Mourningstar
Feb 6, 2016 21:47:31 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Feb 6, 2016 21:47:31 GMT -5
-Player Info-
Name/Alias: Raditz
-Character Info-
Name: Mourningstar
Age: Late 20’s equivalent
Gender: Mech
Species: Cybertronian
Faction: Decepticon
Original Occupation: Deep Space Exploration / Border Patrol around Kaon
Occupation/Specialization: Research and Development/Resource Seeking
Appearance/Altmode: Standing at just under Prime’s height, Mourningstar’s built a bit off of the standard Seeker model. He’s very broad in the shoulders, and very narrow in the hips, lending him rather triangular proportions. He’s also quite dorsoventrally flattened, with only a hint of a keel along his cockpit. Said cockpit is on his lower belly, just above his hips. His legs are long, slender and digitigrade; they could unflatteringly be called chicken legs. His feet are arranged with two toes in front and two short toes in back. While these toes are talon-tipped, and capable of grabbing objects, they are well suited for ground running, or kicking people in the face. His arms are disproportionately long, to compensate for just how broad his chest is, ending in dexterous five digited hands, arranged in a three finger, two thumb configuration. The engines of his alt mode end up mounted to his back between and just below his extremely tiny wings. His wings are small enough that when held flat to his back they are barely visible beyond the edge of his shoulders. There’s no pretending that they’d be able to keep him aloft in root mode. He lacks the sharp, narrow features of many seekers, though still has rather slanted optics in usual Decepticon red, and instead of a singular long crest he has two stubby crests running along the top of his helm. He’s the standard mottled silver camo of his alt mode, with a darker silver Decepticon symbol on the inner edge of his left wing. His voice is rather raspy, with screechy or shrill overtones; he is not a pleasant mech to listen to.
His alt mode is a Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor.
History: Mourningstar was sparked at the aft-end of the Golden Age to a rather eccentric engineer with odd ideas about aesthetics and how much chest area one mech needs. He was fortunate enough to make it off planet and indulge his interest in exploration before the changing times drew him back to Cybertron. He liked disappearing into the void, finding new and interesting locations and resources, and he was exceptionally good at keeping himself alive in adverse conditions.
But as the Golden Age waned he found himself drawn back to Cyberton like so many others, and the caste system saw fit to stuff him into the Military by virtue of his ability to fly. Everyone knew Seekers weren’t fit to mingle with regular folk, and Mourningstar’s generally antisocial behavior didn’t win him any points to the contrary. He wasn’t particularly good at CQC though, and ended up shuffled into the border patrol around Kaon, tasked to keep mechs on their respective sides of the city state lines. It was processor numbing work, a deeply unwanted tether after the vast borderless freedom of space, and Mourn’s demeanor only got more acerbic and hostile.
The Gladatorial Pits were no secret, even if the activities within were secret to none, but it wasn’t until Megatron was a well established champion that Mourningstar bothered to seek out the games and see what all the noise was about. The press of crowds was too close, too loud. Bloodsports were all well and fine, but with that many mechs crammed into one space it would be far too easy for someone in the crowd to catch a knife. He was certainly more than aware that he wouldn’t be the most popular mech there, if only for his retaining a caste-decreed job that hinged on restricting the movements of others. Too many mechs without jobs, without energy to live on got bounced at the border, unable to seek the work they needed to live in richer city-states.
The first time he heard Megatron’s speeches of freedom, and equality, it caught hooks in the wounded and bitter part of his Spark that resented being wing clipped and forced into a job he didn’t like. He wasn’t young or naive enough to fall into it whole cloth, but whatever future Megatron envisioned couldn’t be any worse than the current one the Senate had manufactured. Change, even chaotic bloody change, could yield opportunities to achieve his own ends. Better to throw his lot in with the mechs that wanted more, and didn’t treat him like a disposable turret.
