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48,702 | 1,311 | 8 | 1,872 | 1,663 | Foreman Jo'ones recoiled once Ruth slapped him across the face. If reptiles could bruise, he'd have a real nasty shiner right now. The look on his face said it all. The shock, the confusion, the fear, he was not used to being treated this way. His misfortune was not yet over, as the imposing android Adelram Drax stepped forward, looming over him, and fulfilled the commands of his mistress. The lizard man looked like he was about to shake in fear, but was able to compose himself.
"Yes, ma'am," he acknowledged to Ruth. "I will ensure that the workers are more productive and efficient immediately. Is that the entirety of your reason for visiting today?"
Jo'ones stood at attention like a proud military man. In fact, he used to be. Prior to becoming the foreman of Red Rock, he was a member of the Galatec Fighter Battalion. If the entire division hadn't been shut down due to the development of cloned githkin soldiers, he would still be a proud soldier within the corporation.
The assistants did their best to ignore what was happening around them, choosing to focus instead on their work. They plugged away at computer consoles, directing various bits of machinery and workers in the most efficient manner they could. Break time had come up five minutes ago, but there was no way they were taking a break while the regional manager was visiting, much less in the same room as them.
Everything appeared to be in order on the viewing screen. The slav-er, that is, employees were hard at work. Most were glad to donate their blood, sweat, and tears without any external motivation. A very very small and select few happened to be in chains and receiving regular whippings by the githkin that watched over them. These employees were not quite as productive, but they did well enough.
"Yes, this really is finally happening," the mentor spoke with an air of relief. He stood from the work bench and placed the red photon morpher within a protective case, then sealed it in. Then he carried the precious weapon to a table which held the other 5 morphers, each in their own protective cases, and set it down next to its brothers.
"They may not be the most ideal heroes we could find," he said, turning to look at Samara and help ease her doubts. "But they are the heroes we need. At least, I hope they are. If any of them choose not to help, then we will send them back with the Refraction Displacement System, no harm done. It's not like they could report where we are if any prove to be hostile! Hahaha."
He made his way past Samara to a computer console. Sitting down, he began to access some of the security camera footage in the Red Rock facility. Flipping about from camera to camera, he stared at the various screens, trying to locate something.
"Necessity first, comfort second," he called back in response to his assistant's complaining about the heat. "Samara, I can't locate them on the cameras. You have those trackers active? If we can't see them, we can activate the Displacement System!"
Michael made his way through some dark, dangerous mine. At first he was surrounded by plenty of company. Other workers toiled away, githkin watched over them. A few githkin tried to give him trouble, but a single look at his orders and they quickly stepped aside. If it weren't for the fact that this was a hellish hole in the ground where people came to work themselves to death, Michael might have mistook this for some kind of VIP treatment.
After several minutes of navigating the tunnels, the population thinned out. No longer were there any workers. No longer were there any githkin watching over his every move. There was only rock, darkness, and Michael. The map became significantly more difficult to read as the lights in the area had burned out long ago. Something felt strange. The tunnels and equipment here were all old. Why would he be told to find new paths and ore veins in an old, unused tunnel?
It all came to a head when Michael came across a mine shaft with a large, rusted, sealed door. There was no doubt about it, the map told him to keep going. Now how was he going to get passed this big sealed door?
Singing together made the work go by faster, that it did. The githkin didn't seem to mind either. Maybe so long as it didn't interfere with production, they didn't care. Maybe they enjoyed the song too. Maybe it didn't even register in their tiny brains. Regardless, the two were free to sing through their shift and lift their spirits.
By the time they had gotten to 117 piles of rocks, Tommy found something very pretty. Very valuable. Absolutely fantastic! He got through the tunnel to a small opening and inside the crevice sat a piece of glowing red ore. It was the size of a basketball! Absolutely huge! Only problem was how heavy it was. There was no way that Tommy was getting that big honkin' piece of oranium out of the opening by himself, and Oliver was too big to get through. Digging through the rock would take forever! They only had one option, and that was to request the use of heavier digging equipment. Maybe some blasting sticks, or an ion drill, or hell maybe one of those slave driving githkin could just punch the rock. They were strong enough.
Meanwhile, Oliver caught sight of something interesting of his own. A single githkin patrolled through the tunnels, carrying with it a young boy no older than Oliver himself. The boy was badly beaten, exhausted, and likely on the verge of death. Still, the githkin carried the boy by his collar, dragging him along the ground when the creature was strong enough to lift the boy comfortably. This githkin was unique among its peers, as it wore a sash over its shoulder, and had a long scar across its face.
If spiders could talk, then this one would thank Jonah for his kindness. After all, it was only trying to make a living by eating pests. Really, it was one of the hardest workers in this whole damn mine. If anyone deserved a promotion, it was Mr. Legs, right? Well clearly Shplorn didn't feel that way, but she fell for Jonah's slight of hand all the same.
"Huff... Puff... Thank you, Mr. Fallen. You've saved my life yet again. I will see to it that you get a promotion, yes I will!" She attempted to catch her breath, recovered from hyperventilating, and recomposed herself before addressing Clementine. "Yes yes, I see you have an eye for detail. Miss Mayweather, I can tell that you will do a fantastic job. You have free reign to conduct your audits with my full authority."
Indeed Clementine did catch quite a few details that the layman would have missed. Most of it seemed to be missing wiring and computer supplies, but the list also included unaccounted for blasting supplies, food and water rations, and power packs. Yet the biggest discrepancy did appear to be a drill that had gone missing for about two weeks before mysteriously showing up again in the vehicle dock. Most peculiar.
"Mr. Fallen, I fear I may have tired myself. I shall go take a rest in my personal quarters. While I do so, I would like you to extend your protection to Miss Mayweather while she conducts her business here." Shplorn gave the smallest hint of a smile to the two as she spoke, then stood up and squeezed her way to the door, then vanished around the corner. | Name:
Jackson Trent
Nickname/Alias:
Jack, sex on a stick (imo).
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
. |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.
Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills.
Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
The Power Rangers
White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
Protecting people
The greater good
Dislikes:
Galatec
His job
Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control
His parents being under Galatec’s influence
Fears:
Slipping back under Galatec’s control
Not being able to find the Power Rangers
Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
Dying on the job
Quirks:
He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?
History:
Freedom.
That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.
Until the Power Rangers.
At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”.
That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
Animalistic instincts & reflexes
Can see multiple approaches to a problem
Agile on his feet
A linear understanding of science
Apparently quite the singer
Hindrances:
His perpetual mood swings
He always sees the good in people
Can sometimes be quick to judge
Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people
Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
An old mining torch
A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
10 shirts
4 pairs of jeans
A pair of combat boots
A pair of old sneakers
An old scarf
A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
7 bottles of water
A sleeping bag
9 MRE kits
Quotes:
“Cross your fingers.”
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into. |
48,703 | 1,311 | 9 | 1,966 | 2,601 | Tommy had acquired a few new bruises. The palms of his hands were filled with a rather unsanitary combination of blood, sweat, and dirt, though the calluses that had already formed there were keeping any deep cuts from forming. Tommy's knees looked much the same, as every pair of trousers he owns had ripped years ago due to his job. However, Tommy didn't care, as singing with Oliver really did make it all go a bit faster, and while it wasn't enjoyable it was certainly tolerable. Even better though, Tommy found a big hulking ol' vein of oranium!
He kept singing as he crept into the crevice where it lay, looking on the ground for a few pebbles of the oranium he could snatch. He would tell them of his discovery once he made sure he couldn't get just a bit into his pockets... If there was one thing Tommy made sure was not ripped, it was his pockets.
After a few moments, he yelled out to the tunnel. "I found a vein here! Can we get a drill over here? I can't lift this out by myself and none of you can fit!"
With that Tommy made his way back to the tunnel, continuing his singing as he waited for the githkin's response. | Name: Michael Sonnen.
Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother).
Race: Human.
Age: 20.
Ethnicity: African American.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye.
Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In The Mind
Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious.
Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions.
Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal.
Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different.
Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs.
Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Where They’ve Been
History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think,
This isn't right...
Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought.
Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off.
His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered.
"Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-"
It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself.
Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often.
Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it?
Powers: None.
Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner.
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Bonus Round
Quotes: "We fight for today!"
Theme Song: Throne
Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Red
Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung.
Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently.
Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets.
Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes.
Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty.
"Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you."
She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that.
By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic.
His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on.
Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening.
Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns.
"Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself. |
48,704 | 1,311 | 10 | 427 | 1,112 | with: Drax and the Foreman
Ruth turned to watch the cowering Foreman as Drax carried out her request. She forgot how literal she had to be with this robotic monster that she called a General. She missed having a capable, organic subordinate around that could understand her undernoted threats and requests. She would bear it in mind for future encounters. Drax was useful though, just not for these kinds of instructions.
As she watched the Foreman compose himself after the fear that had just been instilled within him, Ruth felt mild agitation course through her as her eyes narrowed while watching him for but a moment. Her mental link stretched out and she maintained constant eye contact with the Foreman as she probed his mind. A former soldier was it? A sergeant at that. He didn’t seem impressed with the fact the Githkin had taken over the military ranks as Galatec’s new cannon fodder. Ungrateful swine, he should be ecstatic that he wasn’t on the front lines anymore! Galatec was doing him a favour. What a disgraceful attitude to have as a Foreman of one the more important mining facilities on New Earth.
"Yes, ma'am, I will ensure that the workers are more productive and efficient immediately. Is that the entirety of your reason for visiting today?"
Well this one was certainly very inquisitive. She didn’t like that. Not at all. That was strike three, which was two more than she generally needed to issue her next order. ”Don’t bother ensuring anything, Sergeant Jo’ones.” It was the first time that she had spoken to him directly and she had purposefully ignored his final question. She waved her hand dismissively at him as she walked to stand beside Drax, her eyes no longer watching Foreman Jo’ones.
”Oh Drax, would you do me a huge favour and take this ungrateful snake outside to a nice and secluded area, that is easily cleaned that bit is important, and skin him alive for me please?” She looked directly at Foreman Jo’ones then and smiled at him. She walked slowly towards him. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Her smile widened even more as she watched his reaction.
”Then, Drax, I want you to take his body and smoosh it up into mincemeat proportions. It can do for some mystery meat somewhere. Be sure to store his skin safely somewhere and have it collected so that I can get someone to create a wonderful handbag for me. Thank you kindly, dear.” Ruth winked at Sergeant Jo’ones before she turned and strode away with the sound of her heels echoing in the now deathly silent room. She stood back in front of the screen that she had been perusing earlier and continued to watch for anything out of the ordinary. | Name: Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento
Nickname/Alias: Ruth, ThinkTank, Lady Regional, RM
Race: Iki'lek
Age: I’ve lived more years than you could possibly ever count, maggot.
Ethnicity: Iki'lek Hybrid
Gender: Gender is such a primitive thing, but I do have a fondness for the feminine attire your world has. So let’s go with female, for now.
Appearance: Ruth has two main appearances that you will see. Her public face is one that you want to give attention to yet makes you feel the need to divert your gaze at the same time as it draws you in. She opts for pale skin, sprinkled with freckles over its entirety. Her body stretches out to a modest 5’8” without the enhancements of high heels. (“These spectacular extensions for your lower appendages are absolutely marvellous!”) Her body type is that of womanly but well taken care of. When you can have any human body that you choose, why wouldn’t you give yourself what you feel is the most desirable body available?
Her eyes are generally a dark hazel shade with a very prominent black halo around the iris. Her golden, copper brown hair reaches just below her shoulders and is generally styled in some manner befitting those in the Business profession on Earth. She is a fan of feminine make-up products and has become very proficient in applying it to her face and nails. She has a mass array of different colours that suit her preferred skin tone and hair colour.
The second, and most natural, of Ruth’s appearances is not a common sight. Her race has skin that is silvery grey in colour that has a shimmering light to it. Her torso closely resembles that of a human in the sense that it holds the appendages and head together and contains almost all the vital organs. There are not just four appendages, there are fourteen. She has four arms, two at the same area as human arms and then a secondary pair sitting beneath those, protruding from the torso sides. The arms are very similar to human arms but are slightly longer, and there are six fingers on each hand with a thumb making it seven total. He does not have legs or feet, instead she has ten tendrils (see what I did there? I’m so funny…) much like an octopus or squid would have but these are full of muscle and allow her to move at high speeds and very erratically.
Her head is slightly more difficult to describe. If you imagine a generic Martian to a human you think of a bulbous upper head, longer chin area and giant, black, and bulbous eyes that are almost as big as the entire head. Well the bulbous upper half is similar to what Iki’lek heads look like. It reaches further out to the back of the cranium though, but not by much. The lower face is longer and more drawn out than a human but not quite as much as a Martian face. Both halves of the race have no nose, instead they have slits much like a snake would. The Brawn half have a large, gaping maw that allows them to bite their targets and to yell out of. The Brain half have no mouth as they communicate telepathically. For Ruth, as she is a hybrid, does not look quite like the two single halves of the Iki’lek race.
The Brawn half have smaller, more protruding eyes that face forward and have near tunnel vision while the Brain half have larger and less centralised eyes that rest closer to the sides of the skull to allow them to have a far wider range of vision. Ruth, however, has larger bulbous eyes that are slightly to the sides while still allowing her to see forward only if she so wishes thanks to her secondary set of eyelids which she can use as blinders. Her eyes aren’t black however, they are a deep, dark purple colour and her mouth is not quite as large as her Brawny brethren. She could bite onto you but probably wouldn’t be able to swallow your entire head like they could.
The final noteworthy marking of her alien appearance is that of the markings across her entire body. Her head, face, neck and spinal cord (at least what you can see of it) have sky blue markings, like that of a calligraphy pen being dragged across a piece of paper to create weaving lines that crossover and connect like a fluid tapestry. The rest of her body that you could see (basically just her arms at this point) are covered in disjointed and jagged looking maroon coloured markings. They are erratic and seem to have no pattern to them at all. Both of these markings look almost as though they are not actually on the skin, almost like they are floating on the surface of water and are in constant motion. This race has no hair on their body and, their tendrils stretched out fully, stand at around 6’5” in length from head to… toe?
Clothing: When in human form, Ruth can be found in a variety of business attire. Be it knee length pencil skirts with fitted blouses and a blazer, or perhaps she felt summery and is merely wearing an A-line skirt with a short sleeved gypsy top with a light jacket? She wears a large variety of clothing as she is so in love with it. She can also be seen in dresses, trousers, suits, shorts; basically everything at one point or another. She also will always be in high heels. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. She will be wearing them even when she’s kicking your ass.
When she is not in her human form, Ruth’s alien body is covered in an extremely durable, high density but lightweight battle suit. It covers her entire torso and chest area but leaves her arms exposed from the shoulder areas down. Her tendrils are entirely covered and the material has strong grippers within the material that allow her to walk on any solid surface. Her hands, all four of them, wear different gloves with varying abilities which will be outlined later. The material is a light silvery grey shimmering material that closely resembles the natural skin tone so it almost looks as if she is wearing nothing and that her markings stop at her shoulders and neck area.
Personality: Ruth is a very, very, very complex individual who is, technically, not actually an individual. Her core personality is strong, cool-headed, independent, manipulative, coercive, quick thinking, highly frickin' intelligent, tactical, charismatic and determined. She is one force of a woman and if you should find yourself in her path? Be prepared to be knocked the hell down and flattened beneath her immense force of presence. She is not a person to be trifled with and she has the capability to make your life, quite literally, a living hell should she deem it productive for her needs and wants. This is the Brainy variant that you will most commonly hear about when people talk about the Regional Manager.
However, there is more than meets the eye with Ruth and it is because of this special trait of hers that she keeps her true face away from the public. She prefers to do her dealings with people from a distance but when left with no other alternative, she will get her hands dirty. This is where the rest of Ruth’s mind comes out to play. She suffers from having a divided mind and as such she has a second personality that brings out the brawn in our villainous Regional Manager.
This side of her has the ability to have a very murderous streak and I do mean that literally. If you threaten her or really push her to the brink of her patience and piss her off? Say hello to the afterlife or whatever the hell it is you believe in because you can be fairly certain you will never see this world again. (Unless the glorious leader GM decides that you get to live. Spoil sport.) It is an emotionally unstable personality that can sometimes find it difficult to be reasonable. When in this state of mind, Ruth is very one track minded in the sense that she wishes to destroy you in every single way imaginable and possible. She will make you suffer ten times over and then have you begging for your death.
Likes:
Feminine Attire
Books
Stationary
Crushing her enemies beneath her feet
Getting her own way
Slapping people across the face (“How you humans manage to stop yourselves from doing it more often is beyond me!”)
Breaking bones
Winning arguments
Dislikes:
Not getting her own way
Crushing her enemies between her fingers
Ruined books
People stealing her stationary
Going more than an hour without slapping someone across the face
Getting blood on her designer clothing
Power Rangers
Cats
Fears:
Losing her status
Failing to reach her aspiration
Having her mind altered unwillingly
Quirks: She clicks her tongue at her subordinates in moments of impatience, her fingers often drum on any hard surface when she is waiting, her eyes narrow when she is judging someone/something and she takes a long, deep breath when she is about to go all Iki’lek on your backside.
History: Ruth’s race is one of the dozens of alien species that are part of the conglomerate known as Galatec. It was after Galatec began spreading themselves into dozens of planets that the Iki’lek’s truly realised they were split so purely down the middle in terms of what they can do. So the Brains began to work on finding a way to create the perfect Iki’lek. They used whatever resources became available to them as Galatec spread throughout the galaxy to create the perfect hybrid of the two halves of their race.
Ruth was not the first iteration of this hybrid however. Oooh no no no, she was definitely not the first. She was the 42nd attempt and she was a complete accident, at least according to the scientists that created her. That was a long, long time ago so the specifics of it have all been compartmentalised in her mind and isn’t something she likes to dwell on too much. The experiments at that time of her life were hard and unforgiving but they allowed her to discover the powers and abilities that she has now. She was only reluctantly let go by the Iki’lek scientists when they were forced to explain what they were working on to the other alien species that also made up Galatec.
It was when she was discovered that Galatec chose to put her through various training regimens to master control over her excessive strengths and courses for business and management due to her increased intelligence. During her rigorous physical training and exhausting mental training it was discovered that Ruth had a very split personality. She was two entirely different people depending on what she was focusing on at the time. This could become a problem for Ruth if she ever completely loses control over herself. It was a stressful time for her as she worked to become the “woman” that she is now.
It was during high stress levels and the will to escape the constant work and training that Ruth discovered her ability to shapeshift. She wanted to be someone else and to get away without someone chasing after her. It took her some getting used to but she soon figured she could make herself look like anyone and anything so long as she focused on it in her mind firmly enough and essentially willed herself to be them. She took this opportunity to show Galatec she was useful for more than just her mind and muscles. They began using her to help settle new planets into their phase of “life”. As she could make herself look like one of the home planet species they figured it would be more appealing to hear from a “local” to how wonderful Galatec could be!
Galatec gave her the regional management position on New Earth the moment that they set foot on it. She has been there since the beginning and has been working hard to make everything run as smoothly as possible for Galatec.
Talents: Talking, feats if brute strength, crushing things, screwing with people’s minds via telepathy, hard worker, doesn’t give in easily, she doesn’t know when to quit in a fight.
Hindrances: Dealing with animals, running when she’s not wearing heels in human form, unable to swim, cannot deal with seriously high pitched noises.
Powers:
Shapeshifting – As far as she knows, she is the only Iki’lek hybrid in existence so she is unsure if this shapeshifting ability is due to her hybrid nature or because of the accident that caused her creation. She can change her entire appearance to anything that she wishes on an organic level but she cannot impersonate an existing person. Her appearances are always an amalgamation of features she has seen on various people/images etc.
Pain Inducement – Can induce pain, psychic torture through a mental link from about 10 feet away and the pain is much stronger when she is touching you.
Force-Field Generation – Can create telekinetic barriers to block various power attacks and physical weapons. (I won’t abuse this and will always let the GM decide whether or not the barrier does/can block attacks etc.)
Telepathy – Is able to read the minds of those around herself. She finds it easier to read the minds of those she has physical contact with but can read minds fairly well within the same room, however she is not limited to just this distance. She can read minds up to a 20 feet radius but the further the subject is to the edges of her zone, the less she can read clearly.
Psychometry – The ability to read the past of a non-sentient object through touch. She can see the past 24 hours of an object. Can get a sense for who has touched/used/been around various items/rooms.
Brute Strength – Can lift 20x her own weight
Telekinesis – Control objects with one's mind. Cannot move anything larger than a car door.
Equipment:
Power Gloves – Four that look identical but each have their own powers. (They’re pretty damn basic weapons in the grander scheme of things. But considering the powers she has, I didn’t want to go OTT.)
Heat Glove – Generates a high temperature on impact with a surface/person.
Cold Glove – Generates a low temperature on impact with a surface/person.
Vibro Glove – Causes vibrations on impact with a surface/person.
Smoke Glove – Allows a smoke cloud to be generated when a small button is pressed. Otherwise it is just an armoured glove that hits a tiny bit harder than a plain old fist.
Quotes: “Maggot.” “Take that filth out of my sight before I crush you.” “Watch. My. Lips.”
Theme Song: This. :)
Aspiration: Complete and utter domination of everything.
The setting sun beamed into the executive office space through the opened glass balcony doors. Floor to roof windows matched the doors and made the entire wall seem as though it weren’t even there. A large leather office chair sat at a magnificent mahogany desk. The chair was facing out towards the balcony that was situated right behind it.
A small, balding and fairly plump human male was standing in front of the desk, his hands wringing a very sweaty handkerchief out onto his highly polished black shoes. ”I-I… I can only apo-apolo-apologise L-l-lady Re-regional…” The man stumbled over his words as they tumbled from his mouth. The sound of drumming nails on leather came from the office chair that echoed around the now deathly silent room. The chair silently swivelled around to expose its occupant. The drumming abruptly stopped.
Ruthalia Morphento, Regional Manager of Galatec on New Earth, sat upon her throne and exuded importance without making a motion or a sound. Her hair was bundled upon her head in a sleek bun that made her face look more severe than usual. Her cherry red lips were pursed with irritation and her brow may not have showed a single frown line but there was most definitely a scowl heading towards the poor man before her.
“Apologies are for the pathetic. Are you one of the pathetic, Mr Grant? Don’t answer that.” Mr Grant gulped back his answer, his mouth hanging open until the moment that Ruth swiftly stood from her chair and began to walk around her desk. Her Jimmy Choo’s clicked on the marble flooring with each step until she stopped before the trembling form that was Mr Grant. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? Come, let us stand on the balcony.”
She did not wait for a response before she clicked her way out of the office. The balcony was rimmed with waist high, black coloured, steel edged, frosted glass fencing. The sun was low enough that the shadows of the other high rise buildings and skyscrapers were now casting shadows across the building. Mr Grant hurried behind Ruth and huffed as he reached the fence. He swallowed hard and saw how high from the ground they currently were, 55 stories from the ground.
“Let me explain what is going to happen, Mr Grant.” Hands clasped in front of Ruth as she rested them on the fence. She glanced to her right, watching Mr Grant as he puffed and panted. “You are going to pay for the mistakes you have made. You are going to thank me for this outcome and be grateful that worse didn’t happen to you.” Her entire body turned towards Mr Grant and a very sweet, unsettling smile spread across her face. ”Thank you for making this decision so easy to make, Mr Grant. I wish you all the best.”
Ruth’s right hand sprung forward and grabbed Mr Grant by the neck. He coughed and spluttered, his hands grasping at her delicate looking arm. His face began to turn red when she lifted him from the ground, his stubby legs dangled as she rose his body higher than the topmost edge of the balcony edging. ”Do enjoy your complimentary skydiving lesson, Mr Grant. Consider it part of your severance package.” One fluid swing of her arm and Mr Grant was no longer on the 55th floor. An echoing yell of despair and utter terror rang out and lessened to the smallest whisper before long.
Ruth made her way back into her office, closing the glass doors behind herself before settling behind her desk once more. A small yawn left her lips before she looked towards the door of her office. “Please send in my 4 o’clock.” Her thought rang out and the buzzer to her door rang out before the door opened to allow her next appointment to enter. A nervous, bespectacled woman shuffled in and looked around the room. There were no other exits from this office and the fear that spread over the woman’s face made Ruth’s face erupt into an ecstatic smile. “Please take a seat, Mrs Grant.” |
48,705 | 1,311 | 11 | 92 | 2,185 | Oliver
Ollie was working faster and better than he had been a few moments ago. The singing really invigorated him. It also kept his mind awake so that his focus was stronger. He started counting out the number of piles they had gotten through as if each one was a major accomplishment, "117 down! A ton more to go!"
A few seconds later he heard Tommy call out about a big vein he needed help with. While the Githkin turned to the direction of Tommy's voice, Ollie saw in the corner of his eye the sash-clad, scar-faced Githkin. A flash of an expression that could be described as a mixture of anger and despair appeared on Ollie's face. *NO! Why is that one here.* Ollie hadn't even noticed the kid it was dragging at first, *What's it doing to that kid. No, no, no, no. It can't be planning to kill him. I gotta do something, but what? Crap!* While the Githkin in charge of Ollie were looking at the wall of rock between them and Tommy's big vein, Ollie tried to slip away. Grabbing a rock Ollie came up behind scar-face and was getting ready to smack it in the head. | Name: Oliver Johnson
Nickname/Alias: Ollie
Race: Human
Age: 16
Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish.
Gender: Male
Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age.
Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes.
In The Mind
Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself.
He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him.
Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air.
Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it.
Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys.
Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone.
Quirks: Is constantly zoning out.
Where They’ve Been
History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth.
During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret.
Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since.
Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face.
Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything.
Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic."
Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs.
Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Green
Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator.
Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster.
Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight.
Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light.
Zords: None at the moment. |
48,706 | 1,311 | 12 | 2,301 | 766 | Adelram Drax
"Yes, Madame Ruthalia." The giant android, having been standing right next to the now ex-Foreman Jo'ones, simply reached out of his arm and grabbed the foreman by the front of his uniform, folding the top of the fabric under his steel fingers. He lifted up Jo'ones, the reptilian's feet dangling in the air, iron grip unmovable.
Addressing the foreman's assistants: "I cannot be certain, but I would expect a promotion on the horizon for one of you."
The General, with the foreman in his right hand, lead with his left arm. He hunched slightly as he pushed open a door. Adelram walked among the bustling workers for a small bit, catching a few curious glimpses from miners and Githkin. He camly scanned the environment.
"Take the ungrateful snake to a secluded area, that's easy to clean." Perhaps some kind of metal platform where little activity was going on. Hm. Adelram flipped through his internal catalogs, but to no avail. Secluded and easy to clean weren't part of his searching categories. Drax thought that, given that there his a relatively high probability for this situation or similar to occur again, that the scientists should update his data-base to cater to such a extravagant demotion. Luckily for Drax, he had the perfect guide right there in his right hand.
"Excuse me, Foreman Jo'ones, do you know of a secluded area that would be easy to clean up in case of an accident?" Adelram asked, completely serious. | Name: GD-002-17
Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath
Race: Android/Robot
Age: 7
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: "Male"
Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form.
Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints.
His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder.
In The Mind
Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view.
When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords.
Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like.
Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike.
Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up.
Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission.
Where They’ve Been
History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax.
When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin.
He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him.
Talents:
Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down.
Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons.
He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander.
He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum.
He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent.
Hindrances:
He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck.
If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited.
Powers:
Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry.
Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain.
Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position.
Equipment:
Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers.
One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies.
Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time.
And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering.
He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air.
Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out.
Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision.
Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets.
Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload.
Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired.
Bonus Round
Quotes:
"..."
"The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%."
"..."
Theme Song: i dunno
Aspiration: File not found.
"Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure.
"The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun.
"Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight.
"This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply."
The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor.
The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail.
Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking.
Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up.
Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind.
When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere.
If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed.
He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level. |
48,707 | 1,311 | 13 | 2,305 | 2,032 | Clementine bowed slightly as she and Jonah were dismissed and Shplorn excused herself to her quarters. As she headed towards the vehicle bay, she decided to make some small talk, "Thank you for accompanying me, though I don't think protection will be necessary; unless the spiders here are more dangerous than I assume. Oh, but I'm not rejecting your company or anything; you're free to accompany me...I mean...I suppose it's your job..." Clementine chided herself for attempting to hold a conversation; a skill she knew she was bad at.
This break in conversation had Clementine feeling self-conscious and awkward, and she hoped Jonah would fill the silence. She looked at him, noticing his confident stride and professional attitude and wished she could be as sure of herself.
When they arrived at the vehicle bay, Clementine looked around, seeing if she could identify the employee in charge. | Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title?
Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker
Race: Humany Human of Humaness
Age: 21
Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases.
Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth.
In The Mind
Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need.
Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things.
Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others.
Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black.
Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can.
Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts.
Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own.
Where They’ve Been
History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens.
Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free.
After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously.
It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him.
Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things.
Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger.
Powers: N to the A biatch.
Equipment:
Blue Photon Morpher
Red-Light-Emitting Necklace
Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools.
Ripped up miner clothes.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!"
Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Blue
Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying.
Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through.
Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means.
Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it. |
48,708 | 1,311 | 14 | 2,250 | 2,211 | “That’s true,” Samara agreed with the mentor, however she was unable to avoid thinking about the risks that could come from it. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, it was that she was forced to trust a group of unknowns with a monumental task in such short time, and that wasn’t something she was one hundred percent on. Her passion to find the best decision for the best outcome was enough to give her headaches on a regular basis. Something could always go wrong with this; the RD System was fully functional given they had a target in range of light, but what if the suits didn’t have enough innate power to give them an edge? And what if they panicked from the stress of actual combat? Not all of them were built for that kind of pressure. It was enough to make her mind explode as the negative outcomes were pit against the positive ones. They had come too far to just lose like this.
Placing a hand on her steaming forehead, Samara wiped away another building mass of sweat that formed. She turned and approached her partner-in-rebellion, coming beside him as he flew from camera to camera, attempting to locate the candidates. Seeing the futility in it before he had, she had dug into her pocket once again to retrieve the miniature pad, opening it and connecting it to the computer just ahead. As he mentioned the tracker system’s readiness, the readings on the pad--power, shell integrity, and now came the faces and physical profiles of those that the trackers would be targeting--appeared on the main screen for the mentor’s viewing. “Already on it,” she replied.
Samara had begun to input commands onto the pad that allowed those trackers to be put to real work. They could track motion at a fairly strong range surrounding this location, but another strength they had was the ability to project image-reading waves thanks to the integration of a highly advanced ground-penetrating radar. The trackers were underwhelming as individuals, but together as a group they would manage to cover the depths of the mines in record time. As soon as commanded, the waves begun to travel through rock and dust all around them. In moments they had managed to uncover two of the ranger hopefuls. “Easy enough,” Samara smiled as two figures on the screen were located. With the RDS being prepared, Jonah and Clementine were marked by a violet and yellow hue on said screen, being targeted for the process. “Two down.”
It had taken a little more time, but the waves had managed to travel as low as level thirteen to locate the next two. Like the previous duo, the next two were marked by colored hues on the RDS display, Oliver with green, and Tommy with blue. “Another two,” Samara’s eyes narrowed, surprised that there was still one missing from the group. Level thirteen was very low already. For Michael to still be missing from the radar was surprising.
She gave it some time, and some more time, until an entire minute had passed. Her expression was one of blatant confusion and disbelief. Michael should have been found by now, but the radar continued to show nothing in every known location of Red Rock’s mining operation. The nerves had begun to work, making her appear grim rather than thrilled. The other four were simple to locate and were even in pairs to make things easier. Samara couldn’t explain this, and it was bothersome. To be the best at what she does meant failure could not be an option, especially when they were barely getting started.
“It can’t find Michael,” She finally said, trying to have the waves go from the start, closer to the base, and expand outward once again. The system worked well enough to find the first four, so it couldn’t possibly be broken. Samara’s eyes scanned the tunnel systems and operation areas for the facility along with the waves, slowing it down and making certain that they didn’t miss him somehow. They had passed Jonah and Clem—already locked by the RDS—and traveled lower, soon passing Oliver and Tommy once again. Nothing.
