8th TL: Herrith's Workshop!

[Herrith]

Don't bloody post 'ere!

Ideas a-brewing.

 

[Herrith]

The Valengard Legacy

"There is more to your past than shame and sorrow, Svala...our family wasn't always disgraced..."​

 

[Herrith]

Alika Kazaczecho
​

MEDI FILE #828740
KAZ, ALIKA

Welcome Sign in

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  Bio Bio Pt. 2 Personality Phys.

  • Not a lot of people can say that they survived a speeder accident and their heart giving up and stopping completely because of it.
    
    Alika is one of the few that can. An extreme sports fanatic ever since childhood, she's been racing speeders on broken down streets and alleys ever since she could reach the controls, and been living alone for as long as she could stand and speak.
    
    Her expertise in racing brought her high both in street racing and in professional circuits where she was raised. She could get a handle on just about any speeder she wanted to, and boost any speeder she wanted to as well.
    
    Tragedy struck midway in her professional career, when she had taken an illegal and dangerous bike race on the side to pay for a couple new parts for her bike. A bad turn and a sudden dip found her falling right onto a power coupler, which both wrecked her vehicle and shocked her to death, where she miraculously managed to land, heart stopped, on a nearby platform as emergency responders arrived and took her to a hospital, where they managed to restart her heart and got her back to consciousness and recovery in a few days.
  • The illegal swoop races Alika found herself in proved to make her a less reputable person on the pro biking circuits, and she found herself instead working for the very hospital that had saved her life, delivering much needed medicine and aid on her speeder to the facility under the Sith Empire's nose. Things started looking up again with a stable job.
    
    One day she had been half way back to the hospital when she found it in flames. Local authorities hadn't appreciate the illegal deals going on for medical aid to avoid heavy taxing, so they'd shut it down and taken anyone willing to resist down with it.
    
    Alika had resorted to running, and ended up running right into the rebellion, getting in with a cell that called itself the Brigands.
    
    Misfits, to be sure, especially her, a lowly speeder bike racer--but she didn't want more hospitals set ablaze for doing the right thing. In Alika they found a strong marksman, outstanding scout, and, curiously, an able fighter in the trying times of the war.
    
    Alika could never have seen herself roaming the stars, especially not in a galactic war against the Sith Empire. Despite telling herself that she was only there long enough to get to a good planet to stick around on, a part of her longs for what she could do if she stayed.
  • As cheery as someone who's had their heart stopped and their life totally derailed can be, she's constantly one with a smile on her face and a sparkle in her eye.
    
    The 'jump start', as she likes to called it, to her heart seems to translate to her personality and general hyperactivity, constantly looking for something to do or at least direct her attention to. Fingers fly and tap, eyes dart around, and frame constantly shifts like lightning.
    
    The darkness of any situation seems to be where she shines brightest, anyways, and she always seems to have some kind of twisted joke for whatever the batch of Brigands manage to dig themselves into. Cheating death once seems to give her the confidence to cheat it once more, and again, even in dire situations.
    
    Even through her humor, Alika is relatively calm under pressure, a skill practiced from her racing career and honed into combat and insurgency. By no means a career soldier, but she manages to pull through from what she's learned and done.
  • Lightly tanned skin and a relatively average frame are the main anatomical features of Alika, and standing at 1.67 meters tends to make her look a whole lot smaller than anyone else, so many people may wonder how she manages to carry around a large rifle or get a speeder bike to do her bidding.
    
    Short dark hair and brown eyes surround a symmetrical face and straight nose, complemented by what is normally either a green jacket or racing jumpsuit, as well as shin-height laced combat boots and variations of pants and weapon holsters. The unit patch of her squad is sewn onto the shoulder of one of her jackets, and would generate little attention among people who weren't familiar with the Rebellion.
    
    Her accent, developed oddly considering her surroundings, is much different than the standard and neutral Basic tones, with heavy emphasis on vowels and w's turning into v's at times, as well as a slightly rolling of r's (OOC note: Kazakh or Turkic accent is similar).

