Halcyon

[Halcyon]

PLAYER INFO
Name/Alias: Knox

CHARACTER INFO

Name: Halcyon
Age Equivalent: Early 20s
Gender: Femme
Species: Cybertronian
Faction: Autobot

Original Occupation: Ballroom Entertainer/Singer

Occupation/Specialization: Frontlines Support/Flanking Infantry

Appearance: Halcyon is of typical thinness for her frame type and of atypical height (slightly taller than Arcee). Her color scheme is a flashy, even mix of inky black, shining silver, and gilded gold with neon blue biolights accenting. A denser armor core makes for less bulky/blocky armor on the exterior, allowing for the usual streamlined shape as most two-wheelers. Additional kibble protrudes from her leg armor, shoulder joints, knuckles, and helm in the form of spiked ornaments of polished silver. Her black and gold armor pieces denote areas of additional reinforcement, namely the servos and lower arms, legs, and helm. The latter is similar in shape to a human gladiatorial helmet. A lightly furled gold ponytail shape protrudes from the back of her helm as added kibble.

Altmode: Grounder; Custom Harley Davidson V-Rod

Pertinent History:
When Halcyon of Praxus was forged with a vocalizer considered by many to possess “once in a generation” singing talent, she was quickly claimed as a cultural artifact by a wealthy Praxus socialite who “volunteered” to preserve her raw talent. Promptly shut out from the outside world, Halcyon was made to work as a singer in a members-only performance hall for a rotating audience of Cybertron’s high caste. The ballroom she was assigned to was often the site of backroom negotiation where powerful figures congregated for their clandestine affairs. Halcyon’s voice of “liquid gold” was frequently used as a bargaining chip by her handlers, whose intentions were seldom benevolent. Her performances were used for everything from distracting rich benefactors during important business exchanges to spying on politicians under the cover of private performances.

Practically eaten alive by the cutthroat environment of the private entertainment industry and its true functions, Halcyon was forced to shoulder immense pressure to perform up to her superiors’ standards. Subject to routine verbal and physical punishment when things didn’t go according to plan, the abuse only worsened as Cybertron's political atmosphere grew increasingly destabilized. In the worst cases, Halcyon would be starved for days after bad deals– whether she’d had any real effect on them or not.

Relief from this hell came eventually though in the shape of a good samaritan from the outside. This bot was a member of the security detail for a politician that frequented the ballroom– a massive brawler who harbored deep disgust over the mistreatment of Halcyon. Aided by a new group calling themselves ‘Autobots,’ the mech hatched a plan to finally free Halcyon from her gilded cage.

On the eve of war, Halcyon’s “benefactor” had fled Praxus for the safety of Iacon, leaving the denizens of the ballroom behind. Finding Halcyon quite literally forgotten, chained to a wall deep within the complex, the good samaritan from the security detail freed her. The pair fought their way out of Praxus– Halcyon’s only weapons were the chains that had been used to bind her, employed as makeshift whips she learned to use on the go– and eventually linked up with Autobot forces.

Having lived an incredibly sheltered life until then, at the onset of the war Halcyon didn’t know enough about the outside world to fully grasp the bleakness of the situation. To her, freedom was exhilarating. The idea that she could be anything other than what she’d always been forced to be– and not just free, but a fighter? Someone who could be an agent of freedom for everyone? The appeal of the Autobots hooked her in easily, and she enlisted with them the very same day she was liberated from her prison. She quickly came to reject all that she once was– the quiet, obedient, accommodating servant soon became a loud, rebellious, unwieldy fighting machine– determined to take back control of the youth that had been stolen from her. She loved every second of it, and on the fields of battle the spirit of a warrior blazed to life in Halcyon.

Her frame was not yet built for war, but that wasn’t going to stop her from getting in on the action once the fighting came. Centuries became millennia as the battle waged on, and Halcyon grew into a highly capable infantry fighter who excelled in fast, brutal, dangerous melee combat suited to her slippery, punchy three-wheeler build. Adopting weapons similar to the chains she’d used to escape her prison, she quickly became a force to be reckoned with.

Unfortunately, she did not get to taste the glory of battle for long. Relatively early on in the war, an ill-fated rescue attempt at a Decepticon prison camp ended in an ambush that nearly killed her. After throwing herself in front of a blast to shield a group of Autobot POWs– an act provoked by a single sobering moment of clarity of purpose– her entire frame was scrapped. The prisoners, able to escape due to her sacrifice, brought her remains back to her squadron to be honored. However, upon being inspected by a medic it was found that Halcyon’s processor, spark, and transformation cog had all miraculously remained unharmed by the blast, her frame having taken the brunt of the damage.

The medic managed to salvage her internals, but due to the severity of her injuries and the resources required to rebuild her body, she did not receive repairs for a long time after this. Halcyon’s undamaged parts were shipped off to an Autobot medical facility and kept on ice for the remainder of the war. They would stay there up until the years before the Exodus, when reinforcements were so desperately needed that her internals were finally pulled out of storage to begin the reforging process.

Unable to scrounge up enough parts to fully rebuild her as the three-wheeler she was before her accident, Halcyon was reformatted into a heavier-duty two-wheeler. An expert blacksmith amongst the Autobots implemented a patchwork job of smelted down heavy armor paneling to reforge Halcyon’s protoform into an incredibly dense new core around her vital internals, providing the femme with well-needed protection she did not have prior. Sturdy metals were bracketed to her servos to pack a bigger punch in battle, while a weapons expert aided in implementing a new pair of whips into her frame itself, allowing them to be accessed from within her new alt mode as well as in root.

All in all, Halcyon was to be transformed into a true brawler, an effective blend of durability and power for her new weight class.

Performing such a complex rebuilding process with rationed materials took time though– and late in the war things were looking bleak for the Autobots. Sure enough, the call came for Exodus before Halcyon could be fully rebuilt. Thankfully, her still-forming protoform was evacuated to the Ark in time for the ship’s escape from Cybertron, where her body would continue to be worked on until the Ark came under attack at some point during its long journey through space. To protect Halcyon’s still-forging body, it had to be jettisoned from the Ark in a specially designed medical drop pod typically used for newsparks. Left to drift through space without the hand of a blacksmith or surgeon to shape her, Halcyon’s body began forming as naturally as any other protoform did, her body taking its new natural shape around its fresh core. And though her original voice box was destroyed along with the rest of her body, in the hundreds of years since her reforging began, her once-in-a-generation vocalizer returned once more, the new “natural” shape of her body seemingly not having forgotten what once was– and perhaps what could still be.

Relatively close to Earth’s solar system when Optimus Prime broadcasted his call to action to his fellow Autobots, the drop pod picked up the signal and began an automated course toward Earth– where the closest allied signal had come from. On the way to Earth, Halcyon’s dormant processor was fed the typical information packets about the planet, its inhabitants, and when the pod came within range of Earth’s radio frequencies– all she could learn about the local culture as well. Now, her pod has finally entered the Earth’s solar system, and is rapidly on approach to its target destination, beaming out a signal on Autobot frequencies notifying of a newly forged “youngspark” en route to Earth.

Personality: Scrappy, party animal, sporadic, youthful, distractable, high on life, adrenaline junkie, optimist

Thrill of the Fight: Halcyon is a fighter at her core. Though it doesn’t seem to stem from a place of cruelty, she shows demonstrated eagerness to inflict violence upon her foes. While fighting likely began as a coping mechanism, it’s almost seemingly grown into a form of self-expression for her now.

Party All The Time: Off-duty, it’s easy for any soldier to grow stir-crazy. If she isn’t itching for a fight, she’s itching for a party, which can involve anything from friendly horseplay to midnight joyrides to brilliantly challenging the largest mech in the room to a drinking match.

Bad Reputation: She has a…slight disregard for rules. To her, the war has been treated more like one big bar fight than what it really is. What really gets her in trouble is her apprehension toward authority figures, something not entirely within her control given past abuse. Years of being told exactly how to speak, think, and carry herself under threat of physical punishment or worse have led to a firm dislike of that which evokes a similar sense of bureaucracy, rules, and authority.

Pulp Diction: Mass exposure to popular Earth culture from the late 70s through the mid-90s during stasis has led to her emulation of icons and iconography from that era by developing a pseudo “rockstar” persona of her own. Frequent dated references and (often incorrect) usage of period slang abound for this femme.

I’ve Been Waiting For A Guide To Come: While she certainly values her autonomy and might pretend not to care what anyone else thinks of her most of the time, most of that is all just pomp. Hidden behind the punk rock veneer is a good egg– even if muddled by the fires of rebellious youth. She could have developed any number of harmful complexes after her abuse at the hands of the caste system– but she didn’t. Instead, she developed a strong sense of justice, and a crystal clear understanding of what the right and wrong things to do to a person are. Halcyon genuinely wants to do good, what it all comes down to is a desperate need of the right role models in her life to put her on that path, because at the end of the day: Halcyon just needs someone to give her purpose.

Likes: Loud music, punching things very hard, dancing, engex, bad boys (and girls), popular 70s-90s Earth music and film, roughhousing

Dislikes: Boring/uptight people, bureaucrats, classical Cybertronian music, waiting around, singing, rude staring

Strengths/Weapons:

Whip it Good!: The highlight of her arsenal, Halcyon carries two magnetically powered chain whips each 40 feet in length. The whips are built into her frame, stored within her arms and coiling up to form the bike chain when in alt-mode. When the magnets on the whips are powered to their limit, a single whip is capable of pulling attached objects up to twice Halcyon’s mass– with two whips attached this metric doubles. When the magnets are powered off and being used for their typically intended purpose they can severely lacerate light and medium armor classes and dent heavy armor over time. The magnets charge off Halcyon’s energon reserves when they’re holstered on her back and generally maintain that charge in battle until they’re used on a target that exceeds their weight limit, at which point the charge begins to drain very quickly. Additionally, the whips can be utilized from within her alt-mode to grapple onto and pull objects or better maneuver around her environment without having to transform all the way to do so.