“He’s—he’s gotta be here somewhere,” Samara muttered worriedly. It wasn’t impossible for them to continue without him, but Power Rangers worked much better in a complete set. He wasn’t high, nor was he low—he was simply nowhere to be found. “Do we continue with the plan and find him later?” she asked her partner, who was sure to know how to proceed. | Samara Morgan
Name - Samara Morgan
Nickname/Alias - N/A
Race - Human
Age - 23
Ethnicity - African-American
Gender - Female
Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis.
Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend.
In The Mind
Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends.
She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest.
However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood.
Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right.
Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously.
Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames.
Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her.
Where They’ve Been
History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background.
One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed.
It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold.
It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking.
The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way.
Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising.
Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture.
Powers - N/A
Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone.
Bonus Round
Quotes - No.
Theme Song - Never.
Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary. |
48,709 | 1,311 | 15 | 1,285 | 468 | “Of course mam, please rest well.” He said, saluting before walking out.
Now that struck a nerve in his “not right bone”. She sent him away, with a stranger. She let herself be alone, something that contradicted her earlier behavior. Things were beginning to make less sense and it didn't sit well. If he cared enough, he might have said something but his job wasn't to question orders, it was to follow them. He had a nice thing going and while he still heard that annoying echo of a certain someone in his head, he had no plans to go full on rebel and ruin his own life.
Still, his superior's behavior nagged at him but as he walked with the accountant, he found himself pushing it to the back of his mind. Better to be alert than than distracted by doubt.
And as for said accountant, she was....talkative. He wasn't a huge fan of talking to others, obviously, and he didn't really like to listen to other people, especially when on the job as it was a huge distraction. Instead, he kept silent and looked forward as they walked towards their destination. When they reached the vehicles, he stood with arms behind his back and feet together, resuming his professional stance from earlier as they waited for the employee in question. | Name: Jonah Fallen
Nickname/Alias: No
Race: Human
Age: 21
Ethnicity: East German on his mother's side, Russian on his father's side. He's also part polish and 1/15th Indian(not Native American) from his great grandmother.
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Jonah is a light skinned male standing at 6'1 with toned muscles from working and his training. He has dirty blonde hair that he likes to keep short and sweet blue eyes that are usually seen sharpening at things he finds annoying. Along with those penetrating blues, he wears a set of thick rimmed glasses and keeps a small “glasses cleaning kit” in his pocket when ever maintenance is required. Despite working out daily, he appears as an average looking young man when wearing long sleeves since he focuses more on toning his muscles rather than having huge ones. His slightly chiseled features are smooth but he has some hair on his stomach.
Clothing: He likes to keep things simple so he'll often be seen in a plain shirt and some jeans, he doesn't lean towards one color over the rest but is often seen in black or blue since his mother used to tell him it fit him best. He prefers short sleeved shirts and long pants but will change that up if it becomes uncomfortable to move in. For that same reason, he often sports sneakers as they are easy to move around in.
In The Mind
Personality: Jonah has an independent personality, he strives to be the best he can be because that's all he knows how to be. He keeps a cool head under pressure and always does his best to figure out the best solution to the problem at hand. He doesn't believe in good or evil, stating that all things are objectively of the same value. Often quiet unless spoken to, Jonah keeps an air of contemplation about himself and makes a note to distance himself from others so that they don't become a liability. While this method can supply an incredibly sturdy strength, Jonah's logical outlook can at times give way to his inter turmoils.
See, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he is not always as cool as he thinks he is. While strong and independent, Jonah's attempts at apathy hides the fact that he does care about the people around him. His emotions are often the one thing he believes holds him back but they often supply more to his motives than he'll let on. Never to show fear, never to admit defeat, Jonah's logical thoughts can turn to mush when faced with having to deal with some of his inner-demons.
Likes: Books that make you think about things. Silence.
Dislikes: Stupid people. Self righteousness.
Fears: That his rationality is just cowardice, that he's simply avoiding his greater emotions and is a hypocrite for telling people to not be controlled by them when he's letting them force him to flee from himself.
Quirks: He loves to read, mainly books on philosophy which can sometimes overlap with books on strategy though most books on the art of war were destroyed. When upset or feeling unhinged, he'll take to cleaning his glasses to regain a form of control over his person.
Where They’ve Been
History: Jonah grew up in a small apartment in a not-so-friendly part of the city. It wasn't perfect but he had what he needed. His parents, on the other hand, were not quite as okay with their arrangement as he was. Starting from the womb, his parents pressured him to be the golden-child that would sky rocket them to the big times!
Whether it was mathematics or sports, Jonah was told that he had to succeed to make life worth living for his family. He followed every rule but still slipped up, receiving negative reinforcement when he did so. But, eventually, he began to catch his stride. He started winning soccer games and getting A's on his tests and suddenly the negative reinforcement stopped. He was happy, his parents were happy, everything was better.
Until he started hating his activities, started getting tired of waking up and never doing the things he wanted. At first, he hated this turning in his stomach because he loved his parents but he still couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him so mad at them some times.
He didn't have friends to talk to so he sought knowledge in his books. The library was a short walk from his home so he'd spend as much time as he could just reading.
He had a love for philosophy and thinking and used ideals he learned to come to the conclusion that what was happening to him wasn't a bad thing, it was just a “thing” and that him giving way to subjective beliefs was what was causing him problems internally. Eventually he began to distance himself from his parents until he didn't see them as his parents anymore, he saw them as just another problem. By the time he was ten years old, he had developed a form of detached apathy, a learned behavior he adopted to keep his emotions in check. Suddenly, he didn't smile as much. He didn't laugh at all and he didn't speak quite as much as he used to. He was only a child but he got better at rationalizing with age and by the time Galatec seized complete control, he was already stead-fast in his thought process.
Besides, honestly, life didn't really change when they arrived, not for him any way. His parents went to work and left him with his books, though the material was now more about how to serve the greater good than anything else. They confiscated his other books on philosophical thinking and mathematics, apparently those were “dangerous books that brought about dangerous thoughts”. He grew up in that situation, unaware of how much the world was going to continue to change.
Time went on, and just as he thought, people began to cope with the change. It had been years, and like all things that occur, what was once “horrible tragedy” became “yesterday”. Life was in a constant state of flux and he wouldn't let such a fact break his concentration.
His mother, now a widow after the passing of her late-husband, pushed Jonah to make a name for himself in the new society, she saw that he was different than everyone else now and thought she could bank on it. Jonah agreed because he didn't want to be thought of as expendable, besides, working hard was how he made it through life, keeping his center is how he survived. He had to keep a rational mind and continue moving forward.
And that's exactly what he did.
He began working as soon as possible, Galatec didn't care about age so long as their workers knew what they were doing. Eventually, he stood out and worked his way up, volunteering for the riskier parts of the job until he was being looked at by the higher ups. He refused to sit idle, not for honor or pride but because he knew that he only got one chance at life, knew what it meant to waste time and effort.
Through it all, he kept his composure. He rationalized everything he saw, closed his eyes and reminded himself about the philosophies he put his trust in because that's all he had to stand by. Maybe he had problems with the blank eyes of some of the other workers, maybe he would be up at night, trying to see why his own eyes still flickered with life, maybe he wondered about the girl he once saw with the same eyes as him. But that didn't matter, work mattered, staying alive mattered. “You don't get second chances at life.” He reminded himself on those nights. “Galatec is in control, there is nothing you can do, don't be illogical, keep yourself centered...” Like that, every day. “What is is, and what is not is not.” They were truths, he could rely on truths. He just couldn't stand with them in his entirety. After all, he was still human.
When the opportunity arose, Jonah volunteered for bodyguard duty, knowing that it meant he'd be given martial training and hoping it would supply a better standing for himself and, by extension, his mother. He was healthy enough, had a strong build from staying fit so he didn't have much trouble being selected. His training went by pretty easily as he took rather well to punching things into submission, perhaps due to some seriously repressed rage?
Whose to say?
After the initial adrenaline of letting loose for the first time wore off, he began practicing more at home, honing his reflexes as best he could. While not a god of the martial arts, he was able to prove himself worthy enough to stand guard for some big shots in the corporation. It didn't involve much, just watching and waiting for anything to slide by, a pretty simple procedure. As time went on, he did his work well, making a small name for himself with the others in his profession. It was an easy life really, easier than manual labor though how he trained at home, you'd think other wise but he still felt an unease about himself .
One of which was when he first met a member of the rebels, a group that had yet to come to terms with what was and tried to ruin the status quo. Didn't they understand the feedback of what they were doing, how nothing changed but the amount of panic they caused to minor citizens?
He had been on a regular patrol when he saw one, a rebel running from some other guards. He moved to assist but noticed that he recognized her, she was the girl with eyes like his, eyes still flickering with life. He wasn't sure why, but he let her pass, let a dangerous rebel pass by without a fight. She looked at him at as she ran by, first with confusion and then with a small smile continued on her way. He didn't realize it until turning around to see his reflection in a window, didn't even recognize the unfamiliar sensation...
But he had a smile on his face as he watched her disappear around a corner....
After the encounter, he moved out of his old home and got a small apartment, feeling that the connections he had were clouding his judgment. Something about having to see his mother's eyes made him nervous so by 20 he was gone. Before he left, he promised her that he'd keep doing his best, though he didn't see the point in the ritual since he planned to do so anyway. His life was steady, to a degree but all of that, his worries and his real desire, came to a front when he was faced with a life changing decision.
It had been so normal, training had gone well and nothing out of the ordinary had shown up as he escorted his charge through the street. Until suddenly, everything went to hell. Someone blew a bullhorn and a fire erupted on his left, a bit distraction for the person running towards the target, his charge. The attacker, a masked assailant ran in a panicked frenzy with a scream of desperation. They were part of the rebellion. Obviously, the attack failed, Jonah struck their weapon to the ground before a sharp low kick knocked away their legs and they were falling to ground. The assailant scrambled to their feet and began to scurry away, Jonah gave chase and they made their way all the way out to the coal mines.
“Stop chasing me!” The assailant shouted as they jumped into the large ditch where the entrance was located. The masked fighter tripped on their landing and fell with a huff. As Jonah followed suit, landing in a roll, the attacker made one last lunge that Jonah quickly put a stop to when he threw them to the ground with one arm twisted behind their back. “Let me go!”
“You are weaker than me, you should have been prepared for this outcome.” He responded as he pulled off her mask to reveal....
The girl with eyes like his.
Yes, the girl he had let go earlier came back, the one he used to see when he thought about the life he was living came back after failing once already. Why did she come back, why didn't she learn her lesson and why was he thinking about letting her go again. Why did seeing this person fighting still make his heart stop a second, make him think about what he could be doing differently.
“I know you, you're the guy who let me by the last time.” She said in realization.
“And you're the one who was dumb enough to go and come back after getting a second chance at life.” He responded, deadpan as he pulled her to her feet.
“What point is there to life if you can't make your own choices?” She retorted with a strange fire in her eyes. She broke out of the grip and glared at him. “You and I have the same eyes you should see things a lot clearer.”
“Don't you understand, the war's already over.” He responded coolly. “This isn't your last pitch effort to save the world, we're not one city away from being under their control and you aren't the last key to the puzzle.” His steely blue eyes cut through her. “We've lost, the invasion you're trying stop? That's come and gone and people have moved on with their lives, what is is and what is not is not so stop living in a fairy tale world and get it together or you won't even have a life to cry about.” Those were the facts, the rebels should know that. Galatec was already in control, there wasn't a war to fight anymore, all that was left were lives to live as best as possible. Throwing yourself into a self-righteous ideal only serves to get you killed and there's no coming back from that. “Clearly, it was a mistake to let you go, I won't make it again.”
“Okay,” She still had a smile on her face though. “than why am I not being turned in right now?” And then he had to be quiet as her smirk grew. “Why do I know that you're never going to turn me in?” She walked up close and never broke eye contact. “It's because you know what they'll do to me, don't you?”She took a step forward and he took one back. “You get how that's wrong, and you care.” She stepped passed him and he turned his head but didn't move to stop her. “Ya know, a guy like you could do something if he wanted, way more than me.” She climbed out of the hole before turning to look down at him and give a quick and playful salute. “Maybe stop trying to make sense of the situation and find out what you really believe, you're a human so you should act like one!” She ran off around yet another corner, leaving him to his thoughts.
“Crap..” He said to himself.
Why did he let her let go...again!?
Why did he smile the last the time, why doesn't he feel bad about doing it now? Maybe it was an idiotic thing to give up on the ideals of right and wrong, maybe he had been idiotic about a lot of things. He had tried doing it his way for as long as he could remember, it was how he survived but was surviving and living the same thing or was he making them the same so he could deal with the situation? What were his real motives for his way of thinking, how much was logic and how much was fear?
He stood there at the entrance of the mine, thinking to himself about what he'd do next.
Talents: Logical thinking, more than anything else. Jonah may be good at fighting but that's a skill, his true talent, which could be considered the back bone of all his skills, is his logical mindset which gives him the ability to strike precisely and plan accordingly.
Hindrances: Empathizing, holding his temper, admitting he was wrong, and expressing himself.
Equipment: Morpher(Blue Ranger). A normal combat knife he keeps on him for special occasions and his glasses/glasses cleaning kit.
Bonus Round
Quotes: “What is is, and what is not is not.”
Theme Song: nope
Aspiration: To find out what he really wants in life.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation:Violet
Primary Weapon:THE PHOTON BOW
The photon bow is a light based, long bow that generates arrows of pure energy to strike down its target. The bow is capable of firing multiple arrows at once with its average maximum being four unless overcharged (which will result in a rain of twelve arrows before the weapon is forced to recharge). By turning the bow, one can focus the arrows into one incredibly condensed and narrow blast, but this attack takes a lot of time to charge which leaves the archer open to attack.
As each attack's quantity and quality are affected by both how long and in what way a person pulls back the bow string, the bow is not for the clumsy or undisciplined. It takes timing and calculation to bring out this weapon's maximum potential.
Energy Shield:
His shield is a circular shape, perfect for blocking attacks. It's a very nice shade of purple and glows in the dark.
Blaster Design: Silver trim, black trigger, mostly violet. It has a sleek design with the gun's barrel having a thin line of silver across its top. The actual muzzle is the same pitch black as the trigger and there's a neon line of green running along the side of the gun.
Powers: As the violet ranger, Jonah has the ability to see across all spectrum of sight. He makes calculations on how to strike next by scanning people's bodies with X-Ray vision and using infrared, he has the ability to shoot people down and fight accurately in the shadows. Along with X-ray and infrared, Jonah can see UV light and Radio waves along with much more. With vision beyond an eagle's, Jonah can strike down any opponent with deadly precision.
Zords:N/A
Jonah stood behind a lone tree with his binoculars set to night-vision, the darkness only lightened by the stray strands of the moon.. He had set up his sting in a small park for kids, surrounded by small shrubbery and a few trees all of which was going to be demolished soon. Across from him stood the construction zone where they were working on a 20 floor parking garage. As if the world needed more places for Galatec to park their fancy vehicles.
He was there because there had been a report of beasts getting loose from the science division, a few Githkin test subjects had broken out of the lab and ran off into the city with a few people commenting on seeing them in the park at night. No one was advised to stay indoors because Galatec didn't want panic to ruin their precious balance which meant the people of the city were being left high and dry. Instead, curfew was moved up to 9:00 pm, lucky there weren't any encounters in that short amount of time. But now, night had fallen and anyone not in doors was a target which didn't seem to matter as there had been no sign of any people for awhile.
Jonah wasn't sure if he was happy or sad about that.
In this part of town there was always someone trying to get one over on you, he remembered hearing gun shots from his window from time to time, now he doesn't hear anything, no crimes, no muggings just the silence of night.
“Every thing's so peaceful now.” He thought to himself as he watched the area. It was nights like these where he was the most conflicted. He was about to stop a few monsters that could kill a lot of people but he wasn't sure if the city has ever been safer than it is now. Nights like these could happen every day, a few Githkin escaping every night and it might not even make a dent in Earth's war torn history. This was one of the main reasons he couldn't except the other ranger's idea of a righteous victory, he couldn't say that Galatec wasn't a benefit to earth as a whole. He certainly got higher in this society than his background would have allowed him to before, there wasn't much prejudice or pollution or war. Just work and while that might be boring he couldn't say that weren't plenty of people who should only have that option in life.
*rustle*
His gaze instantly went to a bush on the opposite side of his hiding place. His hand went for his morpher but he didn't move, he wouldn't till he confirmed his target. As he watched, two figures popped out of the bush, they looked around warily before fulling stepping out into the moonlight, revealing their small frames.
Children, two of them, they walked around as if trying to find something. The first was about twelve while the other was at least 13.
Jonah didn't move from his post but instead used his binoculars to scan them closer. He noticed that they weren't frightened, instead being rather resolved. Judging by their hooded attire, they must have planned to be outside tonight. Hooded children out scouting the night sky with an emotion in their eyes, they must be part of the .5% meaning..
They were rebel scouts.
“Great, just what I needed.” Jonah scoffed to himself, obviously not thrilled with the idea of having to deal with another rebel problem. Those guys really need to start leaving things to the professionals. Not that he was any more of a professional than they were but he definitely had more combat training. Luckily they didn't spot him as he hid in the shadows, to bad a very aggressive group of something had the duo in their sights.
The rogue Githkins, five of them. The creatures moved toward the children and they screamed. The scout duo clearly hadn't had access to the same reports that his team had. The younger child ducked behind the eldest but still held some form of courage as the creatures drew nearer. The first Githkin raised it's hand to strike but the blow was offset by a timely thrown stone that knocked it's hand off course. The beast quickly turned to identify the attacker only to be met with a larger stone striking it in the face, in fact they were all being pelted with stones, most at their legs and ankles but a number of them aimed at their eyes and face.
The children were initially scared but then became rather perplexed when they saw their would-be attackers being pelted. They stood there curious before a glimpse of a figure in the shadows ushering them to escape had them nodding and running back into the bushes, leaving as fast as they had come.
“Perfect.” Jonah thought within the shadows. “They didn't see my face and I managed to sit some of those idiots in the eye.” He quickly scanned them over, three of the five still looked like they had a decent control of their faculties. “Even blind, that's still too many for my liking, I'll have to fight them on my terms if I wanna win.”
And then he remembered the construction yard.
“That's it.” He dashed out of the foliage to close the distance between him and the Githkin, Shocked at first, one made a fierce swing he ducked and rolled under before popping up to his feet in between the two blinded by stones. He deflected a left hook with an open palm before his leg whipped up to kick both eye damaged Githkin's in the chest, leg swinging back and forth between the two of them.
"As I thought." The attack merely stunned them and soon the others were on him as well, swinging violently as he back flipped away and skidded to a stop. “That's right, your enemy's right here,” He cockily saluted before running into the parking garage shadows with the Githkin's hot on his trail. “Alright,” He swiped his hand over his wrist and his morpher flashed
“Strike force, flash forward!”
In the parking garage on level three, the Githkin's crept. Deep into the shadows they lurked, foot steps echoing in the hollow space, often turning at the sight of a shadowy gray figure passing by them like a phantom. Their eyes scanned the area for their prey but to no avail. As they passed by a pillar of stone, a sound, a click, had them halting in surprise. They lay unaware of who was on the other side.
"X-Ray activated..."
Jonah, donned in dark purple armor of his ranger form stood with bow drawn. The dim light of the bow focused and tightened as the arrow of light condensed.
"Focusing rate: 100%"
The creature's pondered as they began to take a step closer to the pillar of stone.
"Firing..."
Jonah released the bow string and the arrow shot through the stone pillar and the skull of the Githkin on the other side.
The other soldiers went frantic on the defense when their companion turned into ooze but Jonah was already moving.
"Infrared activated."
His vision swapped out and suddenly he could see all of them clearly as they scrambled in the darkness. He pulled his bow string back before dashing out of his hiding place in a dive roll, landing on one knee with bow drawn and arrows already appearing between his fingers. He let it loose, just as the nearest Githkin began to notice his presence, and littered its body with three arrows to its chest. It screeched before dissolving and suddenly he couldn't hide anymore. They closed in but Jonah was already readying his bow as they rushed him.
“Here we go..”
He dashed backwards as one came down on him with a punch that cracked the concrete. As it moved to continue its rampage, he released a charged arrow through its chest before running up to back-kick it into the others and fire another three arrows into the group. As they scrambled to regroup in the shadows, he switched to X-Ray and scanned them for damage.
“That last attack was on stun but the one in front received most of the damage and can't move, I'll focus my attacks on the two left as the weakened one slows them down.”
By the time he finished his thought they were on him again. He back-flipped to dodge a high swing and side stepped the flying kick from another, striking the attacking Githkin with his bow before having to dash backwards and avoid the mighty swing of the weakened Githkin. He returned to the fray with a flying knee that struck the weakened Githkin in the chest, knocking it into one of its companions and freeing Jonah to strike down the one now left alone.
It moved to attack but he back-flipped away to skid across the ground with bow drawn. As the arrow charged, he dodged the incoming blows from the Githkin soldier; ducking and weaving past each punch, smacking away the clumsy kick that followed with a high kick of his own and bringing up his bow before releasing it at point blank range to turn the soldier's skull into gray goop and watching as the rest of its body dissolved.
Just as the other two Githkins managed to center themselves and go for a retaliation, his purple suit turned dark gray and he faded back into the shadows. Like a phantom, he circled them as he slid from pillar to pillar in the darkness. With a steady hand he pulled back his bow string and two arrows appeared between his fingers. The light of the arrows released a light shine as they began to glow.
And then he was dashing forward
He released the two arrows, hitting the back of the weakened Githkin's legs and making it buckle to its knees. As it went to get up, Jonah ran up its back and used it as a spring board to become air borne with bow string drawn. Before the other Githkin could think, it was struck with three stun arrows to the chest and Jonah was closing the remaining distance with a flying kick that had it skidding backwards. As the Githkin stumbled to regroup, Jonah hit the ground in a roll, landing right below the soldier on one knee with bow pointing straight up.
"Firing."
He released and the concussive force smashed into the Githkin's jaw, sending it flying up into the air and falling to the ground with a splat. Standing to full height, he turned, fingers already pulling back his bow string. He casually walked by the remaining drone and with out looking, let go the arrow of light between his fingers.
The last thing it heard was the whirl of energy....
Jonah breathed heavily as his ranger form shattered out of existence. He had been lucky, the obstacles in the unfinished parking garage gave him ample back up for his strategy. Had he been left in the open, the tide could have very well changed to their favor but what could have been wasn't really important now. By hook or by crook he was still alive and the kids were still alive, that was all that mattered now.
He sighed to himself, heart still racing from the exertion. He waited for a moment to steady himself before he retrieved the item he had been hiding in the back of his pants. A flare gun, simple but elegant in its design. He pointed the weapon up at the sky and fired. The flare flew high into the sky before exploding like a fire work.
“That'll get Galatec's attention.” He noted. Now notified in as proper a way as possible, the corporation could retrieve their lost and unstable experiments. Jonah wasn't totally pleased with the idea of assisting someone he had designated as his enemy but he couldn't clean this up on his own and Galatec had better facilities for the alien soldiers albeit slave ready more than anything else. “I guess that means the mission's over.”
“Time to head back to base.” |
48,710 | 1,311 | 16 | 1,872 | 1,663 | Now this was a situation, wasn't it? Foreman Jo'ones stared Ruth down the entire time she spoke, maintaining eye contact, but at the mention of being skinned alive he simply blinked dully, as though confused. Did she really just make that order? Surely it was a joke? After working hard for Galatec for the last 432 years of his life he was to be cast off, just like that? It had to be a joke! But it couldn't be, as Jo'ones knew that Drax was incapable of understanding such things. His fears were only confirmed when the colossal android grabbed hold of him and dragged him out of the control room.
"Excuse me, Foreman Jo'ones, do you know of a secluded area that would be easy to clean up in case of an accident?" inquired the robot without a hint of remorse or irony in his tone. Jo'ones struggled, uselessly, for a moment, but then had a retort.
"Right here is fine," he growled as he pulled his hand out from his pocket and slammed his palm against the arm Drax used to hold the foreman up. A powerful electric current surged through the robot. The damage was minimal, negligible even, but it messed with his circuits just enough to cause a spasm, releasing the foreman.
Jo'ones landed on his feet skillfully, then held out his open palm for the android to see. He had some kind of shock device around his hand. A quick scan of his database informed Drax that it was the hand mounted Tesla Charger, standard issue to Galatec military personnel decades ago. Outdated technology, but still useful in a pinch as was just proven.
"I'm not going down without a fight, robot!" Jo'ones began a flurry of punches against Drax, fist pounding against metal faster than most people could react to, and powerful enough to outright kill. Then again, Adelram Drax wasn't most people, and the blows, if he had any touch sensors, would only tickle him.
Meanwhile, Ruth continued monitoring the mining station for anything out of the ordinary. For the most part everything looked fine. Slaves were hard at work, githkin kept a close watch on them, same old same old. Something did catch her eye, however. Two young humans, a male and a female, were walking together toward the vehicle docking station. They traveled together unsupervised. The monitor's scanners identified the two as Jonah Fallen, a human with Loyalty Benefit Status, and Clementine Mayweather, an office worker. According to the screen, both were currently under Red Rock's Director of Accounting, Shplorn. What were they doing entering the vehicle bay? Well, two humans with privileged status couldn't possibly be doing anything out of the ordinary, right?
Clementine's attempt at conversation apparently went unanswered as Jonah remained stoic and quiet as ever, forcing the two to travel with minimal interaction. The walk took about four minutes, during which time they had had their access checked by no less than three security githkin and two keycard swipers, but finally they reached an elevator that took them to the ground level. Once the doors parted for them, Clementine and Jonah found themselves inside a large vehicle hanger. About two dozen vehicles of different shapes and sizes were immediately visible, while a few mechanics worked on them. In the center of the room was the largest of all the vehicles, the size of a building! Sadly it was kept from view under some kind of tarp, with a barricade setup around it and two githkin standing on guard.
Once they stepped into the hanger bay, a woman wearing a blue jumpsuit covered in grease approached them. She appeared human, save for silver eyes. Those knowledgeable in xenology could easily pick her out as a Mercurian, an alien species that could transform into liquid mercury at will. The name tag on her jumpsuit read "Kylo."
"Hello hello. My name is Kylo, and I'm the chief mechanic here. What can I do ya for?"
Tommy was able to get a small portion of the oranium into his pockets, his own little personal treasure. When he called back for assistance, the githkin that kept watch over he and Oliver turned to look inside the crevice that Tommy had squeezed into. It looked around for a moment then shouted a single word in response. "Come."
The scar-faced githkin shot Oliver a look as it passed by, a look that just oozed smugness. Looks like it remembered Oliver just as much as Oliver remembered it. That was one thing, but whatever it planned to do with that kid was another entirely and Oliver could not stand for such injustice. He grabbed a rock and, taking advantage of his supervising githkin's distraction, attempted to sneak up on the scar-faced alien. He was able to get right up behind the creature, and brought the stone down right on its head!
The githkin released the child by reflex and grabbed its head in pain, but recovered quickly. It spun around and reached out, grabbing Oliver by the neck. With impressive strength, it lifted the young man off the ground, choking him. It was then that the other githkin came running up, having taken notice of the scuffle. In the middle of it all, the child took off around the corner, out of sight.
BOOM! Dust and hot air kicked up from the explosion, blasting past Michael. If he hadn't shielded his face, his eyes would be in tremendous pain right now. As it was, the dust cleared and Michael could make out the fruits of his labor. The large metal door had been blasted open, revealing a mine shaft freight elevator. It looked like it could hold about 30 people. The light flickered on and off, but hopefully the elevator itself would be operating better than the light.
The mentor smiled in acknowledgement at Samara's accomplishments, truly proud of the tracking technology she had developed. There was no way he could have accomplished what he did without her assistance, that was for sure. He nodded once Samara located the first two youths. Once the second two were found, there would only be one to go. Fantastic! Only he wasn't found. Michael couldn't be found. What the...? After all the work he had put into shifting schedules around to get that kid at Red Rock, now he wasn't around? That couldn't be right!
Quickly he ran over to another computer terminal and tapped away at it. A few seconds later he looked back at Samara and said, "Facility logs show he checked in. This is worrisome."
"Do we continue with the plan and find him later?" she asked. He nodded.
"We'll have to. This is the only opportunity we'll have for this many of them to be together at once. The transfers I arranged for are only valid for one day. Activate the RD System." He stood up and composed himself. After a deep breath, the mentor took a walk to the center of the cavern they were using as a base of operations, near a light projector. The four they located should appear directly in front of him, if all went according to plan, and he would do his best to introduce himself and explain the situation.
New Angel Grove. Capitol of New Earth. Galatec Regional Headquarters was located in this city, the city with the largest population on the planet, estimated at 4.3 million last census. Mable had a concert tonight, just as she had every night. This time she would be revealing a brand new song, one that, according to the news propaganda, was a "picture into her heart." This morning was the first time she had ever even seen the lyrics, and she was supposed to master the performance in time for a show in three hours? Yeah right.
It was mid-afternoon, and Mable sat in the back seat of a limo. The sky was sunny and warm, just as scheduled by the Galatec Weather Operators, while few people roamed the streets. And why would they? Most would be toiling away underground or in factories or in some dead end office cube. The few people she could see out the window were either the privileged humans that had special "Loyalty Benefit Status," or alien Galatec representatives. And githkin peacekeepers, of course.
Mables agent and manager, Gajoon, sat next to her. He looked like some kind of tall, bipedal octopus with hands squeezed into a suit, wearing tiny spectacles. He was currently performing some kind of business on his mobile phone, typing away with his gelatinous fingers, completely ignoring his environment.
Dumas Mine
It was another beautiful day in the Dumas mine! Jackson had already been working for a good two hours amidst the rock and stone. Today he had the job of using a large drill to clear out some rubble. What fun! Wasn't Galatec super neat and fair? I mean, drills? That's just cool. And that githkin watching over his back at all times, what a swell guy. Galatec was nice to provide him with a good friend to keep him company! Vroom vroom!
That's when a bell rang through the caverns of the mine, signalling break. Jackson got a solid 3 minutes to drink water, get a snack, and catch his breath. Once the bell rang, some of the miners in the area set down their equipment and began to make conversation. The nearest to Jackson were a couple of twin girls, probably about 20 or so. Even in the bright lighting Galatec wired throughout the mines (because employees need to be kept safe, right?) their skin was quite dark. One wore her hair up in a bun, while the other had hers in dreadlocks. Apart from that, they were indistinguishable from one another. | Name:
Jackson Trent
Nickname/Alias:
Jack, sex on a stick (imo).
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
. |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.
Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills.
Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
The Power Rangers
White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
Protecting people
The greater good
Dislikes:
Galatec
His job
Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control
His parents being under Galatec’s influence
Fears:
Slipping back under Galatec’s control
Not being able to find the Power Rangers
Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
Dying on the job
Quirks:
He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?
History:
Freedom.
That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.
Until the Power Rangers.
At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”.
That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
Animalistic instincts & reflexes
Can see multiple approaches to a problem
Agile on his feet
A linear understanding of science
Apparently quite the singer
Hindrances:
His perpetual mood swings
He always sees the good in people
Can sometimes be quick to judge
Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people
Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
An old mining torch
A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
10 shirts
4 pairs of jeans
A pair of combat boots
A pair of old sneakers
An old scarf
A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
7 bottles of water
A sleeping bag
9 MRE kits
Quotes:
“Cross your fingers.”
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into. |
48,711 | 1,311 | 17 | 2,250 | 2,211 | The order was clear and concise. Samara took to activating the RDS by replacing the seat that the mentor had previously taken, setting her pad aside while doing so. With several sharp keystrokes, the hues that surrounded the four individuals on the screen intensified. A window appeared asking for final confirmation of the system’s activation. She didn’t hesitate.