Template by @ZayPat​

State of Massachusetts
Kickstart My Heart
Highway to Hell

Rest
In
Peace

 

[Herrith]

Svala Valengard​

BIOGRAPHY​

NAME: Svala Valengard
AGE: 19
SPECIES: Human/Deucalian

FACTION: Deucalia
EXPERTISE: Warrior

HEIGHT: 1.78 meters
WEIGHT: 75 kg
HAIR COLOR: Blonde
EYE COLOR: Blue

STRENGTH:
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DEXTERITY:
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STAMINA:
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INTELLIGENCE:
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WISDOM:
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CHARISMA:
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Valengard. At a young age, the name stung Svala like a knife. Other kids laughed at her for it. Her teachers and mentors scoffed and did their best to be polite. Her whole life, spat at and joked about because of a family name that she had no control over. Valengard. Her mother was disgraced, her father nowhere to be found, and her fellow Deucalians--unwilling to support a name belonging to a person who left the clans for money and greed. Or so she was told.

She grew strong, honest, and considered by many too brash. The other kids teamed up and beat on her till she learned to fight back. Coming home bloody and bruised, but with a smile on her face was rather common in her teenage years. She gained a reputation for being extremely hostile to those who dared mock her name, never hesitating to trade a broken limb for a cracked lip. Others painted her as a kind of troublemaker, an outcast always looking to get into a fight, find any excuse to beat on some poor kid. But that was never the case. Her mother, though always looking disappointed to her peers, felt proud that her Valengard child stood up to the others.

In adolescence, Svala undoubtedly found herself without anyone to spend time with--especially so because of her ailing mother--and focused her irritation, anger, and grief into fighting. She reached physical and mental fortitude that her fellow Deucalians lacked, and many would come to ask where it was she found her resolve. The answer was quite simple: because of them. Because, of course, without those same people who now stood in awe to shun her in her youth, Svala would have never found something worth working for. Something worth fighting to get.

Svala's mother's condition grew worse. Pneumonia, they called it--the doctors had deemed it untreatable. Whether that were the real case or whether it was because she was a Valengard, the woman would never know. She passed away only weeks later, leaving a child hardly reaching adulthood. But she didn't leave without first giving Svala one last push to do something amazing. Her whole life--she was being prepared for one thing. Restore the family's honor, rebuild their lost people, and let the Valengard legacy live on. Find a way to continue. As the old sayings always went from her mother: Valengards survive. Somehow.

And so began the quesr, sparked from her mother's dying words. Svala found a letter written to her upon returning home, detailing the location of very important pieces of equipment vital to both her past and her survival. Armor passed down through the long family tree, dusty and unused but still pristine. Her ancestor, she soon learner, wasn't just a dishonored mercenary looking for money. She had her reasons for leaving Deucalia. And now Svala was to carry the torch and bring light to their family once and for all.

PERSONALITY​

PRACTICAL SKILLS​

■■■■■ Slicing​	■■■■■ Survival​	■■■■■ Tracking​
■■■■■ Hunting​	■■■■■ Leadership​	■■■■■ Invest.​

COMBAT SKILLS​

■■■■■ Blasters​	■■■■■ Rifles​	■■■■■ Misc.​
■■■■■ Demo.​	■■■■■ H2H​	■■■■■ Sword/Shield​

EDUCATION​

■■■■■ Huttese​	■■■■■ Rodian​	■■■■■ Ryl​
■■■■■ Tactics​	■■■■■ Politics​	■■■■■ Espionage​

A striking image of the Deucalian people and culture as well as an individual, Svala maintains her hair in traditional braids and weaves in feathers, beads, and anything else that represents an achievement so as to higlight her rich heritage, freshly revealed to her after her mother's death. Blonde braids stand out among the crowd despite the common color, and ice blue eyes finish the pairing, bringing out her pale skin and hard, yet aesthetically pleasing features. Some consider it imposing, others prefer more friendly terms. Either way, Svala finds a striking resemblance to her distant ancestors--perhaps a sign of good luck.

