She stands at an average five feet and four inches tall, with her long and flowing radiant ginger hair cascading behind her head. She is additionally easily recognizable for her pale skin.Her eyes are colored hazel, and her gazes are usually inquisitive or critical in their nature that her wandering eyes alone often irritating the easily irritated. Her body is quite slim, but is quite athletic, and she is in rather stellar shape.
She wears light and durable clothing, and rarely finds herself the time to change. She prefers neutral colors, often grays, browns, and whites, to signify her lack of involvement with any faction or group, but clothing and appearance have never been a significant factor for her.
Phoebe has had the wanderer's itch for years; she can never remain in one place for long. Unknowing if she should attribute this to her personality, upbringing, or simply the manner of the land she lives in, she finds herself drifting from place to place, never staying for more than a month; although she's found her nomadic desires dwindling as of late. To compensate for this specifically, she became a wandering merchant of sorts. This also makes her somewhat indecisive, and when asked to chose between two equally appealing or unappealing options, she would struggle to make a decision. Generally a little careless, she walks down open roads without any worries, finding herself in all kinds of interesting situations with this policy. Even those who put a gun to her head she has sympathy for, and she still struggles to find the will to kill sometimes. Despite this, she never tries to use people; somehow, her empathy for humanity remains intact, perhaps because she treats others the way she'd prefer to be treated. If they are under scrutiny for something she was responsible for, she will make things right, as much as she can. As a wanderer, her words are of little worth to most other people; to that end, she is an introverted and quiet person, having lost most of her desire to talk to others aside from business negotiations. Overall, its not inaccurate to call her a good person, but she is a little modest, and might not approve of such a title. She has immense difficulties opening up to people and sharing her feelings, and has yet to really break down. Deep down, she may really want to settle down and use her talents for the greater good; even she's not sure about it though.
As far as armaments go, Phoebe is the proud owner of an AR-15 rifle and a Glock-17 handgun, backed up by a steel hunting knife, with enough ammunition for a single sustained firefight and little more. She additionally carries a canteen, a first aid kit, and a large, worn out hiking bag with a variety of trinkets and jewelry of value but no utility, Also on her back. a tent with a sleeping bag to boot, with some general personal sanitation and toiletries. Other than that, she usually scavenges or bargains for things she needs.
Due to her wandering nature, she only remembers a few people specifically, all of which are, simply put, unusually long-termed acquaintances; however, as society gets more organized, she finds herself drifting to meet others more and more often,.
STAFF APPROVED ABILITIES/SKILLS/HISTORY
While human in all ways, without any usable ability to speak of aside from a rather impressive tolerance to excessive heat( though hot iron and lava are beyond her limits), her notable power is also a seldom used one, and she's only had it happen to her twice. While not able to understand it herself, as she in unconscious for most of its duration, she can be killed, but rather than slump over lifeless, she explodes into red sparks, which quickly collect together to form a spheroid on the ground. After a few hours, she will rise again from the ashes; a phoenix-like ability. However, the 'egg' is highly vulnerable; if destroyed, she dies with it. It will slowly roll into nearby cracks in the ground or bushes to maintain its safety until she returns; despite this movement, she can remember little in between her death and rebirth, a time which takes around two to three hours.
Phoebe has incredible tolerance to pain, making torturing her a doomed effort. She is also good at making compromises between two sides, due to her experience bargaining with others. She also became quick at drawing her weapon when needed due to a variety of people who have attempted to rob her, and she's a competent shooter as well. Her other skills are simple wilderness survival techniques, and she has spent almost as many nights in a tent as she has in a proper bed.
Phoebe(FEE-bee) Johanna Sheridan was born sixteen years before the events of the Resonance, and has always been a wanderer at heart. At age six, she was bit by a snake in the woods. At age eight, she nearly drowned herself in a creek. At ten, she spent a night in the woods alone. She also became an adept girl scout, and went camping often, enjoying herself in the wilds, while many her age were still frightened by spiders. However, real life knocked on her door, and as schooling took priority, she suffered severely under depression, and finished middle school with abysmal grades and only a few friends. This never seemed to change, and the next few years were terribly dull and lifeless for Phoebe. To cheer her up one day, her kindly grandmother took her out to a jewelry store to get her something nice. However, there was a tremor; she was 16 now, and the effects of the time did not favor them. The very ceiling of the store collapsed; both she, and her beloved grandmother, were killed instantly.
With any other person, her story would end there; yet something had favored her, and the dust that came from her obliterated form soon reassembled, and she emerged, unharmed, from her slumber, looking at the ruins around her in despair. Always resourceful, however, she was able to loot everything that remained, and afterwards was finally able to take stock. The life she knew and hated was gone, and she was left to her own devices in the new world, learning things from strangers and spending the first year looting any dead she found, arming and equipping herself despite her minimal knowledge of firearms. Using her considerable material wealth, she was able to live through the first years in chaos and uncertainty, until a sniper killed her again.
As Phoebe again re-entered the world of the living, she was able to make peace with herself. Too long had she neglected others, and more importantly, herself she set off to use the gifts of her seeming invincibility and traded with others, sometimes even bringing needed supplies to remote locations. She has yet to give her allegiance to a specific faction; yet that is more her fault than theirs, as she leaves after any deeds she does, leaving no time to appreciate or curse her name.
