Samantha Grady

[Sam Grady]

Samantha Emer Grady




//YOU THINK YOU HAVE THE BEST OF INTENTIONS//
//I CANNOT SHAKE THE TASTE OF BLOOD IN MY MOUTH//

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Full Name - Samantha Emer Grady.
Nicknames/Alias - Sam, Grady, Samnang, [censored].
Age - 27.
Date of Birth - 11th November.
Gender - Female.
Sexual Orientation - Heterosexual.
Affiliation - Independent.
Occupation - Best Gorram Pilot in the 'Verse.

Play-By - Alexa Davalos.
Build - Wiry, muscled, lithe.
Height & Weight - 5'6" & 129lbs.
Hair - Brunette, past shoulders, wavy, tangled.
Eyes - Green.
Unique Features -
--Black, skeletal and dull metal make up Sam's replacement left forearm. The injury was a result of a raid gone bad, where an explosion left Sam under a collapsed support strut, her arm smashed beyond repair and requiring a false replacement if she were ever to fly the same again. Luckily, Marlon knew a guy... and thus, after some dirty, back-alley surgery on one of the seedier planets in the 'Verse, Grady got a new arm. Visual
--Also has a tattoo just at the top of her backside that is simply the hanzi "什么" / Anything.
Dressing Style -
*Always wears a pair of leather bracers/gloves that conceal her forearms and half her hands; to protect her arm from getting things gummed up in the works.
General:
One
Two
Three
Pjs!:
Yar Har
Other - Weapons of choice are various concealed knives, shotguns, and a stubby Mateba revolver.

Likes -
--Flyin'.
--A good old fashioned brawl.
--Always flyin'.
--Payday.
--Fresh fruit.
--Seeing someone get what they deserve.
Dislikes -
--Folks telling her how to do her job.
--Back-seat pilots & co-pilots. Sam's a greedy sort.
--Stuck-up folks.
--Authority.
--Gambling with her own money. Willingly would with someone else's.
--Constructive criticism.
Quirks/Habits -
--Insanely protective of mechanics she works with-- they keep her ships flying.
--Likes to have a bunk closest to the bridge, but will always inevitably end up sleeping in her pilot's chair.
--A little sticky-fingered. Old pirate habit.
--Bit of a scrooge with her coin.
Fears -
--Claustrophobia.
--Crashing.
--Losing another limb.
Secrets -
--Actually enjoys being surrounded by folks.
--Is pretty damn loyal to her crew once she gets to know them.
Strengths -
--Quick reactions; great getaway pilot.
--Fast and slippery in a fight.
--A mean left hook.
Weaknesses -
--Rude & Crude. Not someone you'd take to do deals with polite company. Or the easily offended.
--Her false arm is known to lock-up and cause her pain at the most unhelpful times.
--Reckless and dangerous with her flying.
Talents/Special Abilities -
--Can fly even the junkiest of junkers.
--Sleight of hand.
--Knife throwing.
Aspirations -
--Never stop flying.
--Earn her fortune.
Overall Personality -
What can I say? Sam is a lewd, crude and rude semi-reformed space pirate with a weird streak of loyalty and a self-serving manner. Sam only really cares about what benefits her, and lives in the here and now. She has a very direct, to-the-point manner and doesn't hold back on saying what she's thinking. This leads to her running her mouth an awful lot and more than likely offending anyone that could be offended. That said, despite her slight lack of discipline and dislike for the law, she's easy to remind about the chain of command, and quick, stern words will get her back into whatever kind of line there is on the crew. Flying is her passion, and feel sorry for anyone trying to forcefully take that away from her. Despite her very short and illegal stint as a soldier in the war, Sam has gained quite an affinity for the Browncoats; a love for anyone that tries to go against the odds and kick some ass. Can also be a little bit childish at times.

Father - Tomas Grady, 52, smuggler, neutral.
Mother - Frieda Danes, 21 at death, neutral.
Siblings - None that she knows of.
Other Significant People -
--Syeira Duvont; Browncoat gypsy lady. A face she remembers from the war.
--Marlon Loomis; Formerly the last leader of the Red Nova pirates. Now he's a shady black market dealer on Beaumonde. Hun Dan.
Pets - None. You kiddin'? Sam would probably eat it when food got low...
Your History -
--^{Reckless Abandon}_2493-2509

