Omega, racing through the streets in vehicles of questionable safety for prizes of credits. Tyler was never there to see her race, always busy with another gig or job for Zertus, but he would always be there to celebrate with her when she won, helping her decide where to spend a portion of her winnings on the celebratory party.
A year passed like this, and it was the first good times since she left the Migrant Fleet two years ago. Her relationship with Tyler was the highlight of her time (even if it wasn't as romantic as she'd like), and Zertus was an honest turian who kept up his side of the bargain and ensured that she was taken care of while working for him. Her ship was ready to fly, all she needed to do was finish her contract with Zertus and then she could start exploring the galaxy at her leisure. To her surprise however, Zertus fired Tyler after this year. She never figured out why, but given the angry look on Zertus' face, and the way he warned her to stay away from Tyler for the rest of her life, it must have been something that the turian thought was very bad. But it was Tyler, her one true friend in Omega. She made plans to meet up with him later, to help plan to mend whatever had happened between him and Zertus.
So imagine her shock that when she met up with Tyler that night, he told her he had been fired because he had found out that Zertus was planning on selling her ship, and had spoken out against it. Fearing he tell her, Tyler claimed, Zertus fired him and forbid him from coming anywhere near the shop again. At first she refused to believe it, everything Zertus had ever shown her and done to her was of an honest turian that wouldn't betray her like that. But it was Tyler, the one who had always treated her like an equal and paid attention to her ideas and plans, and when he produced a bill of sale, the kind she had seen hundreds of time of the last year and a half, with
her ship on it and some stranger's name as the one owning it, she had to finally accept the truth. She was hurt, and angry. So angry that when Tyler told her they should steal the ship before Zertus could sell it, with any supplies they could steal from the old turian, she agreed without a second thought.
The theft didn't go quite as planned, them tripping an alarm almost as soon as they tried to break and being forced to grab whatever they thought looked useful, but they managed to get the ship up and gone before Zertus and whatever force he could bring to bear to stop them. Excited that they were going to finally explore the galaxy and elated they had gotten away with it, Key and Tyler blasted punk rock music as they flew away from Omega. Tyler dubbed the small ship the
Freedom, as that was what it had given them.
Another year would pass, with the two of them doing odd jobs around the Terminus systems. Life wasn't always comfortable for the two of them, given how they were in no way prepared for the costs a ship would have and were always on the brink of financial collapse, but they had fun. Key was becoming more and more infatuated with Tyler, and this culminated in her declaring that her name was now Keesin'Godda vas
Freedom and Tyler was her crew, the most important person in the galaxy to her. She thought she saw a brief look of shock, quickly masked by gracious acceptance, but dismissed it as a trick of the eyes.
Soon after that, and a particularly long dry period without jobs, with their credits running low and their fuel running even lower, Tyler came up with another daring plan. They would go to Omega and rob one of the big three gangs there, stealing some equipment to sell and better ship to explore with. Key agreed, and they set their course for Omega once more.
On the way there Tyler decided that they would hit the Blood Pack. As the most disorganized of the three gangs, he reasoned it would be relatively simple to sneak in past their stupid Vorcha and dull Krogan to snatch a ship and equipment from right under their noses.
The plan was simple, Key would cause a distraction and Tyler would use the distraction to snag a ship and what equipment he could, then come pick her up at a docking pay so they could once again get the hell out of Omega.
It went to shit almost immediately.
Key wasn't equipped to deal with a three Vorcha, a Krogan, and a pack of four Varren. While her grenade was enough to kill the Vorcha and one of the Varren, it had little to no effect on the Krogan. Upon seeing something of that size charge her with murderous intent in his eyes, Key panicked. She fired off a submission net, immobilizing the monster, and ran for it. She managed to keep her head long enough to inform Tyler that she couldn't keep the distraction going as long as needed, and he reassured her that it was fine, that he was already in. All she had to do now was get to a safe spot and wait for his call.
Ducking into an alleyway, Key paused to catch her breath and gain her bearings, so she could accurately respond to Tyler's call. While she was attempting to figure out where in Omega she was, the three Varren caught up to her. All Key had in warning was a snarl before an impossibly heavy body slammed into her chest, and powerful jaws crushed into her suit's shoulder. She screamed, instinctively firing her Carnifex into the creature's body. As it slumped off of her, she activated her tech armor in a panic, the yellow shields coming up just in time to stop another pair of jaws from crushing her skull. She fired wildly in a panic again, killing the beast snarling and chewing on her rapidly diminishing shields.