“Here we go,” confirming the targets and pressing the final key, Samara turned her chair towards the projector and waited for four-fifths of the team to arrive. | Samara Morgan
Name - Samara Morgan
Nickname/Alias - N/A
Race - Human
Age - 23
Ethnicity - African-American
Gender - Female
Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis.
Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend.
In The Mind
Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends.
She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest.
However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood.
Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right.
Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously.
Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames.
Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her.
Where They’ve Been
History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background.
One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed.
It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold.
It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking.
The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way.
Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising.
Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture.
Powers - N/A
Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone.
Bonus Round
Quotes - No.
Theme Song - Never.
Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary. |
48,712 | 1,311 | 18 | 1,815 | 418 | Tommy heard the word "come" from the githkin outside, and headed out of the small crevice. As he opened his mouth to tell the githkin more specifics pertaining to the situation, they weren't the brightest after all, he noticed that Oliver had apparently gotten into a scuffle with an elite githkin. He quickly closed said mouth. Perhaps it had already started? He had heard rumors... Well, regardless of what may or may not happen today, he couldn't just let Oliver die in the grips of this githkin.
Tommy quickly sneaked out of the crevice, trying to make as little noise as he could. He might be able to save his friend if the other githkin did not restrain him. The minute he had both feet on solid ground, he began running as fast as he could (which unfortunately is not saying much) toward the githkin that held his friend aloft. Tommy clearly did not have the weight to tackle this githkin to the ground, even with a head start. However, if he tried to grab its legs, he might be able to make the githkin lose its balance. | Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist)
Nickname/Alias: Mable
Race: Valiant
Age: 20
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: Female
Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples.
Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank.
Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts.
In The Mind
Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them.
Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause.
Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets.
Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone.
Fears: Failure, gloomy moods.
Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning.
Where They’ve Been
History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet.
She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec.
Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside.
Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability.
Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire.
Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out.
Equipment: Morpher??
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Peace and Love!"
Theme Song: N/A
Aspiration: Love and Peace!
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: ??
Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe
Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points.
Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact.
Powers: ??
Zords:
Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd.
This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!"
She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough.
Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming.
As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were.
The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away.
"Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim.
After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message.
'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.'
As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home. |
48,713 | 1,311 | 19 | 2,301 | 766 | Adelram Drax
Adelram noted the military grade electric device on the Foreman's arm. Obsolete technology, but the background check on Foreman Jo'ones confirmed Madam Ruthalia's claim that Adelram's new opponent was ex-military.
When the reptilian humanoid nimbly escaped his grasp, Drax did not anticipate that he would begin pounding against his lower body. In most situations, one in the Foreman's position would attempt to flee or make an escape. Unfortunately, this criminal outburst lowered the probability of Madam Ruthalia's direct orders being accomplished. Adelram quietly calculated that perhaps just mortally injuring the Foreman would satisfy the Regional Manager.
Either way, the veteran Foreman's death by Adelram's, and by extension, Madam Ruthalia's, hands was inevitable.
"Your transgression has been noted, Foreman Jo'ones."
Whilst informing the criminal suspect of Adelram's awareness that the Foreman has, in fact, committed a crime, Drax cocked his previously zapped right fist and angled it downwards. He jutted his massive mace of a hand rapidly forward, leaning into it. A crippling injury to a common man, but there was a high probability it may just send the Foreman flying backwards with a concussion if his quick punch connected. The punch was launched just as Adelram finished saying, "-noted-".
The android also made note of Foreman Jo'ones' advice, that the position on which he stood is the preferred location of dismemberment. | Name: GD-002-17
Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath
Race: Android/Robot
Age: 7
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: "Male"
Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form.
Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints.
His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder.
In The Mind
Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view.
When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords.
Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like.
Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike.
Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up.
Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission.
Where They’ve Been
History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax.
When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin.
He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him.
Talents:
Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down.
Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons.
He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander.
He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum.
He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent.
Hindrances:
He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck.
If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited.
Powers:
Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry.
Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain.
Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position.
Equipment:
Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers.
One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies.
Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time.
And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering.
He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air.
Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out.
Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision.
Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets.
Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload.
Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired.
Bonus Round
Quotes:
"..."
"The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%."
"..."
Theme Song: i dunno
Aspiration: File not found.
"Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure.
"The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun.
"Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight.
"This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply."
The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor.
The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail.
Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking.
Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up.
Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind.
When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere.
If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed.
He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level. |
48,714 | 1,311 | 20 | 1,966 | 2,601 | Michael Sonnen
A thunderous roar bellowed heated rock and dust, scattering the fine material against him and down the long dark maw of the tunnel. Michael felt tiny bits pierce his skin. The feeling was like pin pricks, pin pricks he could take, that pain was small compared to what he had been through over the years.
He raised to his feet cautiously, looking for any hint of weakness in the walls of the mines; explosions could rock the very structure of any mine and that brought a tinge of fear to him. To die in the mines without doing anything avenge Courtney's death would be ashame. He couldnt' imagine forgiving himself if he had.
Michael tossed that thought aside as he neared the charred, smoldering entrance of the once sealed doors. Inside, he saw spacious elevator shaft freighter. It was... old, how far back he was unsure; his education in historical tech was fruitless and not at all touched on. His lips pursed tightly as he pulled himself through the blowned hole.
Is this what they were hiding? he asked unbelieving. Why hide this?
He paused for a moment before stepping into the elevator and absentmindedly checking to see if it worked. His powerful hands motioned towards a random button, his thumb pressed down on it without caution. Soon afterwards he chided himself for his one-track mind.
"Maybe they aren't hiding this? Galatec could be pushing me... do they know they can't brainwash me?" His right fist clenched at his side while the other thumbed the scar on his nose.
I'll fight to the death. | Name: Michael Sonnen.
Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother).
Race: Human.
Age: 20.
Ethnicity: African American.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye.
Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences.
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In The Mind
Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious.
Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions.
Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal.
Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different.
Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs.
Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined.
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Where They’ve Been
History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think,
This isn't right...
Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought.
Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off.
His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered.
"Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-"
It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself.
Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often.
Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it?
Powers: None.
Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner.
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Bonus Round
Quotes: "We fight for today!"
Theme Song: Throne
Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Red
Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung.
Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently.
Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets.
Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes.
Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty.
"Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you."
She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that.
By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic.
His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on.
Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening.
Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns.
"Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself. |
48,715 | 1,311 | 21 | 1,872 | 1,663 | Location: Dumas Mine
Interacting With: The Twins Jackson jumped off the drill, rubbing his dusty, dirt-filled hands on his once-white shirt, creating two brand new, hand-shaped dirt stains on the poor thing. Today was a great day for him. He got to use the drill, and now he had a whole three minutes break! He sure was lucky to have such great and awesome people like Galatec looking after him. Speaking of, he glanced back towards the Ghitkin that he’d been provided with to keep him company, before towards the twins he’d spotted nearby him. Mr. Ghitkin didn’t really look in the mood for a little bit of conversation - which Jackson understood; we all have our grumpy days - so he decided to approach the ladies, grabbing a dirt-caked bottle of water and taking a big swig. Gulp! Boy, Galatec was so nice to give everyone water after having fun working.
“Hey there! How are you? I know I’m great!” He said, flashing a friendly smile to the twins as he pulled a sandwich out of his pocket, peeling the cling film off and taking a bite. Mmmm, ham, cheese and cucumber was his favourite! As he waited for the girls’ replies, he took a mental note to buy some more of said ingredients when he got home. Though, with the amount of fun he was having today, he never wanted to leave! | Name:
Jackson Trent
Nickname/Alias:
Jack, sex on a stick (imo).
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
. |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.
Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills.
Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
The Power Rangers
White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
Protecting people
The greater good
Dislikes:
Galatec
His job
Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control
His parents being under Galatec’s influence
Fears:
Slipping back under Galatec’s control
Not being able to find the Power Rangers
Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
Dying on the job
Quirks:
He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?
History:
Freedom.
That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.
Until the Power Rangers.
At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”.
That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
Animalistic instincts & reflexes
Can see multiple approaches to a problem
Agile on his feet
A linear understanding of science
Apparently quite the singer
Hindrances:
His perpetual mood swings
He always sees the good in people
Can sometimes be quick to judge
Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people
Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
An old mining torch
A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
10 shirts
4 pairs of jeans
A pair of combat boots
A pair of old sneakers
An old scarf
A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
7 bottles of water
A sleeping bag
9 MRE kits
Quotes:
“Cross your fingers.”
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into. |
48,716 | 1,311 | 22 | 2,305 | 2,032 | Ah, Cheif Kylo, It's a pleasure to meet you, my name's Clementine Mayweather, and I'm just doing an audit of the facility, Clementine introduced herself. "Oh, and this is Jonah Fallen," she added. Though it wasn't common practice to introduce security personnel, Clementine wanted him to feel included despite the awkwardness.
"I just want to double-check the expenses that have occurred here. One thing that popped out at me is the 'driller' went missing? While it's all good that the vehicle has been recovered, production was understandably lower during its absence. Is there any explanation for where it went during that time? Finding a reason should help prevent future, ah... disappearances," Clementine smiled at Kylo in an attempt to appear non-threatening, as most people easily become defensive when being audited. | Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title?
Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker
Race: Humany Human of Humaness
Age: 21
Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases.
Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth.
In The Mind
Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need.
Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things.
Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others.
Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black.
Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can.
Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts.
Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own.
Where They’ve Been
History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens.
Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free.
After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously.
It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him.
Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things.
Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger.
Powers: N to the A biatch.
Equipment:
Blue Photon Morpher
Red-Light-Emitting Necklace
Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools.
Ripped up miner clothes.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!"
Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Blue
Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying.
Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through.
Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means.
Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it. |
48,717 | 1,311 | 23 | 92 | 2,185 | Oliver
Oliver smashed the rock down on scar-face as hard as he could. Turning to the other kid, "Get out of here man." When he looked back up scar-face had already recovered. It grabbed Ollie's throat and lifted him up while choking him. *Dang. I've done it now. No getting out of this one.*
Knowing that no matter what he did he was probably going to be killed he just stared defiantly at scar-face as if saying, "You haven't really won." Suddenly Tommy showed up plowing into scar-face's legs. On instinct Ollie lifted his knee up into the chin of the Githkin holding him. Know Ollie was worried, and it clearly showed on his face. He didn't care if he died, but he didn't want anyone dying for him. He had to figure out how to get Tommy out of there. | Name: Oliver Johnson
Nickname/Alias: Ollie
Race: Human
Age: 16
Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish.
Gender: Male
Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age.
Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes.
In The Mind
Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself.
He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him.
Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air.
Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it.
Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys.
Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone.
Quirks: Is constantly zoning out.
Where They’ve Been
History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth.
During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret.
Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since.
Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face.
Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything.
Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic."
Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs.
Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Green
Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator.
Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster.
Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight.
Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light.
Zords: None at the moment. |
48,718 | 1,311 | 24 | 1,872 | 1,663 | Ruthalia decided that it would be a good idea to maintain a watchful eye on the two humans with Loyalty Privilege. So far they did not seem to be doing anything unbecoming. The camera's scanners displayed subtitles of their words for the regional manager's viewing pleasure. Apparently Clemetine Mayweather had been charged with performing an audit on spending in various departments and divisions, and decided to come to the vehicle station first. She spoke with Chief Engineer Kylo, a Mercurian woman, about how one of the vehicles had gone missing, but was found in its station about a week later. A vehicle had been missing for an entire week?! How was that not reported as a priority issue?!
Kylo appeared to be personal and friendly to the two. She was going along with the questioning, giving them her full participation. Then Chief Engineer Kylo stood alone, looking terribly confused. In a bright flash of light, the two had vanished from sight. Kylo scratched her head, perplexed, then pulled out a radio to report the strange phenomenon to her supervisor.
The now ex-foreman Jo'ones did not relent in his furious assault upon Drax's battle armor. Had he been facing most any other enemy, his great strength and form would have already won him his life and freedom. Against Galatec's top of the line android general, he was lucky he hadn't already broken his arms. As Drax motioned to punch the lizard man, Jo'ones finally ceased his attack and brought up both arms to block, having already lost any time to dodge. It was a move he would not live to regret.
The robot's fist struck his crossed arms full force, and Jo'ones flew backward in a shower of sparks. His back collided with a railing, bending the rail a good foot. Jo'ones stood up, both arms broken and hanging limply at his side, but the fire in his eyes had not died down. By Drax's sensors, he should have been in tremendous amounts of pain, but the former soldier seemed to have little issue powering through it. Instead of standing down, or running, instead he lifted his leg pointed directly at Drax's chest plate. As he did so, a small energy blaster slid out from some kind of mechanical arm, and Jo'ones caught it with his foot. That's right, the data files in Drax's memory core confirmed that Jo'ones' species had fully articulate toes.
Jo'ones fired the laser with his foot, emitting a beam of red light which struck the robot square in the chest. For the first time since the fight began, Jo'ones looked worried. He barely scratched the paint.
The elite githkin with the scarred face actually laughed, laughed at Oliver as it held him up by the neck. The githkin designated as Oliver's "supervisor" stood on the other side of Oliver. Without emotion, it lifted a single fist and struck Oliver in the back. The pain was tremendous, but luckily nothing broke.
At that moment Tommy took a running dive at the elite githkin, slamming into its legs. The creature's eyes opened wide as it was taken by surprise and lost its balance. In that moment it released Oliver, then stumbled over and onto the ground. When it looked up, its eyes made contact with Tommy's. It did not look happy.
The second githkin helped up its superior, then they both faced the belligerent workers. Damn. Well, today could have gone so much better. Still, we all have to die sometime, right? The githkin charged forward, each with a raised fist. They lashed out, each one inches away from connecting with a human face. And then... Nothing. Tommy and Oliver saw a bright flash of light, blinding and disorienting. When the spots went away, the two were... Actually, where were they?
Chief Kylo nodded along as Clementine spoke, waiting for her turn to interject. "Yes, it's very understandable that you would come up here. To be honest, I've been preparing for this audit since the driller originally went missing. Unfortunately, I have no idea where it was or who took it during that week."
The Mercurian walked the two humans over to a large vehicle with a drill on the nose. The roof to the cab was apparently convertible. This fine piece of machinery was clearly very expensive, and its disappearance had cost Red Rock no less than 450,000 Galatokens.
"Here's the phantom driller in question. Serial number 7x-y25-349. I put in a request for forensics to examine it, but nobody has responded to my request yet. Anyway," Kylo turned to Clementine, holding out a small data disc. "This hold all of our costs of operation, our inventory, and anything else you might need for your audit. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Before Clementine or Jonah could respond, they found themselves suddenly blinded by a bright light. After a brief moment if disorientation, their vision returned, only they weren't in the vehicle station anymore. They were underground, surrounded by several people they've never seen before...
With the thunderous roar of an ancient leviathan waking from its slumber, the freight elevator came to life. Slowly it began its descent. The sound was loud and echoed throughout the mines. If anybody were in this lifeless area of tunnel, they would surely hear it. Too bad Michael was all alone. Or maybe that was the blessing? Either way, slowly the elevator brought him and only him downward.
The ride had taken nearly three full minutes, but finally it came to a stop. The light ceased to flicker, instead it burned brightly as though the bulb or power had been replaced. The doors opened up and on the other side was no doubt the biggest surprised Michael would receive that day.
People. Armed people. They were packed in the tunnel as tightly as they could be. Human beings, like himself, wearing makeshift armor made from whatever materials they could get ahold of. They carried guns, laser blasters, baseball bats, mining drills, all manner of things that could make you dead. Then one approached Michael, a young woman wearing leather and carrying a laser blaster.
"Michael Sonnen, you made it! Huzzah! Hopefully our contact was correct and you can join us. Tell me, what do you think of Galatec?"
The mentor straightened his tie as Samara went into initiating the Refraction Displacement System. The computer hummed to life as it began to draw more power than they had ever used before. After a few seconds of intense calculations, the computer... Stopped? Drat, it froze! Samara just knew they should have swiped the latest processing chip! And that's when the four dots on the monitor vanished, while the light projector in the center of the headquarters roared to life. Well maybe it was good enough after all.
Disoriented, but recovering, four young adults appeared in the center of a large cavern chamber. It was a few thousand square feet, with mine cart hovertrack leading to multiple pathways, each one closed off by a large metal door. Multiple work benches and computer stations had been setup around the cavern, while they each stood on a central platform below some kind of light projector. It wasn't the only source of light, though. Strings of lights ran around the ceiling, powered by a portal generator. Finally, two strangers were among them here. A young, dark-skinned woman sitting at a computer station, and what appeared to be a middle aged human man standing before them, looking composed. Before they could question too much about what had happened, the alien-man in front of them began to speak.
"Tommy Reese. Oliver Johnson. Clementine Mayweather. Jonah Fallen. Welcome. I apologize for the sudden discomfort, but it was necessary given our circumstances. Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Joniminum Lorel'ammit Jorgenschmidtl, but you may refer to me as John Jorgen. I am a former employee of Galatec, a high ranking scientist in the departments of Robotics, Physics, and Engineering. I am also Galatec's foremost expert on the Morphing Grid, which brings me to you. I have studied your culture, your history. Many races across the universe have been able to access the Morphing Grid, but humanity appears to have the most experience with it. Throughout time, human beings have faced perilous threat upon disaster, and they always come out on top, thanks to your special connection to the Morphing Grid. Now your world faces such threats again, in the form of my former employers. So I have taken it upon myself to give you the fighting chance that you deserve. Each one of you were studied and hand picked for one reason or another to join a special team to defend your people. My associate and I," the man gestured to the woman at the computers, her name still a mystery, "offer you a choice. You can decide to go back to your lives the way they were before you met us. You can work and toil for minimal pay, no appreciation, for the benefit of those taking advantage of your kind... Or you can choose to stand up and fight for what is right. You can honor your people's proud history and become... Power Rangers."
Mable's manager sighed in irritation at his client's antics. Well, technically Galatec was his client, but in the end she was the one he had the most contact with. "Please Mable, my name is Gajoon, not 'Octo-manager.' And you know I don't hate you. I know the situation isn't ideal, but nobody ever said that being a star was easy."
That was the truth. Gajoon was one of the good ones. Sure, he was technically an employee of Galatec, but then again so was Mable. He may get fatigued by her energy and was weary of their entire situation, but in his squishy, cephalopod heart he was a good guy.
When Mable tossed the lyric sheets onto the floor of the limo, he let out a soft sigh and began picking them up himself. All the while, his phone blew up with messages, texts, alerts, notifications, and other assorted business-related material. While he was on the floor, he missed Mable's sunroof antics, but he was quick to react once he got his footing back.
"Miss Love! Please control yourself! Do you want to incite something here?!" Mable knew he was just being stuffy and cautious.
Once the limo had parked, Gajoon got out and began walking in the direction of the dressing room, gesturing for Mable to follow. "Now as you said before, this one is going to be a challenge, but I know you're up for it. The practice band is already setup backstage, so you can get the hang of this new piece. Remember, it's the grand finale to tonight's performance, so it must be absolutely perfect. I don't need to remind you of how important tonight is, since Galatec is looking to renew our contract. We don't want you getting deported."
The twins stopped their conversation as Jackson approached, something about lima beans, and turned to face the young man. The first one to speak was the twin with the dreadlocks.
"Oh, we're doing fine. Just enjoying our break before we get back to work."
"I'm glad we could get such a good job, and stay together as a family," piped in the twin with her hair in a bun.
"I'm Shawnee and this is my sister Sarah. Who are you?" | Name:
Jackson Trent
Nickname/Alias:
Jack, sex on a stick (imo).
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
. |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.
Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills.
Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
The Power Rangers
White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
Protecting people
The greater good
Dislikes:
Galatec
His job
Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control
His parents being under Galatec’s influence
Fears:
Slipping back under Galatec’s control
Not being able to find the Power Rangers
Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
Dying on the job
Quirks:
He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?
History:
Freedom.
That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.
Until the Power Rangers.
At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”.
That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
Animalistic instincts & reflexes
Can see multiple approaches to a problem
Agile on his feet
A linear understanding of science
Apparently quite the singer
Hindrances:
His perpetual mood swings
He always sees the good in people
Can sometimes be quick to judge
Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people
Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
An old mining torch
A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
10 shirts
4 pairs of jeans
A pair of combat boots
A pair of old sneakers
An old scarf
A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
7 bottles of water
A sleeping bag
9 MRE kits
Quotes:
“Cross your fingers.”
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into. |
48,719 | 1,311 | 25 | 1,966 | 2,601 | Michael Sonnen
Trepidation racked his insides. The three minutes in the elevator felt longer... way longer. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, heard the raucous elder metal grinding outside the heated cage, he saw nothing in particular as he readied himself. It was not the knowing that held his thumb in place on his scar.
When the doors finally opened, Michael's eyes went wide with shock.
An... army? he thought, too unsure to step forward or backwards.
For a long, literal, second Michael attempted to understand. The group... the rebels perhaps, were packed tight in the hallway; were they getting ready for a raid? Really it didn't matter, all that mattered was his answer to her question. He could see it in her eyes; he was already too deep in. His answer would be detrimental to something.
"I think you're gonna end up dead going against them," Michael said tensely. "The devils aren't normal." | Name: Michael Sonnen.
Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother).
Race: Human.
Age: 20.
Ethnicity: African American.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye.
Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In The Mind
Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious.
Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions.
Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal.
Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different.
Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs.
Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Where They’ve Been
History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think,
This isn't right...
Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought.
Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off.
His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered.
"Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-"
It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself.
Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often.
Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it?
Powers: None.
Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bonus Round
Quotes: "We fight for today!"
Theme Song: Throne
Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Red
Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung.
Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently.
Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets.
Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes.
Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty.
"Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you."
She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that.
By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic.
His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on.
Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening.
Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns.
"Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself. |
48,720 | 1,311 | 26 | 2,301 | 766 | Adelram Drax
Adelram said nothing as the beam struck his armor. Judging by the Foreman's expression, Drax concluded that the weapon was at full power, and bringing up shielding would be unnecessary for winning this engagement. One thing Drax did not understand was the Foreman's willingless to die at his hands. Adelram calculated what the Foreman's best moves would be, and escaping seemed to be the most sensible route of action. Perhaps, he wondered, if the Foreman was on a suicide mission to distract Adelram for reasons unknown. He self-countered this thought, as the Foreman did not initiate this fight through physical means, but rather that Drax was the aggressor in this situation. If the Foreman had not incurred the kill order by Madam Ruthalia, the current combat situation would not be happening.
At the same time, he reached down to the comically large firearm at his side. Gripping the handle, he ripped the gun out of it's holster and leveled it towards the lizard man.
Two shrieking pulses of yellow energy exploded from the barrel in rapid succession, powerful recoil cancelled by Adelram's strength and inner gyroscopes. The first shot was aimed to collide with the Foreman's core, a hopefully direct hit. The second shot slanted slightly downwards, as to explode at Jo'ones's feet to propel him upwards. | Name: GD-002-17
Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath
Race: Android/Robot
Age: 7
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: "Male"
Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form.
Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints.
His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder.
In The Mind
Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view.
When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords.
Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like.
Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike.
Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up.
Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission.
Where They’ve Been
History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax.
When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin.
He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him.
Talents:
Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down.
Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons.
He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander.
He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum.
He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent.
Hindrances:
He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck.
If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited.
Powers:
Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry.
Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain.
Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position.
Equipment:
Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers.
One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies.
Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time.
And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering.
He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air.
Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out.
Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision.
Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets.
Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload.
Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired.
Bonus Round
Quotes:
"..."
"The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%."
"..."
Theme Song: i dunno
Aspiration: File not found.
"Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure.
"The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun.
"Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight.
"This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply."
The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor.
The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail.
Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking.
Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up.
Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind.
When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere.
If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed.
He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level. |
48,721 | 1,311 | 27 | 2,305 | 2,032 | After the stunt Tommy has pulled in an effort to save his friend's life, he fully expected to die. After all, he was on the ground looking into the face of a very angry elite githkin, he was physically frail and had never fought anything more threatening than a household pest, and to top it all off, Oliver and him were outnumbered. The collision with the ground had opened new wounds in his knees, which spread fresh blood onto the floor of the tunnel. Even worse, he couldn't muster the energy to get up at this point, as the sprint and dive had taken all the energy he could muster for the moment.
Tommy gave Oliver one last little smile, the sort of knowing smile that meant he knew what was coming next, and he was fine with it. It really was all fine though! all living things die eventually right? Besides, ditching the mortal coil for whatever awaited beyond would make sure he would never be hungry again... Closing his eyes, Tommy waited for the end.
And somehow, as Tommy awaited the pain that would eventually be followed by death, he felt nothing... there was a flash of light that he could see even through his closed eyes, and... nothing. Was this death? It felt a lot like life, and he was still hungry which was probably the biggest disappointment to come out of the whole ordeal. But as he heard the voice of (ERROR: FILE NOT FOUND), he knew that for the moment he had avoided death.
Looking around the room, he could see that there were four other people in roughly the same predicament he was, and luckily Oliver was one of them! If Tommy had had any time to worry during the last few moments of his life, that would certainly have been a weight off of his mind. And with all of these observations he hadn't even gotten to the room! There was a lot of advanced machinery, that given the proper time and training, he could probably learn how to operate, and maybe even construct. Oooooh, nothing more exciting than learning new things! Well, except perhaps for the prospect of saving the world, which he had just learned about now.
Suddenly, Tommy jumped up from his previously lying position and inspected everything in the room. "That looks like it might... transport particles?! How exciting, that's how we got here!" He exclaimed, looking at the displacer. "And these are... no idea actually, but they're color coded and look pretty neat." He said looking at the morphers. Speaking at roughly the speed of a supersonic jet, Tommy began to bombard the room in general with questions."How does all this work? Can I learn to build it? I'm Tommy, who's who here?" He continued, wearing the biggest grin on his face.
"Oh, sorry." He said turning to (ERROR: FILE NOT FOUND). "I never answered your question... ugh, yes, that sounds rather good at the moment. Also, does anyone have any food?" | Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title?
Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker
Race: Humany Human of Humaness
Age: 21
Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases.
Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth.
In The Mind
Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need.
Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things.
Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others.
Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black.
Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can.
Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts.
Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own.
Where They’ve Been
History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens.
Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free.
After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously.
It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him.
Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things.
Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger.
Powers: N to the A biatch.
Equipment:
Blue Photon Morpher
Red-Light-Emitting Necklace
Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools.
Ripped up miner clothes.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!"
Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Blue
Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying.
Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through.
Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means.
Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it. |
48,722 | 1,311 | 28 | 2,250 | 2,211 | The growing hum from the computer did not distract Samara, nor did its sudden silence. This location was not powered by some of the greatest technology on the planet, but it was going to have to be enough. They had never summoned four people at one time before, so some slack had to be cut on the system itself. Her expression didn’t shift at the silence, instead her eyes kept focused on the platform this group would appear. The faith in their system—and her own abilities—was promptly rewarded with the materialization of the four targets. As the Mentor began to explain to them the situation they now found themselves in, Samara was watching their individual reactions from a distance.
Tommy was by far more enthusiastic than she expected. He looked around erratically to examine his surroundings, smart of him, but she couldn’t tell if he was actually listening to her colleague about why he was here. He began to go on a tangent and speak of what he noticed. It pained her to even think it, so she dare not say it: Tommy actually caught on quicker than she expected him to. Typically she associated excessive cheer for lack of interest in the technological, but a living, breathing contradiction to that theory was right in front of her. The RDS did convert their physical mass into light. He wasn’t wrong, but he was closer than she believed anyone could get within a minute of getting here. Samara found herself smiling. Maybe he’d be a bigger boon than she once thought.
He introduced himself to his peers and agreed to take on this new responsibility, almost too quickly. When he complained about food, Samara glanced to the corner beside her own little workstation. Just beside it was a small cache of purified water, completely absent of Galatec’s chemical meddling, and a collection of protein bars as an easily disposable snack. Standing up and moving over to it, she knelt down and pulled out a bottle of water from the dust-covered duffle bag they were stored in, as well as two protein bars. It wouldn’t be much, but for a guy as slim as him it would be enough nourishment and energy to carry him through the next couple of hours minimum.
She stood up just as Clementine had begun to have a breakdown. There had to be at least one of them that believed this was some sort of elaborate trap to test their loyalty to Galatec, and as expected it was Clementine after all. As she wrapped it up, Samara had spoken for the first time since they arrived.
“Not quite, Clem,” she started before her eyes rested on Tommy. “Head’s up Blue,” Samara tossed the bottle of water to him first, followed by one of the protein bars she carried in the opposite hand. “Protein bar and water—before you think it’s got any of that poison Galatec feeds you, it doesn’t.”
Whether or not he chose to believe her would be up to him. Moving the free hand to her hip, Samara’s attention returned to Clementine. “You’re half-right; everyone standing beside you is about to become your new teammates against Galatec, so I guess you could consider this an introduction that will lead into team-building. Galatec is not our friend, and they aren’t yours either.”
This was all assuming Clementine would not refuse this offer. As John said, they were free to return to a life of willing slavery, but Samara wanted to believe that Clementine, like all of them, could become a vital part of the team and help free New Earth.
Despite her ragged appearance—a sheen of sweat across her exposed forearms, neck and face, and an untidy length of hair tied back in a ponytail—Samara still stood with confidence.
“I know it’s sudden. If I’m being honest, I’d have kept a couple of you out of this,” Samara was careful not to let her eyes linger on any of them for too long, fearing that they would be offended that she might think little of them. “We recognize your potential as individuals, but the things you could accomplish together far exceed anything you could hope to do on your own. Power Rangers in the distant past were able to come together when a world, or a space colony, or even an entire sector of space needed them the most. Now we hope you four can do the same.”
Digging into her back pocket, Samara removed an ID card showing a neater, cleaner appearance with a brilliant smile, and her name on clear display. “I’m Samara, and I’m asking you to trust us. You may be this world’s last hope.” | Samara Morgan
Name - Samara Morgan
Nickname/Alias - N/A
Race - Human
Age - 23
Ethnicity - African-American
Gender - Female
Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis.
Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend.
In The Mind
Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends.
She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest.
However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood.
Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right.
Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously.
Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames.
Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her.
Where They’ve Been
History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background.
One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed.
It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold.
It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking.
The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way.
Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising.
Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture.
Powers - N/A
Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone.
Bonus Round
Quotes - No.
Theme Song - Never.
Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary. |
48,723 | 1,311 | 29 | 427 | 1,112 | with: Terminal Workers, Drax , GithkinWith little else of interest happening in the mines as of yet, Ruth decided to watch the two lone sl—ahem, employees walking around the mine. She didn’t like seeing the humans in groups together without supervision. She didn’t give a flying Gulliet if they had Loyalty Privileges. It always made her unhappy. She had every confidence in the abilities of the suggestive and influential powers of Galatec but she had never taken a great liking or trust towards humans. They were so… repugnant? Irksome? Insignificant? Yes, that seemed the right word. Humans were so insignificant.
She folded her arms across her chest and drummed her fingers on one arm with one hand while the other zoomed in and out, following the two humans wandering around, her fingers clicking buttons to switch camera views when the need arose. She read the subtitles and felt her brows knitting together in a most unattractive manner. Ruth expected to be informed of a missing vehicle after an hour of being missing, let alone an entire Groth damn week. She could feel her temper rising and she had to wonder where their supervisor was. It was most unprofessional and she began to hope that the supervisor also had a particularly vibrant skin that she could appropriate.
It was a good job she was such a wonderful multi-tasker or she’d never have seen what happened next while thinking of how to best dress herself with her destroyed subordinates. The humans were gone with a flash of light! Ruth turned to look at the workers at the terminals that had remained behind to work over their lunch break like good little insects. If they didn’t already regret that decision, they soon would be.
“What in the damn just happened there?! What was that light?! Where did those humans go?! DO NOT MAKE ME ASK AGAIN, MAGGOTS!!!!” She let out a loud huff of anger, and took a deeeeeeeeeep breath. She was extremely close to losing her self-control. This was what she had been expecting but she hadn’t expected it so soon! She watched the workers in the terminals, examining their every move uncomfortably closely in the off chance that they had been responsible for the glare of light in the cameras. She listened out for their thoughts as she began to stretch her mind to reach the Githkin within the facility.
