Eclipse Phase - Anarres
Phonetically Displayed Name: << Series of birdsong-like noises >>
— If you know the language package for the Neo-Avian language being developed on Mahogany, this translates as ‘Warm-Morning-Wind-Ruffles-Feathers’
Gender Identity: Male
Current Morph: Neo-Raven
Treek is a Neo-Avian Raven uplift, original genome Corvus Corax. Like most of his Uplifted brethren, he’s not exactly a regular bird in terms of physical configuration. His wings fold up more efficiently than a regular bird’s, more like a bat does, and have small but useable scaled hands on them. His feet are fully prehensile with opposable thumb-digits, and he commonly uses all four limbs with equal grace when working. Under a meter in height, he’s definitely a lightweight but is also surprisingly strong for his size – though he’s not about to win any wrestling competitions.
He’s a glossy black all over, with bright-to-dark purple highlights on his feathers that venture into the ultraviolet end of the spectrum, past human vision. Other Neo-avians and those with enhanced visual capabilities can see that he’s resplendent with an almost fractal-like patterning of purple coloration across his plumage.
Treek is an excellent pilot, competent mechanic, skilled linguist, the first Neo-avian poet to “publish” a body of work exclusively in birdsong, and arrogant. His workshop at the colony is geared towards repairs and maintenance for aerospace vehicles and industrial equipment and hosts a small still. Databases will confirm his whereabouts as being largely on Mahogany for the last several years, with some spotty records before then indicating that he spent a little bit of time on a scum barge with several other Neo-avians. Immediately prior to this, with a bit of digging, one may find evidence of a hypercorp having lost some “valuable animals” from their orbital habitat.
Concept: Neo-Avian Mechanic, Pilot, Poet
Early Life: I won’t be what you planned to get!
— Hatched in an incubator and raised in a brood of fellow neo-avians, it didn’t take long for you and your fellow fledgelings to distinguish yourself as truly sapient beings. The climax of years of effort to uplift the raven species – and oh, those poor researchers had no idea what they were in for.
The Fall: You can’t glide to escape velocity!
— The good news is, being a very expensive lab animal with limited civil rights means you’re too valuable to be left on a planet rapidly facing a very bad situation. Up into space with you, slip free the surly bonds of – oh, this microgravity habitat is pretty neat. And… the powerful rumble you felt on liftoff was something really nice. You can respect that kind of flight!
Post-Fall Adventure I: Monkeys break it? Birds fix it.
— This sterile tin can is no fun, is it? Also it’s sort of broken, and spare parts are in really short supply, what with your owner company not existing since the Fall and therefore not paying any bills. It’s a good thing you’ve got a good head for machinery. It’s a better thing that you’re small and can fit into tiny places to keep this cramped, annoying habitat working right until the next supply ship comes. And then do it again, most likely.
Adventure II: What we need is our own… EVERYTHING
— New alliances from the stuffed suits running the habitat mean that you’re just owned by someone else now. Sure, everybody respects you as a person (or mostly) and you have the run of the place (mostly)… but this being owned thing is really bad for the corvid soul. The time to make a run for it is now – the outer system is so tempting. Once you’re past Jupiter, nobody’s going to care who used to own you, you’ll be your own flock. All you have to do is help plan and flawlessly execute a jailbreak. You know… fly the coop.
Connection With Others: I’m Not Just Cargo, Dammit!
— Okay, so Trimurti was the pilot who took you off Earth when you were just a fledgling and still property. So what if Arlond was one of the ships that you took passage on later in life before you reached Mahogany? You’re more than just mass to be shuttled around; now you’re the one piloting them around.
Trouble: It’s hard, being Perfect
— Maybe it’s ego. Maybe it’s deserved. Certainly there are reasons to get a big head about being such a successful bird. But it’s a big universe and you’re still just one bird. Is all that pride really necessary?