His placement on the border patrol did lend itself well to assisting with the fledgling Decepticon movement. A few mechs here and there allowed to pass through without notice, manipulation of records and incidents to cover up his involvement in any wrong doing, and when the time finally came just abandoning his post to turn on those unsympathetic to the Cause put Mourningstar in a fairly favorable position. Yes, War wasn’t ideal, but killing wasn’t wholly repugnant when it was useful, and it was at least different, and much more interesting. Up until it wasn’t anymore.
Few would have guessed that the Senate would take things far enough to kill Cybertron? Admittedly Megatron also refused to back down, but concessions could have been made. Still, Mourningstar wasn’t unprepared or unequipped to leave the dying Planet, that knowledge securing him a spot on a small deployment during the Exodus. He was still very good at locating reserve pockets of Energon for the taking, and figuring out where pockets of Autobots might hole up for routing out. While by no means liked by the rest of his crew mates, he was competent, and they enjoyed not-dying for quite a while with Mourn’ acting as ship captain.
An unfortunate run in with a much larger ship and double their number in Autobots cut the whole not-dying run short, though they did manage to take out most of their opponents during the disastrous confrontation. Space flight capability and knowing precisely when the cut and run from a lost cause kept Mourningstar from joining the scrap heap with the rest of his crew, and his lightly exploded ship. Some could call it cowardice, but a strategic withdrawal to live and fight another day seemed the Pit of a lot smarter than fighting to the bloody, dismembering end. It did however mean that he would need to locate resources, and decide if the War was worth pursuing at this point. He’d gotten what he wanted, freedom to roam the galaxy at his own discretion, but such freedom could be costly, particularly with no stockpile of stuff to prevent injury and starvation. Regrouping with other Decepticons would at least mean resources to exploit, and information on how the main war effort was proceeding.
A beacon intercept summoning him to a nowhere planet made up his mind, and after much too long in space on his own he reported to the Nemesis, curious to see just what’s new these days.
Personality: Mourningstar is acerbic, quick witted, and not particularly friendly. He doesn’t want to be your friend, and he’s inherently distrustful of anyone who tries to get on his good side. He knows he’s a jerk. That said, he’s got a healthy respect for the chain of command, and will follow orders efficiently and well, unless those orders are stupid, in which case he prefers to see the moron who gave them ‘disappear’ if at all possible rather than acting out in the moment. He’s got a fondness for complaining about things he doesn’t like, and will occasionally goad others into arguing with him, even if it’s about nothing, just for fun.
He doesn’t trust in anyone or anything, and could be called rather paranoid at times. It doesn’t matter if a mech has never done anything suspicious, he will often decide they are out to get him anyway, should his attention lapse. It’s not a strong enough paranoia to have him jumping at shadows, or twitching at every odd noise, but if surprised he will immediately assume it’s an attack, and defend himself accordingly. He also is rather squirrelly when it comes to Energon, and he won’t drink anything that hasn’t come directly to him from rations or refining. It’s much too easy to poison an unwary mech, in his mind.
Like all Seekers, he gets rather restless if kept indoors for a length of time, and he suffers from claustrophobia, though not enough to freak out if underground or ship-bound provided the space allows him to stand up to his full height without touching the ceiling or walls.
Mourningstar’s EM field is always tucked quite close to his body, in accordance with his distrust of everyone, and rather chaotic. He has all the feels, at all the time, and it can be disorienting to brush up against for anyone unused to it. Even when he’s at rest there’s a steady churn of emotion. It makes it hard for him to blend into his surroundings, but also difficult for anyone to get a good read on precisely what is going on in his head.
Likes:
- Roaming: Mourningstar is the sort of mech that has to keep moving, and searching out the new. He’s happiest when he’s allowed to move about as he likes, and to investigate whatever seems interesting.
- Tinkering: Deep-Space exploration requires the ability to fashion one’s own tools and needed items on the fly; there’s no way to carry everything that you’d need or to anticipate whatever could come up in the field. Mourn’s particularly good at cobbling together what he needs and when, from scientific equipment to investigate some strange new thing, to refining supplies to ensure he gets some usable fuel to live on. He’s also quite good at designing weapons, but they’re prohibitively expensive in resources to build, so overwhelmingly his designs remain just that.
