The Cast of Bordertown
|Adrian Smith , as a Principle Author|
Full Name: Adrian Smith
Aliases or Nicknames: Chief, 'Dre' (only Rene calls him that)
Home planet: Beaumonde
Occupation: First Officer, Security Chief, Master-at-Arms
Appearance: Adrian's a fairly nondescript sort, with brown hair and a lean, muscular build. He stands at about 5'10" and weighs maybe 185 or so. He's got intense stormy gray eyes, which definitely have the capability to make a body squirm when leveled at a body. He keeps his beard and mustache trimmed reasonably close and neat and presents a generally well kept appearance though he certainly doesn't spend any time on it and his hair tends to be a little long, because he doesn’t care to spend the time on getting it cut often.
He moves with quiet composure and dresses in neat serviceable wear with little variety and no adornment.
Personality: Adrian's patient in a way that most folks never see. He's capable of sitting stock still for hours watching through a rifle scope, troubleshooting a firing circuit or waiting for stitches without a bit of complaint or small-talk. The word 'soulless' has been used to describe him by at least one person, but the truth of the matter is Adrian simply doesn't care to share a lot of his thoughts and feelings. He doesn't like people making assumptions about them either though.
He's stoic to a fault, rarely smiling and never lets his feelings touch his face if he can help it. He often comes across as cold and unfeeling and yet his actions would indicate anything but that. His voice is only ever raised to overcome noise, and his strongest messages are usually sent with that look.
Adrian is a professional. His job is done as closely to perfection as he can manage at all times. He has high standards for the crew under him, but the most stringent demands are always placed upon himself.
History: Adrian was born to Thomas Smith and his wife Kiya, who own and operate a junkyard on Beaumonde where a body can get just about anything to fix or replace just about anything.
When he was 16 his father worked out an arrangement for Adrian to work on board Zirondelle to "get a feel for real work" where he met and became close friends with Rene Cariveau. Adrian worked on Zirondelle until his 18th birthday when he signed up with the Independents to fight in the War. Adrian displayed an uncanny aptitude for marksmanship and was given his unit's scouting and sharpshooting detail in short order.
Adrian found it important to understand the tools of his new trade and so began an in-depth study of firearms which continues to this day, eventually crafting his own rifle to replace the one he'd been issued; the 'HoG'.
Back in '09 Adrian and his unit were pinned in a bad spot and Rene Cariveau brought the Zirondelle in to extract them despite having to dump a goodly portion of his cargo. It put the Zirondelle in a precarious position and earned Rene quite a tongue lashing from his old man but Adrian never forgot
Adrian was promoted to Chief Petty Officer and was Master at Arms for his unit the "Dogs of War" by the time of the Independent defeat at Serenity Valley. His crew just called him Chief.
There weren't many left of them by the end.
After the war Adrian spent some time at home, then went out and worked on various ships as security he could have made a lot more as a merc but employers don't care much for Merc's who ask questions before shooting. He actually ran into Rene about a year ago working aboard the Shaharazad. Rene had been doing much the same as he, taking work where ever he could get it and the two got to catch up a bit and share some stories before going off in different directions again.
When the 'wave from Rene came Adrian was in the midst of hunting up another job, after having just completed a bit private contracting. (See: Adrian's Side Job)
Adrian was happy to accept the offer and much to Rene's relief, was already on Hera.
Full Name: Celine Dupris
Born in Bordertown on Hera , never been anywhere else.
Age: 37 Ginger hair, green eyes, generous proportions.
Owner, Proprietor and chief chef of Celine's Haven.
Celine's Haven is both an eatery and a Hostel. Four meals served daily, although breakfast is later on Sundays to allow Shepherd Killean to refresh himself after his sermon.
Celine allows no firearms in the Haven, and serves no alcohol. This is due to an agreement with the local saloons.
Generally a happy soul; things have to be seriously bad to bring a grim look to that cheerful face. Celine makes it a point to get along with everyone, although some note her smile might just be the teeniest bit gentler when directed at the back of one of the local Shepherds.
|Damon , as a Principle Author|
Full Name: Damon Weiler
Home planet: Ariel
Occupation: Mechanic, extra gun
Appearance: Standing 5' 10", Damon has never been one to stand out in a crowd, except maybe a crowd of fancy Core-folk. He has next to no fat on him, but is well built, strong and healthy. He has dark brown eyes that look black in poor lighting - his single Cajun trait. His brown hair is usually unkempt, and he may or may not decide to shave on any given day. Most days he'll be seen wearing the same slept-in clothes as the day before. While on the job, his long-sleeved shirts, cargo pants and fingerless gloves will be covered in engine grease and oil smudges. He has some small, faded scars on his face and hands, though they're not immediately apparent and seem pretty typical for an experienced mechanic who's had his share of scrapes.
