|Occupation:||Heavy Infantry / Pulp Horror Author|
|Rank:||Three Of Spades|
|Current Placement:||ISC Phoenix (2)|
General Appearance and Skin Color: Tall and lanky, but with hugely robust shoulders and over sized hands, Calico is a baroque combination of googly-eyed moeblob and towering war machine. Her torso and head remain that of a youthful, pale-skinned woman with a rather filled-out hourglass shape, but both arms and legs are hugely robust and elongated steenplast autolimbs, navy blue in coloration with an apparent focus on aggressive practicality. You can hear the servo motors churning when she walks, and the fine-control can be a little off, giving her a bit of a clumsy quality. Both feet end in talon-like thin angular treads attached to wildly backward-arced shins, clearly designed for speed over all other considerations. Both shoulders have large bulbous pauldrons to compliment her massive hips, alrough a lot of these armor plates are in fact removable.
Eyes and Facial Features: A face dominated by large, rounded, and notably miss-matched green and blue eyes, commonly ringed in black due to severe lack of sleep and sunlight exposure. She has a small inoffensive nose, set in a soft round face with squishy, mutable cheeks, allowing her to change aspect from cute to sinister on a dime due to her large toothy grin. Thin eyebrows and a large forehead also offset slightly larger than average ears, giving a slightly gawky appearance overall. Wears a pair of rather thick-lensed, grey horn-rimmed glasses.
Hair Color and Style: Extremely long and flowing, straight and pale beige-blonde in coloration. It feels weightless and is also very soft.
Distinguishing Features: Known for wearing pale blue overalls, crop tops with a mess of embedded jewelry, and lots of faux-military wear. Freedom of movement seems to be the focus.
Personality: Defined mostly by being the published author of many incredibly stupid and hammy pulp horror titles, Calico's spooky blank-eyed and doll faced demeanor can be a pretty offputting one. She is just about always smiling, but the things that come out of her mouth can dart between a macabre deadpan snarker material, and the carefree speeches of the eternal optimist, within the space of one sentence. Despite being constantly cheery to the point of appearing a bit air headed, and outwardly remaining very friendly regardless of the situation, she seems to view everything through lens of an interestingly grim twist of fate, bringing up the worst possible outcomes of any situation, as if the fun experience gained would always be worth it. Many elements of her personality are also pretty childish, such as their garish aesthetic sense and inability to communicate complex ideas or emotions, but on the other hand, they are also not afraid of hard work, and can be pretty resourceful on their own even if they don't act it.
All of this, of course, is made all the stranger by the fact that she is a six and a half foot tall cyborg who specializes is cutting up the enemy point blank. When not being bookish, her demented and upbeat persona definitely seems to enjoy causing immense carnage, just as much as sitting back and watching it. The two main emotional states could thus be described as smiling, and smiling too much. It's kind of unknown if she has a 'bad side' since it would look and sound almost identical, which can also kind of make her attempts at sympathy come across as cold and computer like, but it's really all just a symptom of the fact that she is actually pretty socially isolated, and doesn't really understand how most other people think, despite the fact she genuinely means well.
Lucia Strent (Mother) Bartholomew Strent (Father)
Born with in YE 16 in Funky City, on Planet Nepleslia. Her father was an upper middle class manufacturing supervisor, very traditional with strong world views on how the world ought to be, stay-at-home wife and all. Pretty pretentious, a bit stifling, but not abusive. Basically a pretty standard family life. Calico was mostly kept protected from the outside world, allowed to dream of becoming some ten foot cyborg super-hero, but only under the auspices that her parents expected she'd grow out of it and it would never actually happen. They weren't rich enough to move into the spires, but had just enough social mobility to completely avoid the effects of both the wars with the Mishuvurthyar.