Angel. It was a world of the worst kinds of people. A backwater slum planet covered in neon lights, various shady dealings and it's own underground. A black market for whatever illegal tastes you might have. Samantha was born to an unmarried couple. Frieda Danes and Tomas Grady. Her mother was strung out on various chems and stims. Whatever drugs were around on Angel. Tomas was a local smuggler with this own little cargo hauler. Frieda tried to get clean when she found out she was pregnant, but it never really stuck... the addiction had her too bad. When Sam was born, Tomas swept her away so she didn't fall into the same fate, and kept her on his little ship. So she grew up on the knee of a less-than-legal man, who did what he could to survive on Angel, and then provide for his child. There was probably an underlying resentment; like he didn't ask for this, but actually did love his daughter. Frieda died when Sam was still young and would never know the woman. The drug abuse had finally taken it's toll on her increasingly weak health. Sam got to know the streets of Angel's capital well. The city of Discord, or just "Dis" was a prime example of life on Angel. Tomas didn't really shield her from anything when she hit her teens. The quickest way to survive here was to start early. There were also the smaller planet of Zephyr that spun the same orbit - that Tomas' ship would frequent. So Sam's domain was stretched from one planet to the other. This was her life for a while. When she hit 16, and after the last year or so of her badgering her father, Tomas caved and taught her how to fly. Watching him was always going to spark some interest in her. So he made her his co-pilot, and had her working on jobs with him. She took a cut of the profits, she learned how to fly... But it wasn't... enough.

--^{For All That's Good & Brown}_2510-2511

It wasn't until near the end of the war that Sam Grady managed to "fall into" it. Life on Angel hadn't been enough for her, and she'd set her sights on the entire 'Verse to make her oyster. Leaving home hadn't been so hard a choice. She left a scrawled little note for her old man, all that mushy stuff a tough girl could never admit to, and headed out. No one would hire a kid. No one trusted her to fly their ship. Sam got increasingly annoyed -- but then, then she realised. The war. The Browncoats were desperate for troops at this point. They needed extra hands. When Sam enlisted, they didn't check twice to see if she was in fact old enough. Nope. So she became an emergency evac pilot. She was even put in charge of a small shuttle. Surprisingly, through all her reckless flying under fire, she didn't crash. There were a few near-misses and emergency landings, but all-in-all, for a kid? She did quite well. That was when she crossed paths with Syeira Duvont and a troop of soldiers pinned down. They'd been on the radio for hours for back-up and no one had been coming. Grady was scheduled to pick up some supplies and ship them over to another command post when she heard the burst of static through her comm. The gunfire in the background. Grady loved the danger. The thrill of flying in dangerous situations. So she went in. Her shuttle had to be the most dented, the most burnt and scarred. A plan had been put into motion for the evac - she was coming in to get them. They almost didn't make it to the designated landing point - in fact, Grady had to adjust the distance a little. She dropped down ahead of them instead, between them and the fire they were under. Screaming and cursing them to hurry up whilst bullets attempted to dent the thick hull of the small ship. The escape had been daring. Mortar fire was weaved through, shots were dodged - though one turret managed to leave some smoking panels. But the small shuttle made it out. Made it to the command post. If they'd seen under her flight helmet, they'd have been surprised. Sam was, too, secretly. But she was too busy getting a rush to her ego. They all probably should've died.

--^{The "Lucky" One}_2512-2518

Grady was sort of lost after the war. The adrenaline high of battle leaving her empty and without purpose or cause. So the young woman headed out into the Border. That was when she met Marlon Loomis and the rest of the Red Nova pirates. With their fast junker of a ship, the Nyx, they never really had a pilot that could put it through it's paces. The young Miss Grady came across them on Santo. She'd heard rumours about them - about their life. It sounded like the best idea for a stupid kid like her. It took a lot of proving. A lot. But Samantha was persistent. She was tenacious. And she wasn't taking 'get lost, kid' for an answer. Marlon gave her her chance - with any luck she'd get herself killed, right? Her flying skills impressed. The nickname Samnang became her actual name amongst the crew. It meant 'Lucky', and she definitely appeared to be just that. There were a lot of times when she should've died, or got them all killed. One time... Samnang wasn't so lucky. There was a job that would end her career. A bad raid where all hands on-board were needed outside. Sam went out on jobs from time to time. She was quick at getting to the cockpit and offworld. This time, though... something went wrong. Sam was caught in an explosion. Her left arm was crushed beneath a strut. Damaged beyond repair. Their "doctor" - used in the loosest sense of the title possible - had to amputate it. There was nothing more that could be done. From the elbow down, Sam had nothing. Always a fighter, though, she wouldn't admit it was over. She tried to fly one-handed. It wasn't the same. She was slow, it was hard to react. The Novas almost dumped her off somewhere, but then Marlon came up with an idea. He had a contact - on Fury of all places. A back-alley surgeon... and mechanic. A month later, Sam was recovering from surgery. A metal, skeletal arm attached to where she'd been left with a stump... It was... it was new. Something new to deal with. Took a lot of adjusting and still, it was never going to be perfect. Sam's abilities suffer a little if it manages to play up on her. That wasn't as bad as what happened late in ₂₅₁₈. A rival gang of pirates started a little war with the Novas. The Nyx was forced into an emergency landing on some little isolated dustball. The fighting lasted a few hours - and then the worst of the worst happened. Reavers. A small ship of them literally crashed the party. The only survivors? Sam and Marlon. Both escaped on the rival gang's ship. The rest is just... history.

