Sira bint-Haroun
Artificer Engineer
Sira bint-Haroun
Species
Air Genasi
Appearance
Sira bint-Haroun is a slender air genasi with a body that seems perpetually caught in a breeze no one else can feel. Her skin has the muted blue-gray tone of storm clouds over sandstone, with faint whorls beneath it that resemble smoke trapped under glass. Her hair is pale bronze and wind-tossed, each lock threaded with fine copper filings that glitter and twitch toward nearby machinery. Her eyes are mismatched, one a clear sky-blue and the other the dull silver of a tuning weight, and they frequently focus several inches beyond whatever she is supposedly looking at. She moves with total physical relaxation, shoulders loose and hands dangling, even while launch towers shudder around her. This calm is contradicted by the frantic activity of her hair, apron cords, and loose tools, all of which flutter, orbit, or tap against her body as if caught in an invisible storm. She leaves people with the impression that they have just stood beside a sleeping thunderhead that happened to be thinking very quickly.
“Her voice is soft, precise, and slightly breathy, as if spoken through a narrow brass tube. She pauses to listen between sentences and sometimes harmonizes with distant machinery without noticing.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
Copper filings woven through her hair and eyebrows.
A silver tuning fork branded with the Consortium's original tower seal.
A thumb-sized burn scar shaped like a spiral on her left palm.
Her shadow sometimes ripples a half-second after she moves.
A brass stress meter that clicks in patterns resembling coded speech.
Voice
“A low, gentle contralto with a faint airy resonance, like wind passing through a distant instrument.”
Clothing
A heavily stained ochre artificer's apron hangs over reinforced charcoal utility leathers. The apron has too many pockets, several stitched shut, and one pocket containing a perpetually warm stone. Her magnetic work-boots have segmented brass soles, retractable climbing teeth, and red dust packed into every seam. A scarf of translucent gray fabric loops around her neck and constantly streams toward the nearest open air shaft.
Body Language
Sira slouches as if boneless, leaning against walls or machinery with one hip while her hands perform delicate, exact movements. Her head tilts toward sounds no one else can hear. In moments of genuine fear, she becomes perfectly still, and every loose object around her begins to vibrate.
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