Personality: Damon doesn't like to cause waves and will do his best to get along with everyone, even if that means silently tolerating people he doesn't like. He's defensive and somewhat standoffish, in a wary, at-arm's-distance kind of way. "Friendly" has begun to reemerge in his demeanor since Bernardo died, and once someone's gained his trust, he is loyal to a fault. He tends to stay busy even during his free time, and will eat anything remotely edible.
History: Damon spent a year and a half working for Bernardo on board the Zirondelle as mechanic before Rene Cariveau showed up to take over. Anyone who knows anything about Bernardo probably doesn't have to ask about the kind of crap Damon put up with before the crazy Cajun tried to kill them both. Those who ask why in the Verse Damon stayed as long as he did always get the same simple answer "I needed the coin."
Joffrey Merlin Parker
6’ 3”, 180 lbs Hair: Ash Brown worn eyelash length except for a 48-inch braided queue that hangs down from the top of his neck. Eyes: Vivid deep blue Age: 27
Planet of Origin: Legally none, born between planets.
Description: Almost so completely average as to fade from the memory as soon as the eye is taken off of him. Voice is lower than one would expect and drops further into a bass register when he allows himself to display, or is surprised into showing that he is angry or upset. What accent he has is rather British.
Known History: Ship he was raised on lost exploring, along with his pilot mother, while he was planet-bound for educational certification. Father unknown. Crewed and deadheaded on a variety of ships all of his life. Schooling has been limited to tutoring and self-taught on computer access, but he is by no means either stupid or ignorant. He has had a lot of time to study a variety of things.
He has been both suspected of and arrested for various acts of theft and Con-running. He is an accomplished 'scrounger'. Not much of a mechanic but can hold a light. Due to both his (partially unknown) parentage, and the fact that the Wandering Star where he was born and grew up transported a traveling carnivale during much of his growing years, he is a skilled knife-thrower, acrobat and juggler. He has a respect for and a belief in psychic phenomenon, which can make him a potential mark, although he can and has spotted fakes.
He piloted the transport vessel Oberon for a couple years, and the reason for his leaving is neither clear, nor discussed.
Joff has spent many years on ships, in space ports and around docks. Knows these places like the back of his own hand. Can make connections anywhere for what is needed, but also occasionally runs into trouble precisely because he has been almost everywhere once before. Get him out of his element and he is a mark ...
He has spent less than four years total of his entire life, on planets under real gravity. While not phobic about it, planets are not his element, and there are ... plants and dirt, and germs ... He far prefers ships and stations to raw nature.
Quote: I fly - therefore I am. Justify yourself ..."
|Killean Laing |
Aliases or Nicknames: Shepherd
Full Name: Killean James Garreth Laing
Home planet: Born: Salisbury, Raised: Bellephoron, Redstone Monastery
Occupation: Shepherd, Redstone Protestant affiliation, or as Killean puts it, "A Shepherd of a different color", ordained and serving at Sanctuary and part-time handyman in Bordertown.
Appearance: At 6'3", travel in the black can get pretty interesting when most door frames are designed at six feet and under. Killean's clothing is basic and nondescript, since shepherds generally don't have the income for fancy fits. His height is usually what keeps him from blending in nicely at most backwater docks, so he saves the traditional Shepherd's outfit for Sundays. Killean's hands are square and scarred from his early life as a fisherman and his frame is average for his height and fit. He keeps his hair shorter as a useless means , lets his beard grow during the week, going clean shaven on Sundays, and from behind those silver-rimmed glasses, his crystal blue eyes are often very direct and deeply observant.
Personality: Killean is generally calm and approachable, with a pretty dry sense of humor and an easy way with the Word. He does have a temper; push him hard enough, and he will follow the rules for "an eye for an eye" to a certain degree, but he has to be pushed pretty hard, or consider the situation exceedingly critical for that to happen. When he is, he has enough basic fight training, backed by the strength of a longshoreman to hold his own. Although he does know how to use the Chinese dagger for more than gutting fish, he has never used it to kill.
