Look Upon My Works, Ye Mighty!, And Despair.

[ballisticwaffles]

Name: Victoria Gisella Basalt

 

Age: 48

 

 

Born to a undistinguished mercenary captain in the year 1604 in the ex Byzantine city of Constantinople, now Istanbul, Victoria's childhood was one of constant moving. Her father, bless his departed soul, was a relatively unknown mercenary captain of a group of Mercenaries in tumultuous era in Germany's history. It was this fact that caused Victoria to be trained from a young age to be a Halberdier. Primarily fighting in the 30 years war, Victoria grew from the commander's daughter to a formidable warrior in her own right. Her resume grew more and more impressive, with such battles as Wimpfen, the bloody Siege of Magdeburg, and of course the ever eternal Breitenfeld. 

 

That last one should have been the death of her.

 

And it was.

 

Laying with her lungs pierced by a Protestant bullet, what was to be her last view of the mortal world was the bent visage of a metal man, plunging a syringe into her neck.

 

21 years she has been the Captain's vassal. Having been rescued from the mowing fields, she was tasked to build for the captain an archaic army, a division with modern equipment to fight like Victoria had her entire life.

 

Very confusing that metal man. 

[TCPeppyTc]

Hmmm not bad.... Im not a big scholar of German history, but wasnt 1604 during 30 years war?

 

I also know that in 1604, "Germany" as a country did not exist, rather many different states. What state is your character from? Bavaria? Saxony? Prussia?

[ballisticwaffles]

She was from Hannover, that is where the Von Hannover in her last name comes from. And the territory and the ethnicity of the people therein were Germans, even if it was a collection of City states. And no, the 30 years war started in 1618. 

[ballisticwaffles]

Name: Grace Victoria Basalt von Corneria

She goes by Gracia

 

On a routine stop on a space faring people's world, commonly referred to as Corneria, the head of security on a super massive economical tradeship known as the Deus Meus Amat stopped in her usual retirement revelry to gaze down an alley way. In the far back next to some boxes and a vent steaming heat in the winter cold, was a little girl, shivering and shuddering as her and Balsa's eyes locked. She was a small thing, tiny and huddled into a small ball covered in a light dress and coat.

 

When Balsa tries to approach her, she disappears out of sight, leaping with dexterity unapparent in her size over a nearby wall. Piquing Balsa's interest, she attempts to follow the little girl as best she can. The charade continues throughout the day, this little girl taxing Balsa with sheer determination over Balsa's own tremendous skills. But it is late at night as endurance turns the girl into a panting mess as Balsa finally catches up to her in a small out of the way alcove, saying nothing as the little one tears up and shakes her head furiously. It becomes apparent to Balsa that she refuses to speak, and refuses to make so much as a sound.

 

Her reasoning becomes apparent as a fox stalks in and out of the alleyway, sniffing and searching for someone and or thing. He is dressed in casual clothing, suspiciously so, as he overturns garbage cans and sweeps a flashlight in this alley specifically. Her curiosity already having lead her on a city wide chase in its underground, Balsa leaves the alcove and engages the fox in a conversation.

 

"What do you want, human?" The lupine spits as it snarls at Balsa. He goes on to say that he doesn't have time for this as he is looking for something his government is paying him a great deal to find. Balsa's eyes for just a moment shift in the direction of the hidden little girl and the lupine catches it. He moves to push Balsa out of the way to rush the alcove before the little girl can escape. But more than a decade in the service of a tercio has left Balsa with good enough reflexes to stop him and beat him within an inch of his life.

 

Before she can work the rest of her magic on the bleeding Fox, reality itself tearing and sundering in the area. The surfaces of the walls in the alley are now covered in a thick layer of ice. The ground radiates as heat boils off the pavement, Balsa feeling the heat through her boots. And through the simmering of reality as fundamental rules of existence are rewritten for just a moment, a little girl begging her to stop fighting can be heard.

 

She drops the sobbing Lupine on the ground, ascending back up to where the little girl was. All around her the elements seem to be battling for dominance  Veins of ice spread as fast as they can as fire licks and bites at the frozen water. In the middle is the little girl, shivering and sobbing gently as the elements move to her sobs.

 

It takes some crafty talking, but Balsa can extract two things from her before sleep overcomes her tiny form. 

The first was that she was "really sorry" and the Second was that she had lived like this for two years at the least. From as far back as she could remember people were spitting and slapping at her no matter where she went. She was an outcast for reasons her young mind couldn't comprehend, racism and classism so far from her thoughts that the hatred seemed random.

 

Balsa at that moment could hear two more people arriving and talking down below, so she absconded to get real answers.

 

Turns out she didn't have to break nearly as many teeth as she thought. The first thing she heard when she hit the floor was a demand for identity and to "hand over the girl"

 

"The Hell is the matter with you! She is just a child!" Balsa goads, attempting to get the man to reveal more than he should.

 

The Canine spits out that Balsa couldn't understand, and that "the Hybrid is not a child, she is property." He steps forward to bully the tall Redhead into submission, only for Balsa to crack him upside the face and wrap her arm around his neck. Using his body as a shield, she removes the gun from his hip and fires two shots into the chest of the Avian that the Dog brought with him.