- Repurposing: Morbid, and definitely a war-time hobby, Mourningstar really enjoys dismembering and parting out the dead in order to use those parts to new gain. If you should die in his company, he will absolutely steal your robot organs, and either use them for self-repair when necessary, or for something he wants or needs.
Dislikes:
- Tethers: Both literal and metaphorical. He hates being bound to one place by commitment or orders, and will get increasingly unpleasant the longer he is forced to linger. Actual physical restraints are met with immediate and violent attempts to free himself and rip the face off whomever would dare to bind him. He’s beyond rationalizing, and if he cannot escape he will get caught in an almost feral thought loop of trappedtrappedtrapped…
- Waste: Theirs is a species without a proper planet, and waste of resources gets his dander up. Particularly when it comes to parts or supplies. Burying the dead comes across to him as spectacularly wasteful, and will be certain to put him in a foul mood.
- Humiliation: For such a mean creature his self-worth is surprisingly fragile, and being forced into compromising situations is extremely galling. He HATES it, and will remember a slight against him for the rest of eternity. He may not be able to act against aggressors, but he always remembers, and should the situation arise where a certain party needs his aid, such behavior will determine just how willing he is to offer assistance.
- The H word: Mourningstar will not ask for help by name, except in the most dire of situations. He strongly fears asking and being denied it, so he will avoid the asking at all costs. Requesting assistance is not the same, help implies helplessness, and he refuses to subject himself to that if possible. If he asks for help, his life is immediately on the line, and living trumps pride every time.
- Condescending Superiors: He knows he’s smart, and good at what he does, and so when stationed under another who clearly thinks they are better than him and thus deserve to treat him like smelt runoff, he will make a point to be uncooperative and outright malicious if the opportunity presents itself.
- Smexy Times: Interpersonal skills are difficult, and Mourningstar distinctly dislikes the trope that Seekers be whores. He’s lacks for interest in knowing a mech or femme that well, and will get very defensive about it if poked. You’re all gross, no touching allowed.
Strengths/Weapons:
- Flight: Mourningstar may be awkwardly shaped on the ground, but he’s always had a talent for flying, which served him well in the vastness of space, and the atmospheres of foreign planets. While he’s had to assume an earth-side alternate mode, the F-22 proves to be quite suitable to his hit-and-run fighting style, and maneuverable enough to allow him to dogfight with grace and speed.
- Missiles: Preferring solid ammunition to energy based shot, Mourningstar carries 6 air to ground medium range missiles. They’re do not track heat or energy sigs, but they are quire powerful, and a direct hit is sufficient to take the legs off a Bumblebee sized mech. Once expended a single missile takes least a day to replenish in non-combat, well fueled and supplied conditions. He can fire missiles in both robot and alternate mode.
- Gatling Gun: Within the armor of his right forearm he’s got a small 6 barrel rapid fire gatling gun that can be popped out for use at a moment’s notice. Again, this weapon uses solid ammunition, which is metabolically more expensive to produce, but tends to be hard to deflect. Against tin-foil to light armor it is quite effective, but it is really only useful for harrying Medium armor, and against Heavy armor he’ll have to hope for a lucky knick against an accidentally exposed line somewhere, because it’s not doing much otherwise. He has 500 bullets maximum at any given time, and it takes about a day for IRS to manufacture a full round of bullets from empty in non-combat, well fueled and supplied conditions.
- Arm blades: He’s got two retractable arm blades hidden within his left forearm, useful only for close range stabbing and slashing. The blades only extend about a forearm’s length beyond his wrist, and he tends to reserve them for emergency CQC situations.
- Kicky Legs: There’s a lot of power in them glorious chikkin legs, and he isn’t afraid to use them. On the ground he can build up fairly good running speed, and he can jump very well, allowing him the get airborne very quickly. They’re also very handy for kicking the fuel tank out of a body while grappling, his short foot talons combined with the strength of his legs capable of doing significant damage.