Being ridiculed for her name taught the Valengard to take care of herself, often resorting to going to blows to solve a problem over any other diplomatic means, which has gotten her into trouble in the past. As of yet, she has not bit off more than she could chew in terms of fighting. Her tongue tends to cut as deep as her weapons and teeth, which many may find shocking, offensive, and vulgar, further reflective of her tough early life of being singled out for a family name. She has a deep, resounding hatred for those who judge a book by its cover, and is extremely bothered by sneering traditionalists who seek to disprove her abilities.

Svala has yet to develop a 'soft side' of her personality, as dealing with people disapproving of her had given ill time to develop with a caring and nurturing side. The best she could hope for in herself is an occasional hug to a distant 'friend' or if she was lucky a rather unemotional kiss on tue cheek. What she lacks in caring words, she at least tries to make up for in physical stature, whether something as little as helping someone with their chores or as large as saving a life. Anything to help improve her name, and gain the favor of whoever listens or wishes to listen, offworlder or native Deucalian. Though more likely the former given her reputation.

Despite the quest bestowed on her, Svala tries to keep a positive attitude about her; well, as positive as someone with her childhood could possess. Contrary to popular belief, she does have the ability to smile, and unlike some of her peers is more willing to adopt foreign customs or disguise herself as an outsider, even taking technology like music players (more common with Friscii tech lovers) and allowing herself some sense of enjoyment despite herself.

Some find her don't-mess-with-me attitude undesirable, while others admire her brutal honesty and to-the-point speech, despite her accent issues with Basic, the underlying meaning does still play through. Svala can relatively easily integrate with greater galaxy populace without so much as a second glance--but there is work to be done before she can settle down in any fashion.

LEGACY​

EQUIPMENT​

Deucalian Armor
—MOD
—MOD

Blaster Pistol
—MOD
—AMMO

Vibrosword and Shield

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Bottom art from Dongjin Lee, don't sue me.​

 

[Herrith]

SYLVIE CORSER

AGE

► 21​

SPECIES

► Zeltron​

HEIGHT

► 1.65 meters​

WEIGHT

► 52 kg​

EYE COLOR

► Blue​

HAIR COLOR

► Blue​

HOMEWORLD

► Ord Mantell​

GENDER

► Female​

FACTION

► Imperial Republica​

RANK

► Secretary​

FORCE SENSITIVITY

► Negative​

BIOGRAPHY

Sylvie has lived her life the same since birth. Always partying, always having fun, and always finding new ways to get in with other people. She was born in a wealthy, comfortable family that gave her a decent education and let her do what she wished with her mischief, growing up through the years from street smarts and a whole lot of teen movies. Upon being let loose on the galaxy, she found a 'high' paying job in the Empire--specifically the Imperial Republica. Apart from being a soldier, she acted occasionally as a person brought in to liven up some parties--the likes of which Zeltrons would be needed to fix. Imperial splendour tended to be rather bland and regal. If Sylvie was dragged into a party, it became a party; no longer a ballet dance full of stiff statues doing a miserable excuse of dancing. Because of her charm and lively nature, she was more or less unofficially taken out of a combat role (despite being an able fighter if motivated) and brought into secretary duty or as a Core World guard. Of course, this is hardly satisfying and she yearns for more adventure.

PERSONALITY

An all around pleasant being to be around, she finds herself extremely charismatic and outgoing, as well as supporting to people that find themselves down. She is always willing to pitch in and help out, crack a joke, and take the attention off something embarrassing with something more ridiculous to make her peers feel better. As, it isn't only for their good, but for her well being. With her species being empaths, positive emotions tend to be better for their health than anything else. Despite her intense positivity, Sylvie does find herself at times looking for something more to do, something more worthwhile than just entertainment and positive word-giving, or shopping with friends, or 'convincing' stubborn store owners to ease up their prices or get a pretty penny. Despite her gifts and lack of worry, she finds it difficult to appreciate it all without some meaning behind it. Sylvie is also an able fighter with a couple experiences in firefights, but recently her armor has been collecting dust due to her transfers to less combat-oriented roles that are both boring and, frankly, monotonous. Neither of which are healthy for a Zeltron.