It did not, unfortunately, save her from the fate that genetics had in store for her all along. Diagnosed at the age of eight, an immune-system based illness known as SDS (Synaptic Degeneration Syndrome) slowly began to take over her body, pushing her further into isolation, and eventually complete hospitalization. Most people succumbed to limb atrophy and lost of vision within a few years, and Calico's parents were not nearly wealthy enough to afford the rare as hen's teeth drugs drugs to counteract this.
They put on a brave face, but visits from her parents still got rarer. Time was filled with writing short stories, that got more obscure and demented as time went by. It was perfectly possible they thought she was going insane, only, it turns out, these child-like bizarre ramblings somehow had an audience. Despite being wheelchair bound and half blind by the time she was seventeen, that iron-willed resolution and strangely personable attitude managed, against all odds, to get her published. A third-rate nobody, perhaps, but one who managed to find many edgy teens and tongue-in-cheek reviewers who found her work strangely amusing.
The best selling e-books from this period included gloriously pulpy horror meanderings as “War of the slugs”, “Invasion of the brain lobsters”, and “Vengeance of the mecha-ghosts”. The proceeds of which all went to funding another little secret project which was only talked about in cryptic puns, and through maniacal giggling…
Twenty years old and having bided her time and money, Calico didn't just walk out the front door, but strided out as an imposing metal ninja. A full-body cyborgisation. Dreams of exploring the galaxy as a unfathomably strong she-tyrant mercenary, made manifest. She started using her pseudonym, Monoceros, instead of her real name. Nothing as traumatic as disowning her family occurred, but… Yeah, they would continue to remain a bit perturbed over the whole thing for quite some time.
Next four years were pretty much spent making loose change here and there, mostly getting her ass handed to her, due to a complete lack of formal training. But with an income supported by more and more incomprehensibly silly slasher stories, and time to get her act together, things slowly improved by trail and error more than anything else. People found her scary now, she realized, and that was all Calico really needed to stay motivated and consistently inspired. Moreover, just standing out in the crowd really did her book sales good, and gave her a place to crash with members of her cult following when going through particularly rough patches. They didn't really need to know how broke she really was. Even her father started to warm up to the idea of her standing on her own two feet, occasionally lending her some cash to keep her head out of the gutter if nothing else. The application to join the Phoenix Service Group, and later the crew of the ISC Phoenix itself, was always intended to be just as much a fun experience as it was a calculated effort to improve her lifestyle. Their myriad and traumatic adventures came across like adventure novels in themselves, so where better to harvest more ideas for her chosen art?
Calico is well-read on firearms and bladed weapon terminology, so technically knows how to use almost anything she'd realistically be able to lay her mitts on, but is also sorely lacking skill in several large areas, mostly to do with lack of experience. She compensates for her inability to aim properly by using her cyber-limbs to carry the largest weapons possible, often one-handing a heavy machine gun and firing it as such, relying on quantity over quality. It can actually be next to impossible to reload small weapons like pistols due to the size of her hands, but she can normally fire them. Her frame is also rated to fire power armor weapons braced or at least laying down, but neither scenario is going to improve her aim. She's at her most deadly with a long bladed weapon, where her speed, reach and utter strength make her quite formidable to anyone who is not similarly modified or wearing heavier gear.
A durandium, steenplast, and stainless steel construction make her extremely robust. The hybrid servo-motor and memory metal driven power-limbs give her a huge resource of boundless energy, that can propel her to speeds of 40-50mph in a straight line, and absorb the impact of a crash from pretty much that speed. Agility can be problematic, in that she now weighs so much that it becomes difficult to change direction once she gets going, but she is practiced enough to perform front-flips, and even complex mid-air spinning attacks given room to build up speed. Standing still, a punch or kick from her is still enough to crumple a car door or shatter a pavement tile.