“GITHKIN. This is your Regional Manager speaking with an order for all of you that can hear me. We have missing human employees that have vanished in a flash of light. If you have witnessed any of these events, come to the Foreman’s office IMMEDIATELY. The rest of you must search for the missing human employees. Detain any human employees that are of a low loyalty level for questioning by me. Ensure they are unable to cause any trouble. Ensure that they have no access to anything that could be used as a weapon. Ensure that you do not keep me waiting long. I expect the missing human employees to be found within the hour. MOVE.”
She was going to get wrinkles. Someone was going to pay.
Ruth strode forward and slapped the nearest terminal worker square across the face and glared at them, daring them to challenge her. This would not do. She couldn’t even get hold of Drax in her usual method! Having an android subordinate really did have its drawbacks. She sighed as she clicked her communicator on to contact him. “General Drax, we have a situation. Return to the Foreman’s office now. If the lizard isn’t dead yet, bring him too.” She flicked it off and gave a stern gaze at the workers in her vicinity.
She couldn’t decide which one to slap next. | Name: Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento
Nickname/Alias: Ruth, ThinkTank, Lady Regional, RM
Race: Iki'lek
Age: I’ve lived more years than you could possibly ever count, maggot.
Ethnicity: Iki'lek Hybrid
Gender: Gender is such a primitive thing, but I do have a fondness for the feminine attire your world has. So let’s go with female, for now.
Appearance: Ruth has two main appearances that you will see. Her public face is one that you want to give attention to yet makes you feel the need to divert your gaze at the same time as it draws you in. She opts for pale skin, sprinkled with freckles over its entirety. Her body stretches out to a modest 5’8” without the enhancements of high heels. (“These spectacular extensions for your lower appendages are absolutely marvellous!”) Her body type is that of womanly but well taken care of. When you can have any human body that you choose, why wouldn’t you give yourself what you feel is the most desirable body available?
Her eyes are generally a dark hazel shade with a very prominent black halo around the iris. Her golden, copper brown hair reaches just below her shoulders and is generally styled in some manner befitting those in the Business profession on Earth. She is a fan of feminine make-up products and has become very proficient in applying it to her face and nails. She has a mass array of different colours that suit her preferred skin tone and hair colour.
The second, and most natural, of Ruth’s appearances is not a common sight. Her race has skin that is silvery grey in colour that has a shimmering light to it. Her torso closely resembles that of a human in the sense that it holds the appendages and head together and contains almost all the vital organs. There are not just four appendages, there are fourteen. She has four arms, two at the same area as human arms and then a secondary pair sitting beneath those, protruding from the torso sides. The arms are very similar to human arms but are slightly longer, and there are six fingers on each hand with a thumb making it seven total. He does not have legs or feet, instead she has ten tendrils (see what I did there? I’m so funny…) much like an octopus or squid would have but these are full of muscle and allow her to move at high speeds and very erratically.
Her head is slightly more difficult to describe. If you imagine a generic Martian to a human you think of a bulbous upper head, longer chin area and giant, black, and bulbous eyes that are almost as big as the entire head. Well the bulbous upper half is similar to what Iki’lek heads look like. It reaches further out to the back of the cranium though, but not by much. The lower face is longer and more drawn out than a human but not quite as much as a Martian face. Both halves of the race have no nose, instead they have slits much like a snake would. The Brawn half have a large, gaping maw that allows them to bite their targets and to yell out of. The Brain half have no mouth as they communicate telepathically. For Ruth, as she is a hybrid, does not look quite like the two single halves of the Iki’lek race.
The Brawn half have smaller, more protruding eyes that face forward and have near tunnel vision while the Brain half have larger and less centralised eyes that rest closer to the sides of the skull to allow them to have a far wider range of vision. Ruth, however, has larger bulbous eyes that are slightly to the sides while still allowing her to see forward only if she so wishes thanks to her secondary set of eyelids which she can use as blinders. Her eyes aren’t black however, they are a deep, dark purple colour and her mouth is not quite as large as her Brawny brethren. She could bite onto you but probably wouldn’t be able to swallow your entire head like they could.
The final noteworthy marking of her alien appearance is that of the markings across her entire body. Her head, face, neck and spinal cord (at least what you can see of it) have sky blue markings, like that of a calligraphy pen being dragged across a piece of paper to create weaving lines that crossover and connect like a fluid tapestry. The rest of her body that you could see (basically just her arms at this point) are covered in disjointed and jagged looking maroon coloured markings. They are erratic and seem to have no pattern to them at all. Both of these markings look almost as though they are not actually on the skin, almost like they are floating on the surface of water and are in constant motion. This race has no hair on their body and, their tendrils stretched out fully, stand at around 6’5” in length from head to… toe?
Clothing: When in human form, Ruth can be found in a variety of business attire. Be it knee length pencil skirts with fitted blouses and a blazer, or perhaps she felt summery and is merely wearing an A-line skirt with a short sleeved gypsy top with a light jacket? She wears a large variety of clothing as she is so in love with it. She can also be seen in dresses, trousers, suits, shorts; basically everything at one point or another. She also will always be in high heels. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. She will be wearing them even when she’s kicking your ass.
When she is not in her human form, Ruth’s alien body is covered in an extremely durable, high density but lightweight battle suit. It covers her entire torso and chest area but leaves her arms exposed from the shoulder areas down. Her tendrils are entirely covered and the material has strong grippers within the material that allow her to walk on any solid surface. Her hands, all four of them, wear different gloves with varying abilities which will be outlined later. The material is a light silvery grey shimmering material that closely resembles the natural skin tone so it almost looks as if she is wearing nothing and that her markings stop at her shoulders and neck area.
Personality: Ruth is a very, very, very complex individual who is, technically, not actually an individual. Her core personality is strong, cool-headed, independent, manipulative, coercive, quick thinking, highly frickin' intelligent, tactical, charismatic and determined. She is one force of a woman and if you should find yourself in her path? Be prepared to be knocked the hell down and flattened beneath her immense force of presence. She is not a person to be trifled with and she has the capability to make your life, quite literally, a living hell should she deem it productive for her needs and wants. This is the Brainy variant that you will most commonly hear about when people talk about the Regional Manager.
However, there is more than meets the eye with Ruth and it is because of this special trait of hers that she keeps her true face away from the public. She prefers to do her dealings with people from a distance but when left with no other alternative, she will get her hands dirty. This is where the rest of Ruth’s mind comes out to play. She suffers from having a divided mind and as such she has a second personality that brings out the brawn in our villainous Regional Manager.
This side of her has the ability to have a very murderous streak and I do mean that literally. If you threaten her or really push her to the brink of her patience and piss her off? Say hello to the afterlife or whatever the hell it is you believe in because you can be fairly certain you will never see this world again. (Unless the glorious leader GM decides that you get to live. Spoil sport.) It is an emotionally unstable personality that can sometimes find it difficult to be reasonable. When in this state of mind, Ruth is very one track minded in the sense that she wishes to destroy you in every single way imaginable and possible. She will make you suffer ten times over and then have you begging for your death.
Likes:
Feminine Attire
Books
Stationary
Crushing her enemies beneath her feet
Getting her own way
Slapping people across the face (“How you humans manage to stop yourselves from doing it more often is beyond me!”)
Breaking bones
Winning arguments
Dislikes:
Not getting her own way
Crushing her enemies between her fingers
Ruined books
People stealing her stationary
Going more than an hour without slapping someone across the face
Getting blood on her designer clothing
Power Rangers
Cats
Fears:
Losing her status
Failing to reach her aspiration
Having her mind altered unwillingly
Quirks: She clicks her tongue at her subordinates in moments of impatience, her fingers often drum on any hard surface when she is waiting, her eyes narrow when she is judging someone/something and she takes a long, deep breath when she is about to go all Iki’lek on your backside.
History: Ruth’s race is one of the dozens of alien species that are part of the conglomerate known as Galatec. It was after Galatec began spreading themselves into dozens of planets that the Iki’lek’s truly realised they were split so purely down the middle in terms of what they can do. So the Brains began to work on finding a way to create the perfect Iki’lek. They used whatever resources became available to them as Galatec spread throughout the galaxy to create the perfect hybrid of the two halves of their race.
Ruth was not the first iteration of this hybrid however. Oooh no no no, she was definitely not the first. She was the 42nd attempt and she was a complete accident, at least according to the scientists that created her. That was a long, long time ago so the specifics of it have all been compartmentalised in her mind and isn’t something she likes to dwell on too much. The experiments at that time of her life were hard and unforgiving but they allowed her to discover the powers and abilities that she has now. She was only reluctantly let go by the Iki’lek scientists when they were forced to explain what they were working on to the other alien species that also made up Galatec.
It was when she was discovered that Galatec chose to put her through various training regimens to master control over her excessive strengths and courses for business and management due to her increased intelligence. During her rigorous physical training and exhausting mental training it was discovered that Ruth had a very split personality. She was two entirely different people depending on what she was focusing on at the time. This could become a problem for Ruth if she ever completely loses control over herself. It was a stressful time for her as she worked to become the “woman” that she is now.
It was during high stress levels and the will to escape the constant work and training that Ruth discovered her ability to shapeshift. She wanted to be someone else and to get away without someone chasing after her. It took her some getting used to but she soon figured she could make herself look like anyone and anything so long as she focused on it in her mind firmly enough and essentially willed herself to be them. She took this opportunity to show Galatec she was useful for more than just her mind and muscles. They began using her to help settle new planets into their phase of “life”. As she could make herself look like one of the home planet species they figured it would be more appealing to hear from a “local” to how wonderful Galatec could be!
Galatec gave her the regional management position on New Earth the moment that they set foot on it. She has been there since the beginning and has been working hard to make everything run as smoothly as possible for Galatec.
Talents: Talking, feats if brute strength, crushing things, screwing with people’s minds via telepathy, hard worker, doesn’t give in easily, she doesn’t know when to quit in a fight.
Hindrances: Dealing with animals, running when she’s not wearing heels in human form, unable to swim, cannot deal with seriously high pitched noises.
Powers:
Shapeshifting – As far as she knows, she is the only Iki’lek hybrid in existence so she is unsure if this shapeshifting ability is due to her hybrid nature or because of the accident that caused her creation. She can change her entire appearance to anything that she wishes on an organic level but she cannot impersonate an existing person. Her appearances are always an amalgamation of features she has seen on various people/images etc.
Pain Inducement – Can induce pain, psychic torture through a mental link from about 10 feet away and the pain is much stronger when she is touching you.
Force-Field Generation – Can create telekinetic barriers to block various power attacks and physical weapons. (I won’t abuse this and will always let the GM decide whether or not the barrier does/can block attacks etc.)
Telepathy – Is able to read the minds of those around herself. She finds it easier to read the minds of those she has physical contact with but can read minds fairly well within the same room, however she is not limited to just this distance. She can read minds up to a 20 feet radius but the further the subject is to the edges of her zone, the less she can read clearly.
Psychometry – The ability to read the past of a non-sentient object through touch. She can see the past 24 hours of an object. Can get a sense for who has touched/used/been around various items/rooms.
Brute Strength – Can lift 20x her own weight
Telekinesis – Control objects with one's mind. Cannot move anything larger than a car door.
Equipment:
Power Gloves – Four that look identical but each have their own powers. (They’re pretty damn basic weapons in the grander scheme of things. But considering the powers she has, I didn’t want to go OTT.)
Heat Glove – Generates a high temperature on impact with a surface/person.
Cold Glove – Generates a low temperature on impact with a surface/person.
Vibro Glove – Causes vibrations on impact with a surface/person.
Smoke Glove – Allows a smoke cloud to be generated when a small button is pressed. Otherwise it is just an armoured glove that hits a tiny bit harder than a plain old fist.
Quotes: “Maggot.” “Take that filth out of my sight before I crush you.” “Watch. My. Lips.”
Theme Song: This. :)
Aspiration: Complete and utter domination of everything.
The setting sun beamed into the executive office space through the opened glass balcony doors. Floor to roof windows matched the doors and made the entire wall seem as though it weren’t even there. A large leather office chair sat at a magnificent mahogany desk. The chair was facing out towards the balcony that was situated right behind it.
A small, balding and fairly plump human male was standing in front of the desk, his hands wringing a very sweaty handkerchief out onto his highly polished black shoes. ”I-I… I can only apo-apolo-apologise L-l-lady Re-regional…” The man stumbled over his words as they tumbled from his mouth. The sound of drumming nails on leather came from the office chair that echoed around the now deathly silent room. The chair silently swivelled around to expose its occupant. The drumming abruptly stopped.
Ruthalia Morphento, Regional Manager of Galatec on New Earth, sat upon her throne and exuded importance without making a motion or a sound. Her hair was bundled upon her head in a sleek bun that made her face look more severe than usual. Her cherry red lips were pursed with irritation and her brow may not have showed a single frown line but there was most definitely a scowl heading towards the poor man before her.
“Apologies are for the pathetic. Are you one of the pathetic, Mr Grant? Don’t answer that.” Mr Grant gulped back his answer, his mouth hanging open until the moment that Ruth swiftly stood from her chair and began to walk around her desk. Her Jimmy Choo’s clicked on the marble flooring with each step until she stopped before the trembling form that was Mr Grant. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? Come, let us stand on the balcony.”
She did not wait for a response before she clicked her way out of the office. The balcony was rimmed with waist high, black coloured, steel edged, frosted glass fencing. The sun was low enough that the shadows of the other high rise buildings and skyscrapers were now casting shadows across the building. Mr Grant hurried behind Ruth and huffed as he reached the fence. He swallowed hard and saw how high from the ground they currently were, 55 stories from the ground.
“Let me explain what is going to happen, Mr Grant.” Hands clasped in front of Ruth as she rested them on the fence. She glanced to her right, watching Mr Grant as he puffed and panted. “You are going to pay for the mistakes you have made. You are going to thank me for this outcome and be grateful that worse didn’t happen to you.” Her entire body turned towards Mr Grant and a very sweet, unsettling smile spread across her face. ”Thank you for making this decision so easy to make, Mr Grant. I wish you all the best.”
Ruth’s right hand sprung forward and grabbed Mr Grant by the neck. He coughed and spluttered, his hands grasping at her delicate looking arm. His face began to turn red when she lifted him from the ground, his stubby legs dangled as she rose his body higher than the topmost edge of the balcony edging. ”Do enjoy your complimentary skydiving lesson, Mr Grant. Consider it part of your severance package.” One fluid swing of her arm and Mr Grant was no longer on the 55th floor. An echoing yell of despair and utter terror rang out and lessened to the smallest whisper before long.
Ruth made her way back into her office, closing the glass doors behind herself before settling behind her desk once more. A small yawn left her lips before she looked towards the door of her office. “Please send in my 4 o’clock.” Her thought rang out and the buzzer to her door rang out before the door opened to allow her next appointment to enter. A nervous, bespectacled woman shuffled in and looked around the room. There were no other exits from this office and the fear that spread over the woman’s face made Ruth’s face erupt into an ecstatic smile. “Please take a seat, Mrs Grant.” |
48,724 | 1,311 | 30 | 92 | 2,185 | Oliver
The pain was massive. Being hit in the back by a Githkin was no joke. Oliver, despite this, quickly tried to see if there was anything he could do to save his friend. Unfortunately, there was no way out of this one. When Tommy smiled at Ollie it made him feel sorry for dragging someone else into trouble he caused. He said, "Sorry."
Just as Ollie turned to face the fist that would destroy his head a light appeared and had engulfed him. It was so bright that Ollie couldn't keep his eyes open. It took him a couple of seconds to get the spots to go away, but when they did he saw a room filled with work stations and computers. He then saw three other people standing on a platform with him. He only recognized one but thankfully it was Tommy. Ollie looked at the other two until he heard a voice.
The man gave this whole monologue about how he thought he and the other three could save the world. Ollie thought it wasn't possible for so few a number until he heard a two words that Ollie had jotted down as myth- Power Rangers. When Ollie was younger his mother had told him stories of amazing warriors for the human race in order to keep his hopes up. His father told him that the stories weren't real and that he should focus on waiting for the right chance to eliminate Galatec.
Ollie really didn't know if he could believe what this man was saying. On one hand Ollie was hoping that something good would happen, and on the other the man said he use to be high-ranking among Galatec. How could he trust him? When Tommy started running around with random questions, Ollie actually laughed a little. For some reason this place made Ollie more at ease. He couldn't tell why though. Unfortunately the only girl on the platform that seemed to have been poofed in started saying how this was probably a trick to test their loyalty. It made Ollie start to doubt if his hopes were coming true, but then he thought about it. Tommy and he were about to die. They also knew he was immune so why do this? Everything that was happening just confused Ollie so much until the associate of the ex-Galatec guy spoke up.
As this woman addressed Clementine's doubts Ollie got up and walked around. If this was a trick he may be able to find some proof of it. He first walked over to Tommy and asked quietly, "Hey, are you alright? That was pretty close. You know you didn't need to worry about me though." Before Tommy could answer Ollie's eyes landed on six devices on a table. The ones Tommy had mentioned earlier. For some reason Ollie felt drawn to them. They were all different colors. One was red, another blue, green, yellow, violet, and the last Ollie couldn't really tell cause he was still a little blinded from the light earlier.
Ollie eyed each of them and remembered how the woman, who had introduced herself as Samara, called Tommy Blue. He then noticed how six people were standing in the room. Six people and six-uh-things. This combined with the constant talk of Power Rangers made Ollie very confused, "Wait. How do we know for sure we can trust you? Aren't Power Rangers just stories told to kids to make them feel safe? Supposing you are telling us the truth, and Power Rangers are real. How are the six of us going to stop Galatec alone? Didn't the Power Rangers in the stories have some sort of guy over them that helped them?" | Name: Oliver Johnson
Nickname/Alias: Ollie
Race: Human
Age: 16
Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish.
Gender: Male
Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age.
Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes.
In The Mind
Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself.
He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him.
Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air.
Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it.
Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys.
Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone.
Quirks: Is constantly zoning out.
Where They’ve Been
History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth.
During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret.
Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since.
Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face.
Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything.
Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic."
Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs.
Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Green
Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator.
Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster.
Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight.
Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light.
Zords: None at the moment. |
48,725 | 1,311 | 31 | 1,815 | 418 | Mable let out a yawn as her manager proceeded to let her know once more how important this concert was. He said she could be deported if she messed this up, Mable raised a brow at him. "Deported? I'm just a pop star Gajoon, what's so important about my performance here that they need to threaten me?" She asked, her eyes sincere and innocent. She knew she was being used, but there were many details missing. Who was giving the orders, who was truly overseeing her career, and who the hell was giving her these god awful songs? She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "Never mind, I'm probably overthinking things." She said. Gajoon likely didn't know much, and even if he did he wouldn't talk, lest he risk being disappeared by Galatec.
She left the parking lot and entered the back of the stage. As Gajoon had said, there was a band waiting for her, a group of people she'd never met before. As expected they all quickly ran up to her, excited to meet her and of course honored to work with her. Mable greeted them back as if she were seeing old friends, quickly breaking the ice. "Alright everyone, we don't have much time, so let's get started!" She said, grabbing a mic. Thankfully the band Galatec had given her to work with was decent, and as far as she could tell weren't in on what the purpose of this song was. Galatec was likely forced to use outside help, she couldn't imagine it was easy to find talented musicians in their ranks.
Soon enough Mable had the performance memorized, from the song lyrics to her dance routine. As the final preparations took place she was put into a flowing colorful outfit and told to wait until the show was to start | Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist)
Nickname/Alias: Mable
Race: Valiant
Age: 20
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: Female
Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples.
Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank.
Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts.
In The Mind
Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them.
Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause.
Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets.
Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone.
Fears: Failure, gloomy moods.
Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning.
Where They’ve Been
History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet.
She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec.
Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside.
Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability.
Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire.
Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out.
Equipment: Morpher??
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Peace and Love!"
Theme Song: N/A
Aspiration: Love and Peace!
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: ??
Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe
Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points.
Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact.
Powers: ??
Zords:
Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd.
This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!"
She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough.
Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming.
As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were.
The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away.
"Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim.
After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message.
'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.'
As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home. |
48,726 | 1,311 | 32 | 1,872 | 1,663 | The young woman seemed amused by Michael's initial shock, but that amusement faded rather quickly. There were important matters at hand that deserved her attention. After Michael answered her question, she smirked and chuckled.
"You're darn right they're not normal. But you called'em devils. That tells me you're on the level." She i holstered a sidearm, an archaic weapon from a bygone era know as a 9mm pistol, and held it up in front of the confused miner. "I'm glad our contact was right and you're immune. Like us. We're here to free as many humans as we can, and cripple Galatec's biggest mining operation on the planet. They have to be stopped."
She gave pause for a moment, taking the time to look Michael right in his eyes. He could see something there. Hatred. She was consumed by it, like an inferno raging in her very soul.
"I heard about your cousin. She needs to be avenged, don't you think think?"
The foreman was forced to drop his weapon in a desperate leap to dodge the blaster Drax had fired. By twisting himself in the air he managed to narrowly avoid the first shot. As for the second, it had exactly the effect Drax intended. Jo'ones flew upward into the air in a shower of sparks, his scales burned and scorched. The lizard man fell downward, over the railing, but he did not fall to the bottom. Jo'ones made use of those fully articulate feet of his and grabbed the edge of the railing.
Just as Drax determined that the foreman was still alive, and hanging on for dear life, he received a transmission from Ruth's communication frequency. “General Drax, we have a situation. Return to the Foreman’s office now. If the lizard isn’t dead yet, bring him too.”
The workers kept going, despite Ruth's temper and slapping. Her mind probing revealed their thoughts. The first assistant was absolutely terrified of Ruth, but was using that fear to stay focused on the task at hand. She furiously tapped away at the computer, desperate for results. The second resented their treatment. He was angry with Ruth, but knew better than to complain. He too put his all into his work, but was completely flummoxed about what to do or what had happened.
As the mental commands went out, Ruth could feel the githkin of Red Rock scrambling about to complete their orders. Both in her mind and on screen Ruth could see the cloned soldiers checking under every rock, in every cranny, gathering all of the slaves that were immune to "reconditioning," and all manner of other deeds. One in particular stood out, however. Ruth felt the mind of an elite githkin reach out to her, which she recognized by his serial number XJ-47. Ma'am, I obey and have much to tell.
Meanwhile, the assistants made a breakthrough. "Madame Ruth, I found something!" called out the frightened female. "It's accounting director Shplorn!"
Indeed it was. The view screen displayed Shplorn, the director of accounting, and the currently assigned supervisor of the two slaves that went missing. She was in her personal quarters talking on some kind of communicator, but the view screen couldn't interpret what she was saying. There was some kind of interference. More than a little fishy.
The team, or the people that he had hoped would make up their team, had doubts. It was to be expected. At least Tommy instantly jumped to the cause, just as John predicted. Clementine had the biggest doubts, which seemed to express as some kind of nervous breakdown, while Oliver was simply hesitant. Jonah had been quiet so far, but that was to be expected based on the personality file John had compiled.
"My assistant is correct. You all may be this world's last hope. And no, Oliver. Power Rangers are not just stories. They simply... Haven't been needed. Not for humanity, not for some time." He took a moment to straighten his tie, then pressed a button on a remote control, which activated a view screen. Images of various power rangers throughout the ages played before their very eyes. Formidable warriors in bright colors battling evil monsters throughout time, inspiring and benevolent, they struggled for the good of the people all around them. "This is your legacy, young ones. These have been your protectors and they were very real. It has been a proud tradition of humanity. Perhaps I should show you the... Proud tradition of Galatec."
John pressed another button, and the view screen changed images. What played out before their eyes now was terrible. People forced into hard labor, some working to death. Entire planets strip-mined until they were made hollow and collapsed in on themselves. Entire species being experimented on. John switched it off just before a Galatec scientist was about to perform an autopsy on some kind of sentient alien creature... While still fully alive and aware.
"I understand why you may not be entirely trusting of me and my associate. I don't blame you. However, I want to assure you, no, promise you that I am fully trustworthy and ready to guide you. Mentor you. Please, direct you attention to the obituary on the screen." Indeed, there was now an obituary on the view screen. The name was the same the man had given as his own, with the date of death almost six months ago. However the image did not fit in the least. He was clearly a human, while the image was of some kind of tall, gaunt looking alien. "Six months ago, I faked my own death and escaped Galatec with classified technology and research equipment. I have since taken on this form in order to better blend in. I have taken a great many risks so that your people can survive and thrive in this universe. Samara has been phenomenal help, but we've reached the limit of what we can do alone. Now, it's up to you. It's time to be a hero."
Practice took a little more than a couple hours. Thank the stars that this band was actually good enough to keep up with Mable, or there was no way she'd have been able to perfect the performance. That said, after the final practice run, Gajoon stood up from his seat and began clapping, giving Mable three separate applauses with his many tentacle-arms.
"Splendid, just splendid Miss Love!" he congratulated, moving toward her and the band. "I knew you'd be able to do it. Just make sure you're as good when the lights are on and the people are out there, and we'll have ourselves a perfect show!"
Mable had herself about half an hour before she was due to report to make-up for show preparation. For now, the band began packing things up so they could rest up. Each one stepped out, heading off to who-knows-where, while Gajoon went back to conducting business on his mobile communicator. He began rattling off a list of show dates for the future, meetings they needed to conduct, all the day to day minutiae that didn't really concern Mable that much, but was Gajoon's job to deal with. In that time, there came a knock on the door. Soft, yet persistent, like someone was excited but worried about waking someone at the same time. Gajoon either didn't hear, or didn't pay it any mind, as he continued to rattle off their schedule for five weeks from today. | Name:
Jackson Trent
Nickname/Alias:
Jack, sex on a stick (imo).
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
. |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.
Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills.
Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
The Power Rangers
White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
Protecting people
The greater good
Dislikes:
Galatec
His job
Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control
His parents being under Galatec’s influence
Fears:
Slipping back under Galatec’s control
Not being able to find the Power Rangers
Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
Dying on the job
Quirks:
He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?
History:
Freedom.
That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.
Until the Power Rangers.
At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”.
That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
Animalistic instincts & reflexes
Can see multiple approaches to a problem
Agile on his feet
A linear understanding of science
Apparently quite the singer
Hindrances:
His perpetual mood swings
He always sees the good in people
Can sometimes be quick to judge
Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people
Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
An old mining torch
A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
10 shirts
4 pairs of jeans
A pair of combat boots
A pair of old sneakers
An old scarf
A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
7 bottles of water
A sleeping bag
9 MRE kits
Quotes:
“Cross your fingers.”
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into. |
48,727 | 1,311 | 33 | 1,966 | 2,601 | Michael Sonnen
It was there now, an anger and resolved forged by fire. He saw then that there was no changing her mind. That was okay, he decided a split-moment afterwards. It wasn't his life or anyone he loved. Cramped in the tunnel was readied warriors, men and women whose armor left much to be desired but whose eyes spoke of hope, fear, and a cauldron-stew of other emotions. Among them all though it was their hope for today that shone the most. Michael's breathing became even as he near-instinctively tried to calm himself. The situation was awakening something
He hadn't noticed how tensed his fist were, how strong his veins were pushing against his scarred skin. Then... like the explosion from earlier, an inferno blazed in his hazel eyes. They were shaded by suddenly down-turned brows and a tightness was in his jaw. Those words were all he needed to hear to drive his nightmares of Galatec into a corner. A corner that was wrapped in a impregnable fortress, a defense unlike anything he could conjure. It wasn't hard to figure out why but not many had strayed towards the topic of his cousin.
The pickaxe in his hand was nearly forgotten until he felt the chafing of his skin against its wood. Michael loosened his grip on it before touching the old weapon in her hand. It had some of the same features of the newer model weapons; a barrel, a trigger, but it held a kind of style that simply fitted him, he thought awkwardly.
He eyed it with curiosity, hefting the ax onto his powerful shoulder while doing so.
He spoke next without looking up, "An entire three-sixty at the mention of one word." Because to him it was really only one that sparked him. "Cousin". That single word often invoked alien emotions in him. "Either way, I'm on board but you'll have to show me how to use this," he told her finally. | Name: Michael Sonnen.
Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother).
Race: Human.
Age: 20.
Ethnicity: African American.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye.
Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In The Mind
Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious.
Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions.
Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal.
Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different.
Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs.
Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Where They’ve Been
History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think,
This isn't right...
Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought.
Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off.
His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered.
"Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-"
It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself.
Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often.
Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it?
Powers: None.
Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bonus Round
Quotes: "We fight for today!"
Theme Song: Throne
Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Red
Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung.
Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently.
Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets.
Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes.
Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty.
"Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you."
She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that.
By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic.
His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on.
Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening.
Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns.
"Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself. |
48,728 | 1,311 | 34 | 1,285 | 468 | Jonah placed a hand on Clementine's shoulder.
She was growing in instability, obviously shaken by the context of the discussion and while he understood her concern, that wasn't what they needed right now. They needed to think calmly, assess the situation and these people to determine their real motives. This was most likely a trap anyway, and even if it wasn't, there was no reason to just go along with whatever they said.
Though, one of them seemed to be totally unaware of their situation. If Jonah wasn't so focused on the task at hand, he'd slap the toy-maker across the face for acting so ridiculous in the face of a serious problem. Did he think this was some sort of game? Well, it didn't matter in the end. If this was a test, Jonah was pretty sure that guy just failed it.
The other one had his doubts, he seemed slightly more rational than the rest and rightfully questioned their chances of success. Than the woman, Samara, began talking about plans of hope and dreams and freedom. Their "mentor" even gave a speech of his own.
And then it hit him, the final conclusion born from his philosophy.
He laughed at the sudden realization, every other thought seemingly just passing by, washing away in the face of what stood before him. The possibility, the potential reality, all hitting him at once as he took a step forward after silently contemplating for a moment.
“I'm gonna say I believe him since I'm doubting that this is an exercise. Given the circumstances required, it's far too unlikely that we'd be given so much attention and planning just for a simple trust exercise or screening. We're simple workers with no great power in the system, they'd more likely just kill us if they had that high a suspicion. ” His sharp eyed glare never left his target. “And besides, even if he sends us back, the security cameras would have clearly seen us all disappear already. There will be questionings, investigations into our lives, that's how these things work when an empire loses track of its workers completely. Whatever freedoms we had before won't be there when the dust clears. So, you're either a liar or you just gambled with all of our lives for a self righteous ideal. Like I already said though, I'm assuming the latter option.”
But, with all of that being said, there was still only one option, only one course left.
“I'm in.”
Because the objective truth was, his life was over, the hope speeches and ideological resolves didn't matter. His plans were gone, whatever trust Galatec had in him would probably be broken by the time he showed his face again so he might as well go all in. What is is and what is not is not, he'd deal, that's how he lived.
“But let me make something clear, I don't believe in heroes or a righteous cause. I'm doing this because I want to.”
But even more than that, more than the logical conclusion; he had wanted this to happen, an excuse to not care. Let's face it, he'd been waiting for something like this to push him ever since he let that girl go at the mines, ever since he saw her name plastered on a random TV screen that said she had joined the rebel army officially.
"So,"
He folded his arms.
"When do we get started?" | Name: Jonah Fallen
Nickname/Alias: No
Race: Human
Age: 21
Ethnicity: East German on his mother's side, Russian on his father's side. He's also part polish and 1/15th Indian(not Native American) from his great grandmother.
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Jonah is a light skinned male standing at 6'1 with toned muscles from working and his training. He has dirty blonde hair that he likes to keep short and sweet blue eyes that are usually seen sharpening at things he finds annoying. Along with those penetrating blues, he wears a set of thick rimmed glasses and keeps a small “glasses cleaning kit” in his pocket when ever maintenance is required. Despite working out daily, he appears as an average looking young man when wearing long sleeves since he focuses more on toning his muscles rather than having huge ones. His slightly chiseled features are smooth but he has some hair on his stomach.
