Post by Konja of Clan Korm on Aug 30, 2019 2:21:16 GMT -8
Feels weird doing this all over again so quickly, buuut at least this place is better.
Name: Konja of Clan Korm
Species: Saiyan
Age: 19, plus a few centuries in a glorified Pickle Jar in the Fermented Foods Section
Gender: F
Appearance:
Konja is strongly built, "healthily", some might say, despite her height of 5'7". Curves and muscle in the right places. She has long dark hair and fierce dark eyes. For the most part, she wears a set of dark, leather-like clothes that she picked upsomewhere off the corpse of a dead Kai. Due to said Kai having been shorter than her, the vest exposes her midriff but is otherwise actually quite comfortable, and the pants stop above her knees, being more like shorts, really. Said pants have a really long waist cape, though, and you'd wonder if the Kai either tripped a lot, or spent most of her time levitating. Dark gloves with plated knuckles, presumably best suited for punching. She wears a red band around her left arm, her last memento of her father. Her tail has long been lost to brutal Tuffle experimentation.
Personality:
Konja is a naive farm girl raised in a small Clan Village among the arid wastes of Planet Plant. Most post-agricultural technology is a mystery to her. Medical instruments and computers make her uneasy, as they remind her of the years she spent in Tuffle captivity. Experimentation during said captivity has also given her the occasional whimsical idea that probably doesn't make a lot of common sense. Her vocabulary is a limited one, and she tends to struggle with new words and meanings, frequently malapropping them.
Like any Saiyan, she enjoys a great fight and a gigantic meal. But beyond that, she sees combat as a means of proving her worth. As a low-class warrior, she fights to bring honour to her Clan, in the hopes that they would rise from the poverty of low class status. Being unfamiliar with the reputation her race has achieved throughout the universe, she particularly lacks a Saiyan pride per se, but holds one focused on her Clan, that they have what it takes to become elite warriors.
Racially speaking, the sheer diversity of the various species around the universe would astound her. But to discover that one is a Tuffle will surely draw a murderous sentiment. For obvious reasons.
History:
A humble yam farmer hailing from the boondocks of Saiyan territory prior to the War for Planet Plant. Konja was the only child of a low class warrior, Yakku of Clan Korm. Her father always had something of a chip on his shoulder, as her kinsmen would say. Having enlisted in Vegeta I's army, he would constantly throw himself and his squad into suicidal missions. As the strongest combatant to be found in the Clan, he saw it as his duty to raise them out of the depths of low class status.
This eventually came back to bite him, when his squad finally bit off more than they could chew, and met catastrophic results. Yakku was the sole survivor of the incident, his entire squad, Korm kinsmen and his mate, perishing in the travesty. Though ultimately successful, he was maimed beyond service, and was discharged with honour for his colourful mission record.
Disallowed from serving as a warrior due to serious disability and left to care for his only child, Yakku decided he was simply not prepared enough, and raised her on the idea of striving to become his superior.
Konja grew up with a single-minded purpose, to become an elite and in doing so bring honour to her Clan.
From a younger age than usual, Konja was taught the art of close combat. And while her father had lost his dominant arm in that grueling ordeal, his experience was invaluable. When they were not working the yams, they were training endlessly, in preparation for a future where Konja would elevate the humble Clan Korm out of low class poverty.
Taking volunteers from the other members of Korm Village, they worked to build an effective militia that would one day serve in the King's Army as those warriors who did before them. They would participate in tournaments with neighbouring villages, cross-train, and venture to the Capital to watch the Army's training exercises.
One day, when Konja was 12, a message arrived. All Militias were to rally at the Capital for a major operation. This was their opportunity to become known.
And so, with heads held high, the Militia of Clan Korm marched to the Capital. That same night, King Vegeta declared war on the Tuffles. The Militias would lead the charge.
Divided into small two-man teams, they harassed Tuffle military formations, loosening them up for the Army to deliver decisive blows. It was a dream come true.
And just as quickly, it all came crashing down.
Perhaps it was because she began to underestimate the Tuffles. Or perhaps the Tuffles were adapting to their strategies. But either way, one night, about a year into the war, Konja was deployed on a solo operation to reconnoiter a suspected Tuffle base, and eliminate it if necessary. It seemed simple enough...
Until the base unveiled its deadly secret: an army of networked, intelligent AI-driven battle mechs equipped with radical weaponry and advanced shielding. It was completely leagues ahead of the troops and mechs they were facing out in the field. Almost as though a significant amount of resources was being put into this instead... With their superior numbers and surprising new firepower and resilience, Konja was overpowered and captured.
She was shipped off to an offworld facility... On some distant moon, not that she could understand what that meant.
Here, Konja found herself in the company of a large number of Saiyans... the kind who couldn't effectively fight back. Children, non-combatants, the elderly... Taken about a year earlier, they said. On the night the war began, the Tuffles raided their defenseless villages and took them in great numbers, killing those who couldn't be captured. They were isolated from each other, and each of the several dozen Saiyans that she could see represented a similar number of settlements.
