Gregory
 |
Name: A name which is unpronounceable to those of us without chittering inner mouth parts. Nickname: Gregory, his de facto "Federation name", adapted from a few identifiable sounds amidst the gargles and hisses of his birth name. Age: Early adulthood Gender: Male Species: Spider-like humanoid Occupation: Starfleet Cadet, specializing in Engineering and IT Favorite Food: Nothing that they serve at the academy. I-is it really that weird to eat bugs? Likes: Working with machines, Earth music, Holo-deck adventure games Dislikes: Warp speeds... He still gets space sick. Best Traits: Hard-working, Accommodating Worst Traits: Shy, A bit of a pushover |
Appearance
Gregory is 5 feet tall, pretty average for his kind, but noticeably short compared to his peers, whether they're teens or young adults like himself. This combined with a bit of a high-pitched voice leads humans to remark upon how smart or strong he is "for a boy his age."
Even by standards of his own race, he is a pretty strong young guy. He has a muscular-chubby body type built from hard farm work and the overall prosperity that his people jealously guard. Compared to humans he is remarkably strong; not quite klingon- or vulcan-strong, but closer to those than he is to humans.
The more obvious difference between him and his peers is his face. His gray skin, his multiple, independently-moving eyes, and squishy chelicerae with retractable fangs. Inside his mouth are all sorts of teeth and complicated bits, such that he can speak human languages (and he is trying really hard, so he doesn't have to rely on the Universal Translator), but he can't speak them perfectly. He tends to stammer, particularly on dental consonants, and his speech falls apart worse and worse if he's very nervous.
His hands have three fingers each if you count the thumb, a fact which doesn't seem to impede him too much. What's far more inconvenient in his new Federation life is his big spider "tail". His uniforms and other clothes have to be made bespoke for his body; humans don't walk around with exposed jock-straps, and he doesn't go around with a breezy abdomen.
One of a kind
Gregory's always been good with his hands, and he's got an eye for detail. His family thought that, at most, he might do well as an artisan's apprentice. But he's more inclined to tinker with salvaged machines than weave silk, he's always been fascinated by their complicated structures and blinking lights. Above all, he dreamed of being whisked out of his hum-drum life, to find out what exists beyond his little home planet.
When he was old enough to chart his own path in life, and lucky enough to encounter foreigners that needed some help with their busted spaceship, he took the opportunity to venture off into the stars.
The wider world is so much more dangerous and complicated than he ever dreamed, but he knows he never wants to go back. He especially loves the Federation of Planets, he loves how open-minded they are. Things that his people always regarded as unspeakable taboos were suddenly totally and completely normal.
Now he could fiddle with all the tech he wanted, learn how they're made, make friends across cultural barriers, and if the opportunity ever found him, he could even love whoever he wanted.