The Price of My Soul

Name: Ena Theridan
Age: 14
Gender: Female
Race: Elf
Weapon of Choice: She's very poor at physical combat, but her magical powers are a force to be reckoned with, except that she has no real will of her own. She has the power to duplicate anyone from as little as a single drop of blood.
Ship Position: N/A
Ship Name: N/A
Other Position: Slave to Isis
Bio: Ena is largely lacks a personality of any sort. How exactly she came into Isis's service is a mystery, but she follows every order the devil gives her with no protest. Extremely quiet and fragile, even for one of her species, her emotional attachments are rare, but for whatever reason, she seems fond of Lennox. Her powers are extremely taxing on her body, but she will take no care for herself if commanded to do something. Measures need to be continually taken to ensure she doesn't literally work so hard it kills her.
Appearance:

Name: Amelia Rhys-Langelier
Age: 21 at time of death
Gender: Female
Race: half-angel
Weapon of Choice: Swords and bladed staffs
Ship Position: N/A
Ship Name: N/A
Other Position: Umballa underling
Bio: Once the wife and lover of Julian Langelier, the captain of the Wryven, and sister to Dustin Rhys, although estranged, since she left him for life aboard the pirate ship. And then...then she was killed by her husband's brother, Aidrian, and slipped beyond the shadowy veil. Now, her spirit has long since moved on, but her body is the reconstructed vessel created by Ena's power and Aidrian's order. She is completely devoted to the demon, and will happily do anything he desires...with no thought to the cost to herself. His will is the only thing that matters.
Appearance:

Name: Laurilie Kalesdetter
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Race: Elf
Weapon of Choice: Bow/shortblades her own powers of fire
Ship Position: Captive
Ship Name: The Hellion
Other Position: Umballa underling
Bio: Life has not been kind to Laurilie. She was happy, once, when she was very young. That was before that day, when on a stupid dare, Gideon entered the cave of the fire Guardian, a phoenix, and fought with it. The volcano that stood over their village erupted, coating everything in its heat. A heat so fierce that even those with a naturally high tolerance for heat and mild control over fire could not stop it. It consumed everything, and it was only by pure chance that she survived. She assumed she was the only one, for Gideon, her village, everything was covered in piles of slowly cooling lava. For awhile she could do nothing, recovering from her terrible burns, and it was probably only because of the intervention of several earth-based "cousins" that she survived to actually walk again. So now, lacking purpose and direction, she wanders the earth, with a stubborn hope that defies all doubt, that some other member of her clan still remains. She hates the phoenix for the destruction it had wrought, however, and seeks the Guardian in her travels, so that she may kill it once and for all.
Appearance:

Name: Lance Ventris
Age: This body is about 20 years old
Gender: Male
Race: He's something caught between snake and man. Some say he's a ghost, others believe him to be a forgotten trickster god. Mostly he doesn't care.
Weapon of Choice: Fangs are good, and the natural venom is nice, especially when you've also got it on the tips of your arrows
Ship: Hexus, though that name has long since been forgotten
Position: Being the only person on the ship would make him captain, wouldn't it?
Bio: If there are others of his kind, Lance has long since forgotten them. It is far from easy to keep track of things after countless lifetimes, each one in a new skin, wearing a new face until it grows too weak to continue, either through age or injury, and shedding it for something young. Each shape bears the mark of the snake and wears the fatal scars of all that came before, remembers the talents of previous lives.
His vessel is hailed as a ghost ship, largely because the few people to see it are unable to perceive the loyal shades of his past existences which man the ship. It and the man himself are a legend of sorts, which is quite alright with him. Having one's existance largely scoffed at makes it a hell of a lot easier to get away with things. It does, however, make it a bit frustrating to collect bounties from time to time.
Appearance:

