Post by Itanecrio on Mar 23, 2010 21:23:05 GMT -5
Name: Phyllo Thasos
Age: 16
Secret Word: this is an application/profile for my alt-character.
Gender: female
Sexuality: Hetero.
Race: Human
Occupation: juvenile, her father is a freighter
Human Physical Description:
Phyllo is blossoming into a striking woman, deeper voiced, almost husky, compared to many of her peers -which could be partly a side-effect of substantial use of the re-breather, which is able to filter and catalytic-convert the Pandoran air to make it breathable for an extended period of time, but containing probably as many pollutants that reach the body as if the user was a heavy smoker.
Leading an active outside life, Phyllo is resultantly more athletic in a sense, more obviously muscular. She accepts this with the same pragmatism as all things.
Standing five and a half feet tall, she looks both her parents eye to eye; her own eyes are a dirty blue, often appearing gray. Her hair is a dark strawberry blond, her eyebrows almost brown. Phyllo's hair is, when not dirt-spattered from motor-riding, something she prides herself about -lustrous and extremely dense, spilling in bangs and locks to her bust.
Phyllo does not tan readily, though she has freckles that darken across her nose and cheek bones, and the back of her shoulders. But her skin is always bright and luminous, perhaps an advantage of the near sauna-like temperature and humidity of outside Pandoran air.
Given the dense and humid atmosphere of Pandora, Phyllo prefers to wear outfits that are based on motor-riding clothes: voluminous trous that appear almost as heavy skirts -preferring shades of bright red or green- with billowing blouses, the only real concession to overt femininity- worn over a workman like black singlet styled re-breather vest, lending a tom-boy pragmatism to her décolletage. She wears a wide and very worn gold-coloured leather belt about her midriff -almost a corset of sorts- and if deemed necessary a liquorice-coloured cropped hide jacket with a hood; and weathered but diligently tended knee-length riding boots.
Notched into her belt are two pistol-style slug-throwers, and such tools as might be needed to make minor repairs to her rider and two spare re-breather vests. Isolated, she has usable re-breath-ability to endure one week at rest. Under stress or carrying out extreme exertion, this might buy her four days in outside Pandoran air.
One hugely unique detail: her family has a strong tradition of tattoos, and her mother is a respected authority and artist in this discipline. Phyllo has had her entire right arm sleeve-tattooed, and both her collar bones in an heirloom motif that has been embellished with each generation.
Personality
Phyllo is a second generation Pandoran-born human, and the associated pride in this regard is a cornerstone of Phyllo's life. Her family's place on the planet -that they were allowed to remain when many were not- means a lot to her, though she knows it has never been easy for her people, as the long list of untimely deaths noted on the family tree can attest. She has memorised every name in the entire family tree, and is something of an -if humorously- accepted authority on the Pandoran families lineages.
Normally it would not be considered proper for the tattoos to be done until a young woman was of consenting age, but Phyllo's character was, and known widely as such, that when she stated she wanted to undergo the procedure, there was no question. The motif she asked to be added was of a seed of the legendary Tree Of Souls.
Phyllo is a fast-blooming beauty and she knows it -readily employing the new-found advantage this has begun to grant her with her doting father, and especially the boys in the community -all of whom she thinks are dutiful, hard-working, and perfectly good looking. Fate has granted her an excellent arena to play out her "golden-youth". This practical application of her good looks is just another example of Phyllo's sense of pragmatism.
Never one to shy away from the mucky jobs, she has always helped her father, an engineer and freighter between the less significant human outposts.
Phyllo is, given her grass-roots heritage, extremely proud to have been accepted into a Pandoran-indigenous Human scholarship for a new-wave Avatar-Programme. An opportunity she won based on her engineering studies.
Her applied studies within the academy are yet to be decided, as she must first ascertain her intellectual and genetic compatibility as a driver.
Phyllo has taken a yoke of responsibility upon her self in light of her possible driver-status; as it is clear that the Pandoran-drivers are intended to become diplomats and traders, rather than researchers and explorers. Since her acceptance, Phyllo's innate pride in being a Pandoran has been greatly increased. She loves the planet of her birth and has taken more and more to her riding, spending all of her hard-earned after school credits on re-breather charges.
Talents:
Phyllo shows a ready-handed and can do pragmatism at all times. She also is capable to handling the pressure that can occasionally fall upon her, as her peers tend to defer to her judgment on matters. This coupled with an innate ability to delegate and manoeuvre -even the shifting concerns of her friends- has strengthened her standing in the community as a "go-to" person worthy of every degree of trust and responsibility.
