A woman, of average height and slim build. She has bright blond hair, and a kind smile. Her eyes are a sea green and her lips full. A fun woman to engage with, and resourceful in her ways.
| Bryanna Fletcher | |
|---|---|
 | |
|
Race |
Stromgarde Human |
|
Family |
Mason Fletcher (Adoptive Father) † |
|
Faith |
The Holy Light |
|
Occupations |
Engineer Assassin Mercenary |
|
Affiliations |
None |
|
Status |
Alive |
|
Alignment |
Lawful Neutral/Good |
|
Birth Place |
Rockvale - Tor |
|
Birth Date |
June 22nd, 19 L.C. (17) |
Description[]
"A woman, stunning in appearance and wit." - Luke Tyndall
Of average stature, standing at only 5'8" the woman is hardly an imposing figure to any who would stop to speak to her. She has light flowing blond tresses, if seen in either the right sun or moon light one would say it even shines and glints. Her eyes are a sea green, often looking out at crowds with suspicion and caution. She bears a small cross of a scar below her left eye, clearly old and faded. She has full lips, often seen grinning like a wild woman. Her jawline is well defined, though pointed slightly. She is clearly very slim, maybe even somewhat malnourished by the looks of her.
Very slim, that's how most would describe her. Perhaps 100 lbs, if not less than that. She has light layers of muscle all over her body, keeping clearly in well physical condition. She has little to show in her bust, though she doesn't seem to care about her perceived feminism. Her entire right arm is missing, replaced instead with a prosthetic of her own creation. The whirring contraption shows her expertise in engineering, and in robotics. The arm contains an entire blade that extends just over a foot from her wrist where the blade protrudes. Her left arm is mostly intact, though her hand has too been replaced by a prosthetic one. This goes just to her wrist in length. Her pointer finger there holds a small barrel as though to fire a gun, her palm containing a magazine for nine millimeter rounds, twelve bullets are in the magazine.
Her legs are long, attributing to most of her meager height. They are well toned, clearly used to running long distances and carrying heavy loads. Her rear is much like her bust, not much to look at. Due to her lithe build overall, it gives her the much needed mobility to jump from roof to roof and to pursue those she would be found chasing.
Personality[]
"Fun, witty, dangerous, and in general a good bit of fun." - Jason "Osprey" Royal
A cautious person by nature, she doesn't take easily to new people. Rather, she gives an aura of strength and attempts to be rather imposing with all those new she meets. On the inside she is rather fun and friendly as a person, loyal to her friends, to the point of nearly killing herself to keep them from danger or harm. She is extremely naive in most social situations, and despite her bristly outlook at first, she may be too trusting for her own benefit. As she is younger than she may seem, she lies about her age, often claiming to be twenty one years of age. Due to her rampant lies to those she meets, she has developed a slight problem with it. There are very few who she has divulged her actual age, and even less who she can't lie to. She does her best at all times to be kind and helpful to those she meets, though she often fails at this as she many times doesn't know the best way to help those she does meet. She has a sense of humor, and a quick wit, often keeping up with the best of them.
Apparel[]
"Armed to the teeth, decked to the nines, prepared for everything." - Steven Brick
Combat Armor[]
Lacking a helm or a hood to protect her head, she displays her face for all to see without a second thought in her mind. Her armor is a thick leather, red in hue and cut well in some places. Below the leather is a layer of mithril chain mail used for extra protection. On her belt hangs a small grappling gun, with a range of near to 100 meters. She seems completely devoid of weapons, though that isn't the case ever. The only other things adorning her belt are four magazines for the gun in her prosthetic hand.
Casual Wear[]
In her casual wear, she is much less imposing, or seemingly ready for battle. Though, don't let that fool you, she is very combat ready and prepared to fight any and all who would come to challenge her should that arise. Otherwise, she is in a white linen shirt, with a medium brown leather vest as well as brown leather trousers. On her belt is only one reload for the gun in her hand, though her grappling hook is missing, it has been replaced by a small book that has the appearance of a journal.
