NoOne

NoOne is an unsettling and inquisitive Corsair with a horrifying visage. It has a big, round body but long, thin arms and legs which move in disturbing directions. If you were to count the number of joints this thing has, you would stop counting at "way too many." Crouched down, it is about the size of a Scalfi. But standing up straight with its arms in the air, it might be about 20 ft tall from toe to tip. Speaking of which, at the end of its extremities are strange mechanical augmentations. It also doesn't help that this freakish package is wrapped completely in a dirty, old haz-mat suit covered in stitches indicating previous combat wounds. The faceplate of NoOne's suit incorporates holographic technology, allowing NoOne to call up emoji-esque pictograms to communicate its emotions in place of using its otherwise obscured face.
NoOne primarily interacts with the world through its gadgeteer prosthetics, artificial arms and legs that have the ability to produce seemingly any tool or weapon. NoOne stores most of its tools and weapons in its hands, while reserving its feet for firearms. It usually enters combat in stealth, preferring to crawl along the walls with its spider-like physique when circumstances permit. While few of NoOne's goals seem to align with the Party's heroic aspirations, it nevertheless often finds itself assisting them given its compulsion for cataloguing and repairing broken things. NoOne spends much of his time aboard the Nomad locked in its room, working on his candle-making hobby. Although, most well-adjusted residents of the spheres would find the scents he creates more nauseating than relaxing.

Early Life

NoOne hails from an ancient, undocumented race called the sKrlD-thrlD-brldpt that live deep inside of Source. They work to produce Nectar being paid in pieces of their native land. Because of their unique radioactive gelatin makeup, not only is it safe for them to work around unrefined Nectar, but thet actually absorb Nectar radiation. During the Nectar shortages, certain merchants started harvesting their people, draining the leached Nectar radiation as a substitute.

Finding a Compass

NoOne served on the Yànhuì (Ye-Ann HuWay). They were a scraggly bunch of misfits. Their captain, Sun Guan Yu, was the only person kind enough to accept it. One night, the ship was attacked and boarded. NoOne was greviously wounded, but the ship's lookout, Fang Jiang (Fung Gee-Anng) managed to help NoOne to a lifeboat at the expense of taking a mortal wound of his own. As he lay dying in the lifeboat, he gripped this compass hard to his chest and with his last breath whispered, “No one can have this." NoOne has carried the compass ever since, although it was never quite sure what it was.

Blamed for Murder

After the dissipation of his crew, NoOne wandered Sera collecting samples for his catalogue, often staying on the fringes of society given most people's hostile reaction to its horrifying visage. While visiting the town of Westfall, NoOne was imprisoned and blamed for the murder of a graverobber named Geoff (or Jeb) Murtry. NoOne was more puzzled than hindered by this turn of events, easily breaking out of its cage but sticking around to see what would happen. After the Party interceded while investigating a seemingly unrelated mystery in Westfall, the town's quarry foreman and defacto sheriff, roland, let thjem take NoOne with them, but said he’d appreciate if you could figure out who really killed Geoff (or Jeb?) Murtry, since the south side of town would be in an uproar if NoOne left without the real killer being identified.
After hearing so much about corsairs and compasses while travelling with the party, NoOne surprised everyone by revealing it had a compass of its own. It learned that his former captain, Guan Yu, was actually the brother of the Party's own Wukong. As NoOne had developped a great fondness for Guan Yu, it decided to join the Party's crew in order to prove its innocence and, more importantly, collect more samples. It unceremoniously threw all of Anh's belongings into the hallway, taking the fallen Scalfi's cabin as its own candle-making lair.

Race: sKrlD-thrlD-brldpt
Gender: None
Background/Occupations: Scientist
Current Status: In Party
Strangest Sample Collected : Hugh Surrey's 40-year-old feces