In terms of studies she has excelled in chemical engineering. Her only concern is what standing this gives her as a hopeful Driver.
Phyllo is an exceptional rider, and has earned the trust of her parents and the rest of the human-community to go riding on the open trails outside of the Outposts defenses. She has learned everything involved in the maintenance and care of her motor-rider and re-breather, and has even earned herself extra credits by couriering small packages between the outposts.
Neither she, nor any of her family have ever seen a Na'vi, nor even an avatar.
Planned weaknesses and conflicts:
It will be interesting to place such a "promising young person" into some dangerous and compromising situations -and Pandora strikes me as a thrilling opportunity to do so.
I see Phyllo being slightly unaware of a certain degree of her own naivety, given the healthy and easy nature of her upbringing. Because she has been so well liked, and so well loved -I eagerly anticipate her shock when she runs into someone that dislikes her, or wants to pull her down. Someone who might mistake her as unduly privileged.
I also see Phyllo being unaware of her relative aloofness and independence, which could again create a situation where she strikes out boldly away from the pack. There is a greater degree of safety in the pack -and I eagerly anticipate writing her reaction at times when she realises she has made herself vulnerable through isolation.
Returning to her aloofness, I don't think Phyllo'd be aware that she does in a sense see herself as outside her friends and family. That she earnestly cares for them all, and does everything in her power to help and support them is not in question -but it might become a shock to her that her energies and sensibilities in regard to people -managing and maneuvering them- is unwelcome, and frowned upon by others than those who love and trust her.
I also see her attracting some jealousies, and envies -given that without any self serving intention she carries herself rather righteously. I eagerly anticipate her shock and consternation when she is confronted with the irrational distaste some might have for her and her demeanor.
I also see Phyllo running into the difficulty of never finding anything hard enough, nor the rewards gained from her efforts resultantly of any great sense of value. As a young and carefree youth it is no difficulty to work towards an exciting (and unknown) future -but when the reality is largely mundane and not nearly as engaging as was hoped, I eagerly anticipate writing Phyllo's reaction.
History:
Phyllos family have been fortunate enough to have a solid base of wealth; being able to own and maintain two airborne freighters, and a fleet of light-armoured land-freighters.
Now living on Pandora for their second generation Phyllo's family have never incurred the wrath of the Na'vi -but this could also be largely due to the fact they deal and trade mainly in the basics of food, water, and air; with grass-roots dealings in engineering, and to a lesser degree new advances in chemical-engineering.
Their engineering enterprise has attracted by far the most growth financially recently, with the recent breakthrough’s in re-breather technology. This simple technology has been available for aeons, but always bulky and impractical for the Pandoran lifestyle. The Thasos re-breather is pliable, like a thick layer of wet-suit fabric, and capable of carrying out the chemical-reaction to provide filtered and breathable oxygen for up to one hundred and sixty-eight hours (at rest). Phyllo has developed her own version of the re-breather that looks like a light black singlet, a garment which provides confidence in re-breathing for up to thirty-six hours. The re-breather recharge is as simple as a lab-conducted chemical soak which re-establishes the equilibrium of chemicals that filter and catalytic-convert the outer Pandoran air into human-usable air.
Their business has not brought them anywhere near hostile lines, nor within the horizon of any of the Na'vi. None of her family have ever seen one of Pandora's aboriginal people, nor even seen an avatar.
With relations between the Na'vi and certain communities of the humans growing more stable, the move is being gently made to begin an avatar-programme with the end-goal of having Pandoran-born avatar-drivers working as traders and diplomats, who do not have any outside ambitions or aims.
Phyllo's father has paid special attention to this programme, and without pushing Phyllo, has made sure she has received every opportunity to become part of this historic initiative.
The Pandoran's of Phyllo's ilk do not want to explore the inner sanctum of the forests, or mine for riches. They want to go on living as they do, and do not want to be driven from their home on Pandora at some point in time because of the actions of others.
They see a need to establish themselves in the minds of the Na'vi as a race apart from those who have come to explore. They just want to live and are content to leave the Na'vi as they are.
It remains unknown if Phyllo will qualify for the driver programme, as there are innumerable obstacles. But it has brought into keen focus how proud Phyllo feels of her people, and of their home on Pandora. If indeed she could ever work to make their place more safe and more certain, she would be duly proud and duty-bound to do so.
