Athmos

This is extremely neat, but I hold these personality tests with a grain of salt. While they all sound very good(exluding a few of the vague ones), I bet if the characters themselves took the test, they would all get something different from above.

It'll spur some activity, I'm sure.

I have a Matoran in Le-Koro that needs to go. Wanna take him? Take him. Wanna kill him? Kill him. Just let me know. Otherwise I'm just gonna erase him.

IC: Nurrad, Thomast A Vortixx ran quietly across the broken pavement of the streets. There was ample enough people to fix the roads outside the Grand Hotel, but nobody bothered. City was coming down around them, why create the illusion of hope? It was pointless. Nurrad just wanted to get off this city, and far away from here. She leaped over small barricade. Those things were all over the place, in the desperate, last hours of the government’s attempts to keep order. Now, they were nothing but roadblocks and good for hiding behind. As she came up to the hotel, she slowed her pace, lightly kicking a few loose rocks around. A small, but loud groan flew through the doors of the Grand Hotel as she entered. It seemed as if somebody just lost at a drinking game. Those were fun to watch, but Nurrad didn’t enjoy partaking in them. Something about the drink these days made her ill. Avoiding the bar and the drinkers, Nurrad slipped into a booth on the far wall from both. She kept an eye on the other beings before turning her eyes front. A large piece of paper, being held up by tan hands, met her gaze. “Can you believe this, Nurrad? Rubble prices have dropped for the 62nd week in a row!” the voice behind the paper announced. A small sound as if somebody was jabbing the paper also resounded. “Water is at an all time high, and it looks as if this is the time to sell any pieces of metal you own. I think the prices will be dropping soon.” Nurrad propped her head up with one hand and sighed. “What are you going on about Thomast?” The paper was folded down revealing a Glatorian, of middle-age, with gray hair, clean face, and hazel eyes. One could call him handsome, if one was interested in Glatorians pass their prime. “This, Nurrad,” he slapped the paper with the back of his hand, “is the problem. The market is far too unstable to support a city here.” Nurrad rolled her eyes. Thomast was a visionary and a dreamer. He was certain that the city could come back from ruin, and he was currently the editor, writer, and publisher of The Grand Hotel Times, a collection of obituaries, market prices, and essays on how to improve life. “Thomast, come on...” Thomast shook his head slowly. “I know you don’t think the same as I, Nurrad, but with enough support, we could begin rebuilding this city, block by block.” “With enough support, we could make a blimp and float away.” Thomast frowned, shrugged his shoulders and went back to reading his newspaper. Nurrad leaned against the back of the booth and crossed her arms, looking over at the other beings. Their actions were often more amusing than Thomast’s companionship. OOC: A little long, but just to give y'all a good idea of them both. Ish.

Name: Nurrad Sex: Female Species: Vortixx Powers: Enhanced Hearing(Via implant) Skills: Single-handed sword training, hand-to-hand combat training, mechanical training. Equipment: Katana, Water pouch-backpack, sunglasses. Appearance: Nurrad stands about 7’ tall, and is extremely slim, leading one to think she is starving herself. Her body is a dark green, which slowly turns into a light gray at her neck and head. Her eyes are neon red, but are normally covered by her glasses. She wears some light armor, leather, on her arms and legs, but keeps her torso unprotected. Personality: Like a sword-wielding, sunglass wearing, Vortixx acts. History: When the city died, Nurrad was in her element. Always a fan of stories surrounding the end of the world, Nurrad built a variety of skills that have to do with survival. It was difficult at first, and she nearly died several times in the early days, but now, she’s adapted well to the harsh reality around her, and wants nothing less than to get off this ###### city alive. Catch phase: “I’m getting off this ###### city alive.” _____________________ Name: Thomast Jerffarson Sex: Male Species: Glatorian Powers: None Skills: Expert swordsman, expert marksman, expert rider, expert writer Equipment: Quill, Ink, Parchment, Short Sword Appearance: Tomast stands at 6’2” tall, with hazel eyes and a very firm step, like that of a soldier’s. His chest is slightly broad, indicting strength and health. He wears very formal clothing, including a waistcoat, trousers, socks, and what appear to be riding boots, for reasons unknown. Personality: Thomast Jerffarson is one to control his temper at all times, and only unleashes it when the time calls for it. He is normally cool, collected, and silent, not partaking in large parties or loud discussions. He prefers reading over anything else, and is known for never giving up on a plan, idea, or a friend. History: Tomast Jerffarson was a writer at a newspaper when the city failed. He was one of the people responsible for spreading the news, good and bad. The very fact he stayed inside the newspaper building was what kept him alive during the early hours of the riots. Who would steal from a newspaper, after all? These days, Thomast Jerffarson has taken it upon himself to document the final days of the city, for future civilizations to find. Catch phase: “We the people of this city, have vowed to see it to its end, and to prevent all enemies, domestic or foreign, from bringing about an early end to its life.”

