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Name: Admiral Yohn Vincere

Age: 27

Race: Human

Appearance: A man of fine tastes and an expensive obsession with gadgets, Yohn Vincere sports only the most fashionable thread and most functional gear.

Personality: Rugged but at times quite the opposite.

Past: Served in the US Army during the foundation of the Westward Expansion. This granted him the title of Admiral and gave him many opportunities, specifically when he began the Steamhorse Express group, Frontier Parcels.

Abilities: His abilities vary with his gizmos.

The Luminmag Jacket creates a virtually impenetrable electro magnetic shell that forces most metal projectiles away from Yohn.

The Dowsing Compass seeks out nearby water sources, from lakes to human beings with just a few knob adjustments.

Yohn is a talented falconer whose uncanny ability makes it appear as though his various feathered friends want to help him.

Weapons: Silver Revolver and silver bullets. Silver is a non-magnetizable metal.

Likes: Silver, Gagedts, Hand Fruit.

Dislikes: Not Hand Fruit.

Occupation/Other: C.E.O. and Courier of Frontier Parcels

Name: Sevig (Sev) McKalin

Age: 26

Race: Human

Appearance: Normally shirtless. Sev enjoys the brown clothing and little accessories here and there. He always wears a bullet belt across his chest. He has three tattoos. One brown tribal and one black tribal down each arm and the phrase "In hoc signo vinces" Latin for "In this you shall Conquer." He has brown soothing eyes, but they are normally covered. He wears anything to make him stand out, yet blend in at the same time.

Personality: A smooth talker. Sev is calm and collect. He always has a back up plan, otherwise... he's out of the situation at hand. He normally just goes where ever the wind takes him.

Past: Joined the U.S. Army when he was 18. He was sent on many raids on Native American camps. One raid, however was unsuccessful. He hated killing innocents, but he followed orders. He was the sole survivor in his regiment. He would've been killed, but instead he was taken as a prisoner, the reason why, is still unknown to him. For 3 years he lived with the Natives, slowly becoming one of them. He got the tattoos from a Native woman who he occasionally slept with. However, she died from another American raid that was successful. Sev killed the remaining soldiers out of anger. From there, he was on the run. He used what skills he knew from his childhood years in a gear shop with his father and the skills he learn from the tribe and the army. 2 years later, he found himself in a skypirate group. He was the weapons maker for about a year before he left when his life was in major danger from the crew. Which leads to now... doing nothing but traveling and doing odd jobs for some pay for food and drink. He pickpockets very rarely, but only from those who have more than enough money that it wouldn't bother them too much.

Abilities: Sev has a knack to build the weirdest things. He seems to have the ability to be able to take anything apart, and put it back together in the same, if not better condition. He also can remain perfectly still, increasing his accuracy with a rifle, and he can make up a good strategy for any mess he winds up in.

Weapons: Clogger, A three barreled hand cannon he made after he left the tribe. It has only three shots at a time, but he has an entire arsenal of types of ammo he can load it with. The bullets are all hand made.

Likes: Sleeping outside, disassembling things, drinking, women, and making new gadgets for his own entertainment or... to sell.

Dislikes: Greedy people, people who feel as if they are more important than the man next to them, and being hungry.

Occupation/Other: Currently unemployed.

Name: Todd Wakefield

Sex: Male

Height: 5' 10"

Weight: 150

Age: 23

Race: Human.

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Markings/Identifications:
-Eye brown piercing (Right)
-Large scar (middle of his torso to right hip)

Eye Color: Dark Green

Appearance:
-Dark Brown hair tied back into a ponytail
-Dark blue eyes
-Brown colored pinstripe shirt with dark brown vest and pants
-Steel-toed brown workboots
-Signature bronze pocket watch in his right pocket

Personality: Mostly arrogant and pompous, but a little-toned down among friends. He doesn't openly accept people into his life, and does not make any attempts to make/keep friends. He wanders from town to town- causing trouble and finding money where he can.

Past: Ran away from home when he was around the age of 17 years, due to 'conflicts' with his step-father. His mother did not chase after him whatsoever. Learned how to fight in an 'underground ring' while staying in a city for about two years.

Abilities: He can physically fight and hold his own for a good amount of time without needing to use guns/other weapons. He does know how to handle a sword but he knows better how to work handguns. He carries with him a butterfly knife- although- he has only had to use it once.

Weapons: Butterfly knife, and a small handgun.

Likes:
-Travelling
-Warm summer nights
-Fighting
-Younger Women (18-20)
-Gambling
-Being clean
-Food of all sorts (Meats cooked: rare)

Dislikes:
-Winter
-Working
-Horses
-Being around drunks
-Animals
-Faulty Equipment/Machines
-Waiting (for anything)
-Following orders
-People who say too much

Occupation/Other: Works odd-jobs around the towns that he travels to.

Name: H.D. Zantetsai

Age: 23

Race: Human

Appearance: H.D.'s appearance can be one of two distinct styles, like two different sides of a coin. The first side consists of a ragged, bullet-ridden duster, worn out pants and shirt, steel-toed heavy boots, a bandanna, and a wide-brimmed hat lined with spare bullets. The flip side is high-class, nice suits and immaculate grooming to impress the best of society, though his natural green hair can sometimes detract from such.

Personality- His personality can change from scenario to scenario, but a relative level of coolness under pressure is always there. Drinking causes his thought processes to shift drastically, making him a slave to his own urges. As such, he doesn't partake much unless among friends.

Past: H.D. was a high-status maverick from the get-go. He had a sharp eye for good deals and business genius. He also had an eye for justice, something taught to him by his old private tutor. He decided to stop his dirty business, and 'help' others stop theirs, through Robin Hood-esque embezzlement schemes. Once found out, he became the largest white-collar criminal in the East. He escaped, only to learn that cash and a silver tongue only get one so far. As such, he jumped aboard an airship and learned how the mechanics of it worked. Airships are a huge business- one he'd helped spur on in his glory days (see 15-17). Fortune was on his side, and he became handy quickly. After learning the innerworkings of ships and other devices, he decided that machinery was his key to salvation, and became a tinkerer by trade.

Abilities: H.D. is mechanically skilled, an ecstatic grease monkey of sorts. He also has a silver tongue, one that's kept him and anyone he's consorted with alive up to this point. He is a gunman, though not the best. He has a tendency to 'modify' his guns and ammo for an edge, though.

Weapons: Valde, his favorite six-shooter, silver coated and mirror polished. It has an unnatural inclination toward H.D., and all others who try to fire it have it backfire on them. He rigs his ammo for random effects, most of which he doesn't test until its time to fire. He also carries Schwartzlieb, his ebony lever-action rifle. He doesn't use it much, but claims his handiwork has taken away its ability to miss.

Likes: Machinery, screwing over the rich, games of chance, ladies.

Dislikes: Wanted signs, simple people, being on the ground for too long, missing a shot.

Occupation: He's a jack of all trades, but vastly prefers airship or machinery work. His expertise comes with a price, though...