APPEARANCE

To put things very simply, Sylvie has the beauty and wild nature of--what else? A Zeltron. She isn't the tallest, but still maintains with little effort a thin yet muscular frame and active lifestyle. Blue hair and blue eyes--an odd yet vibrant combination offsetting a stunning smile and white teeth that seem to clean themselves. Light rose skin counters the blue, and is also enough to be differentiated from other species within the Empire--like Sith. Luckily enough, she is not Force sensitive.

When not in Imperial garments, Sylvie is found wearing a variety of fashion pieces, but mainly a leather (synth leather) jacket with a tank top, denim pants, combat boots, and sunglasses. She carries around a holster inside her jacket for a vibroknife and a pistol, despite never needing a use for it (yet).

MISC

​

Inventory:

Threads:

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   • Title ― Description ― • Thread Status
   • Title ― Description ― • Thread Status

 

[Herrith]

Imperial Republica.

Astridia Kazaczecho​

Biography​

Astridia's life had been one of hate. She hated her mother when she was shipped off to an Imperial military academy so she could feed her younger sister. She hated the kids that made fun of her accent. She hated herself for not being worthy of staying with her family. She hated the sniveling, snobby order required of her, the teachers and officers that whipped her into shape and cut her natural accent into something more 'Imperial'. She hated that she couldn't feel the sun on her face, was given a bunk the size of a cabinet to sleep on, and the tight uniform she could hardly breathe in.

Oddly enough, she never once hated her sister, the reason for what felt like eternal punishment. Astridia never blamed her sister for that path, the young child that could hardly walk straight, was five years old when Astridia was seven. A part of her wanted to see that kid again. Someday, somewhere. She learned to cope with the Imperial nature of things, learned that the only way to move forward was to bow her head and take a step back. She wanted to find her sister again. But to do that she had to prove her abilities to be let loose.

If it weren't for her early noncompliance with the Imperial order of things, Astridia may have found herself in a higher position within the ranks of the military. She was an excellent soldier and tactician, as well as good at diplomacy and 'diplomacy' when necessary and when called upon. She showed an impeccable exampe of Imperial mannerisms, able to accurately converse with her peers as if from Coruscant's political academies. But it was all an act, a will to find her sister: Alika.

What came next, she wasn't prepared for. She didn't expect finding her younger sister dead in a morgue with Rebel insignia and a lightsaber burn through her chest.

Phys./Ment.​

Few words describe Astridia better than 'committed'. After being left to the Imperial Republica doomed to join the circulation of many others brainwashed by the education system, she stayed determined. Her one goal: find her sister and rejoin her family. Leave it all behind and find a way to live the rest of her days how she wanted to always live it. She learned to integrate, reflect the posh Imperial splendor many higher officers bring about upon their subjects. Impeccable manners to those who she needs to address as such. When there is a goal or something in the way of her goal, she stops at nothing to get to it and where she needs to be. Stellar qualities to many other Imperials.

Determination does not mean recklessness, however--Astridia learned self control early on and possesses an eerily calculating mind to support it. In order to fulfill her goals, such qualities are required, as well as the ability to lie to the faces of people that trust her. Behind a pretty face is someone filled to the brim with commitment that officers view as a devotion to her duty, the Imperial Republica, and her peers. Of course, this is all their own beliefs--she never once says this herself. The most effective masquerade is one formed by the people being fooled.

