Full name: Tyler Hubert Borealis
Nickname(s): Thrift, Ty, that crazy axe motherfucker, the Scot
Age: 26
Birth date: 21241031
Gender: Male
Position: Colonist, or is he?
Retired Military Rank: Corporal
Notable traits: He wears an eyepatch over his right eye for reasons he doesn't want to elaborate on, he speaks in a thick Scottish accent and he has a fondness for naming his weapons.
Persona: His persona would be best described as a cynical, sarcastic and ruthless asshole. You fall into critical condition in front of him, he will take it upon himself to end your life. No room for weakness.
History:
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Childhood Born to Trisha and Kevin Borealis, Tyler was an only child and his parents worked day and night. He was left with naught but his own devices to amuse himself, so he naturally became a brawler. He was the terror of the schools he bounced around, getting in fights with the bullies to prove himself, and more often than not, he'd win. His parents became exasperated in the end, so they shipped him off to military school, hoping that would curb his violent tendencies. It didn't.
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Adulthood During military school, Tyler promised that he would leave with a bang. They thought there'd be a party or some shit like that as a celebration. They couldn't be more wrong. When Tyler stepped out of the gates to the school for the last time, he pressed a button on a small remote, the only button. The school was engulfed in napalm and explosions and Tyler just smiled as he walked away.
He shacked up with some disreputable company and decided to take his woes and feelings out on the strongest corporation known: Weyland-Yutani. Him and his new friends formed the NIRA, or Neo-IRA, despite him being Scottish. He punched and/or decapitated anyone who brought this problem with him. Soon, the NIRA has gotten a cult following because of multiple explosions in various W-Y facilities, secret and otherwise. His second in command, Lorek Marthet, informed him about a new facility, Lazarus Landing, LZ-624. He deployed to the planet, under guise of a colonist...
Relations:
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Loves/crushes on: Ka'torag-na Vor'mekta. Only one who has beaten him with his favored weapon in a 1v1 duel.
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Likes: Prove yourselves worthy to be here!
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Ambivalency: Domnall Barclay and Melissa Wright
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Hates: Everyone unless otherwise noted.
Basic appearance: Tyler has ass-length auburn hair, somewhat unkept and ill-groomed. His flesh seems to be stained with dried blood and his eyes blaze a cold emerald color. He rarely smiles, and it is a gruesome thing to behold: He is missing two canines and his nose looks like it has been broken multiple times. His face is covered in scars both old and new, but one goes vertical over his right eye. His body is stockily built and it is evident he really hasn't decided to pick up a gun full-time. Everything else is mercurial.
Likes: Alcohol (the higher proof, the better), melee weapons and grenades.
Dislikes: Cowards, cowards, more cowards, and not taking at least one enemy down with him.
Strengths: Melee combat, a tactical mind, engineering skills.
Weaknesses: Overconfidence, being killed without a kill under his belt.
Other Info: Throughout his military career and post-career, Tyler has racked up a staggering number of kills using an artifact mine and a fire-ax. The number currently is 26. He is called Thrift because he absolutely HATES wasting materials. Every xenos he kills in glorious melee combat is a sacrifice to Cthulhu.