Clothing: He likes to keep things simple so he'll often be seen in a plain shirt and some jeans, he doesn't lean towards one color over the rest but is often seen in black or blue since his mother used to tell him it fit him best. He prefers short sleeved shirts and long pants but will change that up if it becomes uncomfortable to move in. For that same reason, he often sports sneakers as they are easy to move around in.
In The Mind
Personality: Jonah has an independent personality, he strives to be the best he can be because that's all he knows how to be. He keeps a cool head under pressure and always does his best to figure out the best solution to the problem at hand. He doesn't believe in good or evil, stating that all things are objectively of the same value. Often quiet unless spoken to, Jonah keeps an air of contemplation about himself and makes a note to distance himself from others so that they don't become a liability. While this method can supply an incredibly sturdy strength, Jonah's logical outlook can at times give way to his inter turmoils.
See, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he is not always as cool as he thinks he is. While strong and independent, Jonah's attempts at apathy hides the fact that he does care about the people around him. His emotions are often the one thing he believes holds him back but they often supply more to his motives than he'll let on. Never to show fear, never to admit defeat, Jonah's logical thoughts can turn to mush when faced with having to deal with some of his inner-demons.
Likes: Books that make you think about things. Silence.
Dislikes: Stupid people. Self righteousness.
Fears: That his rationality is just cowardice, that he's simply avoiding his greater emotions and is a hypocrite for telling people to not be controlled by them when he's letting them force him to flee from himself.
Quirks: He loves to read, mainly books on philosophy which can sometimes overlap with books on strategy though most books on the art of war were destroyed. When upset or feeling unhinged, he'll take to cleaning his glasses to regain a form of control over his person.
Where They’ve Been
History: Jonah grew up in a small apartment in a not-so-friendly part of the city. It wasn't perfect but he had what he needed. His parents, on the other hand, were not quite as okay with their arrangement as he was. Starting from the womb, his parents pressured him to be the golden-child that would sky rocket them to the big times!
Whether it was mathematics or sports, Jonah was told that he had to succeed to make life worth living for his family. He followed every rule but still slipped up, receiving negative reinforcement when he did so. But, eventually, he began to catch his stride. He started winning soccer games and getting A's on his tests and suddenly the negative reinforcement stopped. He was happy, his parents were happy, everything was better.
Until he started hating his activities, started getting tired of waking up and never doing the things he wanted. At first, he hated this turning in his stomach because he loved his parents but he still couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him so mad at them some times.
He didn't have friends to talk to so he sought knowledge in his books. The library was a short walk from his home so he'd spend as much time as he could just reading.
He had a love for philosophy and thinking and used ideals he learned to come to the conclusion that what was happening to him wasn't a bad thing, it was just a “thing” and that him giving way to subjective beliefs was what was causing him problems internally. Eventually he began to distance himself from his parents until he didn't see them as his parents anymore, he saw them as just another problem. By the time he was ten years old, he had developed a form of detached apathy, a learned behavior he adopted to keep his emotions in check. Suddenly, he didn't smile as much. He didn't laugh at all and he didn't speak quite as much as he used to. He was only a child but he got better at rationalizing with age and by the time Galatec seized complete control, he was already stead-fast in his thought process.
Besides, honestly, life didn't really change when they arrived, not for him any way. His parents went to work and left him with his books, though the material was now more about how to serve the greater good than anything else. They confiscated his other books on philosophical thinking and mathematics, apparently those were “dangerous books that brought about dangerous thoughts”. He grew up in that situation, unaware of how much the world was going to continue to change.
Time went on, and just as he thought, people began to cope with the change. It had been years, and like all things that occur, what was once “horrible tragedy” became “yesterday”. Life was in a constant state of flux and he wouldn't let such a fact break his concentration.
His mother, now a widow after the passing of her late-husband, pushed Jonah to make a name for himself in the new society, she saw that he was different than everyone else now and thought she could bank on it. Jonah agreed because he didn't want to be thought of as expendable, besides, working hard was how he made it through life, keeping his center is how he survived. He had to keep a rational mind and continue moving forward.
And that's exactly what he did.
He began working as soon as possible, Galatec didn't care about age so long as their workers knew what they were doing. Eventually, he stood out and worked his way up, volunteering for the riskier parts of the job until he was being looked at by the higher ups. He refused to sit idle, not for honor or pride but because he knew that he only got one chance at life, knew what it meant to waste time and effort.
Through it all, he kept his composure. He rationalized everything he saw, closed his eyes and reminded himself about the philosophies he put his trust in because that's all he had to stand by. Maybe he had problems with the blank eyes of some of the other workers, maybe he would be up at night, trying to see why his own eyes still flickered with life, maybe he wondered about the girl he once saw with the same eyes as him. But that didn't matter, work mattered, staying alive mattered. “You don't get second chances at life.” He reminded himself on those nights. “Galatec is in control, there is nothing you can do, don't be illogical, keep yourself centered...” Like that, every day. “What is is, and what is not is not.” They were truths, he could rely on truths. He just couldn't stand with them in his entirety. After all, he was still human.
When the opportunity arose, Jonah volunteered for bodyguard duty, knowing that it meant he'd be given martial training and hoping it would supply a better standing for himself and, by extension, his mother. He was healthy enough, had a strong build from staying fit so he didn't have much trouble being selected. His training went by pretty easily as he took rather well to punching things into submission, perhaps due to some seriously repressed rage?
Whose to say?
After the initial adrenaline of letting loose for the first time wore off, he began practicing more at home, honing his reflexes as best he could. While not a god of the martial arts, he was able to prove himself worthy enough to stand guard for some big shots in the corporation. It didn't involve much, just watching and waiting for anything to slide by, a pretty simple procedure. As time went on, he did his work well, making a small name for himself with the others in his profession. It was an easy life really, easier than manual labor though how he trained at home, you'd think other wise but he still felt an unease about himself .
One of which was when he first met a member of the rebels, a group that had yet to come to terms with what was and tried to ruin the status quo. Didn't they understand the feedback of what they were doing, how nothing changed but the amount of panic they caused to minor citizens?
He had been on a regular patrol when he saw one, a rebel running from some other guards. He moved to assist but noticed that he recognized her, she was the girl with eyes like his, eyes still flickering with life. He wasn't sure why, but he let her pass, let a dangerous rebel pass by without a fight. She looked at him at as she ran by, first with confusion and then with a small smile continued on her way. He didn't realize it until turning around to see his reflection in a window, didn't even recognize the unfamiliar sensation...
But he had a smile on his face as he watched her disappear around a corner....
After the encounter, he moved out of his old home and got a small apartment, feeling that the connections he had were clouding his judgment. Something about having to see his mother's eyes made him nervous so by 20 he was gone. Before he left, he promised her that he'd keep doing his best, though he didn't see the point in the ritual since he planned to do so anyway. His life was steady, to a degree but all of that, his worries and his real desire, came to a front when he was faced with a life changing decision.
It had been so normal, training had gone well and nothing out of the ordinary had shown up as he escorted his charge through the street. Until suddenly, everything went to hell. Someone blew a bullhorn and a fire erupted on his left, a bit distraction for the person running towards the target, his charge. The attacker, a masked assailant ran in a panicked frenzy with a scream of desperation. They were part of the rebellion. Obviously, the attack failed, Jonah struck their weapon to the ground before a sharp low kick knocked away their legs and they were falling to ground. The assailant scrambled to their feet and began to scurry away, Jonah gave chase and they made their way all the way out to the coal mines.
“Stop chasing me!” The assailant shouted as they jumped into the large ditch where the entrance was located. The masked fighter tripped on their landing and fell with a huff. As Jonah followed suit, landing in a roll, the attacker made one last lunge that Jonah quickly put a stop to when he threw them to the ground with one arm twisted behind their back. “Let me go!”
“You are weaker than me, you should have been prepared for this outcome.” He responded as he pulled off her mask to reveal....
The girl with eyes like his.
Yes, the girl he had let go earlier came back, the one he used to see when he thought about the life he was living came back after failing once already. Why did she come back, why didn't she learn her lesson and why was he thinking about letting her go again. Why did seeing this person fighting still make his heart stop a second, make him think about what he could be doing differently.
“I know you, you're the guy who let me by the last time.” She said in realization.
“And you're the one who was dumb enough to go and come back after getting a second chance at life.” He responded, deadpan as he pulled her to her feet.
“What point is there to life if you can't make your own choices?” She retorted with a strange fire in her eyes. She broke out of the grip and glared at him. “You and I have the same eyes you should see things a lot clearer.”
“Don't you understand, the war's already over.” He responded coolly. “This isn't your last pitch effort to save the world, we're not one city away from being under their control and you aren't the last key to the puzzle.” His steely blue eyes cut through her. “We've lost, the invasion you're trying stop? That's come and gone and people have moved on with their lives, what is is and what is not is not so stop living in a fairy tale world and get it together or you won't even have a life to cry about.” Those were the facts, the rebels should know that. Galatec was already in control, there wasn't a war to fight anymore, all that was left were lives to live as best as possible. Throwing yourself into a self-righteous ideal only serves to get you killed and there's no coming back from that. “Clearly, it was a mistake to let you go, I won't make it again.”
“Okay,” She still had a smile on her face though. “than why am I not being turned in right now?” And then he had to be quiet as her smirk grew. “Why do I know that you're never going to turn me in?” She walked up close and never broke eye contact. “It's because you know what they'll do to me, don't you?”She took a step forward and he took one back. “You get how that's wrong, and you care.” She stepped passed him and he turned his head but didn't move to stop her. “Ya know, a guy like you could do something if he wanted, way more than me.” She climbed out of the hole before turning to look down at him and give a quick and playful salute. “Maybe stop trying to make sense of the situation and find out what you really believe, you're a human so you should act like one!” She ran off around yet another corner, leaving him to his thoughts.
“Crap..” He said to himself.
Why did he let her let go...again!?
Why did he smile the last the time, why doesn't he feel bad about doing it now? Maybe it was an idiotic thing to give up on the ideals of right and wrong, maybe he had been idiotic about a lot of things. He had tried doing it his way for as long as he could remember, it was how he survived but was surviving and living the same thing or was he making them the same so he could deal with the situation? What were his real motives for his way of thinking, how much was logic and how much was fear?
He stood there at the entrance of the mine, thinking to himself about what he'd do next.
Talents: Logical thinking, more than anything else. Jonah may be good at fighting but that's a skill, his true talent, which could be considered the back bone of all his skills, is his logical mindset which gives him the ability to strike precisely and plan accordingly.
Hindrances: Empathizing, holding his temper, admitting he was wrong, and expressing himself.
Equipment: Morpher(Blue Ranger). A normal combat knife he keeps on him for special occasions and his glasses/glasses cleaning kit.
Bonus Round
Quotes: “What is is, and what is not is not.”
Theme Song: nope
Aspiration: To find out what he really wants in life.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation:Violet
Primary Weapon:THE PHOTON BOW
The photon bow is a light based, long bow that generates arrows of pure energy to strike down its target. The bow is capable of firing multiple arrows at once with its average maximum being four unless overcharged (which will result in a rain of twelve arrows before the weapon is forced to recharge). By turning the bow, one can focus the arrows into one incredibly condensed and narrow blast, but this attack takes a lot of time to charge which leaves the archer open to attack.
As each attack's quantity and quality are affected by both how long and in what way a person pulls back the bow string, the bow is not for the clumsy or undisciplined. It takes timing and calculation to bring out this weapon's maximum potential.
Energy Shield:
His shield is a circular shape, perfect for blocking attacks. It's a very nice shade of purple and glows in the dark.
Blaster Design: Silver trim, black trigger, mostly violet. It has a sleek design with the gun's barrel having a thin line of silver across its top. The actual muzzle is the same pitch black as the trigger and there's a neon line of green running along the side of the gun.
Powers: As the violet ranger, Jonah has the ability to see across all spectrum of sight. He makes calculations on how to strike next by scanning people's bodies with X-Ray vision and using infrared, he has the ability to shoot people down and fight accurately in the shadows. Along with X-ray and infrared, Jonah can see UV light and Radio waves along with much more. With vision beyond an eagle's, Jonah can strike down any opponent with deadly precision.
Zords:N/A
Jonah stood behind a lone tree with his binoculars set to night-vision, the darkness only lightened by the stray strands of the moon.. He had set up his sting in a small park for kids, surrounded by small shrubbery and a few trees all of which was going to be demolished soon. Across from him stood the construction zone where they were working on a 20 floor parking garage. As if the world needed more places for Galatec to park their fancy vehicles.
He was there because there had been a report of beasts getting loose from the science division, a few Githkin test subjects had broken out of the lab and ran off into the city with a few people commenting on seeing them in the park at night. No one was advised to stay indoors because Galatec didn't want panic to ruin their precious balance which meant the people of the city were being left high and dry. Instead, curfew was moved up to 9:00 pm, lucky there weren't any encounters in that short amount of time. But now, night had fallen and anyone not in doors was a target which didn't seem to matter as there had been no sign of any people for awhile.
Jonah wasn't sure if he was happy or sad about that.
In this part of town there was always someone trying to get one over on you, he remembered hearing gun shots from his window from time to time, now he doesn't hear anything, no crimes, no muggings just the silence of night.
“Every thing's so peaceful now.” He thought to himself as he watched the area. It was nights like these where he was the most conflicted. He was about to stop a few monsters that could kill a lot of people but he wasn't sure if the city has ever been safer than it is now. Nights like these could happen every day, a few Githkin escaping every night and it might not even make a dent in Earth's war torn history. This was one of the main reasons he couldn't except the other ranger's idea of a righteous victory, he couldn't say that Galatec wasn't a benefit to earth as a whole. He certainly got higher in this society than his background would have allowed him to before, there wasn't much prejudice or pollution or war. Just work and while that might be boring he couldn't say that weren't plenty of people who should only have that option in life.
*rustle*
His gaze instantly went to a bush on the opposite side of his hiding place. His hand went for his morpher but he didn't move, he wouldn't till he confirmed his target. As he watched, two figures popped out of the bush, they looked around warily before fulling stepping out into the moonlight, revealing their small frames.
Children, two of them, they walked around as if trying to find something. The first was about twelve while the other was at least 13.
Jonah didn't move from his post but instead used his binoculars to scan them closer. He noticed that they weren't frightened, instead being rather resolved. Judging by their hooded attire, they must have planned to be outside tonight. Hooded children out scouting the night sky with an emotion in their eyes, they must be part of the .5% meaning..
They were rebel scouts.
“Great, just what I needed.” Jonah scoffed to himself, obviously not thrilled with the idea of having to deal with another rebel problem. Those guys really need to start leaving things to the professionals. Not that he was any more of a professional than they were but he definitely had more combat training. Luckily they didn't spot him as he hid in the shadows, to bad a very aggressive group of something had the duo in their sights.
The rogue Githkins, five of them. The creatures moved toward the children and they screamed. The scout duo clearly hadn't had access to the same reports that his team had. The younger child ducked behind the eldest but still held some form of courage as the creatures drew nearer. The first Githkin raised it's hand to strike but the blow was offset by a timely thrown stone that knocked it's hand off course. The beast quickly turned to identify the attacker only to be met with a larger stone striking it in the face, in fact they were all being pelted with stones, most at their legs and ankles but a number of them aimed at their eyes and face.
The children were initially scared but then became rather perplexed when they saw their would-be attackers being pelted. They stood there curious before a glimpse of a figure in the shadows ushering them to escape had them nodding and running back into the bushes, leaving as fast as they had come.
“Perfect.” Jonah thought within the shadows. “They didn't see my face and I managed to sit some of those idiots in the eye.” He quickly scanned them over, three of the five still looked like they had a decent control of their faculties. “Even blind, that's still too many for my liking, I'll have to fight them on my terms if I wanna win.”
And then he remembered the construction yard.
“That's it.” He dashed out of the foliage to close the distance between him and the Githkin, Shocked at first, one made a fierce swing he ducked and rolled under before popping up to his feet in between the two blinded by stones. He deflected a left hook with an open palm before his leg whipped up to kick both eye damaged Githkin's in the chest, leg swinging back and forth between the two of them.
"As I thought." The attack merely stunned them and soon the others were on him as well, swinging violently as he back flipped away and skidded to a stop. “That's right, your enemy's right here,” He cockily saluted before running into the parking garage shadows with the Githkin's hot on his trail. “Alright,” He swiped his hand over his wrist and his morpher flashed
“Strike force, flash forward!”
In the parking garage on level three, the Githkin's crept. Deep into the shadows they lurked, foot steps echoing in the hollow space, often turning at the sight of a shadowy gray figure passing by them like a phantom. Their eyes scanned the area for their prey but to no avail. As they passed by a pillar of stone, a sound, a click, had them halting in surprise. They lay unaware of who was on the other side.
"X-Ray activated..."
Jonah, donned in dark purple armor of his ranger form stood with bow drawn. The dim light of the bow focused and tightened as the arrow of light condensed.
"Focusing rate: 100%"
The creature's pondered as they began to take a step closer to the pillar of stone.
"Firing..."
Jonah released the bow string and the arrow shot through the stone pillar and the skull of the Githkin on the other side.
The other soldiers went frantic on the defense when their companion turned into ooze but Jonah was already moving.
"Infrared activated."
His vision swapped out and suddenly he could see all of them clearly as they scrambled in the darkness. He pulled his bow string back before dashing out of his hiding place in a dive roll, landing on one knee with bow drawn and arrows already appearing between his fingers. He let it loose, just as the nearest Githkin began to notice his presence, and littered its body with three arrows to its chest. It screeched before dissolving and suddenly he couldn't hide anymore. They closed in but Jonah was already readying his bow as they rushed him.
“Here we go..”
He dashed backwards as one came down on him with a punch that cracked the concrete. As it moved to continue its rampage, he released a charged arrow through its chest before running up to back-kick it into the others and fire another three arrows into the group. As they scrambled to regroup in the shadows, he switched to X-Ray and scanned them for damage.
“That last attack was on stun but the one in front received most of the damage and can't move, I'll focus my attacks on the two left as the weakened one slows them down.”
By the time he finished his thought they were on him again. He back-flipped to dodge a high swing and side stepped the flying kick from another, striking the attacking Githkin with his bow before having to dash backwards and avoid the mighty swing of the weakened Githkin. He returned to the fray with a flying knee that struck the weakened Githkin in the chest, knocking it into one of its companions and freeing Jonah to strike down the one now left alone.
It moved to attack but he back-flipped away to skid across the ground with bow drawn. As the arrow charged, he dodged the incoming blows from the Githkin soldier; ducking and weaving past each punch, smacking away the clumsy kick that followed with a high kick of his own and bringing up his bow before releasing it at point blank range to turn the soldier's skull into gray goop and watching as the rest of its body dissolved.
Just as the other two Githkins managed to center themselves and go for a retaliation, his purple suit turned dark gray and he faded back into the shadows. Like a phantom, he circled them as he slid from pillar to pillar in the darkness. With a steady hand he pulled back his bow string and two arrows appeared between his fingers. The light of the arrows released a light shine as they began to glow.
And then he was dashing forward
He released the two arrows, hitting the back of the weakened Githkin's legs and making it buckle to its knees. As it went to get up, Jonah ran up its back and used it as a spring board to become air borne with bow string drawn. Before the other Githkin could think, it was struck with three stun arrows to the chest and Jonah was closing the remaining distance with a flying kick that had it skidding backwards. As the Githkin stumbled to regroup, Jonah hit the ground in a roll, landing right below the soldier on one knee with bow pointing straight up.
"Firing."
He released and the concussive force smashed into the Githkin's jaw, sending it flying up into the air and falling to the ground with a splat. Standing to full height, he turned, fingers already pulling back his bow string. He casually walked by the remaining drone and with out looking, let go the arrow of light between his fingers.
The last thing it heard was the whirl of energy....
Jonah breathed heavily as his ranger form shattered out of existence. He had been lucky, the obstacles in the unfinished parking garage gave him ample back up for his strategy. Had he been left in the open, the tide could have very well changed to their favor but what could have been wasn't really important now. By hook or by crook he was still alive and the kids were still alive, that was all that mattered now.
He sighed to himself, heart still racing from the exertion. He waited for a moment to steady himself before he retrieved the item he had been hiding in the back of his pants. A flare gun, simple but elegant in its design. He pointed the weapon up at the sky and fired. The flare flew high into the sky before exploding like a fire work.
“That'll get Galatec's attention.” He noted. Now notified in as proper a way as possible, the corporation could retrieve their lost and unstable experiments. Jonah wasn't totally pleased with the idea of assisting someone he had designated as his enemy but he couldn't clean this up on his own and Galatec had better facilities for the alien soldiers albeit slave ready more than anything else. “I guess that means the mission's over.”
“Time to head back to base.” |
48,729 | 1,311 | 35 | 2,301 | 766 | Adelram Drax
Adelram calculated his next course of action. With the Foreman over the railing, a swing of his axe would be very problematic for the ex-soldier. He grabbed the end of the handle of his axe that was attached to his back, but halted when a sudden communication fizzled through his communication.
His new directive was to take the Foreman captive once more, if he was not already dead. Drax's mission was just extended as the Foreman was currently still alive. He also began to consider the possibilities as to why the Regional Manager wished to see the Foreman once again. However, it was not of his concern. The mission will be completed.
"Foreman Jo'ones, Madam Ruthalia wishes to have an audience with you. Your compliance is not necessary but may be appreciated." Drax said, voice predictably even and clear. As he spoke these words he quickly paced over to where the Foreman was hanging and attempted to grab his legs with his giant left hand. | Name: GD-002-17
Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath
Race: Android/Robot
Age: 7
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: "Male"
Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form.
Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints.
His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder.
In The Mind
Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view.
When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords.
Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like.
Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike.
Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up.
Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission.
Where They’ve Been
History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax.
When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin.
He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him.
Talents:
Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down.
Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons.
He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander.
He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum.
He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent.
Hindrances:
He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck.
If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited.
Powers:
Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry.
Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain.
Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position.
Equipment:
Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers.
One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies.
Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time.
And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering.
He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air.
Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out.
Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision.
Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets.
Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload.
Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired.
Bonus Round
Quotes:
"..."
"The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%."
"..."
Theme Song: i dunno
Aspiration: File not found.
"Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure.
"The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun.
"Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight.
"This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply."
The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor.
The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail.
Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking.
Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up.
Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind.
When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere.
If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed.
He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level. |
48,730 | 1,311 | 36 | 1,815 | 418 | What's that sound? Is... is that a bunch of fish floundering about? Mable mused, only to turn around and see that it was her manager clapping with his Lovecraftian arms. She held in a laugh that desperately wanted to get out. "Don't you worry about my performance, I've never made a single mistake during a concert, and I won't start now."
With practice done and her make-up applied she had nothing to do until the show started, that is until someone knocked on a door. Mable looked around and saw that no one else was in a hurry to see who it was, so she walked up to it herself and opened it. | Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist)
Nickname/Alias: Mable
Race: Valiant
Age: 20
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: Female
Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples.
Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank.
Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts.
In The Mind
Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them.
Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause.
Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets.
Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone.
Fears: Failure, gloomy moods.
Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning.
Where They’ve Been
History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet.
She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec.
Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside.
Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability.
Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire.
Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out.
Equipment: Morpher??
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Peace and Love!"
Theme Song: N/A
Aspiration: Love and Peace!
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: ??
Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe
Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points.
Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact.
Powers: ??
Zords:
Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd.
This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!"
She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough.
Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming.
As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were.
The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away.
"Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim.
After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message.
'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.'
As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home. |
48,731 | 1,311 | 37 | 2,305 | 2,032 | Hearing Samara say that 'Galatec was not their friend' let it sink in for Clementine that this wasn't a joke. Then this alien named John showed them a video of Galatec's legacy. Clementine admitted that Galatec had its fair share of issues, but Galatec was so big, some things were bound to slip through the cracks. Besides, wasn't the best way to change a broken system to fix it from the inside? And it wasn't like Clementine was completely unaware of some of the 'less ethical' aspects of the company or the 'harsher' working conditions of some of the employees; her short time at the mines had shown her more than enough, it didn't seem like Galatec had much intention to hide it from her. But it was just one of those things people were supposed to take as an unfortunate necessity. That's right, if it weren't for the rebels disrupting operations, output would be at maximum, profit margins would be met, and the surplus would be trickled down, improving everyone's standard of living. Yes, if this alien was true to his word, he'd let her walk away from here; she could report what she had seen, no doubt he worked with the rebels who made life difficult for everyone. She turned to look at Jonah for reassurance, and he gave it to her by placing his hand on her shoulder, calming her considerably. She was about to ask to be allowed to leave when Jonah did something she didn't expect: he laughed. Then he mentioned that their lives as employees was officially over.
"Mr. Fallen! Y-you can't mean that!" Clementine gasped as she turned around, grabbing his collar. "I'm just an office worker, I'm not part of this. They'll take me back...they'll forgive me...I've worked too hard to lose everything like this..." She said this more in an attempt to convince herself against what she already knew to be true. Clementine dropped to her knees and recalled all the news stories she had seen, reminding her of some of the more draconian measures that were taken against rebels and suspected rebel sympathizers, measures that she felt were justified at the time but thought otherwise now that she was potentially on the receiving end. Of course, none of it fell under the legal definition of 'torture', but then again, the legal team that defined 'torture' was part of Galatec's own legal department.
"My life is over. They'll kill me, or worse..." Clementine muttered to herself. She looked at Jonah, then at Samara and John, and then over to Oliver and Tommy. Then, uncharacteristically, Clementine asked something she never thought she'd dare to ask, "I-is there any hope of us winning?" | Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title?
Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker
Race: Humany Human of Humaness
Age: 21
Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases.
Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth.
In The Mind
Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need.
Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things.
Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others.
Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black.
Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can.
Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts.
Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own.
Where They’ve Been
History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens.
Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free.
After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously.
It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him.
Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things.
Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger.
Powers: N to the A biatch.
Equipment:
Blue Photon Morpher
Red-Light-Emitting Necklace
Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools.
Ripped up miner clothes.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!"
Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Blue
Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying.
Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through.
Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means.
Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it. |
48,732 | 1,311 | 38 | 2,250 | 2,211 | Given that Oliver was the youngest of the chosen, Samara couldn’t fault him for being unable to put this situation together on his own. They were simple questions she was more than capable of answering, but the fact that the questions were asked in such a mixed order did not do favors for her. This role—assisting John—had its upsides, but playing 20 questions wasn’t one of them. Her jaw tensed and she forced a smile, “Oliver, you don’t know if you can trust us, that’s the idea,” she said. Samara returned her ID card to her back pocket. It seems that it had gone ignored, or worse, no one was willing to believe that this wasn’t a plot to expose them. “You’re taking a risk and so are we—I just did.”
Maybe it was hard to miss somehow, but there was no secret-keeping on their side of things. John was explaining everything relevant to the situation at hand and that included his old role within Galatec, leaving room for questions. Thankfully sparing her from a headache, John had handled the other question that he could comfortably answer, and left those that were not productive behind. He brought up footage, footage that she helped compile with glee, of Power Rangers from the past that stood together against overwhelming odds. From Mighty Morphin’ and onward, the clips compiled just before the second Dinosaur-related team was crafted from a past mentor and a legendary ranger. Sadly, no one seemed to appreciate the effort, and they didn’t appear to find any inspiration or courage from the videos linked to them. Samara didn’t blame them after John put up that horrible autopsy video, one she had seen too many times already, but at least the other footage was pretty cool.
Jonah had spoken next and put things together pretty quickly. Her eyes narrowed slightly as he went on, and it took every ounce of her strength not to cut him off for even considering that John was a liar. She had worked with this man for too long to doubt his interest in ending Galatec. There may have been some intelligence behind that shoddy effort to assert some form of dominance over them, but Samara was not willing to humor the attitude. All that mattered was that he would fight against Galatec. His reasons were his own.
As expected, he ended up agreeing to do this just as Tommy had.
With that rant over, Clementine’s panic was still active. She grabbed Jonah by his collar and seemed far too frantic to find self-control all on her own. After sinking to her knees, Clementine had begun to mutter to herself about the fate she was going to find if she returned. Jonah wasn’t the shining example of what it would mean to be a Power Ranger, but he was right about one thing: There would be questioning, very intense questioning, about where they vanished to and what they saw. Galatec may choose to believe them, and they may get to return to their lives, but that was the best case scenario. It didn’t sound like the greatest outcome they could hope for, but Clementine was already losing herself in fear of the consequences should she return.
Samara sighed and held up a hand to John that told him to let her handle Clementine. The assistant approached Clementine and knelt down so that they were at the same eye level. There was a pity in her eyes that wasn’t there before. “Clementine, down here in the dirt is where you already are. You just don’t see it yet,” Samara said. “You don’t mine that ore like everyone else but believe me when I say that you’re just a warm body that has enough sense to do what they tell you to. At the end of the day, that is all you are to them, and that is all you’ll ever be.”
Clementine was one of the two she didn’t want to involve in this. She was crumbling under pressure before she was even put in a position that placed her in danger. If this was going to be a constant for her—dropping onto her knees and seeking forgiveness from her Galatec overlords—then Samara may preemptively decide to return her and let her talk her way out of what happened. It wasn’t out of spite; as said earlier, if they don’t wish to fight not only for themselves but for others too, they can be returned elsewhere and try to get back to their mediocre, submissive lives.
“I’ve shown you my identification. John has agreed to mentor all of you and get you where you need to be to fight these people. Both of us have slaved to give humanity a fighting chance against Galatec, and we took a risk with the four of you. So yeah,” Samara glanced at Jonah for a moment, then faced Clementine again. “Sorry we didn’t get your consent. You didn’t get to ask mommy and daddy for permission to help save the world. But we are desperate, our options are few, and at the end of the day John put his faith in you, even when I was in doubt. He sees what you are capable of, and he chose you—no one else came before you—he chose YOU—” Samara lightly poked Clementine's forehead, “—to give us our world, and our freedom back.”
Samara returned to her feet, then extended a hand for Clementine to take if she chose to. “We’re going to help you face them every step of the way, but I refuse to help you walk when you’re happy crawling. Make a choice Clem,” Samara glanced at Oliver,”and that goes for you, too. Say the word and I get you out of this. Don’t trust us. Go back to scraping out a living at their heels.”
Unlike John, Samara was not willing to let this self-pity continue before it became a serious problem. Clementine was killing any morale John and herself hoped to build by sinking so pitifully. This couldn’t be the path for everyone, but if Clementine was wavering at this stage she would only let others down who would be counting on her.
“Or, join us, and create the hope you’re looking for.”
Samara would only hold her hand out for several seconds longer. Regardless if Clementine had considered anything she had said, or chose to stay in the dirt and moan about how life was so hard for her, the assistant would return to her computer and prep the RDS for a return trip should they want to walk away. Otherwise, she would return to combing the mines for Michael with the radar, who she hoped would add some much-needed strength to this shaky, incomplete team. Until addressed personally, there was nothing more she had to say. John could take it from there. | Samara Morgan
Name - Samara Morgan
Nickname/Alias - N/A
Race - Human
Age - 23
Ethnicity - African-American
Gender - Female
Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis.
Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend.
In The Mind
Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends.
She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest.
However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood.
Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right.
Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously.
Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames.
Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her.
Where They’ve Been
History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background.
One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed.
It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold.
It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking.
The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way.
Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising.
Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture.
Powers - N/A
Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone.
Bonus Round
Quotes - No.
Theme Song - Never.
Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary. |
48,733 | 1,311 | 39 | 1,872 | 1,663 | Oh... you really have studied up on us if you know I don't eat galatec food. Remarked Tommy, who did not need to be told twice to eat. In fact, he was so hungry that he ate the entire snack bar in record time, and drank half of the water bottle. Almost dying tends to make one hungry... as does undernourishment. After having scarfed down the food, he finally registered that Oliver had spoken to him as well. He was quickly distracted as well though, so that was fortunate. "Nonsense buddy, we both know you'd have likely died there... and I don't like seeing friends die!" He said, giving Oliver a big smile.