- Ammunitions: Because solid core rounds and missiles work in many more conditions than pure energy, Mourningstar adapted to use of them early on in his explorative career. However, there was never a reliable ammunitions supply in the backend of nowhere, and so he had to get a little creative to ensure that he’d never be somewhere unable to come up with bullets. With the help of various engineers and frame mechanics, he devised a way to game his internal repair systems (IRS) into manufacturing ammunitions the same way they would heal damaged armor, and a secondary intake system to process minerals and metals to fuel ammunition production without stripping his own frame bare in the process. The metal supplements could be fine ground and mixed in with energon rations, which is the preferred method of intake, but in worst case situations he can simply eat chunks of metal and mineral to create needed bullets. Fortunately, during the War, there ended up being a lot of ‘spare metal’ lying around for consumption. His systems are only capable of making his set type of ammunition, and he cannot modify what sort of round he ends up with. He cannot generate specialty ammunition, so if the missiles or bullets he has do not work, he is SOL.
- Nom: While not intended for biting, the need for dentae capable of rending metal into bite-sized pieces to produce bullets means Mourningstar has a functional defensive bite. He’s no shark-face like Megatron, but he can and will bite if stuck in a position where it is the most effective means to buy himself space to escape.
Weaknesses:
- I can’t get up: If pinned on his front it is almost impossible for him to get enough leverage to throw a mech even a bit smaller than himself off. His arms are too widely spaced, shoulders too broad, and chest too flat to allow him to roll over with a weight on his back. Nor does he have any back-mounted weapons to defend himself with, and he’s got vulnerable jet engines and teeny wings there ripe for the attacking.
- Mild armor: Mourningstar relies on quick hit-and-run attack style, and so he cannot have a lot of armor weighing him down. He’s not tissue paper, but he cannot withstand serious hits.
- Triangle Man: That extremely broad chest makes a really large target, even when he’s making a point not to stick around long enough for anyone to take advantage of it. It also makes it harder for him to move about narrow spaces.
- Allies, what?: Mourningstar doesn’t make friends, or even allies very well. He’s an asshole, and paranoid to boot. This means he can find himself in nasty situations without backup, or anyone who would be interested in coming to his aid.
- Don’t Touch Me: If in a particularly strong fit of paranoia, he will often put off seeking medical treatment for injuries sustained on the battlefield because he fears being compromised will make it easy for an unscrupulous medic to take advantage if his condition. He will insist on going on his terms, gaping holes in his chest be damned. This can be problematic if he gets called out to the field again before he gives in and seeks treatment, and often results in getting himself hurt much worse than he would have been.
- Bang Bang: Solid core ammunition is extremely expensive metabolically to manufacture. Yes, it’s more effective than pure energy shot in more situations, but it’s costly to maintain. In high combat situations chances are good he will run out of ammunition, and be forced to retreat or resort to CQC, which almost guarantees injury. When external metals can’t be consumed to fuel bullet and missile production IRS will strip requisite materials from his own frame, resulting in strut and armor weaknesses.
- Feed Me: If in a position where he has to regenerate bullets or missiles, his energon requirements double. If he cannot meet the metabolic demands his IRSs will automatically throttle back on replacing ammunition, but this means he will be short on valuable and necessary weaponry. And still hungry.
Special skills: Mourningstar has a talent for manufacturing odd-ends that make it easier and more likely to survive, particularly when resources are scarce. He may not be comfortable, but he’ll still be alive, and that’s what counts. He’s also quite good at picking up new mechanical skills with minimal instruction, and figuring out how something works, and how to (often temporarily) fix it.
He’s also got enough practical field medical experience to prevent gruesome bleeding to death when shot, for at least long enough to find a medic that won’t steal his insides.
Extra Info: Mourningstar can make use of prefabricated ammunitions rather than having to produce his own, provided said ammunitions match his specs precisely. Much the same as you cannot use revolver ammunition in a semi-automatic. Given solid-core ammunition is not terribly popular to begin with, and his specs are Golden Age, this means the vast majority of any ammunition will not work with his weapons. It’s easier to eat non-compatible rounds to aid in generating his own ammunition.
