Walter grins and gives a light nod of agreement
"I'll have to pick up the slack, or I'll have some catching up to do myself."
: Just don't obsess
too much over this. It's not worth dying for.
"What do you mean, things you come across?"
: You know, guns, bits of uniform, medals... there's a lot of money to be made selling war trophies. I got a few buddies in the Army who are always sending me bits and pieces they looted but don't particularly want to keep, and then I can sell them to a shop or an enthusiast and make quite a bit of extra cash on the side.
Cualli rubs her chin, thinking. "Well, I'd tell you that you have nothing to worry about, but I doubt that would really be of much comfort, would it?" She sighs. "I guess you haven't had a particularly good history with humans, given how cautious you are around them. And, honestly, you have good reason to be wary. But you don't need to be afraid of me. Hell, I got decked in the face for you," she laughs.
: That is true.
Name: Artyom
Nickname: "Revenant"
Age: 26
Piloting Preference: Air-to-ground
Backstory: His family was forced to leave the zentragothorum imperium and flee to NAUC. After graduating pshychology, he decided to join the radio communcations team but it was too "boring" for his taste. After a movie marathon and some years of expensive pilot lessons, Artyom is "ready" for air combat.
Personality: Kind of a two face. Outside the roosterpit he acts like a cool dude that tells jokes, who doesn't really care about what you think of his actions.
Inside the roosterpit is a mentaly insane psychopath that laughs for every enemy parachute gunned down.
It was a historic event, the first time since the war began that the Imperium and the Coalition exchanged anything other than gunfire and insults. All the Imperium asked was that the Coalition would turn over several proven war criminals, and in exchange they would return thrice as many prisoners of war. Already under criticism from their allies and several political groups at home for allowing said servicemembers to continue serving, the President himself signed off on the transfer. Since Artyom's repulsively aloof personality meant he didn't have any friends to speak in his defense, he soon found himself on a prison transport back to his former home.
After what felt like hours of driving, the personnel carrier Artyom and his fellow criminals have been riding in comes to a stop, and the rear ramp falls open. No sooner have his eyes adjusted to the brightness outside than he finds himself being roughly dragged out of the carrier by his captors. The sudden movement causes hm to trip over your feet, and with his hands cuffed behind his back there is nothing he can do but eat pavement.
: [On your feet, scumbag!]
One of the many Imperial troopers standing around bends over and grabs Artyom by the collar to pull him upright, before shoving him over to where the other prisoners have assembled. Looking around, Artyom can recognize all too well the grey skies and brutalist skyline of the Austerran peninsula; and about twenty meters away, the police have put up a barricade to prevent the jeering crowds from charging in and lynching the prisoners where they stand. Before he can gather any more information about his surroundings, he is smacked in the back with the butt of a gun.
: [Eyes front!]
And with that, Artyom and his comrades are marched into the side entrance of the stadium before them, eventually ending up on one of many massive parade grounds the Imperium is known for. The prisoners are ordered to halt while an official-looking fellow standing on an elevated platform finishes giving a speech, and no sooner does he finish than they find themselves forced out onto the field to thunderous booing from the thousands of Imperial citizens observing today's event. Standing a short distance out with their backs facing the crowds are three dozen Imperial troopers in parade dress, wielding bolt action rifles and assorted into two ranks; and across from them is a sturdy concrete wall.
Imperial FanfareArtyom and three other criminals are placed up against the wall with their handcuffs chained to it, facing the bullets and the crowd behind them as the firing squad levels their guns at you. The last thing any of them hear before blacking out is the sound of thousands of people celebrating their removal from the planet.
tl;dr comr4de is right, too coldsteel, try again with less edge
remember: two-faced psychopathy does not equal instant depth (and to be honest it works better if you dont immediately announce "this person is a psychopath")
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