Pulling herself to her feet, breathing ragged and raw, she aimed her pistol at the last one as it prepared to charge her.
Click Key didn't have the time to feel despair as the Varren crashed into her, knocking her to the ground, jaws only barely being held back by her tech shield. She could practically hear her tech shields cracking, and flicked open her omni-blade and stabbed recklessly in desperation. She's fairly certain she nicked herself more than once, but that doesn't matter. She killed the Varren right as her shields broke, the feeling of it's jaws stopping their pressure around her throat just before they punctured her suit haunting her nightmares to this day.
Pulling herself up, her shoulder a mess of blood and agony, she made a call to Tyler for help, telling him what happened. No reply. Telling herself to relax, to calm down, she tried again. And again. And again. After an indeterminable amount of time, she realized he wasn't going to reply. Either he was dead or...no. Tyler wouldn't just abandon her. He was dead. The Blood Pack had killed him. That was the truth. It had to be.
Key knew she needed to move, and began stumbling through the streets of of Omega. She doesn't remember much of that time. Flashes of pain and blood, terror that whatever bacteria or diseases resided in a Varren's mouth was going to kill her, and a single, fervent, desire to survive. Somehow she managed to make her way into a clinic, for the next thing she knew she was awake in a white, sterile, room. Her shoulder hurt but wasn't in agony any more. The doctor, a turian, reassured her that she was okay. She had been out for more than a week, as her body struggled to fight off the infections the Varren bite had given her, aided by the strongest immuno boosters and anti-biotics they had. Key gave them the last credits she had, and promised to stick around and help them with anything they needed to pay off the rest.
A deal was struck and Key gave a small sigh of relief. She was alive, at least, even if she was back right where she started. Much to her surprise, Key found herself enjoying her time at the clinic. Helping people for a change, rather than waiting for them to turn on her, was nice. She enjoyed helping people for the sake of helping people, much to her surprise. Maybe it was proving to them that she was more than just a thieving suit-rat. That she had saved their lives. Maybe she enjoyed finally having a dedicated purpose beyond 'live life' after wandering and nearly dying. Regardless, she applied herself with a will to the clinic. Seeing how eager she was to learn and help, the doctor began teaching her the basics of surgery and stitching back up injured aliens. She took to it very well, squashing any squeamishness she may have had in the first week. Alien bodies fascinated her (in a clinical way), and the thought that she was helping and saving people filled her with a small glow of personal pride and pleasure.
She stayed long past having paid off her debt, learning how to better help and be apart of the clinic. It was a sort of 'medical aid for hire' selling their services to the various gangs, merc companies, and people around Omega. They'd go wherever they were called, for whoever called, and either patch them up right then and there or take them back to the clinic to do deep surgery. They avoided being shot at by the merc companies and gangs for helping their enemies by making it clear that if they were shot at, the faction that shot at them would no longer receive their services. A solid enough threat that kept most of the factions in line.
In those 8 years Key became skilled driving (by necessity needing to hurry through Omega for their clients) and patching together various aliens and mercenaries after they'd been shot, blown up, stabbed, ran over, and everything in between. She's spent a lot of time behind a wheel or operating on some injured merc, becoming better at it with every time.
She's also sharpened her skills in fighting and built her XO suit in that time, determined to never be put in that situation she had been in with the Varren again. The idea that Tyler may have just abandoned her never truly left her, but she buried it as deeply as she could. He couldn't have just left her. He couldn't have. The fact that she had never heard of his death or found a body gnaws at her confidence in the matter, however, keeping her from fully laying it to rest. Rather than address her problems, Key distracts herself from them. When she isn't doing clinic for hire work, she's betting her credits in various forms of gambling. Some people turn to alcohol for their problems, Key turns to the rush of everything depending on one random roll.
She's been meaning to save up so she can go to an asari school of alien medicine, and become a proper doctor, rather than someone who just knows how to stitch up battle wounds. Everytime she gets any amount of credits saved up, however, she can't fight the urge to take it and bet it all away (something she feels extremely guilty for, but can't stop herself) She's never won, but there's always that slight chance that she can go from rags to riches in an instant, bringing her back every time.
Recently, desiring a change of pace, she found herself on a small shuttle out of space. A simple job, something to get her name out there and get her some jobs outside of Omega, maybe even Terminus space.