Name/Alias: Raditz
-Character Info-
Name: Mourningstar
Age: Late 20’s equivalent
Gender: Mech
Species: Cybertronian
Faction: Decepticon
Original Occupation: Deep Space Exploration / Border Patrol around Kaon
Occupation/Specialization: Research and Development/Resource Seeking
Appearance/Altmode: Standing at just under Prime’s height, Mourningstar’s built a bit off of the standard Seeker model. He’s very broad in the shoulders, and very narrow in the hips, lending him rather triangular proportions. He’s also quite dorsoventrally flattened, with only a hint of a keel along his cockpit. Said cockpit is on his lower belly, just above his hips. His legs are long, slender and digitigrade; they could unflatteringly be called chicken legs. His feet are arranged with two toes in front and two short toes in back. While these toes are talon-tipped, and capable of grabbing objects, they are well suited for ground running, or kicking people in the face. His arms are disproportionately long, to compensate for just how broad his chest is, ending in dexterous five digited hands, arranged in a three finger, two thumb configuration. The engines of his alt mode end up mounted to his back between and just below his extremely tiny wings. His wings are small enough that when held flat to his back they are barely visible beyond the edge of his shoulders. There’s no pretending that they’d be able to keep him aloft in root mode. He lacks the sharp, narrow features of many seekers, though still has rather slanted optics in usual Decepticon red, and instead of a singular long crest he has two stubby crests running along the top of his helm. He’s the standard mottled silver camo of his alt mode, with a darker silver Decepticon symbol on the inner edge of his left wing. His voice is rather raspy, with screechy or shrill overtones; he is not a pleasant mech to listen to.
His alt mode is a Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor.
History: Mourningstar was sparked at the aft-end of the Golden Age to a rather eccentric engineer with odd ideas about aesthetics and how much chest area one mech needs. He was fortunate enough to make it off planet and indulge his interest in exploration before the changing times drew him back to Cybertron. He liked disappearing into the void, finding new and interesting locations and resources, and he was exceptionally good at keeping himself alive in adverse conditions.
But as the Golden Age waned he found himself drawn back to Cyberton like so many others, and the caste system saw fit to stuff him into the Military by virtue of his ability to fly. Everyone knew Seekers weren’t fit to mingle with regular folk, and Mourningstar’s generally antisocial behavior didn’t win him any points to the contrary. He wasn’t particularly good at CQC though, and ended up shuffled into the border patrol around Kaon, tasked to keep mechs on their respective sides of the city state lines. It was processor numbing work, a deeply unwanted tether after the vast borderless freedom of space, and Mourn’s demeanor only got more acerbic and hostile.
The Gladatorial Pits were no secret, even if the activities within were secret to none, but it wasn’t until Megatron was a well established champion that Mourningstar bothered to seek out the games and see what all the noise was about. The press of crowds was too close, too loud. Bloodsports were all well and fine, but with that many mechs crammed into one space it would be far too easy for someone in the crowd to catch a knife. He was certainly more than aware that he wouldn’t be the most popular mech there, if only for his retaining a caste-decreed job that hinged on restricting the movements of others. Too many mechs without jobs, without energy to live on got bounced at the border, unable to seek the work they needed to live in richer city-states.
The first time he heard Megatron’s speeches of freedom, and equality, it caught hooks in the wounded and bitter part of his Spark that resented being wing clipped and forced into a job he didn’t like. He wasn’t young or naive enough to fall into it whole cloth, but whatever future Megatron envisioned couldn’t be any worse than the current one the Senate had manufactured. Change, even chaotic bloody change, could yield opportunities to achieve his own ends. Better to throw his lot in with the mechs that wanted more, and didn’t treat him like a disposable turret.
His placement on the border patrol did lend itself well to assisting with the fledgling Decepticon movement. A few mechs here and there allowed to pass through without notice, manipulation of records and incidents to cover up his involvement in any wrong doing, and when the time finally came just abandoning his post to turn on those unsympathetic to the Cause put Mourningstar in a fairly favorable position. Yes, War wasn’t ideal, but killing wasn’t wholly repugnant when it was useful, and it was at least different, and much more interesting. Up until it wasn’t anymore.
