Wernher

Mass Effect: Stories of the Soldiers

"I can think of a few fun endings." He answered to the Asari with a sly smirk, only distinguishable because of the form of his eyes. Still, he moved aside to let that new partner take a seat and remained silent on the subject of the fish sticks. He had his suspicion confirmed as to the nature of the sticks thanks to Sicari serving as a guinea pig. Too bad, he enjoyed good dextro fish sticks, not ridiculously messy to eat like... anything else. In fact, he just liked meat, not as much for the taste as to confirm his own success. Quarian diet was generally vegan, no meat on ships, vegetables gave more calories compared to the energy required to produce it.

As Simbel saw the Salarian approach however, he became silent, his VI scanning the newcomer. He wasn't a merc like them, he was people, with a life and a family. Visibly 'Chryseis' had done her home work. But still, he wasn't sure he liked his attitude. That and there was something that really bugged him. Oh it wasn't the fact that she threatened the life of the poor man and that of his entire family, he didn't care about that, no, it was about the payment.

Without warning, Simbel's robotic hand unceremoniously yanked off the papers from Sicari's hand before they could disappear under her arm. He passed the document to his left hand. "Oh don't worry, might as well delete this one if you're going to be the leader in this operation, plenty of time to look at the real thing if you take point, but see, there's the small matter of my special compensation..."

He turned his gaze to the paper but still had her mechanized limb at the ready to intercept any hand trying to grab his neck and snap a wrist. He didn't know this Turian but she seemed like someone easily pissed. He looked back at her and threw the paper on the table. "Unacceptable. Either you girls give me half the payment or we make mission expenses common. That or I'm a glorified cab driver and I go follow you on foot. No way I'm taking out my gunship for pocket change like that." Seventy-Five-Thousand credz alone was more than a lot of mercs did in a year but what people struggled to understand was how the trigger Simbel pressed basically shot money. The twin machineguns shot so fast he had to change the coolers almost at every mission and add a block of titanium to be shredded for ammo since he could actually run out of them quite easily, something that practically never happens to a rifle, and that was without counting the missiles which were 15,000 credits a piece. His profit was heavily dependent on how stingy he was on ammunition, on the worst contracts he actually stood to LOSE money! He didn't know of his colleagues here, but for him a half a million contract was hardly anything impressive.

He looked at the two eye candy around him. "So, what will it be?"

[OOC: Basically if you think gunship would be overkill at first, feel free to tell him he's walking.]

Mass Effect: Stories of the Soldiers

Post length should diminish. Still, is that good? Let me know if the flirting becomes annoying OOC.

Mass Effect: Stories of the Soldiers

(Tell me if a gunship is too much, I don't mind removing it.)



Name: Simbel

Age: 23

Species: Quarian

Gender: Male

Appearance:
Under the suit can be considered a particularly attractive Quarian, but a careful eye would see some discreet scars from a previous plastic surgery operation made to hide the scars of a particularly bad exposure to a virus that had left Simbel's skin particularly disfigured. Still, he enjoys a somewhat more feminine (although he'd call it a more turian) form with a good posture, the of his suit and synthetic arm showing he places care in his appearance.

Occupation: Freelance Gunship Pilot & Synthetic Disposal Expert

Class: Engineer

Powers:
-Sabotage (Hack)
-Overload
-Marksman
-Incinerate
-Energy Drain
-Overclock Shield

Weapons:
-M-3 Predator
-Blood Pack Punisher

Armor:
Modified Custom Devlon armor, boosted shield capacity.

Apparel:
Atypical Quarian exo-suit, non fleet made, considered much more fashionable and personally customized than anything Quarians usually wear, within or outside of the fleet, despite mostly been clean cut and light on details. It is notable that the armor IS the suit and one goes with the other.

Equipment:
-Omnitool (Contains multiple illegal hacking software and a modified VI modeled after Turian Porn Actress Augusta Cali)
-Synthetic Arm of an unknown manufacturer.
-Physical Tools.
-A shitload of omnigel.
-A Turian Gunship.