Strengths:Skilled Driver : Key is talented at driving vehicles, started when she raced on the side working for Zertus, and honed when she was going through Omega for the clinci, racing to the client. She boasts that 'As long as it has wheels and an engine, I can drive it' while an exaggeration (she certainly would have no idea how to drive a tank, for example) as long as the controls to drive it are familiar to her, Key is capable of skillfully driving the vehicle.
Scrap specialist: As a Quarian, Key is no stranger to repairing whatever is broken with whatever happens to be available, often pieces of other things made to work. While not as talented at it , she knows how to maintain and fix her weapons and armor, and how to keep machines running long after they should have quit. She also has a solid grasp of hacking, programming, and the creation (and manipulation) of VI's, though it, like her skills with tools, is a skill of long practice and not natural talent. She's just good enough to get by.
Scrappy Fighter: After almost a decade in the Terminus Systems, and being a Quarian in the Terminus, Key has learned how to handler herself in a fight. It'd be a stretch to call her trained, or even disciplined, but she's good at fighting in close to mid range combat and won't back down when her team needs her.
Battle Surgeon: After almost ten years of patching together various aliens for credits, Key has gotten good at fixing people up after they've been injured. She is by no stretch of the imagination an actual doctor. She doesn't know the proper names for half of what she's stitching up while inside of an alien, and nor does she know how medication beyond pain killers and anesthetics affect the various races. She can fix your physical injuries. She's useless for any sickness or mental illnesses.
Dextro-Cook: Out of necessity, Key is a very good cook of Dextro foods. She grew tired of eating the same tasteless paste day in and day out and became determined to learn how to cook purified Turian food (and, as a result, the non-purified versions.)
Weaknesses:Varren Phobia: Ever since her near death experience at the hands of several of those monsters, Key has a deep, instinctual, terror of the Varren. The sight of them is enough to make her start hyper ventilating, and if one gets too close she'll panic completely. Given how closely Varren, Vorcha, and Krogan are associated with one another, this extends to a lesser degree to Krogan. She gets nervous and even more twitchy around Krogan and Vorcha, expecting a Varren to leap out of the shadows at their command any second.
Gambler: Key has a gambling problem. Something about the chance of winning or losing it all at a simple roll of the dice or reveal of the cards gives her a rush she can't get anywhere else. While she's never lost anything significant, she also has never had anything significant to lose. More credits will certainly make this problem worse.
Hot-blooded: Key has a tendency to let her emotions control her actions and thoughts, more than her logic. Particularly her anger. It's not hard to get a rise out of her, and even less difficult to make her do something stupid because of it. She's a passionate person, but is often ruled by her passions rather than motivated by them.
Suit-Rat: Key has all the drawbacks of a Quarian. She has to regulate and prepare her own food. She has to check her suit daily to make sure that it is still sealed to prevent any contaminants from getting it. If her suit is exposed to contaminants, at best she'd end up with severe allergy symptoms, at worst she'd get an infection that would ravage her body and kill her. Most people think she's a beggar looking for hand outs at best, a thief looking to steal anything she can at worst.
Misc: Key can play the human guitar, and is fairly good at it. She has an electric one and a custom built amp in her apartment on Omega.
Key loves the human punk culture, and has a playlist of their heavy rock songs queued up and ready to go at any time.
Key is an avid follower of Clawball and Biotiball, frequently betting on the outcomes of those games.
Key has a collection of useless things that she keeps around purely because she likes the way they look. This ranges from a pretty rock to a spent shell casing that she thinks looks nice. She's constantly gathering more as she goes about her missions. She doesn't really have a reason, she just likes something and picks it up. She's a bit of a hoarder.
Key has managed to buy several books detailing alien anatomy and physiology, and studies them frequently. She loves learning about how every race's unique body ticks, and loves talking about it even more.
Key shamelessly loves garbage soap opera tv shows, terrible romance novels (you know the ones. Where every cover has a some male showing off his muscles or power with something ominous above him like 'He could take on anything, except her love.'), and her favorite movies are movies like Fleet and Flotilla (her second favorite being horror movies, and she has a large collection of both in her apartment and omni-tool.).
Key likes to use Simstims to experience things she normally could not, given her practically nonexistent immune system.
Key is a video game nerd, having clocked several hundred hours on
Galaxy of Fantasy,
Grim Terminus Alliance,
Alliance Corsair, and numerous other games.
Key enjoys hand puzzles (like the rubrics cube) and has at least one on her at all times.
Member
Auz,
Spoopy Scary,
AlteredTundra,
Lord Zee