Her spine, ribs and skull have also been reinforced with stainless steel brackets to specifically to withstand the inertia, and there is a barcode tattoo on her central upper chest that can procedurally generate her internal structure on any medical scanner, should she be rendered unconscious or otherwise incapacitated. Her left eye, the blue one, is fake, but possesses no extra abilities other than looking organic, making her overall eyesight actually a little poor. Aside from her lack of actual experience and relatively short attention span, this is the reason why she prefers to focus on speed, explosives, blades and automatic weapons over anything that requires fine aiming or a careful ambush setup. As mentioned before, her limbs are designed for power and not fine articulation, anyways, which makes her a bit too clumsy at low speeds for anything too in-depth and practiced.
Purely to avoid loosing teeth in fights (or accidents), she also has ordinary metal braces fitted.
Has a pretty innate knowledge of Nepleslian books, pop culture and a little music. Yamatain and Elysian counterparts can be a little rough in her head, but she's more exposed than most. Obviously, this has a bit of a bias towards the violent or grotesque, given her personal interests, but many stray facts from crime fiction can come in useful as well. Without beating around the bush too much, her own works vary massively in quality seeing as she seems to attempt publishing anything and everything which hits the paper, revealing an inner psyche which refuses to stay in one place and dwell on past mistakes.
Perhaps her only particularly acclaimed work, number 18 on the Nepleslian bestsellers list YE37, is the Sci/Fantasy epic “Relic Armor”, which involves battle tanks fueled by demon blood, which are then used to combat said demons.
|“Harrison growled as the machine churned into life again, its archaic gearbox groaning under the strain of forces no mere material object was meant to contain. The white robes of the techxorcist billowed backwards even as he lit his brass censer, the pure liquefied evil of the fuel tanks actively refusing to be mechanically pumped into the holy water boiler. 'Traverse, foul being, I command you!' His rasping voice hollered over the shambling screech of the tank's tracks juddering slightly, crunching several skulls within the endless field which lay strewn about the exterior. 'Comply, or I will follow you to the very depths of the darkness to vanquish your foul spirit! In the name of his majesty king Ulrik the all-seeing!' Diabolic chattering, combined with the overbearing clunk of the engine finally throwing itself back into gear. Sparks shot out of the turret ring as it finally brought the holy cannon in alignment with the repugnant enemy. 'Today will be a wonderful day!' Harrison grinned, as the gunner's shock and horror towards the grizzled multi-eyed visage of their horrific foe became apparent. 'Today no one of these foul things shall escape our righteous judgement!'” – Relic Armor, Chapter Four|
She's pretty imaginative when coming up with new plans of action, through that doesn't always translate to them being realistic. The outward effect is that she can be very hard to predict, constantly taking non-sequitur actions, but Calico is also better at lying and making up new backstories for herself than most. The fact that she is an author herself doesn't actually mean much in terms of entitlement and fans, since… Well, most serious critics regard them as expensive toilet roll. But that does serve the purpose of her either swooning or intimidating others, without them knowing who she is, rather well.
She constantly writes about horrible things happening, so it's only natural she's done quite a bit of unsavory research over the years. Calico can have a little trouble with the concept behind Occam's razor, but is able to identify and categorize things like blood splatters and weapon blast markings more than you might think. When she's really interested and enthralled in the act of investigation, and the act was somewhat recent, it becomes a sort of bloodhound-like affair where she becomes obsessed with following the tracks.
Pretty much just knows the basics of how to keep her body working, not a massive amount more. Could be useful if working with similar war robot parts, and she could certainly make an adequate technical assistant given her strength, but definitely not able to repair (or even drive) a vehicle of any kind.
Speaks mostly Trade, but knows a few basic phrases in other languages like Yamataigo. Pretty up to date with using modern communication systems, but more because of attempts to distribute her work on public networks than military affairs. She could wrap her head around a few things with direct instruction, but asking her to organize anything herself is too much.
Calico has the following items:
Calico is currently a 3 of spades on board the ISC Phoenix.
|3000 KS||Starting Funds|
|1000 KS||-2000 KS||Weapons, clothes, cyborgy bits, and general trinkets.|