Background: Back in the days when the Independent Movement was a shiny venture to provide the free-minded with its own governing body, eleven year-old Killean went to stay with his Uncle Brian at the Redstone Foundationist Order and Monastery on Bellerophon. Killean was only supposed to be there over the summer, but as the Movement advanced, his parents weren’t able to return until his seventeenth birthday, six years later. He didn’t see them again until after the war, and then it was only their images included on an execution list of Independent conspirators accused of war crimes.
Can he/she cook? You should try my pan-seared fish sometime. I bake the communion bread myself at Celine's and cook for her once a week in return. I don't have to bake much, though. You'd be surprised how many sweets turn up once the local women-folk find out you're available and sworn to a vow of celibacy only prior to marriage.
”Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is - His good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans 12:2. Gotta love a bit of the word that starts with do not conform."
Aliases or Nicknames: Among Bordertown's residents she is affectionately referred to as Magpie for her fascination with the ‘shiny things' of the past.
Full Name: Meiling Acacia Mah. Her first and middle name are the result of two separate family traditions. The name Meiling was taken from her maternal grandmother and has been in the family for generations. As is the custom with girls in her family, her middle is name is based on that of a flower; it is something of a family jest that Acacia translates into ‘Thorny tree'. Mah, rather appropriately, is a Chinese word for horse.
Home planet: Hera. More specifically, she is a Bordertown resident.
Occupation: Jewelry collector and seller.
Appearance: Meiling is a short woman, standing at an even five feet, who compensates by wearing incredibly high heeled shoes. It is something of a Bordertown mystery how she manages to stay upright while moving around as briskly as she does. Meiling may be unassuming with her carefully pinned back dark hair and coffee complexion, but she is definitely not forgettable. For those who take the time to glance down, a reward almost always awaits in the form of a playful smile and laughing brown eyes. When she is conducting business she does so with an intensity of focus and a smartness of dress that is riveting. The rest of the time, though, her socks don't always match and a few strands of her hair always manage to come loose.
Personality: In Bordertown, the village in which she was born and raised, Meiling is viewed as a curiosity in her own right for being one of the few residents not directly involved with agriculture. Meiling makes her living buying and selling jewelry, but she is also a collector of stories and oddities in her leisure time. Her home is decorated with her personal finds, which range from slightly water-damaged works of art to quaint stuffed animals. More often than not she can be found waiting outside of Celine's Haven hoping to buy a story with the price of a meal. Meiling is nothing if not an attentive audience; she listens to even the most exaggerated of tales with focused eyes and an encouraging grin. Meiling is said to be incapable of uttering a cruel word; when asked for advice or insight she replies thoughtfully and compassionately.
It is a shock, therefore, to those who know her well when they discover the business side of Meiling's personality. When she is in pursuit of an antique, Meiling is a coldblooded and calculating individual. Once a piece has taken her fancy, or that of one of her clients, she will not be deterred in her pursuit of it. Those who come into contact with her as a businesswoman are often overwhelmed by the sheer force of her stubbornness; in bargaining, she is aided immensely by how exhausting arguing with her can be. While Meiling never sets out to strike a lopsided bargain she takes it as a matter of personal affront when she is asked to pay more than an object is worth. She is a woman who knows the value of a gemstone on sight and who will resort to the stick when the carrot provides insufficient motivation to the seller to part with it.
History: As with the majority of Bordertown's residents, Meiling's roots extend to the town's founding in 2319. Specifically, Meiling is the descendant of a line of successful horse breeders; with each generation, the Mah family wealth has grown alongside the reputation of their horses. One of the most decorated race horses in contests both on and off Hera is the product of the Mah family stables; Meiling's father is currently in the process of raising that particular stallion's offspring. As a consequence, Meiling had a privileged upbringing by the standards of the Rim. Even so, she is prouder of her simpler roots than of her family's present prestige; her pride in her heritage serves her well when she is faced with those of the Core worlds who would label her a rustic or a provincial.
Meiling, however, has found a niche for herself outside of her family's more traditional enterprise. What began as a project funded by her indulgent father, has become a self-sustaining jewelry business with a network of clients spanning the ‘verse. Most of Meiling's initial contracts were with her father's affluent business partners, but she has since acquired contacts based on word of mouth. What attracts customers to Meiling is her keen eye for originals and her good taste in selecting them; Meiling understands the importance of selecting pieces that are beautiful in addition to being merely historic. Some of her most important, and jealously guarded contracts, are with the Companion Guild who routinely come to her with requests for unusual and elaborate pieces. Another part of Meiling's appeal resides in her willingness to travel to her clients, however remote they may be. Perhaps most importantly, Meiling has an almost magical ability to coax jewelry from the hands of even the most tight-fisted owners.
