Character bios

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Character bios

Post  Mischa Brendel on Sun May 01, 2011 7:12 am



Name: August Solitaire
Upbringing: Londinium
Age: 39
Known relatives: none

August was born under a different name as the only son of wealthy parents both holding political careers. He was never one to socialize with others, something that became more and more apparent during his early years in school. At one point he got beaten up by an older child, but later got his revenge by drowning the child. August’s quick wits made sure everybody thought that the older kid had just fallen off a bridge and drowned. This was the first time August realized he was good in hunting and killing people.

At the age of twelve, August was sent to a boarding school. Due to the strict rules upheld by the school, August performed better there than he had at his previous school. But although he did not have any trouble with learning, again he preferred the path of solitude. Every now and then he got in a fight, but in general the other kids left him alone, since they were afraid of him.

As soon as August was legally free to do as he pleased, he changed his name and took on the life of a mercenary and not long after that, a bounty hunter. He was good in what he did. Good enough to make life pretty comfortable for himself, although he was never one to live the life of the rich and famous. He never sought contact with his family again.

When the war broke out August joined the Alliance, figuring that they would end up as the winner. The Alliance military soon saw the potential in August’s skills and he was assigned to the covert ops unit, meaning that most of his missions consisted of assassination, theft and sabotage. Doing that which he was best in, the Alliance thought August a suitable candidate for their Operative program.

During his first year – which also turned out to be his last year – in the program, August learned a great many new skills, among which the most important were sword fighting and learning how to ‘read’ people. However, August was not prepared to follow every order given to him blindly, leading to him being dropped out of the program. The Alliance military reinstated August as a lieutenant in the covert ops unit, where he once more completed his missions with great success.

At the end of the war the Alliance military tried to kill August, deeming him too dangerous to be kept alive. August however saw through the scheme and managed to escape with several documents containing information which the Alliance would not want to become public knowledge.
It was only after he escaped, that August took on the name of August Solitaire, a name which he still carries today.

Once again August took on the life of a bounty hunter. As he made his escape after having taken out another target, he stumbled upon a small group of travelers, who happened to have a free berth for August, which secured his safe passage off-world. The ship was called the Claudia and to August’s astonishment he was almost immediately offered the position of XO. Suspecting the captain might have alterior motives, August accepted the position with reservations. However, he soon found out that many of the crew, including the captain, were sought by the law. Using this information August blackmailed the captain into handing over command to him.

August was now the captain of a ship, something entirely new and therefore challenging for him. However, on his first mission things immediately turn dark. A lot happens, but it basically comes down to August losing almost his entire crew. The only ones left are his pilot and the pilot’s dog on a heavily damaged ship.
Months pass and August and his pilot Olaf Simmerson manage to repair the ship again and even assemble a skeleton crew. With that, they head out into the Black once more to find a job that will give them the money they desperately need. On their way to their first job in a long time, the crew stumbles upon a derelict shuttle, out of which they rescue a man and a woman, which unofficially become the two newest crew members. But before it can get away properly, the Odyssey is intercepted by bounty hunters who are interested in one particular crew member…
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Mischa Brendel

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Re: Character bios

Post  James M on Wed May 04, 2011 1:54 am

Ronon Dex

Setida Shadow

Browncoat specialist

6' 4" of lean muscle

Brown eyes

Tanned appearance

Dresses in wragged clothing due to running for 7 years

Long thick dreads

James M

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Re: Character bios

Post  Misty Taylor on Thu May 05, 2011 7:57 pm


Ayla Seton
19
5’3” & 100 Lbs.
Blue eyes - Black hair
Father: Stuart Seton (presumed dead, shot by Alliance soldier during U-war)
Mother: Lyndah Seton (deceased
Step-Father- Phelps

Tatoo on inside of right wrist - in Chinese - Free

Ayla grew up on Haven, with her mother and Buddy Phelps. A month before her 15th birthday her mother died. Buddy now being alone with no companionship decided Ayla, being young, would be her mother’s replacement. After a week of suffering his unwanted attentions and abuse, and with the help of Gisele Morgan, she was able to escape. Ayla fixed Buddy his usual drink, only this time she had added the small packet Gisele had given her earlier in the day. Once the drug had taken affect, Ayla grabbed the meager belongings she had stashed and quickly made her way the pre-arranged meeting spot where she was to meet the Captain of The Plymouth, John West. He gave Ayla a job aboard his ship as cook. Over the past few years West and his crew had taught her how to shoot and she became rather good with a gun.

Recently, they had a bad job that ended with the death of the ship’s first mate and also West’s wife. He decided that life in the black wasn’t what he wanted anymore, and sold The Plymouth. Ayla, along some of the remaining crew decided they would stay on with the new owner, a Mr. Nigel Krumnow. Or at least she did until she pulled a knife on the new boss for getting a little too friendly. He had cornered her and made a pass that was too reminiscent of what she had run from. Needless to say, Mr. Krumnow didn’t take to kindly to her response and ordered Ayla off the ship, which happened to be nearest Deadwood. There she found employment on a new ship, The Odyssey.

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Shadai Liu-Gao bio

Post  dratliff on Fri Jul 01, 2011 8:18 pm

Name: Shadaina Taylor (birth)
Alias: Shadaina Wellington-Masters (adopted), Shadai Liu-Gao (current)
Age: 32
Gender: Female
Occupation: historian, assassin, murderer
Height: 6'0"
Weight: Appropriate
Themesong: Bury Me With My Guns On - Bobaflex

History: Ask anyone who knows about her proclivities, and you're sure to get the phrase "nobody knows quite where she became what she became or where her need to "help" the dying came from." And it'd be a bald-faced lie if that person were part of the Alliance military with access to her records. It suits her to remain innocuous, however, and so she rarely refutes the claim. The Alliance were the ones who interrupted the Reaver attack on the small freighter she and her family owned, by chance, and killed the maddened cannibals. It left most of those on board the "Penelope" alive - except for her parents and a few others. Four year old Shadaina and her two-year-old brother, Gawyn, were taken in along with the other refugees and the "Penelope" was scrapped where it floated, unusable. Shadaina has no real recollection of any home planet, and so she claims (almost certainly rightly so) that she was born shipside the same as Gawyn.

She and her brother were placed in a Londinium orphanage, and then separated and sent to different homes. She never saw him again and knows nothing of his whereabouts or what name he received. She could, in all reality, find out if she wanted; however, she has no desire to be burdened these days with the trappings of someone to care about. Fostered by a man who worked for the military, at rank, and his historian wife, Shadaina grew up with a new last name and a head for history. Her heart was another matter. She was taught to shoot and use weapons by her doting adopted father, who treated her as the son he lost years before. She entered fine schools and went into the military as early as she legally could, purely for the fighting and weapons involved. They fascinated her completely. She also enjoys being an antiquarian and collects historical items - weapons especially - and can reasonably and accurately date just about anything. It's a knack she has. Her specialty is in Asian and European items from Earth-That-Was, between 1 BCE and 1800 BCE. Weapons discovered from those ancient times thrill her to find and document, even repair back to some semblance of use when requested. Her other love is the violin, and she owns, draconically one might note, a Stradivarius from the late 2300s. Though it might be considered expensive on the market currently, it wasn't when made as it was made to play rather than be in some museum. And so play it she does. Her parents bought it for her 17th birthday, and began her tutelage on a much smaller and less expensive instrument at age six, to celebrate her first year of living with them as their daughter.

Though she was thrilled to join the military, the reality of it truly sucked. Not only was she a woman trying to do a "man's job" in the Alliance, she didn't like taking orders from intellectual and martial inferiors. She knew she was smarter than they were, and knew she could outwit them on a battlefield let alone with a gun in hand, but they refused to give her the chance. As tensions rose, Shadaina was pulled and her skills put to better use in training for assassination and sniping missions. Part of the reason had to do with an officer finding her in the medbays at one point in 2506, assisting in the suicide of terminal patients from one of the battles. Rather than court-martial her, they found another use for her inclinations. She was told that there were parts of the Alliance that were dying hopelessly and in need of termination, and she would be the clinical operation to remove those gangrenous areas. She liked this new position much better. In fact, she excelled at her training once the thumb of her oppressors were off of her, and left her free to pursue studies in tactics, strategy, combat, and weaponry. She still had superiors, and orders, but the autonomy made up for it. By the time her training started coming to a close, she was set on the path to becoming an Operative, leaving her name and past behind for the good of the Alliance, when two things happened in succession.

First, The Operative sent to collect River Tam and halt the information in her head from spreading, in early 2519, failed in his mission and went rogue. He became wanted, and thus she was made an offer: remove him as a threat, and she would take his place instead of work as an equal. Though she initially jumped at the chance, the Alliance had not foreseen the second thing happening - or if they had, they hadn't counted on it causing the reaction it did.

Second was, of course, that Shadaina actually saw the recording of how the Reapers came to be courtesy of the Alliance and their Pax. The fact that the Alliance had attempted to chemically control a population so they wouldn't go to war wasn't her concern. Whatever had to be done would be done. She'd been through the war, and her need to give the ultimate peace to those who suffered the most went along with her idea of war as suffering. The fact that it peaced people to death actually interested her quite a bit as a method of administering a calm and peaceful ending. No, what bothered her was that the Alliance had made the Reapers in doing so, and the Reapers had killed her family in front of her, almost making her just as insane at such a young age. She had lived for nearly thirty years with a deep-rooted hatred of the Reapers and a need to kill them all to satisfy that hatred. And then she discovered that the cause of her hatred was the powers that she served - and they hadn't even owned up to it despite seeing the results in her files.

That irritated her. A lot.

She took the shuttle given to her by the military to chase down Operative as ordered. Instead, she turned her skills against the Alliance, killed several ranking men of import on the accompanying ship she was on, and fled. If she couldn't have her vengeance on the Reapers, then she would take it out on those who had anything to do with the Pax, the cover-up, or the military at large. She might never become a vaunted and feared Operative, but she would have her pound of flesh. She vanished without a trace. Changing her name and working as an antiquarian and part-time smuggler and pirate, she had made her way here or there, sometimes right under the noses of those searching for her, and has been making quite a living collecting her valuable, priceless antiques. When the hounds get too close, she usually knows about it in enough time to pick up stakes and head out without advanced notice. Usually.


Last edited by dratliff on Wed Jul 13, 2011 3:20 am; edited 2 times in total

dratliff

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Re: Character bios

Post  Jon Stapley on Sat Jul 02, 2011 7:20 pm

Ashe Tallis



Sex: F
Age: 25
Occupation: Field Medic
Place of Birth: Sihnon

Appearance: Youthful and slender, dressed in rough, border-spun clothes, auburn hair kept relatively short and practical. Attractive but weatherworn, a Core-bred beauty sullied by years of space travel and too much time spent on hot desert planets.

Items on person:
1 standard-issue medkit
1 silver rifle, inscribed with the name “Maria”.
1 box of bullets
1 pouch of tobacco, and papers
A little money, enough for a short shuttle ride between border planets

Biog:
The Tallis family had always been one of high repute on Sihnon. Alexander Tallis was not only of noble blood, but also a surgeon, one of the best, and his spirit, zest for life and sheer effortless class were the talk of high society. Never short of a brandy in one hand and a cigar in the other, Alexander was the life and soul of every ball, party and function held in Sihnon’s illustrious capital. He was often described as the perfect gentleman, with the perfect gentleman's life. He and his wife, decorated Alliance officer Maria Tallis, were to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary in September next year and they were already planning the most extravagant celebration that Sihnon had ever known. He had been blessed not only with a fine young son, Gabriel, who was embarking on a promising career with the police force, but also with a beautiful daughter, Ashe, who looked all set to follow his footsteps in the world of medicine. Yes, his life was, by all accounts, perfect.

It was only behind closed doors that the cracks began to show. Alexander and Maria made a show of their relationship when in company, a preposterous pantomime of a perfect marriage. At home, when the prying eyes of high society were fixed elsewhere, they had long-since settled into a groove of comfortably despising each other. Maria was military through and through; stiff, unreachable and pathologically incapable of emotional honesty, displaying more open fondness for the inscribed silver rifle hanging above the fireplace in the study than she ever had for her husband or children. Alexander’s fondness for good drink and good smokes had long since degenerated into ugly addiction and his wife loathed what she perceived as his “weakness”. He had long since had to quietly retire from surgery due to uncontrollable shaking of his hands and now he existed in a kind of sullen stupor, glaring and sniping over the neck of a bottle at everyone who crossed his path.

Ashe had been born into a family that knew no love and as such she had developed a kind of emotional hardness from a very young age. Terse, clinical and precise, she quickly learned that the only thing that could wring a modicum of praise from either of her parents was success or achievement, and as such she quickly learned to succeed. As a young girl she learned the value of quiet, of keeping out of her mother’s way, of allowing her father to keep himself sedated and docile, and especially of avoiding her brother’s temper. Sihnon’s most expensive private school became her point of refuge and she threw herself into education wholeheartedly. She excelled in the sciences, taking a strange kind of joy from the meticulousness of the scientific method, and it was not long at all before her teachers were nudging each other and gesturing meaningfully towards medical schools, the grim spectre of her famous father hanging grimly overhead.

Though she enjoyed science, Ashe had never enjoyed the prospect of becoming a doctor. As she grew and matured from a quiet, serious young girl into a mature, confident young woman, she realised that what she wanted most was nothing more than to be able to bury herself in research, to devote her life to the twin pursuits of scientific advancement and music (her other quiet passion, one she had been forced not flaunt too openly in front of her parents). She realised however, that medicine was her single best chance of being able to escape Sihnon and her family forever, and she intended to take it. Of course, other changes were also taking place. As she had grown, the physical awkwardness of her youth had dissipated and left behind it a strangely beautiful woman, one that aristocratic young men suddenly became all too keen to court. Though she was aware of the shallow nature of their interest in her, Ashe did not resent it. For the first time in her life, she began to relax. Though she had had friends here and there in the past, as she moved into university she discovered a new side to herself. She discovered that people would like her, and accept her for who she was. She discovered that she could have fun. She even discovered relationships, albeit with a good deal more clumsiness than most girls of her age.

The only problem was Gabriel.

Ashe’s elder brother had only ever excelled at two things: drinking, and allowing his temper to get the best of him. His mother’s influence had allowed him to begin training with the police force at 18. Though she was well aware of his shortcomings, she was determined that no son of hers would be considered anything less than a success. He was little more than a thug, but no-one in the Alliance police dared say so, not with his mother breathing down their neck. But there was more to it than that.

Ashe had known for a long time that her brother was rotten, that something inside him was broken and made him, well, different. The scary kind of different. She had seen the way his friends looked at him, heard the rumours around school about the kind of things they had got up to. She had seen what had happened to his various girlfriends, noticed the marks they had attempted to conceal with makeup. She had seen the cold, staring eyes of the animals he had tortured to death.

But most of all, she had seen the way he had looked at her.

Ashe had been packed off to school from a very young age, and had made the transition to university seamlessly, so the time she had spent at home was as minimal as it could have been. But nevertheless, she had seen it. Something in Gabriel’s eyes when he looked at her. Something beyond love or hatred. Something ugly. Something that had ensured that she always locked her door before going to sleep at night.

Gabriel had never laid a hand on her. Never openly declared intentions of any kind. As such, Ashe’s suspicions and fears had always remained as just that; suspicions. Honestly, she couldn’t properly articulate exactly what she feared from Gabriel. But in her heart, she knew that she was right to be afraid of him, and one night he proved her entirely correct.

Gabriel and his father had always held a special loathing for one another. Alexander had never shied away from expressing his disappointment with his son, with his lack of intelligence, his inelegance and his failure to meet the demands of high society. Gabriel’s resentment was palpable; he hated his father, despising the weakness of a once great man turned to drink and self-pity. The two had come to blows on more than one occasion, until Maria had stepped in, with hard military decisiveness. When Gabriel had been 18 and Ashe 16, he and his father had become embroiled in an argument at dinner, one which culminated with Gabriel striking Alexander square on the jaw. Screaming that enough was enough, Maria had informed Gabriel in no uncertain terms that he would have to choose between his temper or his position on the police force, that nowhere else would take a thuggish deadbeat like him. That he was not to squander the opportunities he was given, lest they be removed. Unintelligent as Gabriel was, even he could see that if the police would not take him, he had nowhere else to go. Thus, for several years, he and his father lay quiet, resentment bubbling under the surface, tensions building fit to burst.

One night, just three days after her 22nd birthday, Ashe was stumbling home, a little more inebriated than perhaps she should have been, full of good cheer after celebrating her then-boyfriend’s birthday with him and his friends. She let herself into the house with her spare key, silently as always, and slipped upstairs to her room without a backward glance. However, before settling in, she remembered that her father was home alone, that the house had come close to burning down on more than one occasion when he had fallen asleep in the study with a lit cigar in his hand. She had stopped in his study quickly, just to check that there was no danger before she would pass out on her bed.
He had been strangled. Her medical knowledge told her that instantly, while her conscious mind still reeled with shock. Strong, thick hands had been placed around his neck and had choked the life out of him. He had left his cigar lit like she’d guessed. The burning end had been pressed against his left eye.

She knew who was responsible, even before he quietly entered the room and shut the door behind him.

As she looked into Gabriel’s eyes she saw not a shred of humanity, of rationality. As he advanced slowly towards her, they were afire with purpose and grim intent. This, more than anything, hardened her resolved.

Gabriel’s fatal error was that he had never really known his sister, never gotten to understand what she was capable of. As she backed away, around the other side of the desk, he simply continued his slow advance, grinning. When she grabbed her mother’s silver rifle from the wall he simply laughed, taunting her, urging her to do it if she could. As she grabbed the box of bullets their mother kept in the drawer of her desk he snorted derisively, slurring dire threats of what he would shortly be doing to her. He was still smiling that damn smile when she finished loading the rifle, raised her sights and shot him through the head.

Ashe Tallis disappeared from Sihnon at around 6 o’clock the next morning. The warrant for her arrest was published two hours later.
She had known her mother would hunt her; it had never even been a question. Calmly throwing together her few possessions, she had booked passage under a pseudonym and left for Persephone before the sun had risen.

Arriving on Persephone, she knew immediately that he needed work. She needed to make herself useful, and quickly, or she would perish. It was her medical knowledge that saved her, the number of ships of ill-repute that needed a field medic who wouldn’t ask questions was constantly at a premium. Thus, before a day had passed Ashe found herself shipping out to Whitefall with the crew of the Machina, a group of amateur contraband smugglers with delusions of grandeur.

Three years passed. Ashe quickly learned the value of being a useful crew member, shipping out on several different crafts with all manner of crews and personalities. She sewed up more bullet holes and laser burns than she could count. She began to throw off the social strictures of Sihnon. She toughened up emotionally and physically, but also began to soften, learning the value of companionship and forming tight-knit bonds with many of her crewmates. She discovered a talent for haggling that came in handy in many a tough situation. To her eternal regret, she acquired a smoking habit. Cruicially, she never stayed with one crew too long, ever-mindful of the Alliance and the outstanding warrant for her arrest. As such, when she waved goodbye to the crew of the Delirium Trigger as they took off from Haven, it felt like nothing more than routine...

Jon Stapley

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