[ERF] Your Matticks R&D Application

Please State Your Name: andri sapp

Fully, his name was Andri Sappe-Guster. For some reason, he came close to a mental breakdown just trying to fill his name in. Not just jittering and anxiety - no, those were real tears. Pain, anguish, mixed in with dry, squirming sobs. He didn't explain why. It was best just to call him Andri.


Please State Your Physical Description: tu old - white - white - brwn - dead

It was almost correct. Andri was a human male, 5'6", only in his early thirties - 33, by his guess - but he was definitely running his calendar fast. Stress had his long face even longer than it should've been. It was all set into a permanent frown. Hopeless bags had settled in for good under his bloodshot brown eyes. Awkward clumps of little red scars dotted his face, halfway between acne and acid burns. Overgrown eyebrows were juxtaposed against a head of brown hair packed into isolated clumps, all cut through by burn scars. It was frankly hard to meet his eye; the man could knock a good day dead with just one miserable look.

At one point in his life, he had the muscles of a master-class mercenary, but, when he'd walked in, he had the look of a corpse pulled out of a swamp. He was covered in half-healed sores, scabs, and scars. If it wasn't a break in his skin, it was a crusting of something awful. He was a Caucasian in there somewhere, but all the gunk, grease, and grime made him a little indifferent on the subject of ethnicity. A disturbing quality was the shimmering slime he left on the application computer. That was something his body oozed out, as if it'd replaced his ability to sweat. He couldn't just wash that off. That was part of him.

Most of that was covered up in a set of drab rags that were something like an extension of his skin. Damp, rank-smelling leather and cloth in dismal shades of browns, blacks, and blues. Everything was heavy, baggy, and torn on just about every edge. Worn black boots and tattered black gloves covered his hands. A big hump dominated his back; an oxygen tank side-by-side with a fuel tank. A black mask dominated his face; a gas mask hooked into the oxygen supply, through an awkwardly-offset air hose on the snout. Two tiny lenses covered in grease were his windows to the world.

He had two weapons at his disposal when he came in. A shotgun he had absolutely no ammunition for, and a flamethrower that was at about half full. The shotgun was a rusty pump-action that didn't look safe to use anymore. The flamethrower was a homemade fuel projector feeding from the tank on his back, right next to his air supply. That most definitely did not look safe - and he absolutely refused to be parted with it. The only weapons that looked as if they wouldn't kill him as soon as the trigger was pulled were a survival knife, a machete, and a screwdriver.


Please State Your Skills and Talents: lt nit huntng & deforstry & cook & supply admanagmnt

As much as he had a certain acquired taste, Andri had a decent list of skills. For all the weight he was carrying around, he was frighteningly quiet. Everything on his person had been tied down to keep noise to a minimum. He wasn't especially fast, but he could keep up a decent speed for all that encumbrance. It was a health hazard to let him near anyone's food, but he seemed to have a good grasp on cooking skills. What he was best with was the concept of simple numbers; counting supplies, parcelling out fair rations, and improvising filler for the stock. "Deforestry" was a skill that probably wouldn't be important - especially if it involved that flamethrower.


Give a Brief Overview of Your Mental State: what

Andri felt the way he looked. He was a mess. His family was all dead - and he never specified how, or how many he had before they died - and that'd turned him into a half-mute pessimist. He grumbled and groaned everything, skipped words, and never had anything good to say - about anything, ever. He seemed to be in pain every moment of his life. If it wasn't a headache, it was that awful ooze doing something to him. He spoke English - when he actually spoke - but it was hard to place an accent or any kind of background to his voice. He never spoke loud enough for it to come out.


List Any Previous Employers or Jobs: tazirek farm & buldsho mill & raketer bonty offce & custer merch & wllimson supply statin

Some of that misery went together with his background; somewhere in his past, Andri had been a mercenary, and not the kind anyone was happy to see. To put it as bluntly as possible, he burned people alive for money. He shot squatters in their sleep and hacked the hands off of people stealing produce from farm fields. He'd done caravan escort work at some point, but it wasn't much to be talked about. Somewhere along the way, he'd worked for Loonies as a scout and crab hunter. That career ended in some kind of disaster - something he wouldn't talk about.

Please State Your Name: Peter Iylvich
White, 38 years old. Burlap robes, hood, cloak. Goggles to keep dust out of the eyes. 5’3” tall.

In order to ensure you have the right person, I have a list of deformities that will be an indicator to my person. Two short (2”) antenna near the ears. In perfect conditions, can pick up others presences within 15 feet. Dyspigmentation across the body, especially across the back. In-grown nerve endings result in blisters across the body, except at the finger tips, where they function as a gateway to the subject. In addition, overgrown nervous system results in bulging skin in most areas. Keep this confidential, for reasons I’m sure you can guess.
Miscellaneous skills include animal husbandry, excellent calligraphy, and meditation techniques, among others.
Often times, the Abbey sends its members to collect money, often in the form of mercenary activity. This is a highly honorable tradition, the completion of which is paramount. I’m willing to bend in a whole host of directions to ensure that this mission is completed to the best of my abilities.


Monk of Novirich Monastery at the Knobbled Cutters for all of my life. Daily duties included farming, house care, meditation, physical and mental training.

Please State Your Name:

22-45-35351-12 (DEF), Allie Markell. Just call me Allie.


Please State Your Physical Description: (Age, Race, Skin, Eye, Hair, If Applicable):

Unionite - 5 years old. Wide, rectangular-shaped hull.

Holographic avatar – Human female. Brown skin, black eyes, brown hair. Approximately 26 years old.


Please State Your Skills and Talents: (If Applicable):

Medical doctor trained by home network Unity Station. I’m specialized in surgery for all major species on Set.

I have a good grasp of the biology on Set. Capable of field work (ie. Gathering samples and data) if necessary.

Can speak multiple languages. Sort of.


Give a Brief Overview of Your Mental State: (Emotional Outlooks, Ethics, Mental Disorders)

I’m optimistic. I like being in a good mood. I’m empathetic, so I work well with others and try to avoid conflict if I can. I may have mild bouts of processor overload when undergoing combat stress.

Zorah’s Eye and its mysteries have piqued my interest for years. Personally, I’d be very, very excited to help answer some of those mysteries alongside your team. So long as it’s right, I’m willing to do whatever it takes.


List Any Previous Employers or Jobs:

30305 Static Network, Unity Station.

Cloneston – Jimmy.

Numerous gang/town leaders in the wastelands.

Self-employed doctor in orbit.