Watching videos of aliens getting dissected alive was a bit of a downer. However, it was soon contrasted by the glory of various power ranger teams! Those warriors sure seemed powerful and colorful. Tommy liked colorful, nothing more boring than monochromatic surroundings. Perhaps he would be able to decorate this place once they had all officially joined up...
However, once Jonah spoke, he quickly lost some of his demeanor. There was one thing that Tommy could not simply dismiss with a jolly attitude. "Well... you're right about one thing stoic analytical guy, we can't go back. Personally I don't particularly care, I can be happy wherever I am! But that leaves the question, what about our loved ones? We all know Galatec will come looking for them eventually."
Tommy fumbled around with a little metal dinosaur he had in his belt. Perhaps with a bit of the oranium he could create a mechanism that would make the eyes glow... and perhaps thinking of this would distract him from the possibility that his family might very well die... | Name:
Jackson Trent
Nickname/Alias:
Jack, sex on a stick (imo).
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
. |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.
Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills.
Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
The Power Rangers
White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
Protecting people
The greater good
Dislikes:
Galatec
His job
Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control
His parents being under Galatec’s influence
Fears:
Slipping back under Galatec’s control
Not being able to find the Power Rangers
Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
Dying on the job
Quirks:
He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?
History:
Freedom.
That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.
Until the Power Rangers.
At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”.
That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
Animalistic instincts & reflexes
Can see multiple approaches to a problem
Agile on his feet
A linear understanding of science
Apparently quite the singer
Hindrances:
His perpetual mood swings
He always sees the good in people
Can sometimes be quick to judge
Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people
Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
An old mining torch
A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
10 shirts
4 pairs of jeans
A pair of combat boots
A pair of old sneakers
An old scarf
A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
7 bottles of water
A sleeping bag
9 MRE kits
Quotes:
“Cross your fingers.”
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into. |
48,734 | 1,311 | 40 | 1,966 | 2,601 | Michael Sonnen
Quicker than most, Michael got the basics of his arm down. He held it in his hand and made sure, at least twice, that the safety was off. He touched his scar out of several emotions, none more than fear. However, beyond that menacing trepidation was a powerful need for vengeance. It felt both overwhelming and necessary.
Among the other soldiers, if he could call them that, Michael positioned himself near the only person he had spoken to. He had twelve shots to play with and another to replace the first should he run out. On the fringes of his mind, he realized he was still carrying his pickaxe. Should I run out of ammunition, I always have this to rely on.
He held tight to it as the rusted elevator hummed upward, creaking and scraping with age. Michael couldn't put his finger on why he had blindingly charged into the fray with this band of strangers. All he could imagine, all he could think it might be; was his torturous guilt over Courtney's death.
I couldn't show you in life, Courtney... The cancer that Galatec is. So maybe in death, if you're watching and not rotting in the ground... maybe you can see through my eyes, the evil thats in theirs.
Outwardly he heaved. Outwardly his muscles tensed and his palms became moist with sweat. On the inside, he felt how he looked on the out. Full of adrenaline. | Name: Michael Sonnen.
Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother).
Race: Human.
Age: 20.
Ethnicity: African American.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye.
Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In The Mind
Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious.
Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions.
Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal.
Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different.
Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs.
Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Where They’ve Been
History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think,
This isn't right...
Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought.
Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off.
His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered.
"Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-"
It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself.
Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often.
Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it?
Powers: None.
Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bonus Round
Quotes: "We fight for today!"
Theme Song: Throne
Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Red
Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung.
Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently.
Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets.
Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes.
Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty.
"Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you."
She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that.
By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic.
His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on.
Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening.
Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns.
"Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself. |
48,735 | 1,311 | 41 | 2,305 | 2,032 | Jackson listened closely as the girls introduced themselves, recalling how great Galatec was to get them such a good job where they could stick together. Boy, Galatec was just great!
”Nice to meet you! I’m Jackson, and I’ll be your driller for this evening,” he chuckled, gesturing to the drill behind him. He took another bite of his sandwich, rubbing his hands on his pants as the musty air almost circled around him, drawn away from the dim lights and clinging to his clothes, though the man was completely oblivious to it. Such was the naivety of a brainwashed worker like him, looking at the aliens around him and seeing them as companions, rather than what would come to be his worst enemy. | Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title?
Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker
Race: Humany Human of Humaness
Age: 21
Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases.
Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth.
In The Mind
Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need.
Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things.
Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others.
Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black.
Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can.
Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts.
Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own.
Where They’ve Been
History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens.
Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free.
After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously.
It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him.
Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things.
Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger.
Powers: N to the A biatch.
Equipment:
Blue Photon Morpher
Red-Light-Emitting Necklace
Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools.
Ripped up miner clothes.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!"
Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Blue
Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying.
Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through.
Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means.
Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it. |
48,736 | 1,311 | 42 | 1,815 | 418 | As Mable opened the door, her face froze in shock. Standing before her was a Githkin, one of the mass produced beings used by Galatec as peacekeepers and soldiers. Why was it here? Had Galatec somehow found out about her involvement with the rebels? For months she had been slipping the rebel faction any information she could, as long as there was zero risk to revealing her position. She considered her options. With her strength she could easily take out this Githkin, however, there was no way it was alone. If she started a fight here she would likely need to content with whatever was waiting for her outside. Giving her a chance to turn herself in peacefully? Big mistake.
"...Wait, what's that in your... oh....... OHHHHH."
Mable giggled to herself and ruffled the back of her head. "You know you can get in trouble if anyone catches you, right? You aren't supposed to be back here." She took the pen and pad and wrote down her full name in painfully fancy cursive. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, just be careful from now on, alright? After all, I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to any of my precious fans!" | Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist)
Nickname/Alias: Mable
Race: Valiant
Age: 20
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: Female
Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples.
Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank.
Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts.
In The Mind
Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them.
Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause.
Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets.
Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone.
Fears: Failure, gloomy moods.
Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning.
Where They’ve Been
History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet.
She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec.
Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside.
Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability.
Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire.
Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out.
Equipment: Morpher??
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Peace and Love!"
Theme Song: N/A
Aspiration: Love and Peace!
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: ??
Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe
Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points.
Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact.
Powers: ??
Zords:
Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd.
This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!"
She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough.
Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming.
As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were.
The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away.
"Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim.
After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message.
'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.'
As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home. |
48,737 | 1,311 | 43 | 92 | 2,185 | Oliver
So many questions ran through Oliver's head, but the primary one was why him? He wanted to believe this was all true, but he just couldn't fully believe. Not yet at least. With all the others accepting the request to join the team the last one was Ollie. He didn't want to disappoint them, but he didn't know if he was strong enough.
His thoughts kept drifting back to his parents, and he thought to himself, *What would they want me to do?* He knew that they had wanted him to live his own life. Not controlled by Galatec. He realized that the only way to do that was probably with these people. If he went back he would die. No other option. He just hoped he wouldn't mess things up. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be, but I guess it's the only thing to do. I'll help. Just tell me what to do, and I'll get it done." | Name: Oliver Johnson
Nickname/Alias: Ollie
Race: Human
Age: 16
Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish.
Gender: Male
Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age.
Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes.
In The Mind
Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself.
He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him.
Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air.
Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it.
Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys.
Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone.
Quirks: Is constantly zoning out.
Where They’ve Been
History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth.
During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret.
Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since.
Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face.
Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything.
Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic."
Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs.
Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Green
Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator.
Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster.
Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight.
Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light.
Zords: None at the moment. |
48,738 | 1,311 | 44 | 427 | 1,112 | A sneer formed on Ruth’s face, the contempt and anger that she was holding down was clearly evident to anyone in the room. She may have been partially pleased at the terror that one of these disgraces felt towards her but the resentment that she instilled in the second made her positively giddy. The stupid maggot had set a giant target on its back and she waited to find a reason to pounce on the opportunity. She did like her some slapping before ordering someone else to do her dirty work.
That is when she realised that she was perhaps being a little too emotional and that just wouldn’t do. A lot had happened and she had to keep her mind clear and capable. She took a calming breath and instead plastered her charming smile on her face once more. She walked around to stand behind the resentful employee with a click and a clack. Her well-manicured hands rested on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze of encouragement. She said no words, she simply smiled and held onto his shoulders. He may be resentful but she could appreciate his ability to read the room, perhaps he didn’t deserve to be utterly decimated. She had to look on the positives of the situation especially considering what she was currently dealing with.
It always pleased Ruth to feel the Githkin skittering around like insects, listening to her every order. She still held a deep, secret desire about the Githkin but it would have to wait. For now, ordering them around to carry out her desires and needs. Her eyebrow rose as she heard XJ-47 responding to her command. “Report to the Foreman’s office immediately. I need all of the information that you have.”
As the frightened little wisp of an assistant spoke out, Ruth felt the scowl breaking across her brow. Shplorn. Ruth reached out once again with her mental communication and began talking to the Githkin of higher import on the same floor, in the same area as accounting director Shplorn. Ruth’s mind found that of KT-25, another Elite Githkin that wore the standard Elite sash and was missing the two outermost fingers on their left hand.
“Elite Githkin, KT-25. I require you to take a small group of Githkin to Accounting Director Shplorn’s private rooms and bring her to me by any means necessary. Try to keep things calm if possible but I give permission to use force where necessary.”
“Yes Regional Manager, I will bring Accounting Director Shplorn to you directly.” The Elite Githkin motioned for four other Githkin to come with them as they made their way immediately towards Shplorn’s private quarters. KT-25 rose their left hand and knocked on Shplorn’s door. “Accounting Director Shplorn! Regional Manager Ruthalia requires your immediate assistance in the Foreman’s office. We request that you open the door now.” KT-25 stepped back from the door and awaited the answer from Shplorn.
Ruth was satisfied with KT-25’s instant reaction to her commands and made a mental note to herself to place a positive note in the Githkin’s file. The door opened and Ruth saw her General walking in with a rather beaten up Foreman Jo’ones. Her nose wrinkled and she realised just how emotional she had been but, all things considered, his assistants would never step out of line again. Just behind Drax, Elite Githkin XJ-47 and Githkin 27-B walked into the office.
She noted the scar on its face and made yet another note to herself to find out what this Githkin had done to receive such a scar. She would be dealing with a lot of files later it seemed. The concern whirring through her mind was insane. She could not let her bosses hear of this. This was the last thing that Ruth needed right now, this was not exactly what she was expecting but it was worse.
“XJ-47, please make your way towards KT-25 and assist them and their team with bringing Accounting Director Schplorn to me.” She then turned to the resentful assistant and gave him a gentle smile. “Send out an alert on the following humans; Jonah Fallen, Clementine Mayweather, Oliver Johnson and Tommy Reese. I also want all known family of these named individuals to be gathered and placed in a secure location with round the clock security and surveillance. Any known associates should also be kept under constant surveillance but I do not require them to be taken from their homes just yet. Make it happen.”
She turned and made her way towards Drax, looking at Foreman Jo’ones in his sorry state. “Thank you for returning the Foreman so promptly Drax. Ensure he is secured and unable to move but make him comfortable at least. I see you took your job seriously but you did a poor job in making sure his skin would be in fit condition to be used for my bag. I give you a B- for this order.” She patted his giant armoured forearm and crouched down to look at the face of Jo’ones. “Do try to be thankful for your second chance. I don’t give them out lightly.” She wasn’t entirely sure he could even hear her but it was more for show anyway.
Ruth stood up and smoothed out the creases from her dress. She looked around the room and pursed her lips in thought. Her right hand was tingling, it was apparently having bitch slap withdrawals. | Name: Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento
Nickname/Alias: Ruth, ThinkTank, Lady Regional, RM
Race: Iki'lek
Age: I’ve lived more years than you could possibly ever count, maggot.
Ethnicity: Iki'lek Hybrid
Gender: Gender is such a primitive thing, but I do have a fondness for the feminine attire your world has. So let’s go with female, for now.
Appearance: Ruth has two main appearances that you will see. Her public face is one that you want to give attention to yet makes you feel the need to divert your gaze at the same time as it draws you in. She opts for pale skin, sprinkled with freckles over its entirety. Her body stretches out to a modest 5’8” without the enhancements of high heels. (“These spectacular extensions for your lower appendages are absolutely marvellous!”) Her body type is that of womanly but well taken care of. When you can have any human body that you choose, why wouldn’t you give yourself what you feel is the most desirable body available?
Her eyes are generally a dark hazel shade with a very prominent black halo around the iris. Her golden, copper brown hair reaches just below her shoulders and is generally styled in some manner befitting those in the Business profession on Earth. She is a fan of feminine make-up products and has become very proficient in applying it to her face and nails. She has a mass array of different colours that suit her preferred skin tone and hair colour.
The second, and most natural, of Ruth’s appearances is not a common sight. Her race has skin that is silvery grey in colour that has a shimmering light to it. Her torso closely resembles that of a human in the sense that it holds the appendages and head together and contains almost all the vital organs. There are not just four appendages, there are fourteen. She has four arms, two at the same area as human arms and then a secondary pair sitting beneath those, protruding from the torso sides. The arms are very similar to human arms but are slightly longer, and there are six fingers on each hand with a thumb making it seven total. He does not have legs or feet, instead she has ten tendrils (see what I did there? I’m so funny…) much like an octopus or squid would have but these are full of muscle and allow her to move at high speeds and very erratically.
Her head is slightly more difficult to describe. If you imagine a generic Martian to a human you think of a bulbous upper head, longer chin area and giant, black, and bulbous eyes that are almost as big as the entire head. Well the bulbous upper half is similar to what Iki’lek heads look like. It reaches further out to the back of the cranium though, but not by much. The lower face is longer and more drawn out than a human but not quite as much as a Martian face. Both halves of the race have no nose, instead they have slits much like a snake would. The Brawn half have a large, gaping maw that allows them to bite their targets and to yell out of. The Brain half have no mouth as they communicate telepathically. For Ruth, as she is a hybrid, does not look quite like the two single halves of the Iki’lek race.
The Brawn half have smaller, more protruding eyes that face forward and have near tunnel vision while the Brain half have larger and less centralised eyes that rest closer to the sides of the skull to allow them to have a far wider range of vision. Ruth, however, has larger bulbous eyes that are slightly to the sides while still allowing her to see forward only if she so wishes thanks to her secondary set of eyelids which she can use as blinders. Her eyes aren’t black however, they are a deep, dark purple colour and her mouth is not quite as large as her Brawny brethren. She could bite onto you but probably wouldn’t be able to swallow your entire head like they could.
The final noteworthy marking of her alien appearance is that of the markings across her entire body. Her head, face, neck and spinal cord (at least what you can see of it) have sky blue markings, like that of a calligraphy pen being dragged across a piece of paper to create weaving lines that crossover and connect like a fluid tapestry. The rest of her body that you could see (basically just her arms at this point) are covered in disjointed and jagged looking maroon coloured markings. They are erratic and seem to have no pattern to them at all. Both of these markings look almost as though they are not actually on the skin, almost like they are floating on the surface of water and are in constant motion. This race has no hair on their body and, their tendrils stretched out fully, stand at around 6’5” in length from head to… toe?
Clothing: When in human form, Ruth can be found in a variety of business attire. Be it knee length pencil skirts with fitted blouses and a blazer, or perhaps she felt summery and is merely wearing an A-line skirt with a short sleeved gypsy top with a light jacket? She wears a large variety of clothing as she is so in love with it. She can also be seen in dresses, trousers, suits, shorts; basically everything at one point or another. She also will always be in high heels. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. She will be wearing them even when she’s kicking your ass.
When she is not in her human form, Ruth’s alien body is covered in an extremely durable, high density but lightweight battle suit. It covers her entire torso and chest area but leaves her arms exposed from the shoulder areas down. Her tendrils are entirely covered and the material has strong grippers within the material that allow her to walk on any solid surface. Her hands, all four of them, wear different gloves with varying abilities which will be outlined later. The material is a light silvery grey shimmering material that closely resembles the natural skin tone so it almost looks as if she is wearing nothing and that her markings stop at her shoulders and neck area.
Personality: Ruth is a very, very, very complex individual who is, technically, not actually an individual. Her core personality is strong, cool-headed, independent, manipulative, coercive, quick thinking, highly frickin' intelligent, tactical, charismatic and determined. She is one force of a woman and if you should find yourself in her path? Be prepared to be knocked the hell down and flattened beneath her immense force of presence. She is not a person to be trifled with and she has the capability to make your life, quite literally, a living hell should she deem it productive for her needs and wants. This is the Brainy variant that you will most commonly hear about when people talk about the Regional Manager.
However, there is more than meets the eye with Ruth and it is because of this special trait of hers that she keeps her true face away from the public. She prefers to do her dealings with people from a distance but when left with no other alternative, she will get her hands dirty. This is where the rest of Ruth’s mind comes out to play. She suffers from having a divided mind and as such she has a second personality that brings out the brawn in our villainous Regional Manager.
This side of her has the ability to have a very murderous streak and I do mean that literally. If you threaten her or really push her to the brink of her patience and piss her off? Say hello to the afterlife or whatever the hell it is you believe in because you can be fairly certain you will never see this world again. (Unless the glorious leader GM decides that you get to live. Spoil sport.) It is an emotionally unstable personality that can sometimes find it difficult to be reasonable. When in this state of mind, Ruth is very one track minded in the sense that she wishes to destroy you in every single way imaginable and possible. She will make you suffer ten times over and then have you begging for your death.
Likes:
Feminine Attire
Books
Stationary
Crushing her enemies beneath her feet
Getting her own way
Slapping people across the face (“How you humans manage to stop yourselves from doing it more often is beyond me!”)
Breaking bones
Winning arguments
Dislikes:
Not getting her own way
Crushing her enemies between her fingers
Ruined books
People stealing her stationary
Going more than an hour without slapping someone across the face
Getting blood on her designer clothing
Power Rangers
Cats
Fears:
Losing her status
Failing to reach her aspiration
Having her mind altered unwillingly
Quirks: She clicks her tongue at her subordinates in moments of impatience, her fingers often drum on any hard surface when she is waiting, her eyes narrow when she is judging someone/something and she takes a long, deep breath when she is about to go all Iki’lek on your backside.
History: Ruth’s race is one of the dozens of alien species that are part of the conglomerate known as Galatec. It was after Galatec began spreading themselves into dozens of planets that the Iki’lek’s truly realised they were split so purely down the middle in terms of what they can do. So the Brains began to work on finding a way to create the perfect Iki’lek. They used whatever resources became available to them as Galatec spread throughout the galaxy to create the perfect hybrid of the two halves of their race.
Ruth was not the first iteration of this hybrid however. Oooh no no no, she was definitely not the first. She was the 42nd attempt and she was a complete accident, at least according to the scientists that created her. That was a long, long time ago so the specifics of it have all been compartmentalised in her mind and isn’t something she likes to dwell on too much. The experiments at that time of her life were hard and unforgiving but they allowed her to discover the powers and abilities that she has now. She was only reluctantly let go by the Iki’lek scientists when they were forced to explain what they were working on to the other alien species that also made up Galatec.
It was when she was discovered that Galatec chose to put her through various training regimens to master control over her excessive strengths and courses for business and management due to her increased intelligence. During her rigorous physical training and exhausting mental training it was discovered that Ruth had a very split personality. She was two entirely different people depending on what she was focusing on at the time. This could become a problem for Ruth if she ever completely loses control over herself. It was a stressful time for her as she worked to become the “woman” that she is now.
It was during high stress levels and the will to escape the constant work and training that Ruth discovered her ability to shapeshift. She wanted to be someone else and to get away without someone chasing after her. It took her some getting used to but she soon figured she could make herself look like anyone and anything so long as she focused on it in her mind firmly enough and essentially willed herself to be them. She took this opportunity to show Galatec she was useful for more than just her mind and muscles. They began using her to help settle new planets into their phase of “life”. As she could make herself look like one of the home planet species they figured it would be more appealing to hear from a “local” to how wonderful Galatec could be!
Galatec gave her the regional management position on New Earth the moment that they set foot on it. She has been there since the beginning and has been working hard to make everything run as smoothly as possible for Galatec.
Talents: Talking, feats if brute strength, crushing things, screwing with people’s minds via telepathy, hard worker, doesn’t give in easily, she doesn’t know when to quit in a fight.
Hindrances: Dealing with animals, running when she’s not wearing heels in human form, unable to swim, cannot deal with seriously high pitched noises.
Powers:
Shapeshifting – As far as she knows, she is the only Iki’lek hybrid in existence so she is unsure if this shapeshifting ability is due to her hybrid nature or because of the accident that caused her creation. She can change her entire appearance to anything that she wishes on an organic level but she cannot impersonate an existing person. Her appearances are always an amalgamation of features she has seen on various people/images etc.
Pain Inducement – Can induce pain, psychic torture through a mental link from about 10 feet away and the pain is much stronger when she is touching you.
Force-Field Generation – Can create telekinetic barriers to block various power attacks and physical weapons. (I won’t abuse this and will always let the GM decide whether or not the barrier does/can block attacks etc.)
Telepathy – Is able to read the minds of those around herself. She finds it easier to read the minds of those she has physical contact with but can read minds fairly well within the same room, however she is not limited to just this distance. She can read minds up to a 20 feet radius but the further the subject is to the edges of her zone, the less she can read clearly.
Psychometry – The ability to read the past of a non-sentient object through touch. She can see the past 24 hours of an object. Can get a sense for who has touched/used/been around various items/rooms.
Brute Strength – Can lift 20x her own weight
Telekinesis – Control objects with one's mind. Cannot move anything larger than a car door.
Equipment:
Power Gloves – Four that look identical but each have their own powers. (They’re pretty damn basic weapons in the grander scheme of things. But considering the powers she has, I didn’t want to go OTT.)
Heat Glove – Generates a high temperature on impact with a surface/person.
Cold Glove – Generates a low temperature on impact with a surface/person.
Vibro Glove – Causes vibrations on impact with a surface/person.
Smoke Glove – Allows a smoke cloud to be generated when a small button is pressed. Otherwise it is just an armoured glove that hits a tiny bit harder than a plain old fist.
Quotes: “Maggot.” “Take that filth out of my sight before I crush you.” “Watch. My. Lips.”
Theme Song: This. :)
Aspiration: Complete and utter domination of everything.
The setting sun beamed into the executive office space through the opened glass balcony doors. Floor to roof windows matched the doors and made the entire wall seem as though it weren’t even there. A large leather office chair sat at a magnificent mahogany desk. The chair was facing out towards the balcony that was situated right behind it.
A small, balding and fairly plump human male was standing in front of the desk, his hands wringing a very sweaty handkerchief out onto his highly polished black shoes. ”I-I… I can only apo-apolo-apologise L-l-lady Re-regional…” The man stumbled over his words as they tumbled from his mouth. The sound of drumming nails on leather came from the office chair that echoed around the now deathly silent room. The chair silently swivelled around to expose its occupant. The drumming abruptly stopped.
Ruthalia Morphento, Regional Manager of Galatec on New Earth, sat upon her throne and exuded importance without making a motion or a sound. Her hair was bundled upon her head in a sleek bun that made her face look more severe than usual. Her cherry red lips were pursed with irritation and her brow may not have showed a single frown line but there was most definitely a scowl heading towards the poor man before her.
“Apologies are for the pathetic. Are you one of the pathetic, Mr Grant? Don’t answer that.” Mr Grant gulped back his answer, his mouth hanging open until the moment that Ruth swiftly stood from her chair and began to walk around her desk. Her Jimmy Choo’s clicked on the marble flooring with each step until she stopped before the trembling form that was Mr Grant. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? Come, let us stand on the balcony.”
She did not wait for a response before she clicked her way out of the office. The balcony was rimmed with waist high, black coloured, steel edged, frosted glass fencing. The sun was low enough that the shadows of the other high rise buildings and skyscrapers were now casting shadows across the building. Mr Grant hurried behind Ruth and huffed as he reached the fence. He swallowed hard and saw how high from the ground they currently were, 55 stories from the ground.
“Let me explain what is going to happen, Mr Grant.” Hands clasped in front of Ruth as she rested them on the fence. She glanced to her right, watching Mr Grant as he puffed and panted. “You are going to pay for the mistakes you have made. You are going to thank me for this outcome and be grateful that worse didn’t happen to you.” Her entire body turned towards Mr Grant and a very sweet, unsettling smile spread across her face. ”Thank you for making this decision so easy to make, Mr Grant. I wish you all the best.”
Ruth’s right hand sprung forward and grabbed Mr Grant by the neck. He coughed and spluttered, his hands grasping at her delicate looking arm. His face began to turn red when she lifted him from the ground, his stubby legs dangled as she rose his body higher than the topmost edge of the balcony edging. ”Do enjoy your complimentary skydiving lesson, Mr Grant. Consider it part of your severance package.” One fluid swing of her arm and Mr Grant was no longer on the 55th floor. An echoing yell of despair and utter terror rang out and lessened to the smallest whisper before long.
Ruth made her way back into her office, closing the glass doors behind herself before settling behind her desk once more. A small yawn left her lips before she looked towards the door of her office. “Please send in my 4 o’clock.” Her thought rang out and the buzzer to her door rang out before the door opened to allow her next appointment to enter. A nervous, bespectacled woman shuffled in and looked around the room. There were no other exits from this office and the fear that spread over the woman’s face made Ruth’s face erupt into an ecstatic smile. “Please take a seat, Mrs Grant.” |
48,739 | 1,311 | 45 | 1,872 | 1,663 | John allowed everyone to speak their mind. He wouldn't cut off any of them, even as Jonah and Clementine's attitudes were detrimental to the overall mood he needed to set. After all, this was about gaining their trust. Besides that, Jonah made some legitimate arguments. Unfortunately circumstances were not the best, but if they were, then this wouldn't have been necessary to begin with.
As the last of the four agreed to take part, John spoke up again. "I cannot express my gratitude enough. I know that some of you are not agreeing for the same reasons, but given enough time, I think you will grow into the role. You have my... Deepest and most sincere apologies for abducting you. Looking back, the means by which we brought you here is very likely to arouse great suspicion. Knowing Ruthalia, this is likely to put your family into danger as well, which is why I took the necessary precautions."
The alien in human skin grabbed a computer disk from a small pile, five to be exact, and handed them out to the youth before him. The last he placed inside of a computer, and the view screen blared to life. This time they were watching a video of the same alien that John claimed was him. Light red skin pulled taught across a skull-like face. The suit it wore was, however, completely identical to John's in every way minus the size. It then spoke in a deep, gravelly voice.
"You know me. My name is Jonimunum Jorgenschmidtl. My laboratory exploded August 3rd last year and you have presumed me dead, just like I wanted. The truth is, I couldn't take it anymore. Galatec is corrupt to its very core and needs to be dismantled. I am singularly responsible for the formation of Division Alpha. The boy you have found this disk on, Michael Sonnen, was abducted by me and me alone to join my band of freedom fighters. He has declined. Unlike you, I don't harm people for using their freedom of choice. He decided not to join me, but he is not one of your soldiers, so no harm has come to him. That's what you call principle. He knows nothing of my operations and was brought to a location undisclosed. Interrogate him if you like, your 'reconditioning effects' will make sure he is completely cooperative. Where do we go from here? It's up to you." The video stopped there, and John ejected it.
He turned back to the group and addressed them once more. "They know me. They know that I wouldn't harm anybody I didn't consider my enemy. Each one of you now holds a message personalized about you which should protect your family and friends. If you decide to leave, it's at your disposal. If you stay, then I recommend you may still make use of it for the sake of your loved ones."
John then walked toward a collection of devices hidden in protective containers, sitting on a single pedestal. Gently, almost reverently, he pulled them up from their resting place and approached the young adults. One by one he opened the containers revealing strange wrist-bound devices, each one a different color and with a clear prismatic gem embedded in the middle. With one hand he presented these devices to each of them. First was Tommy, who received the blue one. Then Clementine was handed yellow. Oliver next received his, green. And lastly Jonah was given a violet-purple device.
"These are the photon morphers. Once they are fully secured to your arm, hold them out and call, 'Strike Force, Flash Forward!' This will trigger the morphing sequence."
The freight elevator came to a stop and the old, rusted doors creaked open to reveal the path Michael had taken here. It somehow looked different going back the other way, but maybe that was just his new outlook. What he was prepared to do, about to do, would definitely change how a man looks at things. His thoughts were interrupted when the woman stepped forward, then turned to address the rebels that had arrived with them.
"Today we cripple Galatec's hold on us! Today we free as many as we can, and kill all the damn githkin our weapons will allow! Today is the day Galatec realizes that humanity are not rats to be forced through the maze! Today we strike back! CHARGE!" Battle cries sounded throughout the mines, no doubt echoing for at least a couple miles as so many cheered at once. The ragtag rebels poured through the mines, pushing Michael along with them whether he wanted to go or not. While it took several minutes, it felt like only moments before the sounds of battle could be heard and seen all around. Rebels attacked with pick-axes, ancient firearms, baseball bats, and what few laser blasters they could scrounge up. Meanwhile the githkin fought back ferociously with sheer brute strength, superior numbers, and advanced weapons of their own.
Red Rock Mining Facility had become a war zone. The rebellion has begun.
There John went again, pontificating and speechifying. Well, that was his job. His role in all of this. Thankfully Samara was at her computer keeping tabs on things, because something major had just happened. Just as John began handing out the morphers, her proximity detectors went off like crazy and multiple waves of several dozen people began emerging from the deepest, oldest portions of the mine. The security cameras no longer depicted a harsh-yet-peaceful work zone. Now it was all chaos and fighting. What's more, now she got a bead, finally, on Michael Sonnen. He was emerging into the central mining chamber and if what she saw on those cameras were any indication he was with the rebel forces and wielding an old combustion pistol.
The male assistant shivered at Ruth's touch. One didn't need to be a telepath to know that he found the interaction to be quite creepy and uncomfortable. It did little to ease the apprehension he had developed for her. Meanwhile, Foreman Jo'ones showed himself to still be quite the fighter, and quite resourceful, despite being so battered.
"I appreciate it, ma'am," he grunted back to her from his strange position being carried. Then, fighting through the pain of his two broken arms, he reached over to his left limb and took hold of it just below the shoulder. With a large gasp and mustering all his strength Jo'ones tore off his own left arm and dropped it onto the floor. Curiously, no blood spilled from this wound. A moment later though, and his left arm was already growing a replacement. In less time than it would have taken to eat a donut he had grown a fully functional left arm. With far less difficulty, he did the same with his broken right arm, tearing it off with his new good limb, and letting it grow back.
"If you want a new handbag ma'am, I think I can donate you the materials," he commented. It wasn't sarcasm, nor did he have any insolence in his voice. Even a quick mind probe would tell Ruth that he was entirely sincere.
Elsewhere, a group of githkin, lead by the elite KT-25, were accosting accounting director Shplorn at her dormitory door. The alien woman opened up the door, then asked, "The regional manager wants to see me? Personally? Then I'd better get my good suit on. Please, give me a moment, dearies."
In that instant, Ruth could feel another presence in the minds of the githkin. Someone else was trying to take advantage of the psychic link they were designed with, but only high-ranking member of the company could use it. Only one person fit the bill, and that one person was staring KT-25 in the fac-
"Ma'am, General, emergency situation! You need to see this now!" cried out the male assistant that found Ruth so off-putting. If there were ever something to pull her concentration away, it would be this. They displayed multiple security cameras on screen of various locations all around the mining facility, and each one showed something that was simply unacceptable. Ruth's information that Division Alpha would be attacking was entirely accurate. Rebels clad in scavenged armor and clothes, wielding weapons ranging from blunt instruments to guns to the occasional laser blaster, scurried up from the depths of the mine. They seemed to be dispersing in waves of about 2-3 dozen, and had already worked their way to the central chamber. According to the cameras, a team was heading directly for the foreman's office where she now stood, while another headed for the supervisor dormitories, and yet another team was fighting its way to the vehicle station.