Personality:
Cocky and elitist, he likes to savor the better things in life with the better people (Read: More attractive) in it, thus easily spending his pay, despite it being considerably superior to even most leaders of mercenary outfits since he's one of the only person with a gunship, the ability to pilot it and the will to use it for less legal purposes out there. His personality is quite centered on his rejection of Quarian values and ideals, thus making him somewhat of a selfish asshole that only stops to care about others if they have something he wants out of them, either a contract or a night with them. At least that's with Aliens. With Quarians? He has a personal grudge, enjoying seeing pilgrims struggle with their task and exploit them for his own fun and benefits, using their naive belief that Quarians all look out for each other to reach his ends.

Biography:
He doesn't like to talk about his younger days, not as much because he found it painful, but because even he realize that it makes him sound like an edgy asshole that seeks petty revenge. See, he was simply smaller and shyer than the others and constantly got teased and bullied during his childhood. Time in the flotilla didn't make things better as his bitterness made him sabotage his own attempt at romance and friendship with others, people rejecting him even further when he had the audacity to question the 'Us or them' stance of Quarians on the geth, causing him to somewhat admire a robotic race where there were no individuals, where there weren't rejected people like him, although he was quick to shut up and let these thoughts and his distaste of his own people fester in silence.

When the pilgrimage arrived, he and 3 other of his kind went to Illium and stuck together for a time, figuring out a plan. The group however was quick to turn to one of Simbel's old class bully for leadership, the two girls with him ignoring him completely to look up to the other man of the group, who himself ordered Simbel around like trash. One of the girls became a couple with said guy and naively, Simbel thought he had a chance with the other girl, only to see her romance a Turian. Disgusted by his own naivete and the situation, he decided in bitter revenge to trick them. 'All Quarians look the same in these suits' was something he used to get enormous loans in the name of the 3 others of his group and as the heat of both legal and illegal borrowings got to him, he threw his 'friends' under the bus, leaving Illium for Omega while laughing at their desperate call for help on his omnitool.

With the money he bought his first gunship. His father was a pilot and had showed him the ropes, since after all he didn't spend his youth socializing, so he knew the basics. It was enough, as after all he had a motherfucking gunship at his command, which immediately made him a freelancer extremely in demand from bigger and smaller organizations needing the firepower at extreme cost, since he was smart enough to join another pilot which suggested they control the prices of their services as not to undercut each other and thus make a lot of profit. It all worked extremely well for him actually, he reworked a new personality to show people who knew nothing about him and changed completely, going from shy to exuberant and confident. Still, his status was quite fragile and one day, his luck ran out. Quite simply, he was shot down in a gang war he was taking part in. This left him almost dying of exposure and bleeding out from having lost an arm.

That was when in a stroke of luck, a lone Quarian saved him. She was young and had just started her pilgrimage and naively saved him, healing him with what little supplies she had and as they crawled in the dirt of Omega, he narrowly survived the multiple infections he had been afflicted with. Still, there was the problem that his bread and butter was gone, he had no gunship. He had to fall back on his backup knowledge of electronics and that of his new lady friend to survive. She was looking up to him, he knew his way around and from his story (In which of course he omitted to mention his backstab of his colleagues), he knew how to get things done and without a doubt, how to get a worthy gift for the flotilla. Simbel of course thanked his luck to send him such a dumb but capable idiot for him to use and began to scheme pretty much like he did before with the others, taking loan and doing crimes, pissing off people and shifting the blame on her.

It didn't go as planned on the emotional side however as Simbel found her female friend slowly fall in love with him. When she confessed, Simbel was taken by surprise. He had relations with others of course on Omega, but all with aliens and flings, this was... new. He found himself wanting to love her back, but the deed was done, his new girlfriend was fucked 10 times over by bad people who'd follow her across the galaxy to get their due and she didn't know he was the responsible. Could he run away with her? No, people would realize he was involved and chase him too, and she was still very eager to return to the flotilla, and that would lead to people asking very embarrassing questions as to the faith of the 3 others with him. Ultimately, he played the game to the end.