Can he/she cook? No. Of course, Meiling cannot conceive of a situation in which she would be required to do so.
"You do not understand. I must have it and I will."
|Mickey , as a Principle Author|
Full Name: Micheal Emrys Garreth.
Nickname: Tou - Cajun for Tiny. But only Rene calls him that.
The entire name is Gaelic and mostly so are Mickey’s roots although there is an underlying Gypsy strain as well. His folk…wander. His full name means, Who is like God? (Implication, no one), Immortal and Gentle. The spelling of his first name is not a typo, but a Gaelic variant.
Home planet: Salisbury, although he is not so much from Salisbury as born there.
Occupation: Mickey understands loads like he understands numbers. He has a gift for balancing. And he’s always been big. In his teens he started out wrangling cargo, eventually qualifying with enough time served to buck for full Cargo Master. At the same time he taught himself Ships Bookkeeping and took courses for Quartermaster Arts. He is currently a fully qualified Bookkeeper and Cargo master and has earned the Quartermaster title that goes along with both. For the last eight years, he has served half a dozen ships as Quartermaster.
Appearance: Height 6’ 2”, big boned with large hands, weight 190 lb, Brown hair, green eyes. Has a long scar on his back that runs from his left shoulder blade to his right hip where someone once tried to open him up with a knife in a disagreement over a failed trade agreement. Although he tries to keep fit, he is just beginning to grow love handles.
Personality: Quiet, gentle and soft spoken. He likes people and good conversation that can accompany his hobby. Slow to take offense it is however, not a really good idea to poke the bear until it gets angry. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry. Somewhat shy around women but not dumbstruck.
History: Made a name for himself in his younger years, pit fighting for money but not death matches, nor armed matches. Hand to hand only, mostly local men looking to supplement their income. Stopped suddenly and without explanation when he was 25. As his parents were working ships crews, Mickey never has spent too much time on planets and appreciates the chance when it comes. To be able to walk around…outside…is always an adventure for him. Childhood education supplemented in adulthood by additional learning on his own.
For the most part has served on a succession of scrap and salvage operation ships.
Does he Cook? I can make soy into things that can be swallowed without gagging. Sometimes they look funny but they can be eaten safely. Not an inspired cook. What I can do to genuine food shouldn't happen to garbage - but I am ever ever willing to learn!
|Rene Cariveau |
Name: Rene Arceneaux Bernardo Cariveau
Aliases: Fre - Cajun for Brother (Only Adrian calls him that) Priateľ, Slovic for friend and a few other things (Only Mickey calls him that)
Home planet: Beaumonde; Sayabec
Occupation: Cargo Captain
Appearance: 6'2", average build but fit, longish dark brown hair and brown eyes that seem to turn black when he's pissed. He dresses pretty simply, but sticks to brown and blue - navy blue in particular - that way everything matches. When armed, he wears twin shoulder holsters under his coat - a hip-length black leather thing that looks like it's been around for a hundred years. Not quite, but close. He speaks with a Sayabec drawl - somewhere between a Cajun French accent and the drawl normally heard out on the rim.
Personality: Serious, but with an extremely dry sense of humor. Very little surprises him anymore, and he knows how to react when it does - either with laughter or his gun. He leads by example, but knows when to give the tough orders as well. Rene values the trust placed in him by a good, solid crew, but will deal with crew members who step out of line.
History: Born on Beaumonde, Rene grew up on the Zirondelle, the private Dragonfly-class cargo freighter that his father ran as captain. The Cariveau family didn't directly side with the Independents, but they were part of the contingent of civilian smugglers that strived to bring the Independents the supplies they needed. Some stories are told around campfires about the lengths the Zirondelle went to in order to complete a supply run. Some of it is even true. After the war, Rene stayed with the family business, but now he's looking for his own opportunities. Some would say his separation from the family ship had to do with a woman. They might even be right, but not for the reasons most might think.
Can He Cook? Well... I can put together protein to make it look like a fried egg sandwich when I need to. Ketchup helps.
|The Philosopher |
AKA Phil, Philly, and Gorram-fuzzybutt-move, he is Micheal's cat companion.
Phil is approximately 5 years old, (Mickey found him as a kitten so doesn't know his exact age). Bright and friendly, he is a typical ship's cat, eager to meet new people and new vermin. He gives presents to those he is particularly fond of.
He is also very, very addicted to strawberries and anything containing them.
Phil is a polydactyl cat and when he scratches someone, they know they've been scratched.
Because it IS my turf.
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