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Preferred Name: Chesha
ID Name: Kasmeer Song
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Character Description:
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Physical Description:
Standing at five feet and not quite a full inch, Chesha often rebuts any mockery of her height with off-hand comments or annoyed suggestions for people to check their cupboards and small spaces, “just in case.” At times she will try to offset some of the height disadvantages with wedge heeled boots, but for the most part she’ll stick to flat-footed boots and other thick shoes for the sake of travel. Not a part of the nobility or party lifestyle, Chesha tends to wear more casual styled clothes over her fair skin, somehow resistant to tanning (though sunburns can be an issue at times). Ribbed tank tops, t-shirts fitted or loose (and sometimes at various levels of wear-and-tear), shorts, jeans: her clothes more often are expected to take a beating than get her into a club, though with the more worn clothes she might not be out of place in a rock-styled club. Given her constant traveling the short girl tends to pack for many occasions, able to done cloaks, goggles, and hats for the desert; multiple layers of long-sleeves and jackets as well as pants for snow, and able to peel it all away for a light vest jacket, tank top, and shorts for more pleasant weather.
Black tresses dip down to Chesha’s lower back, bangs cut to frame her face and almost tickle her nose at times the girl usually keeps everything free and loose. In times of heat or perhaps work she’ll toss everything into a casual ponytail, but for the most part steers clear of sticking too much onto her head save for one of her few treasures. Stashed away she owns a pair of mechanical cat ears that seem to move based on the person’s emotional responses, though these are generally enjoyed in private. As far as accessories go sometimes she’ll don a few braided bracelets and a thin, leather necklace that hangs in a few loose loops around her neck and clavicles, and she bears a few piercings in each ear. The girl steers clear of rings though, citing a few horror stories she’s heard from first-hand fools who forgot to remove wedding bands and things before working on their zoids or with warm metal. Viewing makeup as more of a luxury and one she doesn’t fully understand, Chesha’s golden eyes are framed with naturally thick lashes and sometimes a grease smudge if she’s been fixing her Zoid, and little else.
She’s rarely without her messenger bag, brown and often filled with a variety of items ranging from normal to “strange” depending on person-to-person opinion. There’s been jokes by the few that know her that the girl carries the world in that bag and that it might be bottomless, untrue as that may be.
Personality:
Interacting with the pilot may leave one with a headache and the belief she acts purely based on her mood. At times she will be as loud and heated as any brash drunkard and other times quiet and watchful like a feline. Lacking a proper education of social interaction however leaves Chesha often trying to understand the reasons behind the things people do. When she’s frustrated she’s more prone to outwardly question it, but more often “tests” people in various ways and tries to come to a conclusion herself as she’ll claim that people “often lie.” Whether they mean to or not she seems to have some minor grasp on and yet remains curious about the relationships people form with one another (from enemies to lovers and everything in between since “hate” and “love” seem to be the extremes). To say her mood doesn’t influence anything would be a lie, sometimes the pilot simply not in the mood for people or rambunctiousness, or even her machinations to test others.
Unable to trust easily doesn’t mean she won’t act friendly, Chesha often friendly at the get-go. In fact it’s the moodier side she’s generally unwilling to share with people and keeps acquaintances and sometimes “friends” at a distance by only showing that cheery side. Though the people she’s most likely to be friendly with are the ones she views as more immediately beneficial: intoxicated or drunk individuals. Usually a singular individual she thinks she can stiff with a bill for food it’s not completely outside her range to integrate herself into a small party’s good time and then let them foot her food bill, long gone before things start winding down. This isn’t to say she won’t interact with other’s, just that she may not always initiate things or have an immediately thought out “use” and thus, not entirely sure what to do with the person. There’s only one long-term relationship she bears and that’s with her caretaker/”mother,” Xia, so making friends is a bit of a confusing thought/subject.
Normally the girl remains level-headed in combat situations, able to become heated and yet tries to retain some methodical nature. Completely losing herself to the heat of the moment if she knows there are other threats nearby is a large “no, no” for her. She’ll focus on analysis to determine which target’s likeliest to go down first and proceed to aim for them while keeping others on their toes: it wouldn’t be good for them to protect their friend after all. However she’s not without some cause for panic, bearing a very large dislike for needles to the point of lashing out without further thought. This ties heavily in with a dislike in general for doctors, distrusting all but Xia on sight due to past traumas and experiences. Aside from specific people there’s little else she’ll react so extremely towards, even unfavorable food treated in a more childish manner (such as trying to “discreetly” stick it on someone else’s plate or even devolving to making faces at it), and she’s certainly not above childish arguments or retorts be it with adults or…actual children.
Backstory:
- Spoiler:
- Her life should’ve involved white picket fences, going to school, making friends, dinner at home, falling in love, getting a job, and generally being happy. How these things would’ve or should’ve made her happy, Alice failed to understand, but that’s what one of the scientists often said to her. The woman speaking of how Alice’s life should’ve been became a sort of “story time” event to distract her from some of the less than ideal testing. A lot of it flew over her head, the concepts and meanings behind it all escaping someone who simply didn’t know or experience it for herself. Still those times proved some of the most enjoyable, or as close as the girl could equate to enjoyable in her time locked inside the testing facility. At times she inquired about her origins, or the woman’s origins, or the woman’s life in general, or...Alice was never at a loss for questions.