For six years, Konja and her fellow captives were exposed to heinous experiments of various purposes... To understand, to exploit, to replicate, or even improve... It was all the same to her. And it cemented in her mind that their cause was righteous. The Tuffles were cruel creatures who used machinery without heart, and King Vegeta was fully justified in declaring war on them.
And so for six years, Konja made herself a nuisance, training up her fellow inmates to fight. By the time they locked her up in a cryo pod, she had led half a dozen failed uprisings and personally injured, maimed, or even killed twice as many guards.
Her last thoughts before falling into oblivion were of escape. And vengeance.
Centuries went by. The War was won, and her kinsmen moved on. Clan Korm made its way up the ladder, from low class, and finally breaking out into the middle class and even elites. King Cold and Emperor Frieza would come and ultimately destroy the world. But Konja would sleep through it all. Her time would come soon enough...
RP Sample:
"Number 43, was it?" The Tuffle's eyes traced her form with a cold, calculating air.
When they met gazes, Konja glared. Her words were slow, intentional. "I answer to Konja of Clan Korm. Scout of the Korm Village Militia." Even with this strange collar around her neck, which appeared to suppress her ki, and these energy cuffs around her wrists, she would not be intimidated.
"Mhm, yes." The Tuffle nodded dismissively. This one was different, dressed in some sort of formal regalia, much more like the uniform of the soldiers she fought, than the white coats of their science workers. Clearly, she was some sort of military officer of some sort. "How did you enjoy the MANGOES?"
Even when asked a question, Konja remained stone faced. She couldn't help but ask her own, though. "MANGOES?"
"Mobile Automaton Networked for Global Operations," The Officer smirked in satisfaction. "Those mechs that captured you. Our new little toy. What do you think?"
"They are wily. Dishonourable."
"And truly frustrating to fight, yes?" The Officer went on. "When you try to attack one, another interrupts you. When you try to attack them all at once, they adapt and prevent you from doing so."
Konja clenched her fists, nails digging deep into her palms. This Tuffle was gloating about how her machines had outwitted a Saiyan warrior. A child, sure, but a warrior no less. "A handful of your filthy machines won't save you from the might of the King's Army."
"Oh yes, absolutely." The Officer nodded, apparently unfazed by the comment despite agreeing with her. "But you see, my dear, our Organisation was not established to win this war. We were created to ensure the survival of the Tuffle race."
The Saiyan blinked. "I see no difference. You will lose this war, and your race will be destroyed."
The Officer smirked again. "And that, Number 43, is where you are sorely mistaken..." At a simple hand gesture, the heavily armed and armoured guards flanked Konja and took her back to her cell.
Referred by:
Cayle Pota
Name: Konja of Clan Korm
Species: Saiyan
Age: 19, plus a few centuries in a glorified Pickle Jar in the Fermented Foods Section
Gender: F
Appearance:
Konja is strongly built, "healthily", some might say, despite her height of 5'7". Curves and muscle in the right places. She has long dark hair and fierce dark eyes. For the most part, she wears a set of dark, leather-like clothes that she picked up
Personality:
Konja is a naive farm girl raised in a small Clan Village among the arid wastes of Planet Plant. Most post-agricultural technology is a mystery to her. Medical instruments and computers make her uneasy, as they remind her of the years she spent in Tuffle captivity. Experimentation during said captivity has also given her the occasional whimsical idea that probably doesn't make a lot of common sense. Her vocabulary is a limited one, and she tends to struggle with new words and meanings, frequently malapropping them.
Like any Saiyan, she enjoys a great fight and a gigantic meal. But beyond that, she sees combat as a means of proving her worth. As a low-class warrior, she fights to bring honour to her Clan, in the hopes that they would rise from the poverty of low class status. Being unfamiliar with the reputation her race has achieved throughout the universe, she particularly lacks a Saiyan pride per se, but holds one focused on her Clan, that they have what it takes to become elite warriors.
Konja was never much of a people person. Even among her Clan, she kept mostly to herself and her father, making excuses to leave social gatherings around the bonfire in order to train alone. Talking situations make her uncomfortable, and she has trouble meeting new people. As a result, her speech tends to be stilted and awkwardly formal, at least until she starts to mellow out to the person in question. Combined with her small vocabulary, let's just say there's a reason she'd prefer training alone.
Racially speaking, the sheer diversity of the various species around the universe would astound her. But to discover that one is a Tuffle will surely draw a murderous sentiment. For obvious reasons.
History:
A humble yam farmer hailing from the boondocks of Saiyan territory prior to the War for Planet Plant. Konja was the only child of a low class warrior, Yakku of Clan Korm. Her father always had something of a chip on his shoulder, as her kinsmen would say. Having enlisted in Vegeta I's army, he would constantly throw himself and his squad into suicidal missions. As the strongest combatant to be found in the Clan, he saw it as his duty to raise them out of the depths of low class status.
This eventually came back to bite him, when his squad finally bit off more than they could chew, and met catastrophic results. Yakku was the sole survivor of the incident, his entire squad, Korm kinsmen and his mate, perishing in the travesty. Though ultimately successful, he was maimed beyond service, and was discharged with honour for his colourful mission record.