 

With the help of the proper application of "i'll kill you dead" and Balsa's patented "gun-in-face" tactic, the whole story is laid out for her.

 

Within a year of Human contact with the Cornerians,attempts were made to make an offspring of the two in a laboratory. In a test tube, scientists played god and in their attempts, a goat and a human's offspring grew. For two years the infant grew, surviving complications from suffering allergies and the expense grew. Soon after the fourth year the funding was cut. All of the sudden Humanity became a hated species in the Lylat system and the program was considered a waste of time. And so she was dumped in the streets, fated to be hated for being a "filthy, wretched hybr"

 

Balsa had the decency to shoot him in the back of the head mid sentence so the little girl listening in above didn't have to hear it. Armed with the full tale, her heart bursting with unknown emotion, Balsa manages to convince the little girl she only wants to help. With sirens in the distance responding to the shots fired and the bystanders screaming at the dead bodies, Balsa scoops up the little girl, who weighed less than one of Balsa's Thighs, and skipped town. The little girl didnt even have a name, so hated was she that she was called by a serial number. 

 

Balsa to this day insists that it was because of her graceful ability to soar through the air that she donned her Grace, but it is still not known why Balsa boarded the ship with the little girl firmly ensconced in her arms.

 

(Continued in Joseph's profile)

[ballisticwaffles]

Joseph Heinrich Hopkins von Brandenburg.

He is "The Captain"

 

There are two things known about Joseph. The first is that his motivations are always unclear. The second is that he works in mysterious ways. 

To the common man, the captain is a far away figure. He is a myth that drives the DeMeA ever onward towards profit, the last say in any argument on the ship and the eternal overlord of everyone on it. It is said that it was he who build the DeMeA, financing it with thousands of small accounts and his own sweat and blood. It is said that once when a regional governor on the ship attempted a coup in response to the changes Victoria brought, he dealt with them so absolutely that the workers in the engine swore they could hear the ship roar as he did.

 

But as irreproachable as the captain may seem, the truth is somewhat sadder.

 

Joseph is lonely.

 

Years ago, when the DeMeA first began its everquest for new markets, the Captain himself would deign every part of the ship with his presence. He would turn cogs with his men, he would toast with them, he would sleep among their ranks. The Captain prized his ability to connect with every single crew member.

 

But it was not to last. As the ship grew, and time past in a flurry, Joseph grew old. His body began to rot, and in his panic and fear of death, he constructed an edifice to contain his mortal shell. With death impatiently checking its watch, Joseph plugs his body into the great ship. One one hand, it was a brilliant move. No longer with the ability to perish, the captain has protected his flock with increasing efficiency. Each of the ships systems are run by artificial intellect, jokingly named HAL. Although destroying the engineering department and causing mass unemployment, the efficiency gained was worth countless of human lives.

 

On the other hand, Joseph cannot remove himself from the bridge without death. He has sat in his chair for countless of years, surrounded by a constant stream of new faces as the bridge of the might ship directs her inhabitants onward. He has found answer with time, constructing drones of increasing humanity to be his eyes and ears, to be him when he cannot be. In occasions of great desperation he has possessed these artifices and they become him and vice versa. But this is dangerous, and only when he is assured not to die can he do this.

 

His authority is absolute, his fist cast in iron. But he is a benevolent dictator, allowing whatever system of organization his vassels wish to keep. Currently it is a merchant republic, where those with enough money and status direct the decisions and the way the government goes. But in the back of all their minds, they keep one fact at all times. They may adjust the sails, but it is Joseph who causes the wind. After all, in response to their irresponsibility it was he who hired Victoria to keep them in line, to prevent them from going mad with money and wasting resources in bids for more and more power. And no matter what document they give for the captain to make into absolute law, there is always one collerary that Joseph puts in.

"I am the captain and my word is law. No matter the contents of this document, my word is the end all. Always."

 

The captain is stir crazy, but well intentioned.

 

So when his personally appointed head of security knocks on his door, and presents to him the shaking and dirty Gracia, it is said that deep in the ship where no one but he is allowed to go, there was a rumbling of acceptance as he let the violent and vulgar women take the young lass in.

 

(Continued in the DeMeA's profile)

[ballisticwaffles]

Name: Duchess Anastasia Ironforge

She is called Trebia.

 

According to the historical archives of the Deus Meus Amat the head of the first and only Duchy was ordained about 2 months after Victoria's tenure began on the almighty godship. It was in response to the riots of the 2nd county after the somewhat draconian laws and organization system went into effect. The Count, a man named lord Byron, couldn't swallow the idea of his corruption disappearing from the DeMeA, so he swallowed his gun instead.

 

Trebia was appointed for a variety of reasons. Even her detractors will list that she is loyal to a fault, refusing to fall to any sort of corruption presented to her. She also is a vary fair lawmaker and judge. Victoria immediately appointed her to the job, assigning her the governorship without so much as a penny to her name. In a merchant republic this is an undeniable foux pass, one that to Trebia mattered little. But due to the circumstances of her new job she had to find a way to get some money without succumbing to corruption.

