START to open menu. [Character Info]
Mar. 12th, 2017 03:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
panaceaaName: ???
Title: The Guardian
Age: ??? (Adult)
Gender: Nonbinary
Pronouns: He/him or they/them. Feel free to mix it up.
Species: Blue-skin
Height: 6 ft 2 in
Eyes: White, but reflective, much like a cat's.
General Appearance:
Guardian is tall of stature and stocky of build. They're always wearing their layered drifter's outfit, never without their helmet nearby and their pink cloak on, but even without these things they're still very large. Their hair is an ashy gray, short and constantly messy from being subjected to their helmet most hours of the day, and when the rest of their face isn't cast into shadow, the lines etched under their eyes are almost painfully prominent; this is someone who doesn't get much sleep.
Weapons:
- Red sword made of hard-phase light.
- One pistol and one rifle with ammo fueled by kinetic energy.
Abilities:
- Tech plates built into Guardian's boots allow him to drift over gaps spanning 3 feet or less.
Misc:
- Guardian speaks in a manner that's very frank and precise, as well as seldomly.
- They care a lot more than they let on, even though they try not to. If you can get them to show a Genuine Emotion then you've done a good job of cracking them open.
- Because of their race, they're unlikely to take off their helmet around someone who isn't also a blue or who they know they can trust.
- "Will to live"? "Self-preservation" ?? Never heard of it.
History:
Drifters are known for being wanderers. Nomads, traveling alone in pursuit of knowledge lost to most others; it's what most would call an "occupational hazard", as if the world wasn't already filled with too many to count.
Guardian had a family, once.
That was a long time ago; before their wife and child had fallen prey to the illness ravaging the torn continent, before Guardian had mourned them until they couldn't anymore. Before they'd fallen sick, too. Before god gave them something new to live for.
Title: The Guardian
Age: ??? (Adult)
Gender: Nonbinary
Pronouns: He/him or they/them. Feel free to mix it up.
Species: Blue-skin
Height: 6 ft 2 in
Eyes: White, but reflective, much like a cat's.
General Appearance:
Guardian is tall of stature and stocky of build. They're always wearing their layered drifter's outfit, never without their helmet nearby and their pink cloak on, but even without these things they're still very large. Their hair is an ashy gray, short and constantly messy from being subjected to their helmet most hours of the day, and when the rest of their face isn't cast into shadow, the lines etched under their eyes are almost painfully prominent; this is someone who doesn't get much sleep.
Weapons:
- Red sword made of hard-phase light.
- One pistol and one rifle with ammo fueled by kinetic energy.
Abilities:
- Tech plates built into Guardian's boots allow him to drift over gaps spanning 3 feet or less.
Misc:
- Guardian speaks in a manner that's very frank and precise, as well as seldomly.
- They care a lot more than they let on, even though they try not to. If you can get them to show a Genuine Emotion then you've done a good job of cracking them open.
- Because of their race, they're unlikely to take off their helmet around someone who isn't also a blue or who they know they can trust.
- "Will to live"? "Self-preservation" ?? Never heard of it.
History:
Drifters are known for being wanderers. Nomads, traveling alone in pursuit of knowledge lost to most others; it's what most would call an "occupational hazard", as if the world wasn't already filled with too many to count.
Guardian had a family, once.
That was a long time ago; before their wife and child had fallen prey to the illness ravaging the torn continent, before Guardian had mourned them until they couldn't anymore. Before they'd fallen sick, too. Before god gave them something new to live for.
With nothing else left for them, Guardian now spends their days patrolling the zones around Central Town, searching for clues to the modules that hold the key to their mission. It's slow going. The fact that they feel obligated to stop to help anyone and everyone in need definitely doesn't help, either.
But the sickness stops for no one. And they can feel it spreading.
Time is running out.