Like the rest of her family (as far as she knows), Astridia is not Force sensitive, and perhaps for the better. Being without another distraction allows her to think clearly and taught her that deception was not always fair, particularly with people who could very easily read thoughts if they wanted to. She keeps physically and mentally fit in order to be able to establish herself as best as possible as an Imperial golden girl.

All to achieve what she had been trying to reach for 25 of her 28 years alive--being with family.

 

[Herrith]

Like Sister, Like Sister

"I've got nothing left but one route: out."
​

• What is going to happen in your plot? Astridia Kazaczecho is defecting to the Galactic Alliance.
• What other players will be a part of this? TheMorrigan , Braden Drake, etc..
• Where are all the places (if more than one) that your plot will be taking place? Savareen, Corellia
• Please provide a basic in-character timeline of what you expect to happen.
• - Thread 1 () Astrid meets Horus Tempest (TheMorrigan) on Corellia after contacting him, and he helps organize contact to the Alliance.
  - Thread 2 (Dice or self DM) Astrid is sent to a 'safehouse' to meet the Valkyries (Braden Drake or more people). Complications may arise.
• - Thread 3 (Dice or self DM/normal DM) Astrid goes with the Valkyries to get a shuttle ride off-world. Her Imperial squadmates complicate things on the way to the spaceport.
• - Thread 4 (Dice/DM) Astrid gets to the spaceport (through customs and stuff, snobby Imperial officials) and boards a transport to the Outer Rim.
• - Thread 5 () Astrid arrives on Savareen and says her thanks, confirms defection, etc.
• What do you or your character hope to achieve with this plot? What is the "end-game"?
  To defect to the Alliance in hopes of redeeming herself and finding out more about her sister.
• Do you need any involvement of canon NPCs or faction leaders to be DMed by a staff member? If so, please detail who/what and for what purpose.
  No.

 

[Herrith]

Mavie Arkantra

AGE

► 18​

SPECIES

► Human​

HEIGHT

► 1.75 meters​

WEIGHT

► 53 kg​

EYE COLOR

► Blue​

HAIR

► Brown, wavy​

HOMEWORLD

► Hemeldur Aurek​

GENDER

► Female​

FACTION

► Galactic Alliance​

RANK

► Padawan​

FORCE SENSITIVITY

► Positive - In-Training​

BIOGRAPHY

Mavise 'Mavie' Arkantra was born on the utter junk heap known as Hemeldur Aurek ('Melder') a few years ago in some low-income hospital and raised in a relatively livable apartment block. She had a mother who worked in the spaceports as a clerk and receptionist, and a father who ran a candy store a few streets down from their house. As such, much of her young life was, well, where else? The candy store! She got put through a relatively 'healthy', fun-filled life. What she hadn't known was that her father and mother had kept a little secret for a while. She had some special gifts besides freckles and a smile. Up to adolescence, she had no idea...till they finally decided to sit her down and tell her exactly why they had always kept her so close to home. Force sensitivity, something she was warned to never talk to anyone about, much less even think about...or use. So much for fun telekinesis and mind control. Well, that is, till she got picked up by some rather lively people who didn't like the Core too much. And in her adult years, paired with a rather...vibrant woman to say the least.

APPEARANCE

Light brown-blonde wavy hair to her shoulders, blue eyes looking through and surrounded by spatters of freckles over her nose and cheeks. Thin eyebrows often curled into a sassy raise or narrowed on a problem. Thin frame with enough muscle to be considered fit, though more of a running body with the lung capacity and heart strength to match. Heavy exertion causes a heavy flush in her already rosy cheeks.

Normally, Mavie enjoys wearing relatively comfortable clothing, usually baggy or loose clothes that provide freedom of movement depending on the weather. She enjoys the cold and usually dresses light for whatever environment she may be in. Bright colors are her favorite, but muted works fine for when she needs to blend in. Lots of jumping around in fire hydrants and fountains as a kid got her a decent tan without losing relatively youthful, healthy skin. When not in formal robes she wears simple clothes, but likes to dress up if she really needs to.