--^{"It's jus' Grady."}_2519-Present

With the Novas lost, their ship totalled, Grady discarded her little nickname and as always, ended up back on Angel. Her old man was still alive, and offered her work. She took it. Life seemed a little hollow again. Back full circle to the start. She didn't talk about what was past. Grady just did the cargo work she was given and that was that. To take the edge off of life, she took to pit-fighting in the slums. Lasted for about a year before she would've done anything to be out in the 'Verse again.

What should we call you? - Edi! It's a household name now.
Roleplaying Experience - 9+ years.
Where did you find us? - Through the 'Verse.
Prove Yourself - Shiny like a diamond.
Post Script - Don't be scared. She doesn't bite too hard.
Other characters - Edith Hunter, Artemis Jones [wip].
How we should contact you - PM.
Roleplay Example -

The drip drip drip of leaky, rusted pipes had to be the only real sound in the tomb that was this place. Dreary, damp-streaked concrete walls surrounding on three sides, and then the lines of orange-coloured metal bars that ran horizontally and vertically. No high-tech go se. That'd be too fancy for a small, backwater prison like this. No sir. Legs were huddled up under her chin, grubby, filthy hair and dirty face visible in the din. Her clothes were torn and stained. The clank in the distance signified a riot baton beating against the bars of the cells down the line. The object scraped along to wake up anyone still thinking they had the priviledge of sleep.

Drooped lids snapped back open, and the wiry form untangled from her curled-up state, sliding up the wall to stretch and groan with the stiff pain. There was a numb, deadened feeling of this weight at her left side, the limb dangling uselessly. They'd deactivated it, of course. That spidery black-metal arm generally rather painful at the connection between it and flesh. Mostly from the feedback she was getting from it being mostly broken right now. But it just made her angrier. More eager to get her own pack on these ta ma de hun dans.

One arm was looped through the bars, rested on one of the horizontal ones crossing through them. A smirk was forced onto her face as the 'warden' came on by. A glance of disdain for Samantha Grady as he saw her up, awake and actually kind of alert.

"Mornin' Rivera. How's th' lil' lady?" Grin widened just a touch.

"Quiet, Grady." The burly, ugly sumbitch muttered, rattling the bars with the weapon in his grip.

"She must be feelin' awful good with you workin' in here and her workin' out her kinks with all the local boys in th'town." The grin didn't lessen. It was smug, unrelenting. She needed to get her licks in for the day. Had to feel something or do something about all this anger.

Rivera whirled around, hands gripping the bars either side of her face as he leaned in, breath stinkin' up the air immediately. His face was all fire and fury, and definitely about to open up her cell and wipe that go se-eating expression off her face.

"Rivera!"

"WHAT?" He snapped.

"Open up 'er cell. Money's been paid."

At that, both Sam and Rivera balked in surprise. Ta ma de?

The other guard-- Simmons-- made his way down the corridor, just out of sight with whoever he was leading down with him. Sam pressed close to the bars, eyes squinting to try and make out who the gui would bother to pay for her release. A part of her expected her old man to come into view with a few good words for how stupid a kid she still was, or make her swear to pay him back, but that wasn't who she saw. The grotty trench coat was the first sign. Tangled dreads was the second. Hands rested within the man's pockets as he stood before her. Sam backed up from the bars pretty quick-like. There was a twisted little snarl on her face. She glared, defensively keeping her distance from this whole scenario.

"Hey there lil' birdie." It was someone else's turn to grin.

"The ta ma de you want, Marlon?" Grady snapped a little too viciously for someone who'd just had their 'bail' paid for them.

"Now, now, Sammy. Is that any way to say thank you?" It was then that spring-loaded pistols popped out of the sleeves of his jacket. The two guards were dead before they even realised what had just happened. Amateurs.

"You got me a jailbreak. You actually read my christmas list." She snarked, watching him open up the cell, then move on to opening all the others. Like the good samaritan he was. He snorted at her comment, and she armed herself with whatever Rivera had been carrying, and then whatever both he and Simmons had in their pockets.

Marlon's only response was to turn around and thumb a little device in her direction. It released the electronic lock on her arm with a firm zap of terrible pain up her arm. It made her cry out and sink down to her knees, but at least she could wiggle the fingers now. A stream of deadly curses left her lips, but the former pirate captain was already dragging her to her feet.

"C'mon. Shake it off. Didn't come all this way jus' to get killed for this."

Which rose the question of, "Why the gui did you come here?"

He didn't answer.

SYR INTEGRA of CAUTION 2.0 created this and she will happily hunt you down, rip out your spinal cord, and beat you to death with it if you steal her hard work and claim it as your own. especially since she will gladly share it with any and all who wish to use it, provided they leave her nice, little credit attached.

[Wisper]

Approved m'dear <3