Post by Sinn on Feb 7, 2015 7:30:33 GMT
BASICS
Designation : Kestael
Nicknames: Whatever you do, don't let him catch you calling him "pretty-boy" or making trap-jokes.
Gender : Mech
Age : Early twenties
Home Planet : Cybertron
Home City State [ optional ]: Unknown
Faction : Autobot
Occupation : None, at the moment.
Abilities : Teleportation
Ability Description ( optional ) : Kestael's teleportation does not seem to rely on traditional groundbridge technology, as there is no vortex visible upon use, or indeed much of any noise. While he can teleport across entire continents and worlds, his ability is limited by his energy-levels and his ability to visualize his destination. Kestale must have:
-Previously been to his destination.
-Have comitted the destination to memory/be capable of visualizing it.
-Be able to see his destination directly.
Additionally, he cannot teleport multiple times in extremely rapid succession. Even after moving, say, only a few hundred meters, he must allow his internal components to recharge for around roughly a cycle (minute). Larger distances require larger recovery-times and out a greater drain on his stamina.
Moving across a continent would require atleast a megacycle's time to recuperate, and warping to, say, the moon, would require better than a solar cycle (day).
APPEARANCE
Optic ( Eye ) Color : Gold
Primary Paint Color : White (Faceplate, hands, chest, stomach, thighs, back, feet, shoulders and upper arms,)
Secondary Paint Color [ Optional ]: Gold (Helm, lower arms, shins and calves)
Third Color [Optional]: Chrome (Inner framing)
Height: 7 meters (21 feet)
Features:
- Kestael is effeminate in feature, build, and voice, thought not mannerism. He could easily be mistaken for a femme-bot, which is a near-constant bone of contention amongst his family, which has produced mechs and femmes that almost all grew to be massive and extremely powerful warriors for generations beyond memory.
- His helm bears ceremonial prongs similar to those found on Cybertron's more contemporary Primes, albiet longer and more tapered.
Alternative Mode:
fc07.deviantart.net/fs9/i/2006/056/4/1/Pagani_Zonda_R_by_emrehusmen.jpg
ARMOR AND WEAPONRY
Armor
Armor Description:
- Kestael's armor could be said to carry design-elements from both the centurians of ancient Rome and the Ronin of Japan. While Kestael is much slighter in build than either, the combination of sleek, organic, functionality combined with artful and ceremonial design is present in both
- Kestael's armor flexes to match his movement, sacrificing hardness and shear stopping-power for strength, resilience, and flexibility. Best suited for stopping energy-projectiles and blunt weapons, does poorly with stabby things and bullets.
- Resistant to energy weapons.
- Resistant to blunt-impact and slashing
Weaponry
There are a bunch of weapons listed here
Primary Weapon
Description: Kestael lacks traditiona projectile weaponry; his blasters are quite literally housed in the palms of his hands, and can fire rapid salvos of energy-blasts, or large, powerful orbs of plasma and electricity that require charging. Power increases with charge-time.
Secondary Weapon : Homing Cryo Missiles
Description: A multitude of small, extremely hard-to-shake missiles stored in Kestael's forearms. While not particularly powerful individually, he packs loads of them, more than seems reasonable, and they're great at wearing down joints, jamming weapons, and njgh-impossible to shake at short to mid-range.
Other Weapons :
NA
Description : NA
Gadgets :
Molecular scanner, inbuilt linguistic translator, energon-scanner, inbuilt spot-lights.
Melee-Weapons: Lance
Melee Weapon Description (Optional): An extremely long and sharp piercing weapon, great for impaling opponents and piercing heavy armor while keeping enemies at arm's length and blocking heavy blows, not well-suited to parrying rapid blows.
TECH SPECS
Note: This is based off a 1 to 10 scale. One is the lowest, then is the highest.
LIMITED TO 60 POINTS TOTAL.
Strength : 6Intelligence : 8
Dexterity : 10
Speed : 7
Endurance: 5
Firepower : 5
Accuracy: 7
Melee : 5 (excellent with sword, bad with pretty much everything else)
Tech Skill : 7
OTHER
Personality : You can't blame Kestael if he seems a little bit stiff and distant. Fairly used to a near-constnat barrage of barely-veiled critiques and comments on his shortcomings, real and percievex, he generally keeps chit-chat to a near minimum, trying to let his abilities speak for him and impress where his appearance may not. The youngest of a family of warriors, Kestael excels in acrobatics and traditional sword-fighting. He puts his soul into both, and prides himself on his ability to handle both his sword and his body expertly. While he is an excellent fencer and acrobot, he lacks much in actual fighting-ability beyond that.
