Naomi Éveline Diard
Central cast member
Ned, Sergeant Freckles
Late 20s to early 30s, usually.
Around 135#, maybe?
Dark ash-brown; prematurely graying.
Eyebrows, one of which got torn in thirds by a sand ghul.
Gray with iridal ephelides.
Human (Black Creole and Cajun).
Medium-light neutral brown; freckly.
Sturdy and muscular; hourglass figure.
Four unpigmented linear scars running "from cheekbone to hairline, narrowly missing her right eye." Nose has been broken at least once. Left lower leg is prosthetic. Tattoo on right shoulder blade of a bare tree with drifting leaves (eleven red and gold, two russet); may or may not have an EGA over her heart. Used to have a face for recruiting posters; you can still kind of tell.
Design reference here.
Residual military bearing.
She regrets every time that she failed to save someone's life.
Honorable to a fault, even when it comes back to bite her. Takes that motto entirely to heart, even when it comes back to bite her. Gruff, standoffish, somewhat abrasive. Raging PTSD and survivor guilt. Still smokes on occasion. Is a maudlin drunk.
Lack of military discipline sometimes gets her frustrated. This is why you're not re-integrating well, Ned. Also has some degree of internalized ableism.
Halfway-decent writer. Probably has a decent singing voice. Can wreck a threat's day from a mile off.
Probably low-key a nerd on some level.
Raging PTSD. Missing leg. Guilt complex.
As she'll remind anyone who underestimates her intelligence: she's an enlisted woman with a high-school education (don't mistake that for stupidity).
She's a messed-up ex-Marine (don't use that phrase in her presence!) who's still getting re-integrated into civilian life (in her defense: she was barely eighteen when she shipped out to P.I.), and who's survived something that she probably believes deep down that she shouldn't have (read: horrifying glass-clawed sand creatures forcing her to watch while they wiped out the rest of her unit).
She owns a sniper rifle. Specifically: a highly modified McMillan TAC-338 with a pepper laminate thumbhole stock. She calls it Fatal Error; it's even got the name woodburnt into the stock in retro-digital script. That's right; she named her damn gun. What a dork.
She's bi as fuck. She figured this out on boot leave, then spent her entire military career closeted as fuck.
She's an enlisted woman with a high-school education, and she cusses like the proverbial. Mistake that for stupidity at your own peril.
This shell-shocked jarhead is licensed under the following.