Disallowed from serving as a warrior due to serious disability and left to care for his only child, Yakku decided he was simply not prepared enough, and raised her on the idea of striving to become his superior.
Konja grew up with a single-minded purpose, to become an elite and in doing so bring honour to her Clan.
From a younger age than usual, Konja was taught the art of close combat. And while her father had lost his dominant arm in that grueling ordeal, his experience was invaluable. When they were not working the yams, they were training endlessly, in preparation for a future where Konja would elevate the humble Clan Korm out of low class poverty.
Taking volunteers from the other members of Korm Village, they worked to build an effective militia that would one day serve in the King's Army as those warriors who did before them. They would participate in tournaments with neighbouring villages, cross-train, and venture to the Capital to watch the Army's training exercises.
One day, when Konja was 12, a message arrived. All Militias were to rally at the Capital for a major operation. This was their opportunity to become known.
And so, with heads held high, the Militia of Clan Korm marched to the Capital. That same night, King Vegeta declared war on the Tuffles. The Militias would lead the charge.
Divided into small two-man teams, they harassed Tuffle military formations, loosening them up for the Army to deliver decisive blows. It was a dream come true.
And just as quickly, it all came crashing down.
Perhaps it was because she began to underestimate the Tuffles. Or perhaps the Tuffles were adapting to their strategies. But either way, one night, about a year into the war, Konja was deployed on a solo operation to reconnoiter a suspected Tuffle base, and eliminate it if necessary. It seemed simple enough...
Until the base unveiled its deadly secret: an army of networked, intelligent AI-driven battle mechs equipped with radical weaponry and advanced shielding. It was completely leagues ahead of the troops and mechs they were facing out in the field. Almost as though a significant amount of resources was being put into this instead... With their superior numbers and surprising new firepower and resilience, Konja was overpowered and captured.
She was shipped off to an offworld facility... On some distant moon, not that she could understand what that meant.
Here, Konja found herself in the company of a large number of Saiyans... the kind who couldn't effectively fight back. Children, non-combatants, the elderly... Taken about a year earlier, they said. On the night the war began, the Tuffles raided their defenseless villages and took them in great numbers, killing those who couldn't be captured. They were isolated from each other, and each of the several dozen Saiyans that she could see represented a similar number of settlements.
For six years, Konja and her fellow captives were exposed to heinous experiments of various purposes... To understand, to exploit, to replicate, or even improve... It was all the same to her. And it cemented in her mind that their cause was righteous. The Tuffles were cruel creatures who used machinery without heart, and King Vegeta was fully justified in declaring war on them.
And so for six years, Konja made herself a nuisance, training up her fellow inmates to fight. By the time they locked her up in a cryo pod, she had led half a dozen failed uprisings and personally injured, maimed, or even killed twice as many guards.
Her last thoughts before falling into oblivion were of escape. And vengeance.
Centuries went by. The War was won, and her kinsmen moved on. Clan Korm made its way up the ladder, from low class, and finally breaking out into the middle class and even elites. King Cold and Emperor Frieza would come and ultimately destroy the world. But Konja would sleep through it all. Her time would come soon enough...
RP Sample:
"Number 43, was it?" The Tuffle's eyes traced her form with a cold, calculating air.
When they met gazes, Konja glared. Her words were slow, intentional. "I answer to Konja of Clan Korm. Scout of the Korm Village Militia." Even with this strange collar around her neck, which appeared to suppress her ki, and these energy cuffs around her wrists, she would not be intimidated.
"Mhm, yes." The Tuffle nodded dismissively. This one was different, dressed in some sort of formal regalia, much more like the uniform of the soldiers she fought, than the white coats of their science workers. Clearly, she was some sort of military officer of some sort. "How did you enjoy the MANGOES?"
Even when asked a question, Konja remained stone faced. She couldn't help but ask her own, though. "MANGOES?"
"Mobile Automaton Networked for Global Operations," The Officer smirked in satisfaction. "Those mechs that captured you. Our new little toy. What do you think?"
"They are wily. Dishonourable."
"And truly frustrating to fight, yes?" The Officer went on. "When you try to attack one, another interrupts you. When you try to attack them all at once, they adapt and prevent you from doing so."
Konja clenched her fists, nails digging deep into her palms. This Tuffle was gloating about how her machines had outwitted a Saiyan warrior. A child, sure, but a warrior no less. "A handful of your filthy machines won't save you from the might of the King's Army."
"Oh yes, absolutely." The Officer nodded, apparently unfazed by the comment despite agreeing with her. "But you see, my dear, our Organisation was not established to win this war. We were created to ensure the survival of the Tuffle race."
The Saiyan blinked. "I see no difference. You will lose this war, and your race will be destroyed."
The Officer smirked again. "And that, Number 43, is where you are sorely mistaken..." At a simple hand gesture, the heavily armed and armoured guards flanked Konja and took her back to her cell.
Referred by:
Cayle Pota