Formal Wear[]
Her formal wear, something few will ever see. She would be seen in a dark black dress, missing her belt or any reloads for her hand pistol. The dress is strapless, and leaves her back bare down to a point at the small of her back. The only thing that would seem out of place would be her prosthetic pieces, jarring heavily against the sleek silk of her dress.
History[]
Bryanna had a troubled life, born to parents that she would never know, left on the doorstep of an old engineer. Though the kindly man did his best to support her in life, he would ultimately die before the girl turned even eight years of age. Despite the death of the man, she soldiered on, coming to master the man's trade. At the age of eleven she joined a mercenary band as a resident engineer for the group, specializing primarily in firearms. Later, she would abandon the group in favor of greener pastures. Though she was not without injury. She lost her right arm, and her left hand up to her forearm. Though this would seem crippling, when she lost her left hand, she built a prosthetic hand to replace it. Then, when she lost her arm she too would build an entire arm to replace it as well.
Early Childhood (Ages 0-7)[]
"What do you expect me to do with her?! We can't take care of a child!"
"I... I don't bloody well know! Here, what about Mason? He'll at least give her a good home."
"Fine, he'll work."
Bryanna would be left at the doorstep of Mason Fletcher, alone with nothing but a ragged old blanket wrapped around her. The kindly old engineer, nearing his seventieth birthday would find the young child on his doorstep, crying. Without a second thought he would take her in, making her his own.
"No, no, no. Bry, that's not how that goes together... No! Just... Let me do it."
Ever since she was old enough to walk talk, and use her hands to a good benefit, she was toying and fiddling with engineering parts. Mason was a masterwork engineer, not only capable in creating weapons and small tools, he could design buildings of massive design. He taught the young girl everything he could, only hoping that she would retain what was being taught. In this particular case, she had found a way to dismantle an old pistol he had been toying with. When he had shown up on the scene though, she tried to hide the dismantled weapon, and it's parts strewn all over the workshop. She was perhaps two and a half years old. Mason couldn't help but to chuckle at the situation. He made attempts to direct her to put the weapon back together, though she failed to understand or execute the instruction provided. Tiring of watching her struggle with the most basic of tasks, he would take the parts and finish re-constructing the weapon once again.
On what was presumed to be the girl's fourth birthday, or the day that she was dropped on Mason's doorstep rather, she would be given a present that she would cherish forever. A small mechanical bird that he had taken the time to construct. It was a windup little thing, and didn't do anything other than hop around on the ground where it was set. Despite it's seemingly useless nature, it would be forever cherished by her. She was now an apprentice engineer, learning from his teachings more aptly now. She excelled in robotics and weapons, though failed ultimately in structural design and practicality. Her designs were brilliant in some ways, though pointless in others. She loved to design weapons, even if she wouldn't build them. Mason loved watching the girl work, she was his daughter in his eyes. He never had children, and thus felt a special bond with the child. Mason suffered from extreme depression, and the only thing that ever kept him going was her.
Bryanna was only seven and a half years old, and she watched as her father figure died. Mason Fletcher was seventy seven, suffering from cancer and depression. It was bound to happen to the man at some point, either by natural causes or by his own hand. The girl, for three days, could no nothing but cry and beg to have the man she knew to be her father return to her. By the morning of the third day, she could cry no more. She took the man's corpse into the back yard and buried him under the large willow tree growing there. She would construct a small headstone, reading his name, his date of death, and what he was to the girl. Bryanna would spend the rest of her time at the home working to master the Engineering trade so as to honor her father.
Late Childhood (Ages 8-12)[]
(WIP)
Teenage Years (Ages 13-16)[]
(WIP)
Currently[]
(WIP)
Gadgets[]
(WIP)
Grappling Gun[]
(WIP)
Mechanical Horse[]
(WIP)
Mechanical Bird[]
(WIP)
Goggles[]
(WIP)
Relationships[]
(WIP)
Love Life[]
(WIP)
Good Friends[]
(WIP)
Enemies[]
(WIP)