One Hit Wonder: Halcyon knows how to scrap, and that comes in handy when you’re smaller than most. Deceptively tiny, the studs bracketed to her fists are effectively built-in knuckle dusters that can pierce most low-grade armor with a warning shot. Combined in tandem with the force generated by her whips, at the right speed and angle after launching herself at an enemy her knuckle dusters tear and puncture medium armor, wearing sizable holes in just a few blows while devastating light armor panels with single well-placed shots. Heavy armor will not be pierced but can be severely dented with repeated blows. With this crude yet effective style of fighting, Halcyon usually serves as battlefield support– “softening up” targets for her comrades before they deliver the final blow.

Battle Armor: Given that her primary mode of combat is melee-based, Halcyon’s armor set strikes a balance between power and weight without sacrificing too much maneuverability. The traditional medium armor bracing her helm, torso, legs, and wrists protects from most medium and lighter calibers of blaster fire, while the dense inner core of her build makes for a frame adept at absorbing blunt force from non-bladed melee attacks. Halcyon can get smacked around by those twice her size, thrown through walls, and fall from greater heights without experiencing the same damage levels as she would have before her frame was reforged. The end result is a medium armor class that is most adept at withstanding the same blunt-force trauma that would deflate other two-wheelers like coke cans. Large caliber arms and heavy explosives will damage her armor just the same as any other medium armor types.

Dance Til’ You’re Dead: Halcyon’s willpower means more than overall resilience in a fight. It ties heavily into her good spark, morals, and personal history. She’s a strong believer in Prime’s ethos, that those capable must fight to defend those who can’t defend themselves, and moreover, is a strong believer in freedom itself. She knows what it's like to be subject to tyranny, and she sure as hell isn’t going to stop fighting now when so many others are still threatened by it. Halcyon is an Autobot who will fight through the pain until the job is done or she’s dead. If that means going out in a spectacular blaze of glory? Bitchin’, pour one out on her casket.

Cherry Bomb!: Halcyon’s sporadic demeanor lends to a certain kind of unpredictability. Able to think outside of the box and make snap decisions without hesitance, she’s hard to get a read on during fights, and shows good overall performance under pressure. All of these things in conjunction make her a particularly effective melee fighter on the battlefield.

Weaknesses:

Can’t Touch That: While her whips give her some range, she does the most damage up close and personal. She won’t be any use in a fight against long-range weaponry or fliers smart enough to stay outside magnetization distance. Additionally, her reliance on her whips to close distance as well as keep targets at medium range can lead to a drastic decrease in battlefield effectiveness in open spaces if she were ever to lose both of them during a fight.

Stuck On Me: As Halcyon’s whips are an internal mechanism, should anyone get a better hold on them than her, they could potentially be used against her, throwing her around until she regains control over them. This is something she has yet to fully learn though, as she is not yet used to using whips that are built into her frame. In general, this is only usually a potential problem when the magnets are not activated, as the force generated by them whilst active can usually keep her from being overpowered too easily.

Maniac On The Floor: Halcyon’s fatal flaw is her impatience, combined with a short attention span. Often restless and chasing a rush, she feels the need to get in the fight NOW as opposed to hurrying up and waiting. Too long doing nothing and she runs the risk of getting distracted by something else, and losing focus on whatever the last priority was. She’s not suited to more stealthy missions involving tact and patience– why she’s primarily a frontlines fighter. It’s not uncommon that she’ll need to be funneled toward an objective carefully with little to no complications present. She’s at her best with simple directives; a focused: ‘distract this person with punches until they’re unconscious or we need you somewhere else’ will generally yield the best results.

You Don’t Own Me: While it’s something that’s gotten better over time, her distaste for authority figures is still very much a remnant of the past abuse she endured as a “performer,” and has the potential to make or break her missions if not managed by a skillful– and patient servo. Her personal philosophy seems to include some arbitrary “rep level” she abides by. If she respects you, she’ll follow orders without question. If not, it may be like pulling teeth until she decides you’re “on the level.” First impressions are everything to Halcyon, and she often forms these opinions right away.

Claustrophobia: She can’t do small spaces, a remnant of her time on stage– and in tiny dark cells waiting to be fed. Your average drunk tank is a non-issue, but the moment she can’t extend an arm out past elbow length is when the problem begins.

Explosions: She still hasn’t mentally recovered from the attack that nearly killed her, which from her perspective of events might as well have been yesterday. On occasion, the right combination of sudden bright flashes and loud noises resembling an explosion will provoke a short lived panic attack in Halcyon until someone calms her down or she manages to ground herself in the present. The sight and sound of blaster fire will not provoke these attacks.

Special Skills:

Rebel Yell: Forged a singer, Halcyon’s vocalizer has been trained to produce frequencies outside the ranges of the average Cybertronian. It’s a far more subtle quirk than it seems, while she cannot physically damage someone with her voice she could hypothetically “throw” it to confuse in a fight. Generally, she doesn’t use this trait due to a personal dislike of it. It’s only ever used in very specific scenarios or as a “plan B” if the situation warrants it.