Thank you!

Characters. Personalities are a little slim, but I've never been one to write a large personality page, as I like to see where the character takes me versus where I take the character. Name: Nurrad Sex: Female Species: Vortixx Powers: Enhanced Hearing(Via implant) Skills: Single-handed sword training, hand-to-hand combat training, mechanical training. Equipment: Katana, Water pouch-backpack, sunglasses. Appearance: Nurrad stands about 7’ tall, and is extremely slim, leading one to think she is starving herself. Her body is a dark green, which slowly turns into a light gray at her neck and head. Her eyes are neon red, but are normally covered by her glasses. She wears some light armor, leather, on her arms and legs, but keeps her torso unprotected. Personality: Like a sword-wielding, sunglass wearing, Vortixx acts. History: When the city died, Nurrad was in her element. Always a fan of stories surrounding the end of the world, Nurrad built a variety of skills that have to do with survival. It was difficult at first, and she nearly died several times in the early days, but now, she’s adapted well to the harsh reality around her, and wants nothing less than to get off this city alive. Catch phase: “I’m getting off this city alive.” _____________________ Name: Thomast Jerffarson Sex: Male Species: Glatorian Powers: None Skills: Expert swordsman, expert marksman, expert rider, expert writer Equipment: Quill, Ink, Parchment, Short Sword Appearance: Tomast stands at 6’2” tall, with hazel eyes and a very firm step, like that of a soldier’s. His chest is slightly broad, indicting strength and health. He wears very formal clothing, including a waistcoat, trousers, socks, and what appear to be riding boots, for reasons unknown. Personality: Thomast Jerffarson is one to control his temper at all times, and only unleashes it when the time calls for it. He is normally cool, collected, and silent, not partaking in large parties or loud discussions. He prefers reading over anything else, and is known for never giving up on a plan, idea, or a friend. History: Tomast Jerffarson was a writer at a newspaper when the city failed. He was one of the people responsible for spreading the news, good and bad. The very fact he stayed inside the newspaper building was what kept him alive during the early hours of the riots. Who would steal from a newspaper, after all? These days, Thomast Jerffarson has taken it upon himself to document the final days of the city, for future civilizations to find. Catch phase: “We the people of this city, have vowed to see it to its end, and to prevent all enemies, domestic or foreign, from bringing about an early end to its life.”

IC: Merzt Merzt headed back home. His home was like most other Le-Matoran homes; a bee-hive shaped hut, with a single, open doorway with a window perhaps. Merzt had a window, but it was filled with a few potted flowers. Merzt adored flowers. Pretty little things, with various smells. They made him happy when he saw them. He stepped inside the doorway and lit a torch hanging on the wall. It brought lit to the small hut, and all his possessions. There was his bed, run-of-the-mill style. He had a few pieces of metal art he made himself. Nothing good, but Merzt figured it was a good idea to at least try.

IC: Kaheri Kaheri sat in the corner of the dark, little bar. He drank his cheap little liquor silently and slowly. He didn’t have an idea what he would do next, but there always were beings seeking other beings to do their work. Whether dirty or not, Kaheri would take it. He needed to be active again. He sallowed a large gulp of the liquor. He was part of a team once; three Skakdi, two Toa, and about seven Vortixx. They were, in some twisted way, a happy family. Then the other Skakdi, all three of them, betrayed the team to some Makuta followers. Kaheri survived, barely. He crawled into a hallow tree, waited eight days, and managed to get help from a Matoran caravan. Yes, Kaheri needed to be active again. He had three targets in mind. IC: Shomdud Shomdud walked around Po-Koro slowly, taking in the sights. For a desert village, it wasn’t that hot. Warm, yes, but not so hot to make him sweat uncomfortably. A nice temperature. He would spend sometime in Po-Koro before returning to Ga-Koro he decided. A vacation would do him some good. “Not that I’m not old!” he announced to nobody in particular.

Expect a profile from yours truly today, eventually.

