Sortz
Outta
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Name: Sortz
Species: Tro'zet
Homeworld: ???
Gender: Female
Height: 2.6m
Build: Gym Rat
Hair: Black
Skin: Olive Green
Eyes: Blue
Age: Adult
Force Sensitive: HA! Hahaha oh you mean for real? No. Very no.
Affiliation: ORC
(+) Stronk - Do you even lift? Sortz does. She doesn't have to, but she does.
(+) Tank - Sortz can take a hit. And another. And another. Really, this is getting kind of silly.
(+) Smart - Brains and brawn? Despite her appearance, Sortz is no mental slouch, especially for a Tro'zet. Not a genius or a savant, but pretty good at what she does. In truth, she's kind of a nerd and would really much rather be left alone to work on this program now, kthnx, no, stop hitting me that's annoying.
(-) Amnesia - While she knows her name and generally how to function, Sortz has no idea who she really is, where she came from, or how she got here. She doesn't even know everything she's good at yet, but she's working on it. It's honestly kind of upsetting, okay?
(-) First Out in Dodge Ball - Sortz isn't really the fast and agile type. She's not running nowhere, and unless she sees it coming from a kilometer away, it's probably going to hit her. You just better hope it's enough to take her down.
(-) Too Big To Be Allowed - Most things aren't made for her size or bulk (yeah we said it). The world is uncomfortably small for Sortz.
(-) Susceptible to Mental Manipulation - Mind tricks and mentalism are more likely to work on Sortz than the average sentient. Just the way the Tro'zet are built.
(-) Crash Test Dummy - Don't. Let. Her. Drive.
Sortz woke up with a pocket full of credits, a tag around her neck that informed her (politely) of her name, and a cybernetic data lock installed in her brain holding Maw only knew what. She can't slice into it, can't pry it out, and is unwilling to risk frying it out of sheer spite. That chunk of metal is sunk in there real good and someone, somewhere, knows what's in it and why.
The same people probably know who she is, and why an overly bulky Tro'zet who can barely fit in a regular sized office chair finds nothing so soothing as lines of code scrolling past in front of her face.
The whole situation strikes Sortz as entirely ridiculous.
And yet, here she is.
Now what?
Name: Sortz
Species: Tro'zet
Homeworld: ???
Gender: Female
Height: 2.6m
Build: Gym Rat
Hair: Black
Skin: Olive Green
Eyes: Blue
Age: Adult
Force Sensitive: HA! Hahaha oh you mean for real? No. Very no.
Affiliation: ORC
(+) Stronk - Do you even lift? Sortz does. She doesn't have to, but she does.
(+) Tank - Sortz can take a hit. And another. And another. Really, this is getting kind of silly.
(+) Smart - Brains and brawn? Despite her appearance, Sortz is no mental slouch, especially for a Tro'zet. Not a genius or a savant, but pretty good at what she does. In truth, she's kind of a nerd and would really much rather be left alone to work on this program now, kthnx, no, stop hitting me that's annoying.
(-) Amnesia - While she knows her name and generally how to function, Sortz has no idea who she really is, where she came from, or how she got here. She doesn't even know everything she's good at yet, but she's working on it. It's honestly kind of upsetting, okay?
(-) First Out in Dodge Ball - Sortz isn't really the fast and agile type. She's not running nowhere, and unless she sees it coming from a kilometer away, it's probably going to hit her. You just better hope it's enough to take her down.
(-) Too Big To Be Allowed - Most things aren't made for her size or bulk (yeah we said it). The world is uncomfortably small for Sortz.
(-) Susceptible to Mental Manipulation - Mind tricks and mentalism are more likely to work on Sortz than the average sentient. Just the way the Tro'zet are built.
(-) Crash Test Dummy - Don't. Let. Her. Drive.
Sortz woke up with a pocket full of credits, a tag around her neck that informed her (politely) of her name, and a cybernetic data lock installed in her brain holding Maw only knew what. She can't slice into it, can't pry it out, and is unwilling to risk frying it out of sheer spite. That chunk of metal is sunk in there real good and someone, somewhere, knows what's in it and why.
The same people probably know who she is, and why an overly bulky Tro'zet who can barely fit in a regular sized office chair finds nothing so soothing as lines of code scrolling past in front of her face.
The whole situation strikes Sortz as entirely ridiculous.
And yet, here she is.
Now what?