He left her without a word, knowing she'd die for reasons unknown to her, for him to gather money to start back his life style. As he left for council space for a new contract on the citadel he did his best to convince himself that she meant nothing and that his hate was still burning.

Mass Effect: Stories of the Soldiers

"Hey, don't fucking blame me, it's certainly not like I built the geths myself!" Simbel looked at the passenger seat, annoyed behind the glass of his mask, at his friend and colleague Francis (Tall, kinda chubby with short brown hairs forming a wave on his head). This whole fucking Eden Prime business was ridiculous. "I know, but you did say 'It's stupid to fear the geth' that time a week back." And he rested his case, his entire history class was basically not the story of the Quarians but that of the geth. They hadn't attacked anything out of the Veil since their creation so why attack an agricultural world in the middle of nowhere, a colonial outpost of humans which they had never even encountered before at that. But the thing that bugged him the most was that there was no strategic advantage to be gained, Simbel knew for a fact that if geth attacked, they'd aim to be efficient and would have gone for the mineral rich and industrial worlds in one fell swoop.

"Yes, and I still think this is fucking retarded for them to just attack like this, for no reason. Even the most basic chess VI isn't that stupid." Francis sighed before closing his eyes for a few seconds to then turn his head toward Simbel. "Ok, I'm sorry, I'm over reacting... It's just, I'm still a reservist, and you bet I don't want to be called back to Earth to fight a war." Simbel shrugged as he pulled over to his location. "So don't. What can the alliance do if you're not in human space?" They landed and Simbel opened the door of the shuttle before looking at Francis who just smiled apologetically to him. "I don't think you can understand Simbel." Well. At least he didn't give him the patriotism speech. Ooooh he implied it alright, but at least he didn't say it. Simbel left the cab and closed the door behind him. No, fuck that guy! He thought, as he entered the bar, can't let this ruin his mood.

He felt his energy come back to him but that only lasted for a moment. "You have to buy to stay in this establishment, suit rat." Simbel stopped in his track before turning himself toward the bouncer... and raising his head to be able to look at him in the eyes. Well, he'd have wanted to smack him for his impudence, but, well, that was a krogan. Simbel might have a uber powerful robot arm capable of snapping a Turian's neck, he couldn't do shit against that meat loaf. Well, nothing that wouldn't get him charged of murder by C-Sec. "Yeah. That's usually the case." Simbel tried to casually brush him off like so and continue in the bar. Still, he hoped the krogan wouldn't stop him further, he didn't want to humiliate himself by showing his credit acount or have to bribe him. Still, playing it cool and confident worked nicely. As the humans called it, 'Bavarian Fire Drill', act like what you're doing is completely normal and people tended to follow.

_______________________________

"I'll take that, thaaaaank you!" The Salarian muttered under his breath, calling him a cheater. With reason actually, Simbel's VI was counting the cards and the odds as well as analyzing the facial expression of everyone on the table... well, of the Salarian. The Volus was genuinely talented and was also masked, so Simbel couldn't use his tech against him. Too bad the Volus didn't use one of these electronic glasses to correct his sight, Simbel could have had hacked this to see his cards if he had. That was the moment however when he saw that Turian Gal enter. It was suspicious, she was the only one with some form of combat gear here, plus from the looseness near her hips and underarm he could tell she was a scoundrel, he knew the old smuggling trick too. But really what was the most obvious was that Simbel was using facial recognition and searching the extranet for everyone who entered the bar and she had nothing. The mark of someone competent was not to leave a trace, but here where everyone broadcasted their lives on the social networks? It was a give away. "Alright, that's it for tonight, it's been fun gentlemen."

