Arthro
Arthropod Enthusiast
Pyotr Abakumov
A man of science who yearns for nothing but his past.
Race: Human
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Alias: Pete
Personality: Pyotr is a stoic man with not much to say. He does not want to waste his breath, due to his being very limited. He tends to be very down-to-Earth with his decisions and opinions, and does not take a joke well. He's a bit of a dreamer, but tries not to show it. If he needs something done, you bet your ass it will be finished before sunrise.
History: Pyotr was born into a wealthy family. He had always been interested in the sciences, despite being encouraged to play rough with all the other boys. Eventually, this landed him a job in the Hazardous Materials and Environments Dept. of Gaz Incorporated. This was shortly before the fall of [PLANET] due to nuclear fallout. Pyotr had always been suspecting this, and preemptively fled shortly before the strike across the world. He never really settled in the cold wastes of what remains of [REDACTED], but acts more like a nomad, living off of the liquid oxygen reserves and IV supplements he can scavenge.
Pyotr cannot take off his suit. His immune system has degenerated after years of not being used.
Abilities:
Old man's Intuition: Pete is a scientist with experience in the dangerous field of hazardous materials. He understands many things, and has kept both his suit, and his jeep running for years in the wasteland.
Scientists Will: While Pyotr's immune system failed years ago, his suit handles everything and more than his body could ever hope to. He can survive in many places that no ill-equipped human could.
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Birthplace: North Western [REDACTED]
Likes: Classical music, the night sky, discussing science and theories
Dislikes: The color red, his suit, nuclear weapons, guns
Weapon: 5mm burst rifle
Skills: Working under pressure, speaking, repairs, comforting others
Weaknesses: His old age, weakening body, depression
Fears: The dark, old age, humanity
Scent: Dust
Race: Machine(?)
Age: Unknown, but recent.
Gender: Male
Alias: UV
Personality: Cynical. Nothing matters, everything is ultimately pointless. General disliking towards everything with a noun. Very robust speech, not afraid to say anything. Unprovocative, never starts a fight on purpose. The only reason he's still here is he's programmed to fear death.
History: UV was created as a highly versatile machine. He has no clue what that purpose is, or why he was created, because his memory is made to be wiped every month, this is out of his control. Wherever he is, he was likely left behind without hope of getting back to his home due to this curse.
Abilities:
The Gift of (limited) Flight: UV can float through use of gravity manipulation, but cannot go very fast due to his weight. There's also the chance that he can fall from being hit too hard.
Versatility: He's got quite the variety of tools hanging from his body, ranging from high-tech torch welders to simple screwdrivers.s.
Endurance: UV is made to be anywhere - whether that be the vacuum of space, a radiation-scorched ground zero, or a pitch black seabed, UV is able to work under any conditions. Hell, he could probably walk - er, float, off a bullet or two. Though, his miserable mood is just as constant as his efficiency.
Birthplace: Unknown
Likes: Silence, being left alone, having a job to do
Dislikes: Anything that speaks, being left alone, disorder
Weapon: His array tools could mutilate soft flesh with ease, but why would he ever do that?
Skills: Anything related to construction or demolition, maths, sciences, memorization
Weaknesses: Communication, willpower, combat, empathy
Fears: Being stranded, death, losing any of his antennas, heights
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Scent: Cold, lifeless metal. Or dirt. Or whatever filthy environment he's been in.
A man of science who yearns for nothing but his past.
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Alias: Pete
Personality: Pyotr is a stoic man with not much to say. He does not want to waste his breath, due to his being very limited. He tends to be very down-to-Earth with his decisions and opinions, and does not take a joke well. He's a bit of a dreamer, but tries not to show it. If he needs something done, you bet your ass it will be finished before sunrise.
History: Pyotr was born into a wealthy family. He had always been interested in the sciences, despite being encouraged to play rough with all the other boys. Eventually, this landed him a job in the Hazardous Materials and Environments Dept. of Gaz Incorporated. This was shortly before the fall of [PLANET] due to nuclear fallout. Pyotr had always been suspecting this, and preemptively fled shortly before the strike across the world. He never really settled in the cold wastes of what remains of [REDACTED], but acts more like a nomad, living off of the liquid oxygen reserves and IV supplements he can scavenge.
Pyotr cannot take off his suit. His immune system has degenerated after years of not being used.
Abilities:
Old man's Intuition: Pete is a scientist with experience in the dangerous field of hazardous materials. He understands many things, and has kept both his suit, and his jeep running for years in the wasteland.
Scientists Will: While Pyotr's immune system failed years ago, his suit handles everything and more than his body could ever hope to. He can survive in many places that no ill-equipped human could.
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Birthplace: North Western [REDACTED]
Likes: Classical music, the night sky, discussing science and theories
Dislikes: The color red, his suit, nuclear weapons, guns
Weapon: 5mm burst rifle
Skills: Working under pressure, speaking, repairs, comforting others
Weaknesses: His old age, weakening body, depression
Fears: The dark, old age, humanity
Scent: Dust
UVUB-1
A machine on a mission undisclosed to all, even itself.
A machine on a mission undisclosed to all, even itself.
Age: Unknown, but recent.
Gender: Male
Alias: UV
Personality: Cynical. Nothing matters, everything is ultimately pointless. General disliking towards everything with a noun. Very robust speech, not afraid to say anything. Unprovocative, never starts a fight on purpose. The only reason he's still here is he's programmed to fear death.
History: UV was created as a highly versatile machine. He has no clue what that purpose is, or why he was created, because his memory is made to be wiped every month, this is out of his control. Wherever he is, he was likely left behind without hope of getting back to his home due to this curse.
Abilities:
The Gift of (limited) Flight: UV can float through use of gravity manipulation, but cannot go very fast due to his weight. There's also the chance that he can fall from being hit too hard.
Versatility: He's got quite the variety of tools hanging from his body, ranging from high-tech torch welders to simple screwdrivers.s.
Endurance: UV is made to be anywhere - whether that be the vacuum of space, a radiation-scorched ground zero, or a pitch black seabed, UV is able to work under any conditions. Hell, he could probably walk - er, float, off a bullet or two. Though, his miserable mood is just as constant as his efficiency.
Birthplace: Unknown
Likes: Silence, being left alone, having a job to do
Dislikes: Anything that speaks, being left alone, disorder
Weapon: His array tools could mutilate soft flesh with ease, but why would he ever do that?
Skills: Anything related to construction or demolition, maths, sciences, memorization
Weaknesses: Communication, willpower, combat, empathy
Fears: Being stranded, death, losing any of his antennas, heights
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Scent: Cold, lifeless metal. Or dirt. Or whatever filthy environment he's been in.
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