APPLICATION

[clockblock]

Player Information

Name: Jake
Age: 18+
Contact Info: khajiit | idgrod[at]gmail[dot]com
Other Characters: Mami Tomoe (fataliteas)

Character Information

Name: Alister Azimuth
Canon: Ratchet and Clank: A Crack in Time
Age: Unknown, guesstimated to be on the later side of middle-aged for his species, which I'm putting as 45 in human years.
Gender: Male
Canon Point: After being captured by Vorselon.
Background Link: [ENDGAME SPOILERS INBOUND] Here!
Inventory: His Praetorian Omniwrench, the armor and hoverboots he always wears, a handful of electrical bombs, and a pocketwatch containing a portrait of himself and his best friend as they were in their younger days.

His Omniwrench is a 2-in-1 tool and weapon that can fire off charged electrical bursts, so he'll lose it along with the electrical bombs. His armor possesses additional technological functions such as transmitting remote commands to his spaceship, which will be disabled in Norfinbury. The hoverboots will lose their ability to.....well, hover, or otherwise operate as anything besides a pair of boots.

Personality:

In order to understand Alister Azimuth as he is now, it's best to first examine how he began.

Lombaxes are engineers and inventors. They tinker, they innovate, they understand machinery and technology on an instinctual level. It's an affinity that the entire species shares, Alister included. And yet he's categorized as a solider in almost every respect, from working his way up the ranks of the Praetorian Guard to becoming a Four Bolt Magistrate to serving as an Elder Councilman in a military capacity. His primary motivation was to protect what mattered to him, and he felt that he was most capable of achieving that goal through the armed services rather than in a laboratory. Alister took immense pride in safeguarding his people from threats with his strength, skill, experience and bravery rather than solely relying on technological prowess, and his philosophy of "reward over consequences" made him strive against all odds to achieve victories that would benefit the galaxy at large as well as the Lombaxes.

This twin influence of noble duty and favored perspective was what made him decide that trusting Percival Tachyon was worth the risk. Alister believed that uniting Tachyon's ideas with Lombax technology could produce what was necessary to best restore order to the Polaris Galaxy in the wake of the devastating Great War — a conflict begun when the Lombaxes opposed the Cragmite Empire's attempts to conquer Polaris and only ended when every Cragmite (save one) was banished to another dimension entirely. Unaware that Tachyon was that lone remaining Cragmite, Alister allowed him full access to the Lombax archives, only for Tachyon to use the knowledge to create unspeakably powerful tools of destruction and use them to attack the Lombax home planet of Fastoon.

Because of his good intentions, because he believed that the chance of victory mattered more than doubts or failure, Alister Azimuth was indirectly to blame for not only the near-destruction of his entire race but their abrupt departure from the entire universe as well. Tachyon's assault forced the surviving Lombaxes to escape to another dimension, and for his crimes, Alister was forbidden from joining them. He lived in exile for the next twenty-odd years, haunted by the memories of what he had allowed to happen to those he had spent his life trying to protect.

In his own words, he failed them. In his own mind, Alister feels wholly responsible for what befell the Lombaxes, including the deaths of Ratchet's parents. He spent years dwelling on the past and his own culpability until he was simply unable to stop. And that decline into obsession changed him.

Not that the average person is likely to find out even a tenth of that. Alister is close-mouthed and evasive about his past even to Ratchet, his best friend's son, only revealing the truth when backed into a corner. His tough exterior of a confident, pragmatic veteran is one that's easy to accept because Alister wears it well, keeping his grief and shame private without making it obvious that he has a lot to hide. A casual acquaintance with him might suggest that he's been through rough times, but only the vague shape of such a notion. If he happens to take a liking to someone, any hints as to the demons in his closet are buried further under supportive encouragement and well-intentioned advice.

Beneath that veneer of reliability is an unstable wreck of a once-proud general. Grief, guilt, loneliness and loss are the cracks in his armor, undermining his ability to think rationally when the right pressures are applied and outright crippling any potential to move on from the events of his past. Shame and anger, on the other hand, have corrupted him to the point where he's become frighteningly capable of monstrous selfishness so long as he can justify those actions to himself. He has a temper that runs close to the surface, a streak of ruthlessness that's not always put to altruistic ends, a defiant stubbornness that works against him as much as it helps him get through each day of his disgrace. The scope of his aspirations and priorities has narrowed considerably from his younger days, and as his desperation mounts, the price he's willing to pay (or force others to) in order to achieve his goals grows higher and higher. In the right situation he has little trouble switching gears to behave in a blunt, cruel, and even violent manner if it means getting the job done.

Mired in the past despite all of his pretenses of looking to the future, Alister Azimuth is tragic in some ways and contemptible in others. Even now, he clings to the same idea of "reward over consequence" that has guided him to make both the best and the worst decisions of his life. But redemption isn't beyond him yet. Good intentions are still the basis of the majority of his actions......at least, the ones made while in a sane state of mind.

