Demeanor: Casta is… calling her eccentric is accurate and intelligent as well. But she has a major flaw in that intelligence. She doesn’t know how to word things, whether those things be questions or statements, her lack of wording skills can make her, at times, appear a little… not as intelligent as she is. Prone to tangents where she explains things in detail or denounces others, she can be, at times, annoying. And that annoyance is probably only amplified by the girl’s deteriorated sense of empathy.
Nature: Casta is a smart girl, she can think hard and well, that type of thinking has made her less empathetic. She doesn’t care as much about the individual, in most cases, and her sense of humanity, of boundaries, doesn’t exist. She’s like a machine. Logical. She hadn’t always been like that. And maybe deep down, there’s that sense of humanity lying in wait.
Description: Casta is a tan Filipino girl, so, like most women from the Phillipines, she has a rounded face with lively eyes with a wideish nose. She has neither a white complexion nor a dark skintone, rather, the tan look familiar to most islanders that’s clear and somewhere inbetween light and dark on the complexion scale.
She stands at roughly 6 feet and in terms of body shape is extremely well endowed for her age… whether that's also a cyborg implant or just genetic luck though, is anyone's guess. Perhaps, her most eye catching feature are her arms in that often she’ll have two. Why is that eye catching? Well when she doesn’t have two arms, she has none, instead there’s just a little half-dome of metal sticking out where someone’s shoulder would meet their torso. When she does have arms, well, they’re slightly different than most in that they’re mechanical. Prosthetic limbs. And she has many different kinds though, most of the time, in public, she’ll have on her casual set of arms. Which look like human arms made out of a white plastic looking metal with red LEDs running along them. Other times she’ll have on her product of boredom ones, which look like the casual set, if the casual set was some sort of entertainment product.
HP and Psyche start at 6, can't raise during creation, but add 1/2 of Brawn to HP.
Brawn, Agility and Brains start at 1 each, starting cap 4, total cap 6, and you get 5 points to distribute among them.
- Hit Like A Truck - (4) Brawn (Melee Combat)
- Flexibility - (3) Agility (Ranged Defense)
- Academics - (3) Brains (General Knowledge)
- Perception - (4) Brains (Noticing things)
Skill Replacements From Powers
- First Aid - (4) Brains (Biological Tinkering)
Mechanical Tinkering - 5
Something has awoken with Casta, allowing her to have intimate knowledge of machinery and the know-how when it comes to building them. This includes not only engineering, but also programming as well. Mind you, everything still takes time and she can’t do anything instantaneous. Well, she can automate it, but everything requires framework. Maybe one day, she can have a factory to produce any and everything she can dream up, but, right now? She’s just a tinkering mechanic.
Biological Tinkering - 4
If you get down to it, humans are just biological machines. As such, to Casta they’re not that different when it comes to modifying or creating. Of course, some things, like brains or muscles, are too complex for her, at the moment at least. Things like bacteria or plant life though? Child’s play. Even things that would seem normally weird, like trees that grow fruits made of pure iron, are within the realm of possibility when it comes to this form of biological tinkering!
Body Modifications - 2
The human body can only really maintain so much without a bit of tweaking and this power represents Casta's progress in that 'tweaking' phase. Casta can only have a number of useful 'upgrades' (AKA mechanical replacements) equal to this power. Miscellaneous/Required/otherwise useless upgrades aren't counted into this. (IE: Gravlifts, which are required for her arms to function.)
Arms: (All arms are capable of feeling touch unless stated otherwise)
Architect Set- A pair of arms with multiple tools hidden in the fingers, including a screwdriver, a weak blowtorch, and various other handheld tools. This set lacks the sense of touch.
Ravager Set- A pair of massive diesel powered arms. Give a +1 to Brawn and a -1 to agility and a -2 to all checks that require dextrous finger movements… since she has knife fingers. KNIFE FINGERS.
Casual Set- A pair of arms that greatly resemble human ones, made out of white metal with red LED lights and… well… Alright, Casta will be the first to admit it. The LEDs are just there to make it look cool, alright!?
Product of Boredom- An arm based on the Casual Set, only this one has speakers in the shoulders and a digital mixer on the forearm, as well as headphones located above the speakers for more private songs… and more than a few game emulators and roms installed on it as well as internet and bluetooth. Look, girl gotta have some way to pass the time.
Full-Load Man To Machine Interfact (M2MI)- The M2MI is a port located between Casta's shoulder blades. This biomechanical piece is implanted into her spine and, when connected to a piece of machinery, allows her to control it as if it were her own body. It also allows her to have a spacial awareness of where it currently is (Though, this doesn't let her feel through the machine if it doesn't have the capability.) It has a universal plug to plug into most modern technology. (Note: This does not take up a back slot UNLESS it isn't wired up to anything. For example: If Casta can have this and a jetpack [In which case, the jetpack is hooked up to the M2MI] but while wearing said jetpack, she can't hook the M2MI up to anything else.)
Gravlifts- Shoulder-joint replacements that make all Arms the same weight as normal arms while it’s active. Runs off the arms power supply. All arms are hooked up to this!
Forequartered Mechanical- Casta has lost both of her arms, the bone cut away just at the meeting point of her acromion and her scapular Spine meet on either side. She has to recharge these arms daily or else they stop functioning, making checks requiring fine control, hand-based combat, or any that she couldn’t do with her mouth or feet, automatic failures. She also suffers this penalty to any and all deft or dexterous actions. While recharging, Casta is unable to use her arms. Of course, this also applies when they are hit by some sort of electromagnetic pulse or are generally removed. Due to the arm’s weight when disabled, she takes a -1 to all agility-based checks as well.
In essence, when the arms cannot function, she fails any and all tasks that would involve the use of hands or arms and takes a -1.
List everything your character carries on their person here. Be reasonable.
- A Spiderbot w/ expanded central space to function as a backpack
- A Smartphone
And everything that they keep in their dorm at SunnyBrook. Anything that's not listed here or in the section above will be difficult for the character to retrieve.
- A carnivorous tree that produces one cherry-sized ball of iron per day
- A Spiderbot
- Various pieces of dismantled electronics or machinery
- Science Equipment
Casta Azis Arcega was born on July 23, 2004 in the Philippines to a pair of loving parents. The youngest of three with two older brothers, Casta was frequently treated like the baby of the family and was a bit of a tomboy. Her father worked in a factory that was slowly but surely laying people off in exchange for the new mechanized builders and her mother taught in a local school, leaving her to be watched by her brothers in her younger years.
Many days were spent with them hiding or playing around the city, games of hide and seek spent in their parent’s ratty old car that was frequently under repairs by Casta and her father. It was, admittedly, a death trap. But her parents refused to let that 1974 Z28 Camaro die away. So, she watched them work and helped out whenever she could! Even putting in the last piece that made it putter back to life!
As she grew, she drove that car whenever she could, especially as she aged and neared fifteen, managing to pass as a sixteen year old. The car broke down a few times, but Casta remembered growing up and working on it daily with her father, in fact, that’s what sparked her love of machinery and mechanics. One such day, she was driving with her family at the side, her brother constantly complaining that the cops were going to pull them over and they’d go to prison for letting a fifteen year old drive. She turned her head partway to the side to reply when she heard her father scream out something at the top of his lungs, and everything went white.
She remembered, vaguely, her body feeling hot. But what stuck out was the ringing in her ears, the painful noise that rung out higher than anything should, her whole body ached as she looked around, white fading and her blurry vision slowly coming back. One eye ached, and she went to raise a hand to feel but, it wouldn’t. She turned her head and felt pain ache through her body, like a hammer striking her head. She looked and saw the source of the pain, one arm was missing, blown from its socket. She realized, at that moment, she had been holding her breath, and she leaned forward and puked out a mess of her lunch that was lined in red blood. She shuddered out a breath, one eye still closed before she looked over at the other side and saw that arm barely fared better. From the elbow down, her arm was missing, phantom signals running down. The upper part was charred black and didn’t reply, nerves and muscles burnt but not blown off. Her sense of smell returned slowly, and a mix of burning bodies, flesh, and feces assaulted her nostrils as she didn’t dare look around.
It was strange, really. She looked out over rubble, rubble… at least it wasn’t a car accident? No. This was worse. She could recognize from pictures and games that this was some sort of massive explosion. But, well, despite remembering how busy the street was, seeing blood and cars splattered about, she felt… almost disconnected. She closed her eyes. Maybe because this was some cruel afterlife? No, she still felt the burning and shattering all of her body, the pain that assaulted every nerve that ached and burned with pain. She breathed out a shaky breath. She was alive, which somehow made this feel worse. It made her feel like some kind of character in a game, so disconnected from slaughter that was evident. She looked at her arm again, then back out over the wreckage of cars and convience stores. She needed something to keep her mind of these thoughts of disconnection, this alien feeling of apathy towards the mass of dead innocents. She looked at her stump of a forearm and slowly, things started to fade into a sort of cold understanding, clarity through horror.
It didn’t matter if she survived whatever that bombing was. She was dead anyways, right? Trapped inside the tomb of a crashed car, without any arms and, judging by the warm seeping from one eye, her left eye was damaged as well. This damnable car, this thing she and her late-father had spent years fixing had been her- fixing. Repairing. The car was a machine, a horribly repaired one. But weren’t humans machines too? They were similar on some level, right? Prosthetics existed, not good ones, but this car hadn’t been good before she started working on it. She moved her head moving it over to dislodge some shrapnel in her shoulder, feeling her teeth on the hot metal, feeling the burning in their nerves as she moved her head and ripped it out. That’s right. Humans are machines. Machines can be repaired with parts. She could be repaired too. She just needed parts. She rose her feet and pushed with her knees against the car door, all of her muscles screaming in protest before the door buckled, shifted, and ultimately slid down with a loud banging as it scraped against her half-shredded jeans.
