flexing | app for savrou

OUT OF CHARACTER
Player Name: Zee
Are you 16 or older: yes
Contact:Plurk: zeeco
Current Characters: n/a
Tag: aleksandra zaryanova

IN CHARACTER
Name: Aleksandra "Zarya" Zaryanova
Canon: Overwatch
Canon Point: Post the comic "Searching".
Age: 28

History:

Here!

Personality:

Zarya is a woman who knows what it is to sacrifice for one's country. She was on track to having a fairly normal childhood, despite the ongoing conflict against the omnics that ravaged her country. Still, she was going to be a lifting champion! It was said she would break records when she began to compete, she would easily bring fame and glory to Russia. However, on the eve of her championship, her village was devastated by a surprise attack from the omnic forces. She dropped out of the running immediately, instead dedicating her drive and passion to the armed forces. Russia was hit hard by the war, but she saw the fighting through and was able to help with rebuilding efforts. This all has given Zarya an absolutely reinforced team mentality, and she's as much as team player as anyone can be. She can be heard reminding others that together, we are strong, and she'll go to great lengths to keep a team operating together and supporting one another.

She is the same person today who gave everything to the battle. She is focused and disciplined, most easily seen in the excellent shape she keeps herself in. She takes orders no matter what they may be, and has a deep respect for authority. She is undoubtedly a valuable asset to Russia, and to in particular to her superior, Katya Volskaya. Her loyalty is not completely blind, however. She will do what it takes to serve the greater good, but she will not allow herself to be manipulated when those manipulations are revealed to her. Katya attempted just that, only to be revealed to Zarya for what she was by the hacker Sombra. Zarya made it clear she would continue to follow orders for the good of Russia, but she was not Katya's friend, and would not be moved about on the woman's political chessboard.

Her early adulthood and struggles in battle also left her with a deep-rooted distrust and hatred of omnics, no matter how they may have appeared to reform and join society. She hates places like Numbani, where omnics and humans peacefully exist side-by-side. Omnics are not only less than human, but not even on the same playing field — to her they are unfeeling machines, capable of turning murderous with just a switch of their programming. Or at least, that was her opinion of them until she was forced to work with the omnic hacker, Lynx Seventeen. By the end of their time together she would by no means call Lynx a friend, but did consider them to be worthy of hefting out of a building about to blow up. Omnics are uniformly bad and awful, according to Zarya, except for Lynx who is... alright.

Her professional life aside, Zarya does have a friendly side. She can be cheerful and playful, challenging anyone who looks worthy to an arm wrestling contest. She is good with children, and generally good natured with anyone who hasn't given her reason to be otherwise. As long as they aren't a robot, of course.

Abilities/Skills:

Zarya is, like, super strong. She is benchpress 512 kg strong, strong as the mountain. She's in peak physical condition as an athlete on top of being a trained soldier, and has killed, as she says, hundreds of omnics. She has a(n enormous monstrosity of a) gun that she can use to fire particle beams (short range) or explosive charges (long range), and she can generate energy shields temporarliy around herself and others that absorb all blows. She can even lob out a technologically advanged gravitational surge, which will pull all enemies helplessly into it and keep them rounded up and immobilized.

Strengths/Weaknesses:

+ Disciplined, able to follow orders.
+ STRONG
+ Usually goodnatured and friendly.
- Friggin robo-racist.
- Occasionally blinded by her prejudices.
- Inflexible.

Items:

Her armor, her particle cannon, and her communicator pad.

SAMPLES

Network Sample:

I like the way this planet works.

[ There's a heavily Russian-accented voice on the network today, already cheerfully jovial. ]

100 days, 30 hours in a day. That is good. Orderly. It is very easy to make a schedule with hours like these, yes? Eight hours sleeping, a very good start. Wake up and eat a strong breakfast, that is first hour of the day. Basic training, three more hours. Then, a two hour jog. Rest and have lunch, one more hour. Then the day really begins, and you have fifteen hours to get strong. And then? 99 more days to do it all again!

I will be making very detailed schedule, breaking down these last fifteen hours. Contact Aleksandra Zaryanova if you would like to see real training, and know true strength.

And to the rest of you, privet! I am Zarya, and I hope we will be working well together.

Prose/Action Sample:

What is worse than waking up somewhere new, not sure how you got there? It's waking up somewhere new, not sure how you got there, to see a robot trying to give explanations.

Zarya had immediately shoved it away as soon as she'd opened her eyes to see it there, and it's only the fact that in order to reach and shove it she'd had to lunge halfway off of the cot she'd woken up on, that stopped her from doing more to it. She should have ripped it apart with her bare hands — it is never a good sign to see that your only company is a machine. It seems to imply something terrible has happened.

She didn't want to listen to its explanations, accept its "TAB", nor take any of the proffered clothing. Her armor was fine, she had snarled, already barging past it. Its programming didn't seem quite advanced enough to know what to do with this kind of aggression, which just made her all the more scornful.

Zarya probably would have calmed down, exiting the room, were it not that all see saw was more robotic staff. She grips her gun tightly (thoughtful, wasn't it, of the robot to leave her with her cannon) with gritted teeth, shoving past yet another robot.

"Isn't there anyone here?" It's almost a shout in her already loud voice, which is when she spins to lay eyes on, thank god, an organic. Immediately a desperate kind of hope crosses her face as she starts in an immediate beeline toward whatever person — human, alien, she doesn't care — she's spotted.

"You there!" she calls, "You are a sight for very sore eyes!" She'll come to concern herself in a moment with the type of person who surrounds themselves with so many machines — first, she's just glad to see anyone.