Simbel looked at the Turian some more as he went to buy dextro fish sticks at the counter and a drink. No confirmed C-Sec file either for her face, although earlier today images of a Turian girl with identical clothes had been taken during a chase for drug consummation, but it was only a picture of a backside. Had to be someone gunning for the same contract he was, at least he hopped. She looked more competent than any one in the bar at the moment and hell, Turian ass made any mission at least 33% more enjoyable. With his fish sticks (Paid by the money of the bouncer, fucking asshat), Simbel went to her table.

Arriving next to it, Simbel unceremonously placed the plate at the middle of the table, revealing himself to her. Simbel had no idea who the woman was, but the reverse might not be true. On Omega where was only 4 independent gunship pilots and of them, only one Quarian which had gotten himself somewhat if a reputation. "Hello miss. I don't suppose you'd know about that Turian ass, would you?" Smirking behind his helmet, he showed Sicari a picture of her own back with his omnitool, shining a cyan light over the table. "C-Sec would want to get their hands all over it. I guess I wouldn't mind either though." He snickered before slowly sitting in front of her. "Though, all admiration of your lower body aside... I'm going to guess you're here for the same reason that I am... At least I hope that you are, would be pretty sad if you're not, considering you're the only thing that looks half capable here..." He lowered his eyes on the plate at the middle of the table and took a stick. Moving it a few centimeter toward him, he stopped his movement to look up to Sicari. He extended the fried thing toward her. "Fish stick?"

Mass Effect: Stories of the Soldiers

(Tell me if a gunship is too much, I don't mind removing it.)



Name: Simbel

Age: 23

Species: Quarian

Gender: Male

Appearance:
Under the suit can be considered a particularly attractive Quarian, but a careful eye would see some discreet scars from a previous plastic surgery operation made to hide the scars of a particularly bad exposure to a virus that had left Simbel's skin particularly disfigured. Still, he enjoys a somewhat more feminine (although he'd call it a more turian) form with a good posture, the of his suit and synthetic arm showing he places care in his appearance.

Occupation: Freelance Gunship Pilot & Synthetic Disposal Expert

Class: Engineer

Powers:
-Sabotage (Hack)
-Overload
-Marksman
-Incinerate
-Energy Drain
-Overclock Shield

Weapons:
-M-3 Predator
-Blood Pack Punisher

Armor:
Modified Custom Devlon armor, boosted shield capacity.

Apparel:
Atypical Quarian exo-suit, non fleet made, considered much more fashionable and personally customized than anything Quarians usually wear, within or outside of the fleet, despite mostly been clean cut and light on details. It is notable that the armor IS the suit and one goes with the other.

Equipment:
-Omnitool (Contains multiple illegal hacking software and a modified VI modeled after Turian Porn Actress Augusta Cali)
-Synthetic Arm of an unknown manufacturer.
-Physical Tools.
-A shitload of omnigel.
-A Turian Gunship.

Personality:
Cocky and elitist, he likes to savor the better things in life with the better people (Read: More attractive) in it, thus easily spending his pay, despite it being considerably superior to even most leaders of mercenary outfits since he's one of the only person with a gunship, the ability to pilot it and the will to use it for less legal purposes out there. His personality is quite centered on his rejection of Quarian values and ideals, thus making him somewhat of a selfish asshole that only stops to care about others if they have something he wants out of them, either a contract or a night with them. At least that's with Aliens. With Quarians? He has a personal grudge, enjoying seeing pilgrims struggle with their task and exploit them for his own fun and benefits, using their naive belief that Quarians all look out for each other to reach his ends.

Biography:
He doesn't like to talk about his younger days, not as much because he found it painful, but because even he realize that it makes him sound like an edgy asshole that seeks petty revenge. See, he was simply smaller and shyer than the others and constantly got teased and bullied during his childhood. Time in the flotilla didn't make things better as his bitterness made him sabotage his own attempt at romance and friendship with others, people rejecting him even further when he had the audacity to question the 'Us or them' stance of Quarians on the geth, causing him to somewhat admire a robotic race where there were no individuals, where there weren't rejected people like him, although he was quick to shut up and let these thoughts and his distaste of his own people fester in silence.