Parts. Parts. She needed parts right? The other people here? No… too damaged. Even if, well, she wouldn’t be happy using other people’s limbs as her replacements, but similar parts were beneficial, right? Easier to make compatible. No. No, she couldn’t risk using these damaged par-people. These were people, not parts. She had to remind herself of that, her head felt hot and ached just as much as her body, looking around at all the blood and corpses. Yeah. She couldn’t use people as parts. No, too unfamiliar. Too broken as well. No, she needed something else. Something malleable, useable as is.
She looked at the half destroyed engine and sighed. She’d need smaller parts than that. Yeah. She needed to go and find some kind of small vehicle or electronics. Odds are, they were evacuating nearby apartments already, right? Or they already have been evacuated. God, this is what she gets for not watching the news. She read online about this kind of stuff, but, well, that had always been in America or Europe. Not in the Phillipines.
Casta moved forward with a limp, stumbling once and then taking extra care to move slowly and carefully. She couldn’t risk falling, getting up would require too much energy… energy. How would she handle her prosthetics energy? Gasoline would be easily obtainable… no, she’d worry about long term solutions later. Not right now. Right now she needed something temporary, something fleeting to use to function. Size wouldn’t matter, would it? No, not for these temporary ones. For her future, more permanent fixtures?
A small laugh escaped her lips, a single one that seemed to echo off the smoldering that had otherwise kept the ruins from being silenced. The future? Was there one? The cynical realism came back, flooding her mind before she shook her head. Don’t think about the future or the present. Focus on what’s around. Find something… there.
A block away, a man had been driving a moped. Normally, Costa would’ve laughed at the sight. They were just so funny! Who would actually drive one of those… now though? Now she looked at it with a smile, limping over and squatting down… how to open this? She heard sirens and cursed beneath her breath, heading for an alley. She had to survive, right? They would interview her, learn how she was driving underage… No. She had to escape. Plus they wouldn’t let her use tools, make her new prosthetics.
Again, that feeling of alien disconnect, like someone looking at a picture of some horrible atrocity and going “Oh. That’s sad.” and then moving on like nothing had happened. That struck within her again, growing and building until she used looked at a fence. The police would, no doubt, search the area. She needed to climb. She moved forward, biting her teeth into the railing and sticking her nub of a forearm in it before slowly ascending at a painful crawling pace. She managed to fall to the other side and ran. The streets were empty now, which is a plus. People died in a bombing, that left the rest, those that either heard it or heard about it, to hole up in their houses. Windows were shattered, which was unfortunate, until Casta saw something that made her grin from ear to ear. A used car lot. She limped as fast as she could and went to the back, where they would repair ones they had bought or add new bells and whistles to the less wanted ones, propping them into the eyes of would be buyers. She looked, the windows on /these/ were shattered as well. Perfect. She looked around, spying tools that had been blown off shelves and racks, spare parts littering the grounds. A smile grew onto her face. Then, she went to work.
Saying it took hours would be a gross underestimation of Casta’s particular… talents. Ones she never knew she had. But, it did take hours. Skill, regardless of the level or focus, is limited by resources. And while her /resources/ were surplus, the methods of using them were… less so. She lacked arms, and found her task to be impossible. So, she did the alternative. Rather than make herself an arm, she made an entire body. A small, four legged spider the size of a football, a real football, not the stupid American kind, and had jerry-rigged it to a USB port on a computer in the repair shop, before scrapping that all together and instead implanting the computer’s hard drive into the spider. Was spider the right term? It only had four legs. It didn’t matter, the mechanical /drone/ (spider name pending) was more nimble, she took the liberty of tearing a phone apart and rewiring it into the drone as well, controlling it via bluetooth to build and install her new arm. Which took even longer, due to the slow process of individually imputing every single movement to the drone. The installation process was even worse, due to the pain, but a part of her was happy about the precision the drone had. It took a while, but she eventually managed to get a robotic arm. A clusmy, ragged thing with wires coming out in a way that was completely hideous. It looked like the harley davidson of prosthetic limbs.
It was a horrible thing, a horrible horrible one. She went outside and looked
around… at some point in her work, day was turned to night. Her diesel powered arm was noisy, that weird brrrm of its makeshift engine that was quieter than most… but still not silent. She started to head out! Her family was dead. Her arms were gone.
Over the next week, she made a second massive, clawed arm, which she began to referring as her ‘ravagers’ and over time, made a second of her four-legged spiderbots before refining the arms over a few days, scavenging and using her drones to steal food. Over the days, her massive arms were reduced and refined, turned to a human size and even given senses of touch by, well, it was a difficult process and probably too complex to understand.
One day, she was sending a spiderbot to steal food and, once said machine returned, she found herself being met by the Global Watch Unit. Her new arms were much too delicate, at the moment at least, so she was forced to follow come along with them to the school called Sunnybrook.
23 XP Total
3 XP Remaining
-4 on Power Boost
-4 on Moving Towards Perfection
-4 on Learning New Tricks
-4 on Toughen Up
-4 on Power Boost