IC: Shomdud “If nautical nonsense be somethin' you wish-Hey, land ho!” the small Turaga announced to himself as he rowed towards the dock of Ostia. “Well, Captain, this was a wonderful trip, don’t you think?” The Turaga looked to the side, “Why, yes, me matey, this was a wonderful trip. And if I may say so, you are the most handsome Turaga I have ever seen.” He looked the other direction. “Awh, Captain, you are very kind! I insist you are more handsome than I could ever be!” And back again. “No, no, matey, I insist! You are-Whoa!” he yelled in fright as the boat bumped into the docks. He glanced around quickly to make sure nobody saw his rookie naval mistake. Satisfied that his reputation was safe, Shomdud departed the boat, tied it to the dock, and hobbled into the coastal city. Ostia was a village in a village, part of Po-Koro but not really at the same time. Shomdud had heard some people call it Ostia-Koro, the “eighth” village. He wondered why it would be the eighth village, when there was only six, but Shomdud just shrugged his shoulders and decided that was for other people to figure out. Right now, he wanted to get into Po-Koro. He quickly found a cart taking passengers to the Koro for cheap, but Shomdud played the “Sick, elderly” card on the poor Matoran, and was able to ride for free. With a smug smile on his face, he was Po-Koro bound, to the great gate.

IC: Shomdud Shomdud wanted to sail. He wanted to sail far away. Like Po-Koro. That's a good distance from Ga-Koro, he figured. So he what he needed to do: He bought a row boat, two oars, and some rope. In a very short time, he was already floating away from Naho Bay, slowly rowing northwards, away from the Koro. "Oooooooooooohhhhhh, who lives in a pineapple under the sea?" He sang, until his voice grew distant and the Koro grew small. OOC: Shomdud to Po-Koro, via boat and the willpower of Spongebob.

IC: Merzt Merzt slapped an insect on his neck. The darn things were fond of any kind of moisture, including sweat. “Stupid bugs,” Merzt muttered, banging his hammer-for-a-hand down on the sheet metal. A few more hits and it was smooth, flat to the naked eye, but Merzt was sure that there were tiny imperfections only a Toa could see, if they had the right mask. A small grunt, a quick walk, and the sheet was settled along side the rest of the products. “14....15...16.” Merzt counted silently to himself. He had hit his target for the day, and hallelujah, he was done until tomorrow. Merzt clocked out, said his farewells to his co-workers and decided to go see what was happening in the village of air. Perhaps something exciting, like a bar fight or more Toa trying to be heroes and accidental falling off the edge to their doom. Merzt saw that happen once. It was some Toa of Stone, he remembered that, but wasn’t sure what his mask was. It didn’t help him anyways, after the Vortixx theft shot the Toa in the chest with some energy gun. The Toa’s armor absorbed it, but when he staggered back, his foot went off, and his body followed suit. That Vortixx is still wanted to this day. Maybe Merzt would catch him someday in his metal glider. That made him grin.

Give me a bit, I need to move my Turaga from Ga- to Po-Koro.

Anybody need an over-talkative Turaga that probably gives out more advice than what's needed? He's also good with boats and rope, likes piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.

IC: Shomdud "Mata Nui help these poor folk, they don't even know how to write directions down." Shomdud muttered, looking at a tiki pole near a crossroads in the village. One way pointed back to the land-based village, the other towards more pads. The other two weren't any help, as he was looking for the Akiri's office to complain about the squishy ground. He reached out, after pulling his long sleeves up to his arms, and spun the tiki pole around a few times. "Maybe there's something on the back." To much disappointment, there wasn't. With a grunt, Shomdud left the now-incorrect facing tiki pole as it was while he headed off towards the docks. After all, being a village of water, shouldn't the Akiri be near their greatest assets? A short time later, Shomdud was walking amongst the sailors and marines of Ga-Koro, though most ignored him. "Busy fellows, ain't they?" he said to nobody in particular. Maybe he would get on a boat and go for a trip somewhere. He had heard word of a strange land beyond the sea, but, "Phooey!" he said, "Nothing exists out there." "Maybe I should join a pirate crew. I can sail and tie knots," he mused, "After all, at my age, what's to lose?" OOC: Shomdud open for interaction.

IC : Kaheri Kaheri was glad the hash-tagger was gone. If there was anything he hated the most, it was beings that walked around going, "You hashtaghashtaghashtaghashtag!" It made no sense, and he wasn't even sure what the heck a hash-tag was. Pushing the strange symbol out of his mind, Kaheri stepped into the dim doorway of the bar. It was smaller than he thought, but he knew that the drink was good and cheap. He could have dealt with drink that tasted like the backside of a dermis turtle, but the price was something he wouldn't budge on; cheap drink above all.

I agree to everything above. It hit the nail on the head to me!