ATTRIBUTES

Natural Linguist - Being raised in Melder got Mavie's head-gears spinning in more ways than mischief and dreary jobs. Early on in her relatively plain academic career, she showed a knack for pulling apart and understanding languages. As such, new languages and dialects are things she can decode with time and necessary effort. The latter of which is rather difficult to keep up.
Small Frame - Mavie always took pride in her abilities to squirm, scramble, and scurry wherever she needed to get to. Lacking broad shoulders means she's a relatively on-the-go girl who always managed to figuratively outrun a tidal wave rather than break it head-on. Though this has its pros and cons.
Hesitant - Due to the way her parents raised her about Force sensitivity and its many facets of life (mostly talking to her about the negative parts of the power), Mavie has mixed feelings about using her abilities when asked. This proves to be quite the irritant for trainers and can be a detriment to her own safety as well as others'. Bad habits are hard to squash.

PERSONALITY

Bubbly. Snarky. Humorous. Lovably irritating. Just flat-out annoyingly cute. Some of her many descriptions throughout her short life. A smile, an eye roll, a snicker, and the occasional boop on the nose keep her peers on their toes. She's playful, cunning, and doesn't hesitate to crack a joke at others' expense, and sometimes her own. That is, unless Big Bad Jedi Master(s) decides to lay down the law when she's a bit too naughty. Despite all her positives, she suffers from tunnel vision when it comes to focusing on issues, however others have been helping her see the bigger picture through training and lots of work. Sometimes she can get really caught up in issues to near the point of obsession. She shows compassion to those who can click with her in the right way, and is plenty trouble to those who don't. Mavie has always found hesitation of using any kind of Force power or even practicing with them, much to the chagrin of any teachers past.

THREADS/MISC

​

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   • Title ― Description ― • Thread Status
   • Title ― Description ― • Thread Status

Spoiler: GEAR

Daredevil Co. Protective Gear - NO FUNCTIONS
Jedi Armor
Variety of civilian clothes
R5 Blaster Pistol
Vibroknife
Lightsaber; one-handed grip
​

 

[Herrith]

DAREDEVIL CO. PROTECTIVE GEAR​

A proprietary helmet and protective gear system developed by a group of extreme sports enthusiasts and average riders alike, the first line of protective equipment officially was released to the general public after heavy testing. The helmet contains a bullt in HUD allowing for easier navigation and a recorder for when things get rough in the sky. It comes with upper back protection (normally layered into a jacket) and lower leg protection with gription boots for greater stability on swoop akd speeder bikes. The helmet itself comes in a variety of colors, either single colored or two-tone, as well as multiple visor tints depending on user choice that can come issued or aftermarket. The helmet itself is a sleek design that remains streamlined and purpose made to withstand impacts at high speed, which many riders do experience in chaotic cityscapes. The visor opens with the touch of a hand or by manual lifting for ease of visibility or if one just needs to show their face. It is made of relatively durable plasteel-ish polymers that are able to withstand significant kinetic punishment to prevent damage to the rider, and has been efficiently produced and proven safe, making it popular among both veteran and new riders, whether racing, Sunday riding, or evadig cops. Though not exactly combat rated, the helmet, which is all that can really be used in such a situation, is rather able to take blasts of energy for brief and few moments, which some may prefer for some insane reason. However, this is not recommended by the company nor endorsed, though the holonet videos are pretty funny.​

LEGALITY​

Completely legal, especially in more developed systems, and at times required by law to be worn. Safety is most definitely first (mostly).​

INTENT​

For a specific, identifiable piece of equipment for those who enjoy riding on speeder bikes rather than in landspeeders and cars. To also keep you from cracking your melon on hard concrete after trying a barrel roll. It also might be a bit more customizable than others that come out later on.​

ADVANCED TECH​

NO. This is a riding helmet for bikes and swoops, relatively common (among others) throughout the galaxy. It doesn't shoot lasers out of its eyes, I'm afraid.