RP Sample
A colour dappled shape moved amongst the bulkheads, living flesh a stark contrast to the power-leads and showering sparks of the engineering department. Washed one moment in violent blue light, and the sickly pale yellow afterglow of the laser-planer the young adult walked deliberately, brows drawn together over squinting eyes that seemed to smile nonetheless, light and shadow playing across bared hips, slender arms, bust, and painstakingly performed tattoos encompassing all of one arm and both collar-bones.
A sweeper-drone backed out of her way, the interface panel showing low hazard-zone purple, but with the yellow circle that demanded the authorization of a retinal-scan. taking into hand the mess of her russet locks, she leans over to enable the scan, rewarded with a green-light screen. The sliding armour-glass doors to the hazardous chemical section slide open before her, the ozone mineral tang of the air greeting her senses and putting her bared flesh to the dapple of goose-bumps.
Welcome, Phyllo Thasos. The automaton that organises the security of the department speaks over the comm' system.
Making a face as the still-damp vest slips into place over her bare skin, Phyllo steals a glance about the laboratory -doing her best to shoot a dead-eyed glance at the ordinal leering good naturedly at her. "Growing into a fine young woman Phyllo!" He teased, "Could be more modest but!"
Phyllo shrugs. "You know I'm not the blushing type Calton."
The ordinal nods all too knowingly. "Don't know any other filly that would have her re-breather engineered to show off her bust." He grins. "Good idea that."
"Get out of here you old lecher!" Phyllo gestures less than politely, and returns her attention to preparations.
"You riding out?" Calton drops the act, showing genuine brotherly concern. "Stay safe okay! There was big flooding a way down south, and there's a huge push by the forest into our quadrant. Saplings that shoot up tall as a man in hours they say. That's Eywa for you, when she puts her mind to it, it happens."
Phyllo nods, allowing a grimace. "You don't think the forest wants to move in here do you?"
Calton shrugs. "All I know is that what this planet wants to do, is pointless resisting. I seen it time after time. If the trees come, we got to move, end of story." Calton's attention is caught by a panel of lights before him. "I got to take care of this, it's the new catalyst-rich-solvent you suggested. Been harder to engineer than we thought."
Phyllo resits the urge to look in on the progress. "It'll work, trust me. And don't worry, I won't go anywhere near no saplings. I'm just joy-riding, not couriering today." She watches Calton's hands enviously as they fine-tuned and adjust the calibrations of the mineral-combiner.
The touch of the re-breather face-piece feels like the kiss of cool lips, sealing gently but firmly about her mouth and nose. In a moment Phyllos notes the tubes come to tension, exchanging her breath through complex chemical-reactions taking place within the fabric of the barely-modest black singlet. With a certain sluggishness she walks outside the airlock, or perhaps she is enjoying the touch of the warmth of the outside air, that seems to knead into every muscle, smoothing each indiviual muscle into a greater harmony. Though the headway is high enough to allow a full-grown Na'vi, Phyllo stoops her head, casting shadows over her eyes, but for the glint in them as she surveys The Cob. A rugged patchwork of much-modified and salvaged mechanical pieces that comprise a loosely a horse-shaped personnel-carrier. At the high point in front of the saddle, the device stands as tall as Phyllo's own shoulders. The wheels, the equivalent of hooves at the end of four-point-articulate legs, each a combination of intricate hydraulics and electromagnetic cushioning and propulsion enabling the device to leap over obstacles, and to maneuver every bit as nimbly as its earthen name-sake, the horse.
Phyllo straddles the Cob, reaching down to power-up the generators. Thrumming into activity every panel shifts and reacts to maintain balance, the legs shift from static-position to a ready stance. Phyllo endures the momentary discomfort as Cobs laser-interface seeks contact with her retina's, and finding the authorisation required there, eases into an idling roll. Able to largely steer and control Cob through gestures of her eyes, and through touch-sensors built into reign-like leads Phyllo checks her slug-throwers, the spares for both re-breather and mouth-piece components. Satisfied she trips Cob into a canter, the legs now beginning to shift and move to accommodate the terrain. Phyllo shakes out her hair, looking up at the face of the gas giant of which Pandora was but a tiny moon. Allowing the rush of the outside air to suffuse her she allows herself a moment of hope that one day, not soon for obvious restraints, but soon she might strike out within her own avatar.