Few would have guessed that the Senate would take things far enough to kill Cybertron? Admittedly Megatron also refused to back down, but concessions could have been made. Still, Mourningstar wasn’t unprepared or unequipped to leave the dying Planet, that knowledge securing him a spot on a small deployment during the Exodus. He was still very good at locating reserve pockets of Energon for the taking, and figuring out where pockets of Autobots might hole up for routing out. While by no means liked by the rest of his crew mates, he was competent, and they enjoyed not-dying for quite a while with Mourn’ acting as ship captain.
An unfortunate run in with a much larger ship and double their number in Autobots cut the whole not-dying run short, though they did manage to take out most of their opponents during the disastrous confrontation. Space flight capability and knowing precisely when the cut and run from a lost cause kept Mourningstar from joining the scrap heap with the rest of his crew, and his lightly exploded ship. Some could call it cowardice, but a strategic withdrawal to live and fight another day seemed the Pit of a lot smarter than fighting to the bloody, dismembering end. It did however mean that he would need to locate resources, and decide if the War was worth pursuing at this point. He’d gotten what he wanted, freedom to roam the galaxy at his own discretion, but such freedom could be costly, particularly with no stockpile of stuff to prevent injury and starvation. Regrouping with other Decepticons would at least mean resources to exploit, and information on how the main war effort was proceeding.
A beacon intercept summoning him to a nowhere planet made up his mind, and after much too long in space on his own he reported to the Nemesis, curious to see just what’s new these days.
Personality: Mourningstar is acerbic, quick witted, and not particularly friendly. He doesn’t want to be your friend, and he’s inherently distrustful of anyone who tries to get on his good side. He knows he’s a jerk. That said, he’s got a healthy respect for the chain of command, and will follow orders efficiently and well, unless those orders are stupid, in which case he prefers to see the moron who gave them ‘disappear’ if at all possible rather than acting out in the moment. He’s got a fondness for complaining about things he doesn’t like, and will occasionally goad others into arguing with him, even if it’s about nothing, just for fun.
He doesn’t trust in anyone or anything, and could be called rather paranoid at times. It doesn’t matter if a mech has never done anything suspicious, he will often decide they are out to get him anyway, should his attention lapse. It’s not a strong enough paranoia to have him jumping at shadows, or twitching at every odd noise, but if surprised he will immediately assume it’s an attack, and defend himself accordingly. He also is rather squirrelly when it comes to Energon, and he won’t drink anything that hasn’t come directly to him from rations or refining. It’s much too easy to poison an unwary mech, in his mind.
Like all Seekers, he gets rather restless if kept indoors for a length of time, and he suffers from claustrophobia, though not enough to freak out if underground or ship-bound provided the space allows him to stand up to his full height without touching the ceiling or walls.
Mourningstar’s EM field is always tucked quite close to his body, in accordance with his distrust of everyone, and rather chaotic. He has all the feels, at all the time, and it can be disorienting to brush up against for anyone unused to it. Even when he’s at rest there’s a steady churn of emotion. It makes it hard for him to blend into his surroundings, but also difficult for anyone to get a good read on precisely what is going on in his head.
Likes:
- Roaming: Mourningstar is the sort of mech that has to keep moving, and searching out the new. He’s happiest when he’s allowed to move about as he likes, and to investigate whatever seems interesting.
- Tinkering: Deep-Space exploration requires the ability to fashion one’s own tools and needed items on the fly; there’s no way to carry everything that you’d need or to anticipate whatever could come up in the field. Mourn’s particularly good at cobbling together what he needs and when, from scientific equipment to investigate some strange new thing, to refining supplies to ensure he gets some usable fuel to live on. He’s also quite good at designing weapons, but they’re prohibitively expensive in resources to build, so overwhelmingly his designs remain just that.