The githkin didn't move a muscle as Mable spoke to it. It barely moved when she took the pen and book from it, and even then only what was absolutely necessary for her to take the objects from it. Once she opened the pages and began to sign it, however, something caught her eyes. Something strange, and definitely unexpected from a githkin of all things.
Today Red Rock falls.
In that time, Gajoon had noticed that Mable had stopped listening to him (if she had been to begin with) and saw the creature that greeted her at the door.
"Miss Love! Sir, uh, peacekeeper, er, uh," he stammered, sliding in next to the two of them. "How can we-we, uh, help you, Mr..." he eyed the branding on the githkin's chest, showcasing its serial number. "Mr. 18-XY?"
The githkin did not react to Gajoon's presence. It only continued to stare at Mable, showing no emotion.
"Oh yeah, we've seen. You're doing a marvelous job!" exclaimed the bun-haired twin while her sister nodded. "We're some of your spotters. You know, keeping an eye out for any signs of ores and minerals behind your path. It's really hard to keep up with yo-"
She was cut off by the sound of another bell, this one signalling that break time was over. Welp, back to work! | Name:
Jackson Trent
Nickname/Alias:
Jack, sex on a stick (imo).
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
. |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.
Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills.
Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
The Power Rangers
White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
Protecting people
The greater good
Dislikes:
Galatec
His job
Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control
His parents being under Galatec’s influence
Fears:
Slipping back under Galatec’s control
Not being able to find the Power Rangers
Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
Dying on the job
Quirks:
He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?
History:
Freedom.
That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.
Until the Power Rangers.
At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”.
That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
Animalistic instincts & reflexes
Can see multiple approaches to a problem
Agile on his feet
A linear understanding of science
Apparently quite the singer
Hindrances:
His perpetual mood swings
He always sees the good in people
Can sometimes be quick to judge
Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people
Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
An old mining torch
A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
10 shirts
4 pairs of jeans
A pair of combat boots
A pair of old sneakers
An old scarf
A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
7 bottles of water
A sleeping bag
9 MRE kits
Quotes:
“Cross your fingers.”
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into. |
48,740 | 1,311 | 46 | 2,250 | 2,211 | Clementine had found the understanding that Samara was looking for, while Oliver on the other hand seemed as lax about things as Tommy was. She may have stepped away to locate the missing piece to this incomplete team, but her ears were still perked to listen to what was going on behind her.
John had continued with his gratitude being fully expressed, but when his video had been played she had intensified her search for Michael. Adjusting settings, placing focus on more populated areas within the mines, and even the classic solution of turning the ground-penetrating radar system off and on again. Nothing had worked. She had returned to the settings that were previously used to locate the other four, and watched the sonar pulsations travel through the facility as a whole. Quite suddenly, the radar had picked up new signals, dozens upon dozens of them, with one in the middle being surrounded by a hue like the last four. A red one.
“Michael,” Samara whispered quietly with a smile. As she was about to tell John the good news, the monitor had flashed twice with a warning of how many new signals were picked up, erasing her smile. It was always set to alert John and herself when they had picked up many new signals at once. This was more than just a dozen—there had to be at least several dozen of them, all approaching the central mining chamber. It wouldn’t have been as odd—but still odd—if the signals were moving at as normal a pace as all the others, but the speed at which they were racing towards that chamber wasn’t typically that of other miners. “Why are you running?”
Not just him. They were all running. The headquarters for the Strike Force may have been a safe distance away from the area in which Galatec’s slaves had dug for hours on end, but they could have felt some sort of seismic disturbance. It couldn’t have been a cave collapsing or some other danger.
Samara’s hands raced across several keys in quick succession, finding the camera nearest the chamber they were approaching. Choosing the most appropriate, she had laid her eyes on a brutal conflict between humans armed with significantly outdated weaponry striking against the Githkin that monitored the miners. The hue of red that surrounded Michael had allowed her to find him within that mess. He had enough sense to arm himself before joining this attack. It appeared that the rebels facing Galatec on their own had managed to find him first. Or maybe he had sought them out on his own and convinced them to let him fight. None of it mattered anymore.
“John!” Samara shouted, targeting Michael with the RDS on another window beside the camera displaying the ensuing conflict. He was reachable, but the power needed to grab the first four had made it impossible to bring him here through the same means as the others. She dare not try it as is and waste what precious power it still had left. “This just became a rescue mission. The rebels have attacked the facility and it isn’t looking good!”
The Githkin had the weaponry and the numbers to put down this attack if their forces weren’t bolstered. Michael, without the morpher they had fixed for him, was as good as captured or dead without immediate intervention. Samara was beginning to sweat once more, her heart pumping at the fear of losing Michael like this. Quickly measuring the remaining power they had left, she concluded that there was just enough remaining to send a small object, one that was morpher-sized.
“We don’t have enough power with our current processing unit in the RDS to bring Red to us. He’s either as good as dead or as good as captured—unless you four get there, that is!”
Samara did not have time to make eye contact just yet. Her fingers pounded at the console keys before her. One of the metal doors, one closest to the conflict in the central mining chamber, had opened nearby. It went without saying that without the power to transport them into the action quickly, they would need to race there on foot. While that was happening, she had worked to find the best entry points to transport Michael’s Photon Morpher when his safety was guaranteed, and only when it was. John had gone through a lot to secure them, and so she could not risk Michael receiving this device only to not understand its purpose or what it could do for him. Faith had to be placed in Clementine, Tommy, Oliver, and Jonah to not only protect Michael, but guide him in the process.
She returned to the camera focusing on the battle and opened tabs from cameras at different angles. The camera in the best position to track Michael was the largest. “Michael Sonnen is our chosen Red Ranger, and he is going to be your ally. Gorgeous hazel eyes, low cut, thick brows, distinct scar by his nose and right eye—the video feed is a good reference, too.” It struck her that describing Michael was not entirely necessary, as she had already put him as the largest window on her large monitor. She was thinking much too quickly to care.
At last she had left the console, turning around and darting for the remaining morpher that John had left alone. Taking Michael’s morpher in hand, she had moved to place it on the platform the others had arrived in and set it down with care, still in its protective casing. “I’ll look for a window to get this to him but one of you will need to get him up to speed,” she said. Samara sped towards her computer again, hands returning to the consoles. The morpher on the platform was now targeted by the RDS. “Tell him we’re sorry we didn’t get to him sooner. You four are his only chance right now. No pressure!”
Nearly breathless, Samara turned around and raced back over to John, placing a hand on his shoulder. “New processing unit—now. Tell me you have something up your sleeve—“the four had caught her eye, stopping her in her verbal tracks. They were still here. Why were they still here?
“It’s now or never, guys. Save Michael—save everyone you can!” She said urgently. “Flash forward!” | Samara Morgan
Name - Samara Morgan
Nickname/Alias - N/A
Race - Human
Age - 23
Ethnicity - African-American
Gender - Female
Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis.
Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend.
In The Mind
Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends.
She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest.
However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood.
Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right.
Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously.
Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames.
Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her.
Where They’ve Been
History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background.
One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed.
It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold.
It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking.
The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way.
Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising.
Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture.
Powers - N/A
Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone.
Bonus Round
Quotes - No.
Theme Song - Never.
Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary. |
48,741 | 1,311 | 47 | 1,966 | 2,601 | Michael Sonnen
The aged doors moaned open and before him was a blazed but alien path. Where once it was an unknown mystery, now it was a nightmarish, bleak, door to his death. He could feel his fear cracking the walls that cornered it in his heart, the minute fissures that marked the end if he couldn't reign it in.
He steeled the quivering in his taunt arms.
Once the woman had begun her speech, like so many of the rebels around him, he looked for hope in her words. Unlike them, he found none. Some piece of him knew that Courtney's death would drive him to his own, that the guilt he felt was so strong that it'd pull him into Galatec's spectral grip. Michael lowered his head absently, a weak smile pulled his lips.
We're going to die one way or another. They think they can pull a small attack on one of Galatec's premiere mining sites and win... He chuckled shortly, a defeated smile hidden on his face. It reminds me of an ancient saying my dad use to quote; how does it go? Oh yea... "Like lambs to the slaughter."
Still, he had willingly become apart of the lambs' herd. He had no regrets about it when he truly thought about it, only a fiery ambition to rid himself of his unforgiving contentment. Once the cries of the rebels took root in the tunnels, Michael rushed forward with them. He eye'd the scattered remains of the equipment he had brought in with him, it roused a question in him that he had foolishly forgotten.
He came to a stop amongst the chaos, not too deep in but close enough to feel the heat of the flames they were attempting to douse with rebellious fevor. The sound of high-tech ammunition sizzled around him, loud bangs threatened to hurt his ears. He found cover in the form of a metal wagon. He grip the material over his chest and calmed his now thrumming heart.
"This is Galatec's true face!" he snarled with a shaky calm.
When he noticed a Githkin around the cover of his wagon, he raised the ancient arm given to him and pulled the trigger with an unusual amount of power in the action.
Let's see if you die like we do. With smiles on your faces. | Name: Michael Sonnen.
Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother).
Race: Human.
Age: 20.
Ethnicity: African American.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye.
Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences.
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In The Mind
Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious.
Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions.
Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal.
Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different.
Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs.
Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined.
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Where They’ve Been
History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think,
This isn't right...
Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought.
Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off.
His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered.
"Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-"
It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself.
Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often.
Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it?
Powers: None.
Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner.
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Bonus Round
Quotes: "We fight for today!"
Theme Song: Throne
Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Red
Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung.
Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently.
Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets.
Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes.
Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty.
"Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you."
She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that.
By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic.
His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on.
Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening.
Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns.
"Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself. |
48,742 | 1,311 | 48 | 427 | 1,112 | with: Drax , Foreman Jo'ones, XJ-47, the Assistants, Githkins
What Foreman Jo’ones had decided to do to himself was both disgusting and impressive. Perhaps she had been a little too emotional this morning. Although the Foreman had been ungrateful perhaps this offering of his limbs for her handbag would be a way to start with a “clean” slate. The genuine answer had surprised her but she was glad. Her instincts had been correct. This one would be useful just perhaps not in the way that she had originally intended.
“Thank you for your offer, Foreman Jo’ones. I do hope that you’ve learned your lesson and that you will be more grateful towards Galatec for all that we have provided you.” She gave him a wink and smug smile, hoping that Drax’s beating would not have driven their unspoken interaction this morning out of his mind. She had no doubt he would remember her ordering his death but hopefully he would recall what he had been thinking that would have caused his fate.
She supervised the interaction between KT-25 and Shplorn but proverbial shit hit the proverbial fan. She could feel the other presence and she knew that she had to get Shplorn captured and in her presence but she couldn’t co-ordinate with the attacks and keep control on the Githkin gathering Shplorn. She let her connection break free from all the Githkin except for KT-25. “Resist her with all that you have, I give you permission to deny her requests. Fight as much as you can and bring her to me." She let the link go and then turned to Drax. “General Drax! Go directly to the private quarters of Accounting Director Shplorn and bring her to me at once. I will not accept failure as an option. Bring her to me now.” Her eyes narrowed and her fingers twitched as she drummed them on her thighs. Her patience was gone. Completely and utterly gone.
She turned to the two assistants and glared. “Get those orders sent out that I require now. I need those family members rounded up and that surveillance set up fifteen minutes ago. Move.” She turned away from the assistants and looked to Foreman Jo’ones. “Soldier, it is time to show your mettle. I require you to go to the vehicle station and ensure that these rebels gain no access to any of the vehicles. I will deal with the group heading to this office.” Ruth then looked to the Elite Githkin that had give its report to her moments before. “XJ-47, go with Foreman Jo’ones and ensure he is armed and armoured as best as we can in the time given. Do not let them take any of the vehicles. Take as many Githkin as you need that you find along the way.”
She was not about to let these maggots take advantage of the chaos. Her mind would remain focused and once she had dealt with the group heading towards her location, she would deal with Shplorn. That is if Drax didn’t fail in his objective. She turned one last time to Drax and smiled. “Feel free to break through walls and floors where necessary to get to Shplorn. Bring her here when you have her and defend this position only once you have found her. Now go! She dismissed her General and sent the rest of them off to do her bidding. Her hands twitched again as she made her way to stand between the two assistants. Her hands rose up and slapped them both upside the back of the head, not quite as ferociously as she would normally do but enough to keep her sated until the rebel group found their way here. She didn’t want to lose focus just because she was suffering from withdrawals; that would just be silly.
She casually turned away after hitting them and made her way to sit behind the desk of Foreman Jo’ones, the controller for the viewing screen in her hand as she waited patiently, with anger clear on her face. She crossed her legs and let one bounce comfortably up and down, her eyes remaining on the screen watching the rebel forces. Her mental link spread out to all the Githkin that could hear. “The Rebels are attacking. Gather your weapons and armour and fend them off. The Vehicle Station, Supervisor Quarters and Central Chamber are of the utmost importance. Failure is not an option. Retain a small guard on all humans that I have had you gathered, the rebels are the main priority for now unless I have directly told you otherwise. NOW MOVE IT.” This was going to be a long day. | Name: Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento
Nickname/Alias: Ruth, ThinkTank, Lady Regional, RM
Race: Iki'lek
Age: I’ve lived more years than you could possibly ever count, maggot.
Ethnicity: Iki'lek Hybrid
Gender: Gender is such a primitive thing, but I do have a fondness for the feminine attire your world has. So let’s go with female, for now.
Appearance: Ruth has two main appearances that you will see. Her public face is one that you want to give attention to yet makes you feel the need to divert your gaze at the same time as it draws you in. She opts for pale skin, sprinkled with freckles over its entirety. Her body stretches out to a modest 5’8” without the enhancements of high heels. (“These spectacular extensions for your lower appendages are absolutely marvellous!”) Her body type is that of womanly but well taken care of. When you can have any human body that you choose, why wouldn’t you give yourself what you feel is the most desirable body available?
Her eyes are generally a dark hazel shade with a very prominent black halo around the iris. Her golden, copper brown hair reaches just below her shoulders and is generally styled in some manner befitting those in the Business profession on Earth. She is a fan of feminine make-up products and has become very proficient in applying it to her face and nails. She has a mass array of different colours that suit her preferred skin tone and hair colour.
The second, and most natural, of Ruth’s appearances is not a common sight. Her race has skin that is silvery grey in colour that has a shimmering light to it. Her torso closely resembles that of a human in the sense that it holds the appendages and head together and contains almost all the vital organs. There are not just four appendages, there are fourteen. She has four arms, two at the same area as human arms and then a secondary pair sitting beneath those, protruding from the torso sides. The arms are very similar to human arms but are slightly longer, and there are six fingers on each hand with a thumb making it seven total. He does not have legs or feet, instead she has ten tendrils (see what I did there? I’m so funny…) much like an octopus or squid would have but these are full of muscle and allow her to move at high speeds and very erratically.
Her head is slightly more difficult to describe. If you imagine a generic Martian to a human you think of a bulbous upper head, longer chin area and giant, black, and bulbous eyes that are almost as big as the entire head. Well the bulbous upper half is similar to what Iki’lek heads look like. It reaches further out to the back of the cranium though, but not by much. The lower face is longer and more drawn out than a human but not quite as much as a Martian face. Both halves of the race have no nose, instead they have slits much like a snake would. The Brawn half have a large, gaping maw that allows them to bite their targets and to yell out of. The Brain half have no mouth as they communicate telepathically. For Ruth, as she is a hybrid, does not look quite like the two single halves of the Iki’lek race.
The Brawn half have smaller, more protruding eyes that face forward and have near tunnel vision while the Brain half have larger and less centralised eyes that rest closer to the sides of the skull to allow them to have a far wider range of vision. Ruth, however, has larger bulbous eyes that are slightly to the sides while still allowing her to see forward only if she so wishes thanks to her secondary set of eyelids which she can use as blinders. Her eyes aren’t black however, they are a deep, dark purple colour and her mouth is not quite as large as her Brawny brethren. She could bite onto you but probably wouldn’t be able to swallow your entire head like they could.
The final noteworthy marking of her alien appearance is that of the markings across her entire body. Her head, face, neck and spinal cord (at least what you can see of it) have sky blue markings, like that of a calligraphy pen being dragged across a piece of paper to create weaving lines that crossover and connect like a fluid tapestry. The rest of her body that you could see (basically just her arms at this point) are covered in disjointed and jagged looking maroon coloured markings. They are erratic and seem to have no pattern to them at all. Both of these markings look almost as though they are not actually on the skin, almost like they are floating on the surface of water and are in constant motion. This race has no hair on their body and, their tendrils stretched out fully, stand at around 6’5” in length from head to… toe?
Clothing: When in human form, Ruth can be found in a variety of business attire. Be it knee length pencil skirts with fitted blouses and a blazer, or perhaps she felt summery and is merely wearing an A-line skirt with a short sleeved gypsy top with a light jacket? She wears a large variety of clothing as she is so in love with it. She can also be seen in dresses, trousers, suits, shorts; basically everything at one point or another. She also will always be in high heels. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. She will be wearing them even when she’s kicking your ass.
When she is not in her human form, Ruth’s alien body is covered in an extremely durable, high density but lightweight battle suit. It covers her entire torso and chest area but leaves her arms exposed from the shoulder areas down. Her tendrils are entirely covered and the material has strong grippers within the material that allow her to walk on any solid surface. Her hands, all four of them, wear different gloves with varying abilities which will be outlined later. The material is a light silvery grey shimmering material that closely resembles the natural skin tone so it almost looks as if she is wearing nothing and that her markings stop at her shoulders and neck area.
Personality: Ruth is a very, very, very complex individual who is, technically, not actually an individual. Her core personality is strong, cool-headed, independent, manipulative, coercive, quick thinking, highly frickin' intelligent, tactical, charismatic and determined. She is one force of a woman and if you should find yourself in her path? Be prepared to be knocked the hell down and flattened beneath her immense force of presence. She is not a person to be trifled with and she has the capability to make your life, quite literally, a living hell should she deem it productive for her needs and wants. This is the Brainy variant that you will most commonly hear about when people talk about the Regional Manager.
However, there is more than meets the eye with Ruth and it is because of this special trait of hers that she keeps her true face away from the public. She prefers to do her dealings with people from a distance but when left with no other alternative, she will get her hands dirty. This is where the rest of Ruth’s mind comes out to play. She suffers from having a divided mind and as such she has a second personality that brings out the brawn in our villainous Regional Manager.
This side of her has the ability to have a very murderous streak and I do mean that literally. If you threaten her or really push her to the brink of her patience and piss her off? Say hello to the afterlife or whatever the hell it is you believe in because you can be fairly certain you will never see this world again. (Unless the glorious leader GM decides that you get to live. Spoil sport.) It is an emotionally unstable personality that can sometimes find it difficult to be reasonable. When in this state of mind, Ruth is very one track minded in the sense that she wishes to destroy you in every single way imaginable and possible. She will make you suffer ten times over and then have you begging for your death.
Likes:
Feminine Attire
Books
Stationary
Crushing her enemies beneath her feet
Getting her own way
Slapping people across the face (“How you humans manage to stop yourselves from doing it more often is beyond me!”)
Breaking bones
Winning arguments
Dislikes:
Not getting her own way
Crushing her enemies between her fingers
Ruined books
People stealing her stationary
Going more than an hour without slapping someone across the face
Getting blood on her designer clothing
Power Rangers
Cats
Fears:
Losing her status
Failing to reach her aspiration
Having her mind altered unwillingly
Quirks: She clicks her tongue at her subordinates in moments of impatience, her fingers often drum on any hard surface when she is waiting, her eyes narrow when she is judging someone/something and she takes a long, deep breath when she is about to go all Iki’lek on your backside.
History: Ruth’s race is one of the dozens of alien species that are part of the conglomerate known as Galatec. It was after Galatec began spreading themselves into dozens of planets that the Iki’lek’s truly realised they were split so purely down the middle in terms of what they can do. So the Brains began to work on finding a way to create the perfect Iki’lek. They used whatever resources became available to them as Galatec spread throughout the galaxy to create the perfect hybrid of the two halves of their race.
Ruth was not the first iteration of this hybrid however. Oooh no no no, she was definitely not the first. She was the 42nd attempt and she was a complete accident, at least according to the scientists that created her. That was a long, long time ago so the specifics of it have all been compartmentalised in her mind and isn’t something she likes to dwell on too much. The experiments at that time of her life were hard and unforgiving but they allowed her to discover the powers and abilities that she has now. She was only reluctantly let go by the Iki’lek scientists when they were forced to explain what they were working on to the other alien species that also made up Galatec.
It was when she was discovered that Galatec chose to put her through various training regimens to master control over her excessive strengths and courses for business and management due to her increased intelligence. During her rigorous physical training and exhausting mental training it was discovered that Ruth had a very split personality. She was two entirely different people depending on what she was focusing on at the time. This could become a problem for Ruth if she ever completely loses control over herself. It was a stressful time for her as she worked to become the “woman” that she is now.
It was during high stress levels and the will to escape the constant work and training that Ruth discovered her ability to shapeshift. She wanted to be someone else and to get away without someone chasing after her. It took her some getting used to but she soon figured she could make herself look like anyone and anything so long as she focused on it in her mind firmly enough and essentially willed herself to be them. She took this opportunity to show Galatec she was useful for more than just her mind and muscles. They began using her to help settle new planets into their phase of “life”. As she could make herself look like one of the home planet species they figured it would be more appealing to hear from a “local” to how wonderful Galatec could be!
Galatec gave her the regional management position on New Earth the moment that they set foot on it. She has been there since the beginning and has been working hard to make everything run as smoothly as possible for Galatec.
Talents: Talking, feats if brute strength, crushing things, screwing with people’s minds via telepathy, hard worker, doesn’t give in easily, she doesn’t know when to quit in a fight.
Hindrances: Dealing with animals, running when she’s not wearing heels in human form, unable to swim, cannot deal with seriously high pitched noises.
Powers:
Shapeshifting – As far as she knows, she is the only Iki’lek hybrid in existence so she is unsure if this shapeshifting ability is due to her hybrid nature or because of the accident that caused her creation. She can change her entire appearance to anything that she wishes on an organic level but she cannot impersonate an existing person. Her appearances are always an amalgamation of features she has seen on various people/images etc.
Pain Inducement – Can induce pain, psychic torture through a mental link from about 10 feet away and the pain is much stronger when she is touching you.
Force-Field Generation – Can create telekinetic barriers to block various power attacks and physical weapons. (I won’t abuse this and will always let the GM decide whether or not the barrier does/can block attacks etc.)
Telepathy – Is able to read the minds of those around herself. She finds it easier to read the minds of those she has physical contact with but can read minds fairly well within the same room, however she is not limited to just this distance. She can read minds up to a 20 feet radius but the further the subject is to the edges of her zone, the less she can read clearly.
Psychometry – The ability to read the past of a non-sentient object through touch. She can see the past 24 hours of an object. Can get a sense for who has touched/used/been around various items/rooms.
Brute Strength – Can lift 20x her own weight
Telekinesis – Control objects with one's mind. Cannot move anything larger than a car door.
Equipment:
Power Gloves – Four that look identical but each have their own powers. (They’re pretty damn basic weapons in the grander scheme of things. But considering the powers she has, I didn’t want to go OTT.)
Heat Glove – Generates a high temperature on impact with a surface/person.
Cold Glove – Generates a low temperature on impact with a surface/person.
Vibro Glove – Causes vibrations on impact with a surface/person.
Smoke Glove – Allows a smoke cloud to be generated when a small button is pressed. Otherwise it is just an armoured glove that hits a tiny bit harder than a plain old fist.
Quotes: “Maggot.” “Take that filth out of my sight before I crush you.” “Watch. My. Lips.”
Theme Song: This. :)
Aspiration: Complete and utter domination of everything.
The setting sun beamed into the executive office space through the opened glass balcony doors. Floor to roof windows matched the doors and made the entire wall seem as though it weren’t even there. A large leather office chair sat at a magnificent mahogany desk. The chair was facing out towards the balcony that was situated right behind it.
A small, balding and fairly plump human male was standing in front of the desk, his hands wringing a very sweaty handkerchief out onto his highly polished black shoes. ”I-I… I can only apo-apolo-apologise L-l-lady Re-regional…” The man stumbled over his words as they tumbled from his mouth. The sound of drumming nails on leather came from the office chair that echoed around the now deathly silent room. The chair silently swivelled around to expose its occupant. The drumming abruptly stopped.
Ruthalia Morphento, Regional Manager of Galatec on New Earth, sat upon her throne and exuded importance without making a motion or a sound. Her hair was bundled upon her head in a sleek bun that made her face look more severe than usual. Her cherry red lips were pursed with irritation and her brow may not have showed a single frown line but there was most definitely a scowl heading towards the poor man before her.
“Apologies are for the pathetic. Are you one of the pathetic, Mr Grant? Don’t answer that.” Mr Grant gulped back his answer, his mouth hanging open until the moment that Ruth swiftly stood from her chair and began to walk around her desk. Her Jimmy Choo’s clicked on the marble flooring with each step until she stopped before the trembling form that was Mr Grant. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? Come, let us stand on the balcony.”
She did not wait for a response before she clicked her way out of the office. The balcony was rimmed with waist high, black coloured, steel edged, frosted glass fencing. The sun was low enough that the shadows of the other high rise buildings and skyscrapers were now casting shadows across the building. Mr Grant hurried behind Ruth and huffed as he reached the fence. He swallowed hard and saw how high from the ground they currently were, 55 stories from the ground.
“Let me explain what is going to happen, Mr Grant.” Hands clasped in front of Ruth as she rested them on the fence. She glanced to her right, watching Mr Grant as he puffed and panted. “You are going to pay for the mistakes you have made. You are going to thank me for this outcome and be grateful that worse didn’t happen to you.” Her entire body turned towards Mr Grant and a very sweet, unsettling smile spread across her face. ”Thank you for making this decision so easy to make, Mr Grant. I wish you all the best.”
Ruth’s right hand sprung forward and grabbed Mr Grant by the neck. He coughed and spluttered, his hands grasping at her delicate looking arm. His face began to turn red when she lifted him from the ground, his stubby legs dangled as she rose his body higher than the topmost edge of the balcony edging. ”Do enjoy your complimentary skydiving lesson, Mr Grant. Consider it part of your severance package.” One fluid swing of her arm and Mr Grant was no longer on the 55th floor. An echoing yell of despair and utter terror rang out and lessened to the smallest whisper before long.
Ruth made her way back into her office, closing the glass doors behind herself before settling behind her desk once more. A small yawn left her lips before she looked towards the door of her office. “Please send in my 4 o’clock.” Her thought rang out and the buzzer to her door rang out before the door opened to allow her next appointment to enter. A nervous, bespectacled woman shuffled in and looked around the room. There were no other exits from this office and the fear that spread over the woman’s face made Ruth’s face erupt into an ecstatic smile. “Please take a seat, Mrs Grant.” |
48,743 | 1,311 | 49 | 1,285 | 468 | Well fuck
Here he was with a thing on his wrist that could very well kill him instantly though he doubted that was the case. This was too elaborate for a murder. Besides, their apparent mentor had proven, to a degree, that he wasn't as dense as Jonah had immediately thought he was.
Jumping to conclusions was always something Jonah had attempted to avoid in the past, presumptions created errors and wasted amounts of time. He never thought his two captors weren't intelligent, he had simply questioned their way of going about things and their motivations. He had thought them naive and he had been wrong on that front, at least concerning their ideas for a backup plan.
But that wasn't what he needed to focus on, there was an issue that took precedence. Whatever he thought of the current group of individuals he was now stuck with, the fact remained that his new mission required a certain level of support and with the reasons for his position totally unknown to the blond, Michael could potentially prove invaluable. Jonah would have to save him, and probably Lillian, from the rebel's suicide attack.
He looked down at his wrist…
And it would take him saying a ridiculous phrase to get it started.
“Okay, me first…”
And then it started..
“Strike Force,” He raised his wrist, the purple stone shining brilliantly,
“Flash forward!”
The world fell away as his ranger form appeared in a gathering of pixels and light. He stepped forward and the image did the same, shattering upon collision to reveal Jonah suited in armor.
As his eyes began to shift through a myriad of colors, particles of light swarmed around his head, dispersing to reveal his helmet in a final flash of violet light.
“Whoa….” Jonah looked at his hands, flexing his fingers as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
He felt…...strong!
Really strong!
I mean, he had always felt capable but this felt different. He felt as though he were lighter despite having heavy armaments encasing his body.
He turned to the others, his sharp eyed stare shooting through his helmet.
“Well, you waiting for an invitation?” | Name: Jonah Fallen
Nickname/Alias: No
Race: Human
Age: 21
Ethnicity: East German on his mother's side, Russian on his father's side. He's also part polish and 1/15th Indian(not Native American) from his great grandmother.
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Jonah is a light skinned male standing at 6'1 with toned muscles from working and his training. He has dirty blonde hair that he likes to keep short and sweet blue eyes that are usually seen sharpening at things he finds annoying. Along with those penetrating blues, he wears a set of thick rimmed glasses and keeps a small “glasses cleaning kit” in his pocket when ever maintenance is required. Despite working out daily, he appears as an average looking young man when wearing long sleeves since he focuses more on toning his muscles rather than having huge ones. His slightly chiseled features are smooth but he has some hair on his stomach.
Clothing: He likes to keep things simple so he'll often be seen in a plain shirt and some jeans, he doesn't lean towards one color over the rest but is often seen in black or blue since his mother used to tell him it fit him best. He prefers short sleeved shirts and long pants but will change that up if it becomes uncomfortable to move in. For that same reason, he often sports sneakers as they are easy to move around in.
In The Mind
Personality: Jonah has an independent personality, he strives to be the best he can be because that's all he knows how to be. He keeps a cool head under pressure and always does his best to figure out the best solution to the problem at hand. He doesn't believe in good or evil, stating that all things are objectively of the same value. Often quiet unless spoken to, Jonah keeps an air of contemplation about himself and makes a note to distance himself from others so that they don't become a liability. While this method can supply an incredibly sturdy strength, Jonah's logical outlook can at times give way to his inter turmoils.
See, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he is not always as cool as he thinks he is. While strong and independent, Jonah's attempts at apathy hides the fact that he does care about the people around him. His emotions are often the one thing he believes holds him back but they often supply more to his motives than he'll let on. Never to show fear, never to admit defeat, Jonah's logical thoughts can turn to mush when faced with having to deal with some of his inner-demons.
Likes: Books that make you think about things. Silence.
Dislikes: Stupid people. Self righteousness.
Fears: That his rationality is just cowardice, that he's simply avoiding his greater emotions and is a hypocrite for telling people to not be controlled by them when he's letting them force him to flee from himself.
Quirks: He loves to read, mainly books on philosophy which can sometimes overlap with books on strategy though most books on the art of war were destroyed. When upset or feeling unhinged, he'll take to cleaning his glasses to regain a form of control over his person.
Where They’ve Been
History: Jonah grew up in a small apartment in a not-so-friendly part of the city. It wasn't perfect but he had what he needed. His parents, on the other hand, were not quite as okay with their arrangement as he was. Starting from the womb, his parents pressured him to be the golden-child that would sky rocket them to the big times!
Whether it was mathematics or sports, Jonah was told that he had to succeed to make life worth living for his family. He followed every rule but still slipped up, receiving negative reinforcement when he did so. But, eventually, he began to catch his stride. He started winning soccer games and getting A's on his tests and suddenly the negative reinforcement stopped. He was happy, his parents were happy, everything was better.
Until he started hating his activities, started getting tired of waking up and never doing the things he wanted. At first, he hated this turning in his stomach because he loved his parents but he still couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him so mad at them some times.
He didn't have friends to talk to so he sought knowledge in his books. The library was a short walk from his home so he'd spend as much time as he could just reading.
He had a love for philosophy and thinking and used ideals he learned to come to the conclusion that what was happening to him wasn't a bad thing, it was just a “thing” and that him giving way to subjective beliefs was what was causing him problems internally. Eventually he began to distance himself from his parents until he didn't see them as his parents anymore, he saw them as just another problem. By the time he was ten years old, he had developed a form of detached apathy, a learned behavior he adopted to keep his emotions in check. Suddenly, he didn't smile as much. He didn't laugh at all and he didn't speak quite as much as he used to. He was only a child but he got better at rationalizing with age and by the time Galatec seized complete control, he was already stead-fast in his thought process.