Off of the battlefield, he is relatively quiet and doesn't participate much in social activities. The exception is when some poor soul gets him worked up or offended. Expect snide comments, a rant, or both.
When others aren't around, he enjoys Earth's semi-unspoiled nature and may simply sit for hours at a time, enjoying the solitude and beauty. That isn't to say he doesn't crave social interaction. Much of Kestael's sensitivity and anti-social traits comes from his childhood and adolescense ; he was not accepted by his family, and he had more in common with his sister than his two brothers. All the same he was a son, and as a result, was forcibly shoe-horned into the role of warrior when he was not really psychologically suited to it. Over the centuries, his relative inferiority in comparison to his siblings and parents has been made extremely clear to him, most often by the above individuals themselves. Gradually, he stopped trying to retain his own identity, and began to desperately attempt to fit the role his family had envisioned for him. He makes up for what he percieves to be "character-flaws" and "shortcomings" with an almost obsessive devotion to the Autobot cause and that of proving himself himself as a warrior. Above all, he lives in the long shadow of his father.
Courage:
8
Charisma :
5
History ( Optional as some like to make it up as they go along ) :
Family ( Optional, some just have none ) :
Father: Gleyer (Autobot warrior-elite and vanguard. Currently fighting on the remains of Cybertron)
Sister: Klaeriel (Autobot medic and surgeon-elite. Serves beside father)
Brothers: Aesr (MIA, possibly captured by Decepticons or dead. Kestael blames himself and so does his father)
Typhesel (Currently fighting on Cybertron, serves under father as unit's first-lieutenant)
Strengths:
-EXTREMELY profficient fencer/swordsman.
-Extremely mobile and capable of dodging attacks, even without teleportation.
-Teleportation.
-Fairly good at being stealthy.
-Genuinely likable and cool when he isn't being moody or dramatic.
Weaknesses :
-Others' perception of him is sometimes marred by his looks and voice. His own above all, not because he dislikes himself, but because others' opinions have become to ingrained in him, he has lost almost all of his ability to calculate self-worth and actually assess himself on standards beyond those of his father.
-Not all that good at fighting without some sort of sword.
-Armor not suited for firefights.
-Not much verbal filter.
SAMPLE RP
The tip of the sword punched through the narrow junction between helm and chest with a matter-of-fact, but suprisingly quiet "Chnchk". Energon founted from the Vehicon's neck only briefly before it began to crumple over. Kestael seized the Decepticon in a rough embrace before it could do so, and it was well he did. Three salvos of blaster-rounds perforated the rapidly dying body-shield. The Vehicon's compatriots had noticed their comrade's defeat, and were wasting absolutely no time in trying to gift Kestael with some new ventilation-ports.
As soon as the onslaught relented, Kestael tossed himself to the side and rolled behind cover energy-bolts singing his finish as he did so. Raising the comm-unit in his wrist to intake-level, he spoke breathlessly, hoping gunfire didn't drown out his words.
"Sector 4 isn't as secure as we thought. There's a full Eradicon squadron out here. I've eliminated two, but the rest of their squad is pissed. Are there any reinforcements in the area....?"
The voice that replied was almost enough to make Kestael jump, which would have resulted in the no-doubt still watching Vehicons blowing the top of his head off.
"You're going to have to make due, and fast. Cerberus Squadron is infiltrating Sec. 7 as we speak, and if you don't take them the frag out, they're going to have TWO squads on their helms once the Decepticons in your area catch wind. Mech up and do your damn job. I trained you well enough; your brother sure as Pit wouldn't cower and call for help like a damned..... civilian..."
There was a brief beat of silence before the comm cut out, and Kestael could almost hear the words, the seven words his father was so fond of reciting, like a mantra, whenever Kestael was less than perfect.
I don't know where I went wrong....
Kestael sat still for perhaps half a minicycle, veins filled with something that perched precariously between shame and rage. The he stood, unleashing a flurry of energy-blasts at the awning the Eradicon shocktroops crouched under, causing the ramshackle overhang to shriek in protest and collapse, momentarily cutting off their line of fire.
It was enough time for him to vault the overturned cargo-metro he'd been crouching behind and drop into a sprint, drawing his sword mid-stride.
He had a job to do.