Type and Coverage

Type: Light

Coverage: (Coverage regions for Light armor is 1-3 regions, Medium is 4-5, Heavy is 6-7)
​

• 
  
  
  • Head: Fully enclosed helmet.
  • Back: Upper back, neck bracing
  • Lower Legs: Shin guards, knee pads, boots

Functions​

Function 1: Scout HUD

• 
  
  • Contains a 4x magnifier and compass

Function 2: Recorder

• 
  
  • The recorder, usually located in the helmet, is a device that records visual audio content for up to an hour. It has to be activated by the user manually for it to begin. It is capable of working with existing HUD systems like advanced zoom (scout HUD) or night vision however as a stand alone function it does not possess any such additional abilities. This recorded data can be transferred to a data storage device or terminal as well after the desired content is captured. A small thumb sized data drive holds the data and can be removed, overwritten or replaced at the disgression of the user.

Function 3: Gription-Boots

• • Gription boots are a catch all term for footwear that contains electromagnets, repulsors, or other tech in the soles and allow for steady movement on ferrous surfaces in microgravity, steep gradients, and even upside down. This functionality must be turned on or off manually by a button or switch.

Function 4: User's Choice

• 
  
  
  • Open.

Function 5: User's Choice

• 
  
  
  • Open.

 

[Herrith]

Reserved.

 

[Herrith]

Reserved.

 

[Herrith]

UNSC Dossier #41231

Faction & Division: UNSCMC/134MEF/5CE/2REG/BCOMP/1PLT/1SQ/FTO

Rank: E-3 LCPL

Callsign: Oscar 1-2; 'Zap'

Name: Jones, Sasha
Race: Human
Age: 27 (excl. cryo time)
Height: 1.77 meters
Weight: 55 kilograms

Physical Characteristics:

Jones is a bit taller than normal for her gender and has a fairly muscular appearance slapped on to broad shoulders, resembling the silhouette of a wrestler. Wavy brown hair is cut short and tied into a ponytail under a helmet from which hazel eyes stare. She possessed relatively tanned skin and a generic Eastern European accent adopted from her time serving on Reach. A prosthetic limb makes up her entire left arm from shoulder to fingertips, with burn scars going from where her arm used to be all the way up the center left of her chest.

Kit:

Jones wears an olive drab-and-dark tan mix of standard issue BDU under body armor that she hasn't been able to replace due to inventory being low. Ranger green-colored combat glasses shield her eyes. Her gloves are cut at the fingertips to aid with ergonomics and her sleeves crawl all over her arms depending on the situation. A large pack clipped to her plate carrier holds explosives and other engineer-related tools.

Loadout:

Jones is kitted with an M392 DMR on her back and an M6C sidearm on her hip. Her vest holds six and two magazines, respectively. Two smoke grenades hang from her vest and a knife is clipped to her right shoulder pauldron. A standalone variant of an underbarrel grenade launcher sits in her pack, as well as a few blocks of C-12 depending on the mission. Several detonator and IED triggers sit under her chest plate for easy access and as a few good luck charms.

Strengths:

• • Handyman: Despite being a demo expert firsthand, Sasha's father worked with cars and engines and gave her a few tips and tricks for getting old rust buckets (and the Corps' diesel-drowned inbred monsters) to working order again.

• • Gung-ho Hero!: Being through the wringer across a variety of fronts forced Sasha to do a lot of messed up stuff with explosives, up to and including blowing up herself with the former platoon CO. She gets the job done, and that takes a bit of grit. She maintains a level head under pressure and will do what she has to in order to win this damned war--even if it would normally be ethically questionable.