More than anything though she wondered about the others in the lab. Often other scientists would remark on the children they watched over while in earshot of her, and the main factor she gathered was that various ones would be pitted against one another while vying for “spots” on some team. They molded them for certain purposes and eventually would see who performed that purpose the best out of the group, leaving Alice to ponder what they might do with the losers or failures. Her personal attendant always looked away and waved her hand as if dismissing it whilst theorizing they’d merely get lumped into some militaristic group together if they didn’t make the team of elites.
The girl held a few doubts about the validity of such an idea.
Not that she complained or worried about the outcome much, more enraptured with a morbid sense of curiosity. Would they eliminate her? Not knowing what lay beyond death the girl admitted to a bit of curiosity on the matter and decided it wouldn’t be a terrible outcome. It was something to look forward to even if she wouldn’t seek it out explicitly. And what would become of the organoid they paired with her? Or…would they keep her? Repurpose her into a simple ‘soldier,’ as they called it?
Hopefully. The world outside piqued her curiosity something fierce at this point.
Time spent in the facility worked like clockwork, everything functioning mechanically right down to Alice herself. Dead eyes veiled the inquisitive nature beneath, the child observed and yet observing in return as they groomed her for reasons they would not say. They continued to tailor her to suit their desires, only one person truly interacting with her during all that time and the rest leaving it to necessary moments. She watched as a strange emotion took hold of her caretaker, the woman’s behavior easily suspicious to her watchful eye when it was just the two of them. When she finally took drastic measure and kidnapped Alice and let loose her organoid - the girl experienced little surprise, more shock at the change in routine than the action itself – a new life surged in her veins. It was under a hail of bullets from two sides they vanished into the night and she happily fell asleep in the second seat of the Blade Liger that’d been meant to be her Zoid. It became her favorite spot in the whole world in the ensuing years.
They met up with a strange man who called himself Kheine shortly after the grand escape. From what she could gather at the time he’d helped in the planning of the whole thing right down to a possible takedown of the facility entirely. The people in charge did something to upset him greatly, the act so heinous it seemed that it’d render him speechless with what her caretaker later explained was “barely contained rage.” They spent only a short amount of time in his company however, the woman who’d more or less raised her just as eager to leave his company as the confused preteen. Through a few contacts of the woman they eventually joined a group of desert nomads who accepted them with minimal questions. So long as they earned their keep though little else mattered to the lot. It was around this time she adopted the woman’s last name as well as a new name: Kasmeer Song. It’d be the nomads who offered the girl her favored nickname, chosen based on her affinity for disappearing and reappearing at her whims, only enhanced by the feline-like way she’d watch people.
No kids in her age group existed, the only children an infant and young toddler and the closest people in age already breaching their early twenties, Chesha already accepted adulthood much to Xia Song’s sadness. The more problematic issue at hand: the girl found it hard to really interact with the other people most of the time, and instead settled for watching them. She watched as they fought, they fell in love, they laughed, they cried, they worried…they cared and interacted with one another in a way Chesha couldn’t fathom the first step into gaining. In the facility she’d been taught that if something failed then either figure out how to fix it to make it work or move onto something else, and failing to fully connect she settled for the mild camaraderie and sought nothing else from them. Whatever she held with her caretaker – who’d convinced her to start calling her “mum” – was enough at least because even if Chesha couldn’t vocalize or show it well enough, the girl believed she felt something for the woman beneath it all. If nothing else she’d kill anyone who harmed her, and the young woman knew enough to realize it wasn’t for the same reason she’d kill someone for survival.
The nomads owned a couple of Zoids for protection and various modes of travel, prominently Gustavs for moving their settlements, but eventually the experimental girl continued the piloting lessons she’d begun at the Facility – as she’d come to call it. Basics of ground Zoids she learned inside the Blade Liger, experiencing underground traveling as well as underwater through the group’s Warshark and even taking to the skies in their Redler. Xia took the lessons at first as a good sign, eager for Chesha to open up to others and interact in a way she’d been deprived of for so long. It was hard to accept the difficulties that lack of socialization early on caused as the girl’s relationship remained purely platonic, seeking little else than knowledge from them.
In the end they eventually left the group, Chesha insisting they leave in the dead of night and leaving their old Zoid behind. What shocked her mother more was discovering money taken from their previous hosts, Chesha reasoning they’d need another Zoid, one preferably not potentially capable of being tracked despite Kheine’s efforts to deactivate such measures the girl figured it only a matter of time. They couldn’t go without some form of protection, eventually purchasing a remodeled Shadow Fox – or Fire Fox as the gentleman claimed given its crimson paint job. Chesha and Mynstrelle have made many an escape from inebriated men who found themselves stuck with an impromptu food bill ever since, the duet vanishing in a red haze.
Last edited by Chesha on 8th April 2017, 01:49; edited 2 times in total