When the pilgrimage arrived, he and 3 other of his kind went to Illium and stuck together for a time, figuring out a plan. The group however was quick to turn to one of Simbel's old class bully for leadership, the two girls with him ignoring him completely to look up to the other man of the group, who himself ordered Simbel around like trash. One of the girls became a couple with said guy and naively, Simbel thought he had a chance with the other girl, only to see her romance a Turian. Disgusted by his own naivete and the situation, he decided in bitter revenge to trick them. 'All Quarians look the same in these suits' was something he used to get enormous loans in the name of the 3 others of his group and as the heat of both legal and illegal borrowings got to him, he threw his 'friends' under the bus, leaving Illium for Omega while laughing at their desperate call for help on his omnitool.

With the money he bought his first gunship. His father was a pilot and had showed him the ropes, since after all he didn't spend his youth socializing, so he knew the basics. It was enough, as after all he had a motherfucking gunship at his command, which immediately made him a freelancer extremely in demand from bigger and smaller organizations needing the firepower at extreme cost, since he was smart enough to join another pilot which suggested they control the prices of their services as not to undercut each other and thus make a lot of profit. It all worked extremely well for him actually, he reworked a new personality to show people who knew nothing about him and changed completely, going from shy to exuberant and confident. Still, his status was quite fragile and one day, his luck ran out. Quite simply, he was shot down in a gang war he was taking part in. This left him almost dying of exposure and bleeding out from having lost an arm.

That was when in a stroke of luck, a lone Quarian saved him. She was young and had just started her pilgrimage and naively saved him, healing him with what little supplies she had and as they crawled in the dirt of Omega, he narrowly survived the multiple infections he had been afflicted with. Still, there was the problem that his bread and butter was gone, he had no gunship. He had to fall back on his backup knowledge of electronics and that of his new lady friend to survive. She was looking up to him, he knew his way around and from his story (In which of course he omitted to mention his backstab of his colleagues), he knew how to get things done and without a doubt, how to get a worthy gift for the flotilla. Simbel of course thanked his luck to send him such a dumb but capable idiot for him to use and began to scheme pretty much like he did before with the others, taking loan and doing crimes, pissing off people and shifting the blame on her.

It didn't go as planned on the emotional side however as Simbel found her female friend slowly fall in love with him. When she confessed, Simbel was taken by surprise. He had relations with others of course on Omega, but all with aliens and flings, this was... new. He found himself wanting to love her back, but the deed was done, his new girlfriend was fucked 10 times over by bad people who'd follow her across the galaxy to get their due and she didn't know he was the responsible. Could he run away with her? No, people would realize he was involved and chase him too, and she was still very eager to return to the flotilla, and that would lead to people asking very embarrassing questions as to the faith of the 3 others with him. Ultimately, he played the game to the end.

He left her without a word, knowing she'd die for reasons unknown to her, for him to gather money to start back his life style. As he left for council space for a new contract on the citadel he did his best to convince himself that she meant nothing and that his hate was still burning.

Failed State

Well, since I'm the main shit bird in question, it's mainly because I work all week and have a window of post during the weekend.

Well, that's that. Anyone feel free to use this RP and its ideas for your own use.

Genuinely sorry for those who had made an effort on their sheets and for those who expected great things from this.

Failed State

Right! Thank you for your vote of confidence, I'll try to finish the IC post today!

Failed State

Well, people are dropping life flies, I got word Serp decided to retreat from the guild, for personal reasons.

Can I make a role call to know who's still in this? Because my motivation to continue the IC is kind of in the shitter, and I can't ask my co-GM, who never completed his sheet, for help.

Failed State

Alright, going to post this weekend to move on the plot. If you didn't post, try and get your ass in gear! Also, yes, it says open so you can join.

gorgenmast, sounds good, but please send a PM about what that special mission is, ok?

Failed State

Yo, Wernher, am I officially accepted?

@ClocktowerEchos

Change defectors to '4' and patriots to 600, unarmor all vehicles, remove military vehicles.

Start with molotovs and work your way up, friend!