All My Characters
Role Play Sample
(More of a writing sample, but I think it should do the trick)
A ghostly figure approached, his helm automatically undoing itself, revealing a short mustache which was half-metallic. He set a hand on Xia's shoulder, and she turned, startled by the gesture. "There's no need to go on the flight today. I've taken care of everything, and I have an offer." The man said. Xia recognized him instantly; it was Hans Hermann, an agent for the Lunar Republic, and a famous one. His age had begun to show; he was well into his 50s, but the technology has allowed him to remain nimble and effective even in these years. "What might that be?" Xia asked, her heart stopping a second. "The Universal Union is after the Outworlds. Science vessels sent across the galaxy, after the land... I understand you are not on positive terms with them." As Hans predicted, Xia's eyes flared red.
1 month earlier....
"Oh come on, I swear, it's definitely worth your time. You get to see them modify all the animals and have them brought over." The voice was that of Doctor Randall Knight, an excitable older fellow who had grown to be a strong friend of XIa. She rolled her eyes, finally giving in. "The flight's in ten minutes, right? We ought to head aboard." At this time, there was no visible modification to Xia; she was, almost, human in its purest form.
As the two boarded the ship, it was aimed directly at the small station known for its aptitude in genetic modification. While not terribly well-learned as far as this prized skill of the Lunar people goes, she was nevertheless interested in how the prehistoric creatures in the zoo were created and wanted to see for herself; although in all fairness, her friend's eagerness was most of the reason. These stations outside the capital had to be careful with their location, and often anchored themselves to Luna's surface, putting themselves in between the Earth's deadly A-T-S weapons and themselves. Their vessel would skirt the Moon's surface and land there. As the transport swooped from the launch catapult, red lights suddenly flared. The pilot panicked, hurriedly slamming on the controls; but through the glass all of the passengers saw what was coming directly for them; a colossal missile with an armor-piercing warhead. There were screams as it impacted, and after that there was nothing but silence as a civilian vessel quickly salvaged the ship and the crew.
The people who had ransacked the destroyed ship were not concerned with the lives of those on board. Lunar ships and their technology were always easy to sell, even the clothes and modifications to their citizens were worth dissecting entire bodies to some desperate captains. It was among a pile of severely wounded that Xia awoke; the right side of her face had been decimated, and she looked dreadful. She breathed in and out calmly, extracting herself from the gory situation and noticing a bloody surgeon's table nearby. She shook with fury. These people had not even checked to see if she lived. Her own severe pain was meaningless now; the only thing she wanted was to murder these hooligans. She took a large precision burner from the arrangements of tools and slammed open the door. She now thought herself fortunate that her 2 years of military service had occurred so recently.
4 humans in barbaric outfits sat around a communicator, a pile of Lunar technology; some from the insides of her countrymen; was stacked nearby. The only person without a mask had his eyes light up in horror at the sight of the presumed dead person awake. "Whoa, whoa! Keep it easy, we'll... ransom you real cheap. No one would... want someone with that face anyways." He said as he reached for a holstered pistol; yet he was stopped in mid-action suddenly..
There was no sound.
Xia thrust the precision burner directly into the man's center, and sliced directly up from his gut to his throat. He fell forwards as she extracted her makeshift weapon; the other three were reaching for her weapons. Yet her senses were sharp, enhanced; the agent modifications had yet to be removed. She took the disembowled man's weapon and shot the farthest two aways' hands. She then took the one closest and savagely broke his arm and slammed him into the metal floor. Then she walked up to the other two, still having said nothing, and gripped them by their masks and slammed their heads into each other, and they slumped to the cold floor.
She still shook with rage. These were pirates, salvagers, and scum of the galaxy; yet she had better things to do. She went to the cockpit, and radioed the Lunar high command. "This is Agent Xia. Requesting docking permission." She said, and it was then she realized how weakly she spoke. Her wounds claimed her on the trip back; autopilot alone landed her, and she was rushed to an emergency ward.
It took three days to fully repair her human form; her injuries were so severe, and her left eye was replaced. While on the surface, she retained a human form, truly she was more than a quarter synthetic. On the fourth day, she was released; her friend dead, and herself feeling more machine than man. She attributed these events to one entity; the Universal Union.
Hans Hermann smiled at her anger. He pitied the youth; he was well over fifty percent synthetic himself, yet the pains of having this change necessary and not desired were not lost on him. Yet he was not here for pity; he was here to weaponize Xia's anger into a captain in the Lunar Star Hunter division, to harass and cripple the Universal Union's ability to conquer the Outworlds without outright war. Xia's expression told him all he needed to know.(edited)
Later that day, they went to the armory and outfitted her and her ship with the latest in technology. The LSS Talon, as it was named, looked fearsome; In her new uniform, she viewed the vessel with pride. It was armed with dual precision gamma lasers on its wings, and its frontal gun was a ion charger, a smaller version of the gun aboard Wotin's LSS Dame which could disable ships without shield instantly and otherwise obliterate the shield generators. It was incredibly mobile and nimble, requiring little fuel. It was state of the art warship officially under her command. She unsheathed her blade and activated it, viewing the equally terrifying weapon in its entirety; infused with Tiran crystals, it could slice through almost anything; its flat side could knock a raptor unconscious with an electric shock. She then took a moment to verify her wrist laser's functionality; a simple if effective weapon in a pinch, which could wound a target with one shot, and kill with two or three. Her grappling hook was another feature of her wrist, and was ready to fire at any moment.
Then, her Dimorphodon, Atlas, landed on her outstretched hand. It was no ordinary dinosaur; its teeth were armed with cyber additions, and able to withstand considerable punishment to boot. She stroked its head as she finally marched towards the ship. Hans nodded and left, allowing her to get better acquainted with the technological wonder.
Her hands slipped onto the controls, the ship responding effortlessly to her every move. She then took off; from her vantage point she viewed the entirety of the moon and its dozen cities, and the planet of those she disliked most; the planet Earth.
It was then Xia realized that she was missing one thing;