- Repurposing: Morbid, and definitely a war-time hobby, Mourningstar really enjoys dismembering and parting out the dead in order to use those parts to new gain. If you should die in his company, he will absolutely steal your robot organs, and either use them for self-repair when necessary, or for something he wants or needs.
Dislikes:
- Tethers: Both literal and metaphorical. He hates being bound to one place by commitment or orders, and will get increasingly unpleasant the longer he is forced to linger. Actual physical restraints are met with immediate and violent attempts to free himself and rip the face off whomever would dare to bind him. He’s beyond rationalizing, and if he cannot escape he will get caught in an almost feral thought loop of trappedtrappedtrapped…
- Waste: Theirs is a species without a proper planet, and waste of resources gets his dander up. Particularly when it comes to parts or supplies. Burying the dead comes across to him as spectacularly wasteful, and will be certain to put him in a foul mood.
- Humiliation: For such a mean creature his self-worth is surprisingly fragile, and being forced into compromising situations is extremely galling. He HATES it, and will remember a slight against him for the rest of eternity. He may not be able to act against aggressors, but he always remembers, and should the situation arise where a certain party needs his aid, such behavior will determine just how willing he is to offer assistance.
- The H word: Mourningstar will not ask for help by name, except in the most dire of situations. He strongly fears asking and being denied it, so he will avoid the asking at all costs. Requesting assistance is not the same, help implies helplessness, and he refuses to subject himself to that if possible. If he asks for help, his life is immediately on the line, and living trumps pride every time.
- Condescending Superiors: He knows he’s smart, and good at what he does, and so when stationed under another who clearly thinks they are better than him and thus deserve to treat him like smelt runoff, he will make a point to be uncooperative and outright malicious if the opportunity presents itself.
- Smexy Times: Interpersonal skills are difficult, and Mourningstar distinctly dislikes the trope that Seekers be whores. He’s lacks for interest in knowing a mech or femme that well, and will get very defensive about it if poked. You’re all gross, no touching allowed.
Strengths/Weapons:
- Flight: Mourningstar may be awkwardly shaped on the ground, but he’s always had a talent for flying, which served him well in the vastness of space, and the atmospheres of foreign planets. While he’s had to assume an earth-side alternate mode, the F-22 proves to be quite suitable to his hit-and-run fighting style, and maneuverable enough to allow him to dogfight with grace and speed.
- Missiles: Preferring solid ammunition to energy based shot, Mourningstar carries 6 air to ground medium range missiles. They’re do not track heat or energy sigs, but they are quire powerful, and a direct hit is sufficient to take the legs off a Bumblebee sized mech. Once expended a single missile takes least a day to replenish in non-combat, well fueled and supplied conditions. He can fire missiles in both robot and alternate mode.
- Gatling Gun: Within the armor of his right forearm he’s got a small 6 barrel rapid fire gatling gun that can be popped out for use at a moment’s notice. Again, this weapon uses solid ammunition, which is metabolically more expensive to produce, but tends to be hard to deflect. Against tin-foil to light armor it is quite effective, but it is really only useful for harrying Medium armor, and against Heavy armor he’ll have to hope for a lucky knick against an accidentally exposed line somewhere, because it’s not doing much otherwise. He has 500 bullets maximum at any given time, and it takes about a day for IRS to manufacture a full round of bullets from empty in non-combat, well fueled and supplied conditions.
- Arm blades: He’s got two retractable arm blades hidden within his left forearm, useful only for close range stabbing and slashing. The blades only extend about a forearm’s length beyond his wrist, and he tends to reserve them for emergency CQC situations.
- Kicky Legs: There’s a lot of power in them glorious chikkin legs, and he isn’t afraid to use them. On the ground he can build up fairly good running speed, and he can jump very well, allowing him the get airborne very quickly. They’re also very handy for kicking the fuel tank out of a body while grappling, his short foot talons combined with the strength of his legs capable of doing significant damage.