Name: Kethry Mantris
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Race: Slyph
Weapons: darts and good old fashioned bow and arrow
Powers: Control over the wind and air, predictably. All she'd really need to do is whistle to create a strong breeze, should she scream well, there could be an unexpected hurricane if she isn't careful.
Ship: Nothing permanent, but the latest was the Seahawk
Position: Engine, sort of. She's a damn handy power source for ships that have the foresight not to rely solely on their mechanical power. Otherwise, she's capable of a number of odd jobs, though her strongest skill is navigation.
Bio: Is it odd, to be sane when everything you had in life was taken and shattered? Is it odd, to try to be normal? She'd been young, when she was taken into a clever band of thieves that specialized in human trafficking. 'Course they'd been attacked once or twice by the occasional lover or relation of the girls they took that managed to track them down. But like cockroaches, even when their group had been decimated, they emerged again from the cracks. She wasn't entirely sure which was worse...using her talents to get the men watching into such a frenzy of animalistic lust that it was almost dangerous to let them get near her afterward, or the actual rape itself. She decided the dance, because there, she could feel each and every one of them stripping her with his eyes. To them she was merely an object, one that oozed sex and promised fulfillment of their secret vices. Once, it had been a talent well-revered in her clan. But the thing it was reduced to...defiled it, made it almost...repulsive to her. And yet to dance, and be one with the air for a time was almost as much a part of her as a Song was to a Siren. It was a routine, eat, dance, and have rough, loveless sex with the highest bidder. She was their golden hen, the money she brought in made it so that she was kept under lock and key every time she wasn't onstage. And for one born to the air...well it was a very specialized hell. And a tiny pinch of salt in her food and water, not enough to totally incapacitate her but painful enough to keep her from resisting in any manner, kept it that way.
Then one day...a man had come, a sailor, had destroyed them, down to the last man and set all of them free. Some of the girls were totally mindless, lost to the drugs the ring leaders had given them. Others had gone mad and committed suicide soon after their release. Not Kethry. Oh no. She hadn't been broken in the slightest sense, it was simply not air's nature. She had fled like a wild animal though, and the past has instilled a wariness of the intentions of men deep within her. Her skills with the wind got her a number of jobs aboard merchant vessels, but she always picked those with a fair number of females on board, just to be safe. Currently her contract with the Seahawk has just ended, leaving her alone in an unfamiliar port. Not exactly a bad thing just a little...lonely. But then, the wind is a traveler and she must follow where it dictates. Every once and awhile, when she is sure she is alone and will not be watched, she dances, hoping to recover the joy it once gave her, and forget the past.
Appearance:

Character Name: Kestral Telin
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Race: Shi'a'in/human.
Weapons: Anything made of steel, knives, swords, and the like. She is well versed in all sorts of bladework.
Powers: Metal manipulation
Ship: Hellion
Position: Stowaway
Bio: Much like the falcon that gave her her namesake, Kestral has made a living with her blades, wandering far from one end of the continent to the other. Her culture trained all their children in warrior arts, though they were supposed to be for the defense of the clan. Horsemanship too, was one of their strengths. But then she was outcasted for something that she prefers not to remember. The relationships she now lacked with people has been replaced with a firm bond with her goddess. Even though she'd been outcasted, the Windborn shifter had not abandoned her, and so now she lives for her Lady, and that gives her nearly unshakable confidence and no fear of death.
Appearance:

Character Name: Keigan Frost
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapons: pistols, cannons, anything that goes boom....
Powers: He can easily rebuild/recreate things he sees or destroys
Ship: Hellion
Position: Weaponsmaster
Bio; Keigan has no problem working with fire. Or metal. He likes to make things explode, really. Putting things back to together again, is no real difficulty either. Which really, makes a perfect combination. It's hard to say exactly how he got on the Hellion, though it might have something to do with a couple of ruined buildings and a person or two caught in the accident. People, it turns out, can't be put back together...at least not all the way. But he's not running, not really. A life on the move just suits him better. He has a soft spot for animals, which has actually cost him a time or two. The patch in place of his eye and the scar on his cheek, for example, came from rescuing the monkey that always rides on his shoulder. Not exactly his proudest moment, they never should have been able to lay a hand on him, but hey, the monkey came out okay.
Appearance:

Character Name: Derek Shade
Age: 22
Gender; Male
Race: Human
Weapons: clawed chain, blades, poison needles...he's well versed in multiple weapons as a necessity.
Powers: Manipulation of light, or rather the lack of it. He can melt into shadows, and make them seem like different then they are.
Ship: Hexus
Position: Bodyguard of Tessa
Bio: Since he was very young, he was fighting. Violence is really all Derek's known, being raised by the blade. Maybe that's why he's just a little...odd. Yet he was one of the best, and so people hired him, odd or not. That is, until he got himself in over his head, and his hubris lost him a hand. That sort of disability was not tolerable in his line of work, despite the fact that it seemed to make no difference to his fighting ability. So Derek almost gratefully retired, though it was...an interesting transition. All he knew how to do was fight, so maybe it was only natural that he stuck with Tessa, the lovely and talented medic that helped him to adjust to the lack of the his hand.
Appearance:

Name: Maxwell Sheffield
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Human hound
Weapons: He's handy with knives, though he abhorrs using them for violence
Powers: Nothing, unless you count constant contagious cheer
Ship: Hellion
Position: Cook
Bio: There aren't many of Max's kind anymore. They're trusting and frankly naive nature left the majority open to manipulation and treachery, until their numbers have dwindled to such that seeing one is a rarity. Despite this, his small family was a happy one, living in a small port town and just getting alone amiably with everyone as a general rule. But there was a wanderlust in the youngest Sheffield that didn't touch the others, so he jumped on the opportunity to join the crew of the Hellion. He continues to be his usual friendly self on board, though he doesn't seem to have much in common with anyone else on the crew.
Not that he's the slightest bit concerned about that.
Appearance:

Name: Tanvir Esterelle
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapons: No one ever seems to think of using grappling hooks as anything other than a tool.
People are stupid.
Powers: He doesn't need maps or tools to set a course. He is always instinctly aware of where he is and where he's going. Makes it damn hard to get lost.
Ship: Hellion
Position: Navigator
Bio: Tanvir's relationship with his parents was...ugly. So much so that he shed the traditionalist name his traditionalist parents gave him and took on one of his choosing. And by 'his' choosing, he means 'his first boyfriend's' choosing. His parents, already appalled by their son's outlandish chosen behavior, could not handle the shame of a child who publicly lived in sin. So they forced him out of their home, and the sudden flood of shame forced him out of the town.
He wandered for a while, never sure where he was going, but never lost, coming to terms with the fact that he was now uncomfortable with the way he was, though without any intentions of attempting to change it. And it seemed, for some time, that he would continue this indefinitely. Until he laid eyes on the single most gorgeous man he'd ever seen, possibly in the whole world. Who just so happened to be the captain of a ship and in need of someone who knew their way around everywhere.
Seemed a little bit too much fate to pass up.
Appearance:

Name: Tessa Slate
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Weapons: She doesn't fight.
Powers: Nadda.
Ship: Hexus
Position: Medic
Bio: Tessa was likely the only Slate in the family's long line who wasn't particularly good with her hands when it came to wood and metal. She simply never understood the fascination with putting things together with little springs and cogs that made them tick and move. Oh, she understands it well enough, and could probably build most anything a person could ask for. She just doesn't want to, much preferring understanding how people work, the ways men and women are put together with muscle and sinew that makes them tick and move. Her brother, Bryon, was one of the few in the family who actively encouraged her own fascination.
He was really the only one she was reluctant to leave behind. But their aunts and uncles were smothering her, and Stefan offered her not just a way out, but love. She would have been mad to pass up that opportunity. And they were happy together, for two years. Then he got caught in a bar fight, and his injuries were bad enough to eventually kill him.
Tessa has never been able to stop blaming herself for not being skilled enough to save him. So she threw herself into her studies, learning anything and everything she could to make sure she would never lose anyone important to her again.
And that's the only reason she knew enough to help Derek recover from the loss of his hand.
Appearance:

Name: Finlay Eskovan
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapons: He has at least basic training with almost every weapon available
Powers: Not a one
Ship: Hellion
Position: Most respected deckhand ever, likely to receive promotion should something change the chain of command
Bio: The youngest of four children, Finlay was the last person anyone expected to enter the rigid world of military life. After a childhood and early adolescence filled with irresponsibility and a tireless quest for self-satisfaction, he suddenly changed. No longer content to simply entertain and be entertained, he found that he actually had ideas about the world and about life that he wanted to share. He wanted to help people. But his friends and family were long past the point of taking him seriously.
And so it was off to the Navy, where he learned more about hard work and discipline in one week than he had his entire life. It was a difficult adjustment, and one that no one expected him to make it through. He carried through only because he wanted to prove them wrong. A massive joke at his own body's expense. And then it was simply his life. His dedication and resolve took even him by surprise.
At age 23, he was inducted into a Black Ops unit and sent to infiltrate an organization under suspicion of creating and selling illegal weapons. Only things didn't quite go as planned. There was an explosion, and he was caught in the blast radius. Everyone else died.
When he woke up, there was a machine grafted onto his skin, its technology eerily similar to that which he had been sent to find and report. It kept his heart beating, too damaged to keep him alive without the assistance. His superiors expected him to be content with the fact that he was still breathing and leave it at that, continuing on with life as it was. But his morals got in the way.
He investigated the similarity between his own still-beating heart and the weapons he thought were being destroyed. The connection he found horrified him, and he could not stay silent.
So he was issued a dishonorable discharge, and it was arranged that he would never be able to enter a respectable profession. He doesn't know what they did, what they said or to who, but not even his own family will speak to him now.
Appearance:

Name: Xavier Crow
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Avian, Crow Faction
Weapons: Anything mechanical, though he's been trained with traditional weapons too, swords, knives and bow/arrow of course.
Powers: Nothing special, just a knack with machines. Taking things apart and remembering how to put them back together, that sort of thing.
Ship: Hellion
Position: Mechanic
Bio: He's not really proud of his past, a series of murky events that left him exiled with one ruined wing, taking the gift of flight given to all of his people away from him forever. It would be fair to say he took the job on a flying ship to escape, after all, he had dreamed of building such a thing one day. Being on a ship that can soar in the air as easily as he once did is the next best thing, even if it is a constant reminder of what he's lost.
Was he being greedy? That's what they told him when they called him a traitor and broke every bone in his left wing. But that wasn't it. Greed was never part of it. The wing they broke healed crookedly and would never open fully again. He was separated from the sky. Does he hate them for it? Maybe. But maybe he deserved it too, maybe his creation was an abomination. He just wanted to give other people the ability to fly too. The fact that he was working with the same group of people that had only a decade before caused one of the greatest wars in history was irrelevant. The fact that he might be atoning for the loss of the girl didn't matter. He ignored the subtle criticisms, the out-casting he received within the Aeries for his oddities, his fascination with the complexities of machines and later the men that created such things. He took the blame for a war he never started. Revenge never factored into what he'd done, right? Right?
Appearance: