Seneca di Contritio

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OssumBunz

Rabbit of Caerbannog
Nov 30, 2013
285
1
18
33
Caerbannog, duh
Latens
2,239✦
Exa
⏆715
Bounty
⏈0
Dahlitium (⏆50 per)
0⌯
Bigatium (⏆100 per)
0⍨
Auritium (⏆300 per)
0⍫
Vitatium (⏆1200 per)
0⌭
Caelitium (⏆6000 per)
0⌬
Seneca di Contritio - Demvir (Machina)


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Age: 400
Vigor: 2367
Latens: 367
Exa: 300

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For one who does not personally know Seneca di Conritio, the Demvir woman may come across as quiet, strict and rigid when it comes to jobs. If the need be she will spend time making sure that her colleagues keep on track as to not delay a shipment or job with tomfoolery, but that is not to say that she is cold or distant in any way. She is willing to sacrifice her own happiness for the happiness of others and has on more than one occasion.

Those close to her know that there is more to her than a no nonsense attitude; beneath her professional aura is a kind and even loving soul that relishes the company of a great tight knit crew. She displays a softer, more relaxed side of herself with those she considers good friends, capable of having a good time with those around her.

Time has taught Seneca a resigned acceptance of her past mistakes and their consequences. She accepts responsibility for her actions herself, rather than place blame or burden on another, and despite the emotional difficulties in facing her mistakes, she learned to school herself and her emotions as personal struggles, brushing off the concern of others and bearing grief or physical pain with ‘a stiff upper lip’.

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“Sunlight broke through the clouds, throwing shadows long against the ground for only a few moments. Just long enough to dance along the polished steel faceplate. Its design echoing the helms of ancient warriors; only a slit for glowing yellow eyes to perceive the world through. The gap met another between both lit oculi, running down the center of the Demvir’s face exposing the darkness beneath the being’s mask like features.

Female in shape and stance, the automaton’s angle’s were sleek and streamlined; the surface of her limbs nearly smooth to the touch if one dared to do so. Not a piece stood out of place, not a gear to be seen through the joints of her tall, bare legs. Embroidered blue fabric hid most of her form from the knees up, the cloak being somewhat of an eye catcher in its own right.”
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No one can say for sure what the year was when Seneca awoke for the first time, how far underground the people of Araevis had traveled before golden circles of light first peered into the world around them. Even Seneca herself failed to keep track of years spent during her “learning period” or blank state, instead allowing the decades to blur together like a smeared painting. The land was still in its first century, memory of the cataclysm still fresh in the minds of the eldest generation of biological people and wounds still fresh in the landscape.

The world was a confusing place for the people of Araevis, the Demvir in particular, who had no answers for their existence. Like so many others of her kind, Seneca took the word of the fleshy beings that had discovered her, becoming a tool to tirelessly slave away at whatever chore she was given. While not happy, she wasn’t particularly upset by her life for several decades, not until others began to show their disdain towards the treatment of the Demvir.

Years of revolution were well fought and equality in the eyes of the law had been earned, but distrust and emotionally pain remained. Seneca found herself taking odd jobs from those that would hire her for odd jobs, even if the coin wasn’t particularly good.

As the decades trudged on ever changing, many laws were passed, rewritten, or abolished altogether. Prohibitions came and passed, a new only always taking the place of an old one and with them the rise of smugglers not only for the transport of prohibited goods, but for questionable items as a whole. It was during this time in history that Seneca found a new calling for herself.

Having joined countless smuggling crews in the past, the game is old hat to a long lived Demvir such as Seneca. The most recent crew she was a part of was lead by a young twenty something Laicar by the name of Crispin de Brueria. His free spirit, and positive outlook on life drew the automaton to the young man. The two of them shared a relationship for years, but Seneca couldn’t help but feel that such a love was unfair to the bright eyed leader and pushed him away. The two of them were able to salvage a friendship from the ashes of their relationship and eventually Crispin settled down with a sweet Laicar girl with eyes as deep as the oceans.

Decades have passed and the group has long since disbanded, a few of the men and women are but only memories now, lost to various fates but their names still spoken today. Crispin, now in his sixties and with grandchildren at his feet, runs a tavern in Aridus, just beyond the Sea of Occidens.

Unlike those in her past Seneca remains the same as she always has, untouched by time and on the move once more, searching for the next chapter in her centuries long life within the ancient city of Terminus.

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Character Skills
Art of Ingeniarius(The Engineer)-Novice
Way of Pistolii (The Duelist)-Adept
Way of Polybolii (The Gunner)-Novice
Way of Cannonis (The Bomber)-Novice
 
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