Christian Wadescu

Biographical information

Birthplace
Atlantica
Born
2294-09-22
Age
26 years
Home
New Cambridge

Physical description

Species
Human
Gender
Male, he/him
Height
193cm / 6'4"
Mass
82kg / 180lbs
Hair color
Auburn
Eye color
Green
Skin color
Pale

Political information

Affiliation(s)
New Cambridge (current), American Union (former)
Occupation
General technician, cybernetics mechanic, hobby botanist

Out-of-character information

Writer
Tossie
Created on
2020-08-31

Tall and slender with an air of grace. Movements slow and deliberate, almost as if through water. All of it in stark contrast to the beaming smile and happy eyes. Hair usually stashed in a bun under some more work-appropriate head wear, but ever so often left a curly halo.

Big eyes and ever-persistent smile crowns the otherwise plain face; shining with a sliver of hope never truly leaving, not even in the face of great setbacks. Although dire times tends to leave a certain melancholy reflected in the smiling face. Not that he'd ever let it slip beyond that tinge of gray, a furrowed brow and empty eyes.

The whole package a bubbly man living the best years of his life. If not for the markers of one left by the wayside by an uncaring system. A rudimentary automated prosthetic leg, the other foot as well, and a sizable chunk of his internal organs replaced with synthetic versions. "As good an excuse as I'll ever get to learn cybernetics, right?"

General mechanics and a deep understanding of machinery big and small came easily as a temp position grew to a full time job. Employed as a civilian contractor for the Union armed forces left Christian with an breadth of knowledge. Knowledge leveraged to keep not just ships, but his own body running when the goings got rough. Add to that a very keen interest in something completely, but not totally, different; mycology proved more a useful tool for mental health than anything else. "...mostly because there's no money in fungi, not like cold, dead stuff though. I think."

"Promise, no jokes about mushrooms, I'm not that much of a fungi. Sorry..."

Prone to nervous jokes and with a bad habit of incessantly claiming the glass is half full is more than enough to be grating at times. Especially under pressure it bubbles over. Call it a defense mechanism or just a quirk, it's gives a good idea who Christian is deep down. Up beat and bright, especially when the world around him isn't, that would be most of the time in his past. Everything's going to be different now though. That's a belief that shines through when looking at the greater picture.

With an up-beat attitude he has a knack for making and keeping friends. Although oftentimes burdening himself with their well-being, a savior complex at work at the best of times.

Yet it all wraps up into a neat little lithe package, harmless even at the worst of times and just far too concerned with the world around him. Kind to a fault and with enough love to go around. The challenge is keeping some for himself.

Growing up with a clear goal seems easy; there's always something to work towards, no matter what life throws at you. Although what's not as easy is figuring out what to do when you finally get there. Such was the conundrum of a far too young man thrown in with the American Union navy in hopes of getting to see the galaxy and manage great things. A fleet of dilapidated drop ships and leaking cooling systems wasn't really on the agenda though.

With the goal finally reached, sort of, there was just nothing left. Happiness didn't just materialize, neither did love and fame. Only a never ending stream of tiny little niggles distracting from the massive huge niggle that brewed in his mind: "I want out."

And out he got, with a bang and a half. Getting almost ripped in half and put on medical leave was a good enough excuse as any to rearrange your life. Ditching everything for the alluring call of a distant planet seemed almost romantic when viewed from a far too expensive hospital bed. Said and done, the move was a fact. Not that difficult when your life could fit into a locker and what ever little hiding spots proved warm and damp enough for some fungal friends to thrive.

Begin again. A new goal in mind: to actually find happiness.

Character portrait belongs to Andrew S. Gibson