Flavor Abilities: Canon is vague about Lombax biology past a limited point; they're felids, so I assume they possess certain feline attributes such as night vision and improved smell/hearing. I'd like for him to keep these traits as flavor abilities but toned down enough so that he doesn't have a massive advantage over ordinary characters. Also noting here that Lombaxes have an innate affinity for gadgetry and machinery — they're inventors and engineers able to create, repair, and manipulate technology instinctively and intuitively without always needing the technical know-how. This is something I want him to outright lose, forcing him to fall back on what actual knowledge and expertise that he has.

Suitability: A big reason why I want to bring Alister into Norfinbury is because it will make him part of a very small minority of non-humans. He comes from a canon where intergalactic travel is commonplace and other species mingle rather freely, yet the number of "basically humans, probably" can be counted on one hand. The majority of said species are also at least capable of advanced space flight, whereas that's a milestone not yet reached in the worlds of several human characters. I'm looking forward to having him deal with such a drastic change in not only surroundings, but community, especially after spending so many years as not only an exile but as a rebel in seclusion. His personal philosophy of "rewards over consequences" should also help with exploring opportunities that a more cautious character would pass over.

RP Samples:

NETWORK

[It's been a week since his arrival. Time to adjust, make plans, and at least temporarily accept the fact that he can't break his tablet down into parts to jerryrig a fix for his armor and hoverboots. Which means he might as well use it for its (apparently) intended purpose of communication, especially since he has questions to ask and has yet to run into anyone during his travels.

Alister switches on the voice function without even considering the video option, but not because Nefarious or Vorselon might use it to find him. For one thing, they aren't here, and have never been here; there's no record of them on the network, and that's proof enough when it comes to a pair of vociferous egomaniacs. For another, even if they did arrive at some point in the future, they would do so without their armies, weapons, and resources. He could take them both on with his bare hands if he got them alone, without a doubt.

No, Alister keeps the video off because he's realized that almost everyone else in Norfinbury looks like each other and not at all like any of the numerous different species that he knows about. No fur, no scales, no enlarged craniums or multiple appendages. It's unsettling, confusing, and most certainly not something he wants to have a conversation about right now.]

I've been reading the network's archives. There's been a lot of questions about the situation that we're in. What happened, how it happened, who's responsible for it all, what should come next..... Definitely important things to think about. I want answers, myself.

[His voice is tough and self-assured, edged only slightly with what might be impatience or simply a lack of proper sleep beginning to take its toll. An older man, unafraid and in control. There's a brief pause.]

But what I'm wondering is something no one's asked yet: what planet is this, and which galaxy are we in? It's not like any I've ever seen, and I've been to a few.

......

The stars have been obscured for awhile now, but that cloud cover can't stay there forever. Keep an eye out for when it lifts and we'll be able to divine our location from them, or at least narrow the list down considerably.

[Without fuss or fanfare, the transmission ends.]

3RD PERSON

At first, being robbed of his Omniwrench had felt like losing his right arm. The value it had as both a tool and a weapon was immense; the personal significance because of what it symbolized, immeasurable. But after trudging through snowdrifts for two weeks straight, Alister can't help but frustratedly grumble to himself that he'd trade a dozen Omniwrenches for a functioning pair of hoverboots. Or at least for being let in on the secret as to why the ones on his own feet stopped working upon his arrival to this snow-choked wasteland. Same with the secondary functions on his armor, despite neither possession showing signs of being tampered with. And, too, why every attempt to repair them was met with failure after baffling failure.

Kaden would have known what the problem was. He would have known at a glance, and then he could have fixed it while blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back. Ratchet, too. The boy was as smart as they come, just like his father.

No question.

Gritting his teeth, Alister pushes onward, thoughts of the past receding to make room for an assessment of the here and now. (But never leaving entirely, always casting their bitter shadow.) By his reckoning, there should be a house over the next hill. He had seen it off in the distance a few days ago during a run for supplies. The chances were excellent that it would be an opportune place to take shelter for the night. Granted, he had never investigated the house himself, but Alister felt confident that it would suit his needs. Besides, with the afternoon drawing to a swift and merciless close all around him, there wasn't time for doubts or indecision. Better to cast such things aside.

Step after stubborn step leads him up one last difficult slope until he reaches the crest. He can see the house now, right where it ought to be. A small building, primitive like all the others that he's come across, but sturdy-looking. It's like he had always told himself: rewards over consequences — seize victory, and the rest will fall into place. With a satisfied smirk, Alister takes the final stretch of tundra at a loping gait, his stride measured and steady. Conserving a little extra time during travel meant he could afford to inspect the outside for issues worthy of concern before settling in. And deal with any possible occupants, of course, but he saw no reason to be troubled about the prospect. The hairless species that predominated this place had proved themselves to be sentient, if not terribly advanced beings. Now that he was here, he could reason with them.

Or intimidate them, if necessary. Not that it would bring him any pleasure from having to do so, but dying from exposure was simply not an option. A corpse couldn't escape this place or track down the Great Clock; Alister Azimuth had no intentions of becoming one.