Weaknesses:

• 
  
  
  • PTS: After calling 'Broken Arrow' and getting strafed by a few hornets, blown up, and almost friendly-fired along with all of her former squad (and the platoon CO; all KIA), Sasha isn't exactly the same easygoing person she was before. Lazy and funny just the same, sure, but phantom limb syndrome and bad depression catches up to her head even through her nerves.
  • Prosthetical Pains: Jones' prosthetic arm is fairly new to her as she was only cleared for front line duty a month earlier. Phantom limb syndrome still comes back in phases, despite claims by the Docs that it'd fade in the coming weeks. The enhanced strength and dexterity provided may get in her way here and there, despite being an advantage.

Biography:

Sasha Jones was born on Tribute to an automobile mechanic and a stay-at-home mom. Most of her early life consisted of smoke, power tools, the smell of alcohol, and horrid-tasting food rations. The Human-Covenant war was taking its toll on the lower class (which she had been born into) but she managed to live a relatively exciting and healthy early life, helping out around the shop and planting a seed in her 'blowing sh** the hell up' career. Oh, and building stuff, too. That was important.

Soon enough, her father was drafted for the Meat Grinder Marine Corps and she was left to work in it with her mother at the meager age of eighteen, fresh out of high school. Needless to say, their work wasn't nearly as satisfactory as her father's and the small business soon had to shut down. Things only went downhill from there.

Sasha's mother, rather grimly and ironically, died in a car crash due to an engine failure, two years later. Their apartment's rent had been skyrocketing for the past few months, as well as taxes. She could barely pay for a funeral with the funds they had left. Her father wasn't even there to pay his respects. She lived with a friend for a while, until she got 'back on her feet'.

News of her father's death came two weeks later. Her friends were running out of funds, hardly found enough money for food. They had to kick her out, despite certain of the grim situation she would be in. Jones had nowhere else to go but the UNSC.

Boot camp quickly made a Marine out of her on Reach and got her specialized as a combat engineer, despite her excellent ratings as a marksman. Speculations can only assume that she was intending on joining Sniper School, maybe find a way to stay out of the action. Instead, she was tossed right into the grinder. Combat engineers didn't exactly have the longest life expectancy--nor the longest deployments. She was sent to the frontlines not a week after graduation.

It was Hell on Earth. Her first missions consisted of setting up demolition for multiple grounded UNSC vessels. Half her platoon had been wiped by a Wraith and a squad of Elites. Her nickname came in the same assignment, where she had managed to make resourceful use of power lines, generators, and a pool of muddy water to get revenge on their killers. Zap. She got promoted to Lance Corporal as a replacement due to 'outstanding performance in the field'. She got good at it, cooking Covies. The bitterness grew out of her like a weed into sick humor associated with people on the front.

A few months later, a few assignments later, her platoon was in a pickle. Most of the force on the planet Troy had been evacuated, save for a few units lying along a coast. Waiting for help. Squads were getting picked off by the hour, and the Covenant had already begun glassing its far side. Her unit was found late in the evacuation efforts by the aliens. Her platoon leader called 'Broken Arrow' on their location--basically looking for one last blaze of glory. Hornets came inbound and strafed their position, taking out human and Covenant forces alike. The last thing she heard was the whir of a rocket and her left ear ringing.

She woke up in a hospital behind the lines, going through physical rehab to get her fitness back and insisting on being put back on the front despite tests showing signs of post-traumatic stress. They slapped a prosthetic on her and sent her to rejoin her unit, where she is now.
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UEG, UNSC, UNSCDF, UNSCMC, 134th Marine Expeditionary Force, 5th Combat Engineers, 2nd Marine Regiment, Bravo 'B**ch' Company, 1st Platoon, 1st Squad, Fireteam Oscar

SSG Ryan Eastley: Acting CO of 1st Platoon's Engineers, and currently the 'partner in crime' of Sasha. Acts as a mentor and makes sure all the demo rigs are set right so he doesn't blow off her arm like the (now vaporized) last platoon leader did. Resourceful soldiers like her are in relatively short supply in times like these.

EXTRA: I kinda stole this from ya.

 

[Herrith]

Future tech I might want.

Holo-detailing