- Ammunitions: Because solid core rounds and missiles work in many more conditions than pure energy, Mourningstar adapted to use of them early on in his explorative career. However, there was never a reliable ammunitions supply in the backend of nowhere, and so he had to get a little creative to ensure that he’d never be somewhere unable to come up with bullets. With the help of various engineers and frame mechanics, he devised a way to game his internal repair systems (IRS) into manufacturing ammunitions the same way they would heal damaged armor, and a secondary intake system to process minerals and metals to fuel ammunition production without stripping his own frame bare in the process. The metal supplements could be fine ground and mixed in with energon rations, which is the preferred method of intake, but in worst case situations he can simply eat chunks of metal and mineral to create needed bullets. Fortunately, during the War, there ended up being a lot of ‘spare metal’ lying around for consumption. His systems are only capable of making his set type of ammunition, and he cannot modify what sort of round he ends up with. He cannot generate specialty ammunition, so if the missiles or bullets he has do not work, he is SOL.
- Nom: While not intended for biting, the need for dentae capable of rending metal into bite-sized pieces to produce bullets means Mourningstar has a functional defensive bite. He’s no shark-face like Megatron, but he can and will bite if stuck in a position where it is the most effective means to buy himself space to escape.
Weaknesses:
- I can’t get up: If pinned on his front it is almost impossible for him to get enough leverage to throw a mech even a bit smaller than himself off. His arms are too widely spaced, shoulders too broad, and chest too flat to allow him to roll over with a weight on his back. Nor does he have any back-mounted weapons to defend himself with, and he’s got vulnerable jet engines and teeny wings there ripe for the attacking.
- Mild armor: Mourningstar relies on quick hit-and-run attack style, and so he cannot have a lot of armor weighing him down. He’s not tissue paper, but he cannot withstand serious hits.
- Triangle Man: That extremely broad chest makes a really large target, even when he’s making a point not to stick around long enough for anyone to take advantage of it. It also makes it harder for him to move about narrow spaces.
- Allies, what?: Mourningstar doesn’t make friends, or even allies very well. He’s an asshole, and paranoid to boot. This means he can find himself in nasty situations without backup, or anyone who would be interested in coming to his aid.
- Don’t Touch Me: If in a particularly strong fit of paranoia, he will often put off seeking medical treatment for injuries sustained on the battlefield because he fears being compromised will make it easy for an unscrupulous medic to take advantage if his condition. He will insist on going on his terms, gaping holes in his chest be damned. This can be problematic if he gets called out to the field again before he gives in and seeks treatment, and often results in getting himself hurt much worse than he would have been.
- Bang Bang: Solid core ammunition is extremely expensive metabolically to manufacture. Yes, it’s more effective than pure energy shot in more situations, but it’s costly to maintain. In high combat situations chances are good he will run out of ammunition, and be forced to retreat or resort to CQC, which almost guarantees injury. When external metals can’t be consumed to fuel bullet and missile production IRS will strip requisite materials from his own frame, resulting in strut and armor weaknesses.
- Feed Me: If in a position where he has to regenerate bullets or missiles, his energon requirements double. If he cannot meet the metabolic demands his IRSs will automatically throttle back on replacing ammunition, but this means he will be short on valuable and necessary weaponry. And still hungry.
Special skills: Mourningstar has a talent for manufacturing odd-ends that make it easier and more likely to survive, particularly when resources are scarce. He may not be comfortable, but he’ll still be alive, and that’s what counts. He’s also quite good at picking up new mechanical skills with minimal instruction, and figuring out how something works, and how to (often temporarily) fix it.
He’s also got enough practical field medical experience to prevent gruesome bleeding to death when shot, for at least long enough to find a medic that won’t steal his insides.
Extra Info: Mourningstar can make use of prefabricated ammunitions rather than having to produce his own, provided said ammunitions match his specs precisely. Much the same as you cannot use revolver ammunition in a semi-automatic. Given solid-core ammunition is not terribly popular to begin with, and his specs are Golden Age, this means the vast majority of any ammunition will not work with his weapons. It’s easier to eat non-compatible rounds to aid in generating his own ammunition.