 

The quickest way, in a mercantile system of running a group of people, to make money was to marry. 

 

Now Trebia isnt a human. On a human dominated starship, this limited her marriage prospects to almost none of the population. But Trebia was a special case. Trebia is a Hellwyrm. A violent race of Reptiloids that live to drink, breed and kill anything that moves. A brutish species on a brutish world, the society is dominated by hulking brutes and no advancement. The older a hellwyrm gets, the larger and stronger it gets. All but the females. The Female Hellwyrm grows to about 4 feet tall then never changes in appearance. Biologically immortal to age, they are the ones that keep society afloat. While female Hellwyrms are able to integrate into non violent society, they are stigmatized for their relation to the males of their race. They are also abused in Hellwyrm society by the uneducated and brutish beasts and the females have to steer a civilization that will crash and burn without them.

 

Trebia was an outcast, an alien, and worst off a pauper. To survive on the DeMeA she would have to get hitched for access to her husband's finances. But to Trebia marriage represented an ultimate sacrifice, to tie herself down to a man who could legally do anything to her, a suicidal action. This was not the case, but for five months out of sheer force of will and stubbornness she kept herself poor and in power, out maneuvering much more wealthy men with simple brain power and tenacity. Trebia had been alive for almost one thousand years on the Hellwyrm homeworld, securing her power and vying for the head of the wealthiest and strongest males. She could deal with a bunch of wealthy aristocrats thank you very much! And without getting a single male near her.

 

Five months by her lone sum, running the government of the 1st duchy with methodical precision that economists look at and salivate, came an insurmountable challenge. A law, past innocently by the captain, required nobles to be married to contain their position. While the book was filled with these personally targeting laws, the captain found no reason to piss of his nobility and thus let the law go. Trebia, by law, had to either submit to the nobles, who looked at her position with barely concealed lust, or marry into one of the families for their money and reward them for their power grubbing.

 

Not one to have something as simple as the law stop her, Trebia turns to her benefactor, Balsa, for some help. 

 

The day that the law came into effect, a long line of messagers awaited Trebia to answer her door, demands clenched in hand for her to abdicate in favor of a married noble. Instead of the three foot, five, thin and lithe scaly hellwyrm, the messagers were greeted by a 6 foot 8 beast of a man, his muscles bulging and tearing at the thin fabric robe he wore. He kindly requests, in a simple barbaric sort of way, to kindly get the hell away from his wife.

 

{Continued in Hud's Profile}

[ballisticwaffles]

Name: Chayrlin

She is Chayrlin.

 

Age: 

 

What else to say about the chamberlain to Victoria? What else to say about the tireless worker to the madwomen who runs the Captain's retinue? What else to say about an Castillian woman old enough to be Victoria's mother?

 

Enough, i suppose.

[ballisticwaffles]

Name: Ian Simson

 

Age:38

 

Species: Gorilla

 

Backround: A culturally enlightened, very pious, and rather gregarious Ape, Ian strides wherever he goes with a poem on his lips and a Cigar clenched within. Owing most of his successes to his massive bulk and his thunderous Gatling Gun, Ian is at the center of an assault with his shields at height and his blood running hot.

[ballisticwaffles]

Name: Drummer
Age: Timeless
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Height: 5'4"
Weight: 130

Weapons: None
Peculiarities: Is married to Calliope. Took the name Drummer because he marched with every army in history playing the Drums.
Current Location: Everywhere and Nowhere.

Bio: By his own volition Drummer has seen and done too much. His real name isn't even hinted at by any of his companions, it is probable that he has forgotten himself. He has said he has gone by a few names, Drummer happens to be the longest lasting. A man with a kind word about everything, a gentle voice that you need to crane your head to hear, and an almost innocent attitude, Drummer is not the most likely man to know what he is doing.

But Drummer has marched with every nation's army on the face of the planet. He is the last Legionnaire, the last Carolean, the Last of the Mongols. He was at Cannae, at Verdun, at Poltava. By his own word at least. He remembers much, more so than he could let on. Even this pesky modern world, with its electronic identification and its Social Security hasn't degraded his skills in war. It would do others well to step lightly around Drummer, he may have played the drums in every nation on the planet, but he has killed many more men than he has played songs.

[ballisticwaffles]

Name: Calliope 
Age: Timeless
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Height: 5'11"
Weight: 100lbs

Weapons:None
Peculiarities: Married to Drummer. Assumed her name because of her unearthly beauty.


Bio: Calliope loves life. She drinks and is merry, she dances and is merry, and loves and was married. She claims herself to be older than Drummer (although not by much, Drummer claims) and has danced herself across the world, enjoying the fruits of the rise and fall of numberless civilizations. Unearthly beautiful, more for her graceful dance and her stature on life, she has attracted the attention of men from the Rise of Rome to the Fall of Byzantium. She has been with men from Civilizations far extinct, spoken languages bedside that no longer have any modern equivalent, and performed on many a stage to inspire many an artist and many a conqueror to ply their trades in earnest. And for what reason?

When asked she giggles and rolls her eyes. "Fun"