Besides, honestly, life didn't really change when they arrived, not for him any way. His parents went to work and left him with his books, though the material was now more about how to serve the greater good than anything else. They confiscated his other books on philosophical thinking and mathematics, apparently those were “dangerous books that brought about dangerous thoughts”. He grew up in that situation, unaware of how much the world was going to continue to change.
Time went on, and just as he thought, people began to cope with the change. It had been years, and like all things that occur, what was once “horrible tragedy” became “yesterday”. Life was in a constant state of flux and he wouldn't let such a fact break his concentration.
His mother, now a widow after the passing of her late-husband, pushed Jonah to make a name for himself in the new society, she saw that he was different than everyone else now and thought she could bank on it. Jonah agreed because he didn't want to be thought of as expendable, besides, working hard was how he made it through life, keeping his center is how he survived. He had to keep a rational mind and continue moving forward.
And that's exactly what he did.
He began working as soon as possible, Galatec didn't care about age so long as their workers knew what they were doing. Eventually, he stood out and worked his way up, volunteering for the riskier parts of the job until he was being looked at by the higher ups. He refused to sit idle, not for honor or pride but because he knew that he only got one chance at life, knew what it meant to waste time and effort.
Through it all, he kept his composure. He rationalized everything he saw, closed his eyes and reminded himself about the philosophies he put his trust in because that's all he had to stand by. Maybe he had problems with the blank eyes of some of the other workers, maybe he would be up at night, trying to see why his own eyes still flickered with life, maybe he wondered about the girl he once saw with the same eyes as him. But that didn't matter, work mattered, staying alive mattered. “You don't get second chances at life.” He reminded himself on those nights. “Galatec is in control, there is nothing you can do, don't be illogical, keep yourself centered...” Like that, every day. “What is is, and what is not is not.” They were truths, he could rely on truths. He just couldn't stand with them in his entirety. After all, he was still human.
When the opportunity arose, Jonah volunteered for bodyguard duty, knowing that it meant he'd be given martial training and hoping it would supply a better standing for himself and, by extension, his mother. He was healthy enough, had a strong build from staying fit so he didn't have much trouble being selected. His training went by pretty easily as he took rather well to punching things into submission, perhaps due to some seriously repressed rage?
Whose to say?
After the initial adrenaline of letting loose for the first time wore off, he began practicing more at home, honing his reflexes as best he could. While not a god of the martial arts, he was able to prove himself worthy enough to stand guard for some big shots in the corporation. It didn't involve much, just watching and waiting for anything to slide by, a pretty simple procedure. As time went on, he did his work well, making a small name for himself with the others in his profession. It was an easy life really, easier than manual labor though how he trained at home, you'd think other wise but he still felt an unease about himself .
One of which was when he first met a member of the rebels, a group that had yet to come to terms with what was and tried to ruin the status quo. Didn't they understand the feedback of what they were doing, how nothing changed but the amount of panic they caused to minor citizens?
He had been on a regular patrol when he saw one, a rebel running from some other guards. He moved to assist but noticed that he recognized her, she was the girl with eyes like his, eyes still flickering with life. He wasn't sure why, but he let her pass, let a dangerous rebel pass by without a fight. She looked at him at as she ran by, first with confusion and then with a small smile continued on her way. He didn't realize it until turning around to see his reflection in a window, didn't even recognize the unfamiliar sensation...
But he had a smile on his face as he watched her disappear around a corner....
After the encounter, he moved out of his old home and got a small apartment, feeling that the connections he had were clouding his judgment. Something about having to see his mother's eyes made him nervous so by 20 he was gone. Before he left, he promised her that he'd keep doing his best, though he didn't see the point in the ritual since he planned to do so anyway. His life was steady, to a degree but all of that, his worries and his real desire, came to a front when he was faced with a life changing decision.
It had been so normal, training had gone well and nothing out of the ordinary had shown up as he escorted his charge through the street. Until suddenly, everything went to hell. Someone blew a bullhorn and a fire erupted on his left, a bit distraction for the person running towards the target, his charge. The attacker, a masked assailant ran in a panicked frenzy with a scream of desperation. They were part of the rebellion. Obviously, the attack failed, Jonah struck their weapon to the ground before a sharp low kick knocked away their legs and they were falling to ground. The assailant scrambled to their feet and began to scurry away, Jonah gave chase and they made their way all the way out to the coal mines.
“Stop chasing me!” The assailant shouted as they jumped into the large ditch where the entrance was located. The masked fighter tripped on their landing and fell with a huff. As Jonah followed suit, landing in a roll, the attacker made one last lunge that Jonah quickly put a stop to when he threw them to the ground with one arm twisted behind their back. “Let me go!”
“You are weaker than me, you should have been prepared for this outcome.” He responded as he pulled off her mask to reveal....
The girl with eyes like his.
Yes, the girl he had let go earlier came back, the one he used to see when he thought about the life he was living came back after failing once already. Why did she come back, why didn't she learn her lesson and why was he thinking about letting her go again. Why did seeing this person fighting still make his heart stop a second, make him think about what he could be doing differently.
“I know you, you're the guy who let me by the last time.” She said in realization.
“And you're the one who was dumb enough to go and come back after getting a second chance at life.” He responded, deadpan as he pulled her to her feet.
“What point is there to life if you can't make your own choices?” She retorted with a strange fire in her eyes. She broke out of the grip and glared at him. “You and I have the same eyes you should see things a lot clearer.”
“Don't you understand, the war's already over.” He responded coolly. “This isn't your last pitch effort to save the world, we're not one city away from being under their control and you aren't the last key to the puzzle.” His steely blue eyes cut through her. “We've lost, the invasion you're trying stop? That's come and gone and people have moved on with their lives, what is is and what is not is not so stop living in a fairy tale world and get it together or you won't even have a life to cry about.” Those were the facts, the rebels should know that. Galatec was already in control, there wasn't a war to fight anymore, all that was left were lives to live as best as possible. Throwing yourself into a self-righteous ideal only serves to get you killed and there's no coming back from that. “Clearly, it was a mistake to let you go, I won't make it again.”
“Okay,” She still had a smile on her face though. “than why am I not being turned in right now?” And then he had to be quiet as her smirk grew. “Why do I know that you're never going to turn me in?” She walked up close and never broke eye contact. “It's because you know what they'll do to me, don't you?”She took a step forward and he took one back. “You get how that's wrong, and you care.” She stepped passed him and he turned his head but didn't move to stop her. “Ya know, a guy like you could do something if he wanted, way more than me.” She climbed out of the hole before turning to look down at him and give a quick and playful salute. “Maybe stop trying to make sense of the situation and find out what you really believe, you're a human so you should act like one!” She ran off around yet another corner, leaving him to his thoughts.
“Crap..” He said to himself.
Why did he let her let go...again!?
Why did he smile the last the time, why doesn't he feel bad about doing it now? Maybe it was an idiotic thing to give up on the ideals of right and wrong, maybe he had been idiotic about a lot of things. He had tried doing it his way for as long as he could remember, it was how he survived but was surviving and living the same thing or was he making them the same so he could deal with the situation? What were his real motives for his way of thinking, how much was logic and how much was fear?
He stood there at the entrance of the mine, thinking to himself about what he'd do next.
Talents: Logical thinking, more than anything else. Jonah may be good at fighting but that's a skill, his true talent, which could be considered the back bone of all his skills, is his logical mindset which gives him the ability to strike precisely and plan accordingly.
Hindrances: Empathizing, holding his temper, admitting he was wrong, and expressing himself.
Equipment: Morpher(Blue Ranger). A normal combat knife he keeps on him for special occasions and his glasses/glasses cleaning kit.
Bonus Round
Quotes: “What is is, and what is not is not.”
Theme Song: nope
Aspiration: To find out what he really wants in life.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation:Violet
Primary Weapon:THE PHOTON BOW
The photon bow is a light based, long bow that generates arrows of pure energy to strike down its target. The bow is capable of firing multiple arrows at once with its average maximum being four unless overcharged (which will result in a rain of twelve arrows before the weapon is forced to recharge). By turning the bow, one can focus the arrows into one incredibly condensed and narrow blast, but this attack takes a lot of time to charge which leaves the archer open to attack.
As each attack's quantity and quality are affected by both how long and in what way a person pulls back the bow string, the bow is not for the clumsy or undisciplined. It takes timing and calculation to bring out this weapon's maximum potential.
Energy Shield:
His shield is a circular shape, perfect for blocking attacks. It's a very nice shade of purple and glows in the dark.
Blaster Design: Silver trim, black trigger, mostly violet. It has a sleek design with the gun's barrel having a thin line of silver across its top. The actual muzzle is the same pitch black as the trigger and there's a neon line of green running along the side of the gun.
Powers: As the violet ranger, Jonah has the ability to see across all spectrum of sight. He makes calculations on how to strike next by scanning people's bodies with X-Ray vision and using infrared, he has the ability to shoot people down and fight accurately in the shadows. Along with X-ray and infrared, Jonah can see UV light and Radio waves along with much more. With vision beyond an eagle's, Jonah can strike down any opponent with deadly precision.
Zords:N/A
Jonah stood behind a lone tree with his binoculars set to night-vision, the darkness only lightened by the stray strands of the moon.. He had set up his sting in a small park for kids, surrounded by small shrubbery and a few trees all of which was going to be demolished soon. Across from him stood the construction zone where they were working on a 20 floor parking garage. As if the world needed more places for Galatec to park their fancy vehicles.
He was there because there had been a report of beasts getting loose from the science division, a few Githkin test subjects had broken out of the lab and ran off into the city with a few people commenting on seeing them in the park at night. No one was advised to stay indoors because Galatec didn't want panic to ruin their precious balance which meant the people of the city were being left high and dry. Instead, curfew was moved up to 9:00 pm, lucky there weren't any encounters in that short amount of time. But now, night had fallen and anyone not in doors was a target which didn't seem to matter as there had been no sign of any people for awhile.
Jonah wasn't sure if he was happy or sad about that.
In this part of town there was always someone trying to get one over on you, he remembered hearing gun shots from his window from time to time, now he doesn't hear anything, no crimes, no muggings just the silence of night.
“Every thing's so peaceful now.” He thought to himself as he watched the area. It was nights like these where he was the most conflicted. He was about to stop a few monsters that could kill a lot of people but he wasn't sure if the city has ever been safer than it is now. Nights like these could happen every day, a few Githkin escaping every night and it might not even make a dent in Earth's war torn history. This was one of the main reasons he couldn't except the other ranger's idea of a righteous victory, he couldn't say that Galatec wasn't a benefit to earth as a whole. He certainly got higher in this society than his background would have allowed him to before, there wasn't much prejudice or pollution or war. Just work and while that might be boring he couldn't say that weren't plenty of people who should only have that option in life.
*rustle*
His gaze instantly went to a bush on the opposite side of his hiding place. His hand went for his morpher but he didn't move, he wouldn't till he confirmed his target. As he watched, two figures popped out of the bush, they looked around warily before fulling stepping out into the moonlight, revealing their small frames.
Children, two of them, they walked around as if trying to find something. The first was about twelve while the other was at least 13.
Jonah didn't move from his post but instead used his binoculars to scan them closer. He noticed that they weren't frightened, instead being rather resolved. Judging by their hooded attire, they must have planned to be outside tonight. Hooded children out scouting the night sky with an emotion in their eyes, they must be part of the .5% meaning..
They were rebel scouts.
“Great, just what I needed.” Jonah scoffed to himself, obviously not thrilled with the idea of having to deal with another rebel problem. Those guys really need to start leaving things to the professionals. Not that he was any more of a professional than they were but he definitely had more combat training. Luckily they didn't spot him as he hid in the shadows, to bad a very aggressive group of something had the duo in their sights.
The rogue Githkins, five of them. The creatures moved toward the children and they screamed. The scout duo clearly hadn't had access to the same reports that his team had. The younger child ducked behind the eldest but still held some form of courage as the creatures drew nearer. The first Githkin raised it's hand to strike but the blow was offset by a timely thrown stone that knocked it's hand off course. The beast quickly turned to identify the attacker only to be met with a larger stone striking it in the face, in fact they were all being pelted with stones, most at their legs and ankles but a number of them aimed at their eyes and face.
The children were initially scared but then became rather perplexed when they saw their would-be attackers being pelted. They stood there curious before a glimpse of a figure in the shadows ushering them to escape had them nodding and running back into the bushes, leaving as fast as they had come.
“Perfect.” Jonah thought within the shadows. “They didn't see my face and I managed to sit some of those idiots in the eye.” He quickly scanned them over, three of the five still looked like they had a decent control of their faculties. “Even blind, that's still too many for my liking, I'll have to fight them on my terms if I wanna win.”
And then he remembered the construction yard.
“That's it.” He dashed out of the foliage to close the distance between him and the Githkin, Shocked at first, one made a fierce swing he ducked and rolled under before popping up to his feet in between the two blinded by stones. He deflected a left hook with an open palm before his leg whipped up to kick both eye damaged Githkin's in the chest, leg swinging back and forth between the two of them.
"As I thought." The attack merely stunned them and soon the others were on him as well, swinging violently as he back flipped away and skidded to a stop. “That's right, your enemy's right here,” He cockily saluted before running into the parking garage shadows with the Githkin's hot on his trail. “Alright,” He swiped his hand over his wrist and his morpher flashed
“Strike force, flash forward!”
In the parking garage on level three, the Githkin's crept. Deep into the shadows they lurked, foot steps echoing in the hollow space, often turning at the sight of a shadowy gray figure passing by them like a phantom. Their eyes scanned the area for their prey but to no avail. As they passed by a pillar of stone, a sound, a click, had them halting in surprise. They lay unaware of who was on the other side.
"X-Ray activated..."
Jonah, donned in dark purple armor of his ranger form stood with bow drawn. The dim light of the bow focused and tightened as the arrow of light condensed.
"Focusing rate: 100%"
The creature's pondered as they began to take a step closer to the pillar of stone.
"Firing..."
Jonah released the bow string and the arrow shot through the stone pillar and the skull of the Githkin on the other side.
The other soldiers went frantic on the defense when their companion turned into ooze but Jonah was already moving.
"Infrared activated."
His vision swapped out and suddenly he could see all of them clearly as they scrambled in the darkness. He pulled his bow string back before dashing out of his hiding place in a dive roll, landing on one knee with bow drawn and arrows already appearing between his fingers. He let it loose, just as the nearest Githkin began to notice his presence, and littered its body with three arrows to its chest. It screeched before dissolving and suddenly he couldn't hide anymore. They closed in but Jonah was already readying his bow as they rushed him.
“Here we go..”
He dashed backwards as one came down on him with a punch that cracked the concrete. As it moved to continue its rampage, he released a charged arrow through its chest before running up to back-kick it into the others and fire another three arrows into the group. As they scrambled to regroup in the shadows, he switched to X-Ray and scanned them for damage.
“That last attack was on stun but the one in front received most of the damage and can't move, I'll focus my attacks on the two left as the weakened one slows them down.”
By the time he finished his thought they were on him again. He back-flipped to dodge a high swing and side stepped the flying kick from another, striking the attacking Githkin with his bow before having to dash backwards and avoid the mighty swing of the weakened Githkin. He returned to the fray with a flying knee that struck the weakened Githkin in the chest, knocking it into one of its companions and freeing Jonah to strike down the one now left alone.
It moved to attack but he back-flipped away to skid across the ground with bow drawn. As the arrow charged, he dodged the incoming blows from the Githkin soldier; ducking and weaving past each punch, smacking away the clumsy kick that followed with a high kick of his own and bringing up his bow before releasing it at point blank range to turn the soldier's skull into gray goop and watching as the rest of its body dissolved.
Just as the other two Githkins managed to center themselves and go for a retaliation, his purple suit turned dark gray and he faded back into the shadows. Like a phantom, he circled them as he slid from pillar to pillar in the darkness. With a steady hand he pulled back his bow string and two arrows appeared between his fingers. The light of the arrows released a light shine as they began to glow.
And then he was dashing forward
He released the two arrows, hitting the back of the weakened Githkin's legs and making it buckle to its knees. As it went to get up, Jonah ran up its back and used it as a spring board to become air borne with bow string drawn. Before the other Githkin could think, it was struck with three stun arrows to the chest and Jonah was closing the remaining distance with a flying kick that had it skidding backwards. As the Githkin stumbled to regroup, Jonah hit the ground in a roll, landing right below the soldier on one knee with bow pointing straight up.
"Firing."
He released and the concussive force smashed into the Githkin's jaw, sending it flying up into the air and falling to the ground with a splat. Standing to full height, he turned, fingers already pulling back his bow string. He casually walked by the remaining drone and with out looking, let go the arrow of light between his fingers.
The last thing it heard was the whirl of energy....
Jonah breathed heavily as his ranger form shattered out of existence. He had been lucky, the obstacles in the unfinished parking garage gave him ample back up for his strategy. Had he been left in the open, the tide could have very well changed to their favor but what could have been wasn't really important now. By hook or by crook he was still alive and the kids were still alive, that was all that mattered now.
He sighed to himself, heart still racing from the exertion. He waited for a moment to steady himself before he retrieved the item he had been hiding in the back of his pants. A flare gun, simple but elegant in its design. He pointed the weapon up at the sky and fired. The flare flew high into the sky before exploding like a fire work.
“That'll get Galatec's attention.” He noted. Now notified in as proper a way as possible, the corporation could retrieve their lost and unstable experiments. Jonah wasn't totally pleased with the idea of assisting someone he had designated as his enemy but he couldn't clean this up on his own and Galatec had better facilities for the alien soldiers albeit slave ready more than anything else. “I guess that means the mission's over.”
“Time to head back to base.” |
48,744 | 1,311 | 50 | 2,301 | 766 | Adelram Drax
New Objective Received: Acquire Accountant Director Shplorn.
"Yes ma'am." said Drax. The lights in his palms flickered to life at the promise of battle in the future. Without a moment wasted he spun on his heel and took his first step out the door, quickly building up speed. He ducked through the door, though not in his usual careful manner. The frame of the door "expanded" a small bit to accommodate for the rushing robot.
He wasted no time in making his way to the dormitories. The hallways just barely avoided the top of his head as he sprinted through the building. He took a stair-case five steps at a time as he bounded upwards. Time was of the essence now that battle was at hand. Soon, he was approaching Sphlorn's dormitory. He skidded to a stop, scraping and cracking the floor. He planted his feet, and his upper momentum carried him into what looks like a perfect face-plane trajectory, but he extended his knee forward, clawed his hand and slammed his knee and hand into the floor.
A burst of energy erupted from his palm, and a river of energy would swiftly course towards the Githkin and Shplorn.
---
The energy would lift the both of them in the air, were Drax would then scoop the both of them up without explanation and rush them back to Ruthalia. | Name: GD-002-17
Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath
Race: Android/Robot
Age: 7
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: "Male"
Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form.
Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints.
His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder.
In The Mind
Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view.
When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords.
Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like.
Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike.
Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up.
Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission.
Where They’ve Been
History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax.
When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin.
He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him.
Talents:
Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down.
Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons.
He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander.
He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum.
He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent.
Hindrances:
He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck.
If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited.
Powers:
Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry.
Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain.
Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position.
Equipment:
Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers.
One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies.
Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time.
And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering.
He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air.
Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out.
Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision.
Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets.
Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload.
Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired.
Bonus Round
Quotes:
"..."
"The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%."
"..."
Theme Song: i dunno
Aspiration: File not found.
"Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure.
"The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun.
"Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight.
"This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply."
The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor.
The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail.
Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking.
Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up.
Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind.
When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere.
If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed.
He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level. |
48,745 | 1,311 | 51 | 2,305 | 2,032 | Clementine was glad to see that there was some sort of backup plan in place, though she wondered at its efficacy. It also made her think of her parents and what would happen to them, but at this point, she tried not to think about it; they had always been model Galatec supporters, and maybe that afforded them a bit of protection, it would be dreadfully bad PR if anyone were to find out that they received harm from Galatec. Clementine took the wristband-like object gingerly, carefully strapping to her arm. She watched in awe as Jonah transformed. Following his lead, she decided to do the same.
"Strike Force, F-Flash Forward!" Clementine said with a slight stutter, thrusting her arm over her head. Much like with Jonah, the yellow stone in Clementine's wristband shone brightly, but instead of ebbing, the light expanded into a brilliant blinding flash that was over as quickly as it had started. The light now gone, Clementine found herself in a yellow version of Jonah's suit. Clementine shrank in on herself a little bit, not expecting her transformation to be so...dazzling and to make her the temporary center of attention. "S-sorry, I hope everyone's eyes are ok...m-maybe I didn't control it right or something..." she said, wondering if her transformation was supposed to a bit more tame, like Jonah's had been.
Yet her lack of confidence and self-reproach seemed to melt away slightly. Wearing this suit invigorated her, seemed to fill her with a sense of purpose. She looked at Samara and said, "I'll make sure to get your message to this Michael." Right now, Clementine would rather have the responsibility of being a courier rather than a combatant if she could help it. She went to Jonah's side, ready to follow him. Even though she had only known him for less than an hour, that fact that she knew him longest made Clementine feel a certain panicked attachment to Jonah, the closest thing she had to familiarity she could get in this chaotic situation. He also gave off a sense of reliability, having shown a readiness and willingness to take the first step, to lead; so Clementine was ready and willing to follow. | Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title?
Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker
Race: Humany Human of Humaness
Age: 21
Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases.
Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth.
In The Mind
Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need.
Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things.
Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others.
Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black.
Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can.
Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts.
Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own.
Where They’ve Been
History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens.
Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free.
After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously.
It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him.
Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things.
Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger.
Powers: N to the A biatch.
Equipment:
Blue Photon Morpher
Red-Light-Emitting Necklace
Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools.
Ripped up miner clothes.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!"
Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Blue
Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying.
Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through.
Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means.
Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it. |
48,746 | 1,311 | 52 | 1,815 | 418 | As Mable wrote her name in the notepad, her pink eyes widened like an owl's as she saw the message. "Red Rock?..." She glanced at the Githkin's face, only just now actually looking at it. "You aren't a fan at all, are you?" She asked. "I've been on the sidelines since this conflict started, waiting for something to happen." Mable handed the notepad back to the Githkin, just as her manager scrambled over. "Just a fan Joo-Joo, calm down.~" Mable waved the Githkin off politely and began to walk away. She was having trouble keeping her breathing easy, and her blue cheeks had begun to flush purple. Things had finally moved into gear in this city, and she was more excited than she'd been in years.
She tried to focus on her concert, the lyrics and dance routine she had crammed so hard to learn, but it was hard to care about any of it at the moment. She wanted to leave right now and do something, but she couldn't. She gripped her pounding chest and let out an anxious breath. "I'm gonna go crazy if I miss this." | Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist)
Nickname/Alias: Mable
Race: Valiant
Age: 20
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: Female
Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples.
Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank.
Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts.
In The Mind
Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them.
Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause.
Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets.
Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone.
Fears: Failure, gloomy moods.
Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning.
Where They’ve Been
History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet.
She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec.
Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside.
Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability.
Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire.
Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out.
Equipment: Morpher??
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Peace and Love!"
Theme Song: N/A
Aspiration: Love and Peace!
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: ??
Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe
Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points.
Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact.
Powers: ??
Zords:
Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd.
This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!"
She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough.
Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming.
As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were.
The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away.
"Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim.
After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message.
'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.'
As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home. |
48,747 | 1,311 | 53 | 92 | 2,185 | Oliver stared at the device he was given. He was still unsure if he was the right choice for the job. Watching as the others morphed into their respective colors made Oliver excited. When he heard the words come out of Tommy's mouth it made him feel a little more secure. He strapped the device around his wrist and began his morphing process.
Holding his wrist out in front of him he said, "Strike Force, Flash Forward!" A form of pixels and light appeared in front of him emitting from the green stone. Oliver curiously reached out to it, and when he touched it the light and pixels started enveloping around his body shining brightly. When the light finally dimmed Oliver could be seen standing there covered from top to bottom in a powerful suit.
He could feel the strength of the suit and the light it produced cleared his mind of any doubt he had earlier. He looked up to his fellow rangers and said, "This is-is-absolutely awesome. I feel so much stronger." He turned back to John and Samara when he remembered about Michael, "Don't worry about Micheal. Will make sure he and the everyone else is safe." | Name: Oliver Johnson
Nickname/Alias: Ollie
Race: Human
Age: 16
Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish.
Gender: Male
Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age.
Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes.
In The Mind
Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself.
He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him.
Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air.
Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it.
Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys.
Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone.
Quirks: Is constantly zoning out.
Where They’ve Been
History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth.
During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret.
Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since.
Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face.
Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything.
Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic."
Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs.
Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Green
Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator.
Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster.
Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight.
Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light.
Zords: None at the moment. |
48,748 | 1,311 | 54 | 1,872 | 1,663 | The githkin did not respond to Mable's words, nor react in any way. In fact, once she had handed back the book it simply turned round and left. Gajoon appeared to be quite relieved as he wiped away some... Wait, could Cephapodians sweat? Well regardless, he made the motion of wiping sweat from his brow and looked all the happier for it. Since Mable was concerned with her own thoughts, and the githkin was either too stupid or too impolite, the pop star's manager went through the trouble of closing a simple wooden door. Really, what was the world coming to?
"Miss Love, are you alright?" he asked, approaching Mable. "You're looking awfully flushed."
He then gasped, covering his mouth with four tentacle-hands as his eyes opened wide. "Please tell me you're not having doubts about the concert? You're still in top condition, right? OH GOD WHAT DID THAT GITHKIN WANT?! WE'RE RUINED, I JUST KNOW IT!"
Jackson went back to work without a care in the world, and why should he be bothered by anything? Things were going so splendid, weren't they? The drill was handling like a charm, too. Work continued just like that for another four hours. In that time Jackson only had to stop drilling once when he ran into a gas pocket, so they had to get it cleaned up to protect the workers. A single spark from those axes, or his drill, and it could have led to a pretty massive explosion. And that's where Jackson found himself now, standing back behind some specialty workers that were using some kind of Galatec designed machines to siphon away the natural gas pocket.
Jackson...
...What?
Jackson...
Something... Something was... Talking to him? It sounded like a voice, a soft and hushed whisper. Female. For some reason it reminded Jackson of buttermilk icing on cake. But where was it coming from? Nearby the twin sisters, the spotters, stood having their own conversation. Unlike Jackson, they didn't get to take a short break while the cleanup crew worked. They had to keep on coming the walls with small instruments and sensors, looking for potential valuables. Standing right behind them was the same githkin that had been watching over Jackson's crew today, looking... Bored? Could githkin look bored? It was so hard to tell with those mouthless faces.
As soon as her orders were given, everyone practically jumped to follow them. The assistants plugged away at their computers to send out the order for the missing slaves' families to be rounded up. Drax didn't waste any time in immediately leaving to the supervisors' dormitories, damaging the door in the process. Foreman Jo'ones gave her a nod and saluted with his brand new arms, then took off without a word. Githkin XJ-47 likewise left without any sort of acknowledgement nor response. It was the way of his kind, after all, to obey without question and without hesitation.
"Ma'am, the order is complete," said the female assistant.
"Cameras show a group of rebels are nearing this office. Shall I activate the security measures?" inquired the male. It may have seemed a silly question, but the facility policy did indicate that the office security was only to be activated if approved by the foreman or a representative with equal authority, and Galatec was nothing if not a stickler for the fine print.
The android charged toward his target without hesitation, and quickly found himself in the middle of a large battle between two githkin and seven rebels. The githkin, sensing their general's approach, dove out of the way. The rebels had an altogether different response.
"It's Adelram Drax!" shouted one of them, holding up a pickaxe as his primary weapon. "Destroy him!"
The rebels all assaulted Drax. The leader attacked with his pickaxe, while another leapt at him with a baseball bat. Two more shot at the robot with old shotguns, while another two fired small pistols. The seventh was armed with a laser blaster but never got the opportunity to shoot, as Drax simply barreled through the entire group, completely unharmed, and disappeared around the corner. Drax's CPU computed a 92.3% chance that any survivors would be near instantly rounded up and/or executed by the two githkin they had previously engaged.
A minute after this altercation and Drax found himself at the dormitories just outside of Shplorn's room. She stood in the doorway while the three githkin there, two regulars and one elite, held their heads in confusion. They were being given contradicting orders and while normally the orders of Regional Manager Ruthalia would take precedence, Ruth had severed the connection while Shplorn kept trying. Drax had seen this before, but it was irrelevant to his mission.
As soon as Drax was in her sight, Shplorn's eyes opened wide. She threw her arms up into the air in a complete surrender, allowing Drax's energy wave to easily scoop her up. At the same time he was able to grab the three githkin, and could carry all four in his massive arms without too much difficulty. However as soon as he held the four, his Situation Awareness Sensor picked up a presence behind him. One of Division Alpha, a man about thirty years old wearing some impressive (for scavenged) metal battle armor and holding a plasma blaster in his hand. He had the look of a warrior about him, a man that enjoyed the fighting.
"Drop Shplorn, rust bucket, or you'll need a whole lot more than a paint job when I'm through with you!"
It was an interesting and poetic thought, if the githkin died with smiles just like the slaves they worked to death. Of course without context it made absolutely no sense seeing as the species had no mouths, but that's neither here nor there. Michael risked his life, everything, to break cover in the firefight long enough to shoot at a githkin with his pistol. His index finger squeezed that trigger, which in turn set the mechanisms of this ancient machine in motion to ignite the powder inside a small metal tube. The resulting bang was a microcosm of the situation Michael had found himself in. He was just a small metal tube inside a larger, more complex machine, and now he was being hurled toward a danger he understood only too well.
The bullet left the barrel of the gun and struck true, hitting the githkin square in the chest. The creature recoiling about a quarter of a foot, but it let out no grunt or cry of pain, nor did its hand reach to the wound by instinct. Instead it focused entirely on the source of the shot, its eyes meeting Michael's. His eyes were more concerned with that bullet wound, or lack thereof. The bullet had hit it, certainly, but flattened uselessly against the creature's hardened skin, leaving behind only a small bruise.
Uh oh.
One by one, each of the youths transformed using the morphers they had been provided. The rush, the force, the power, it was so... Was there even a word for this kind of experience? Whatever it was, it felt fantastic! With each transformation they had not only an influx of power, but an influx of knowledge. It was a little bit disorienting at first, but something they could quickly recover from. Each one instantly knew the capabilities they had as a ranger, from their weapons, to their enhanced abilities, to their unique ability granted by the suit. Oh happy day.
"I tinkered with these morphers' designs a little bit and added my own touch. When you came into contact with the Morphin Grid, it should have downloaded your suit's entire skill set directly into your minds. Years worth of training in a single data stream, hahaha." John smiled, making eye contact with each one of the four that stood before him, then gave his final words before seeing them off. "Time to be a hero and save your red ranger. Power Rangers Strike Force, move out!"
Once the four got going into the door Samara had opened up for them, they could feel even more of the power granted by their suits. The tunnels ahead held challenges, though. It was time to see how they'd handle it.
Once the rangers departed, John shook all over, his composure suddenly vanishing. Samara knew that he put on a brave and confident face in even the worst of times, but he still had his own doubts. Right now fear was showing all over his face.
"Right, we need to get more power to the RDS. These generators are not going to cut it. The charge time is too long for large teleportations like that." He quickly paced around, thinking and thinking. With a mind like his, thousands of thoughts would race through and be contemplated, but he didn't seem to like any of them. After several moments, he came to a stop.
"I have an idea if the generators don't recharge in time... But I don't like it and I doubt you will either." | Name:
Jackson Trent
Nickname/Alias:
Jack, sex on a stick (imo).
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
. |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.
Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills.
Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
The Power Rangers
White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
Protecting people
The greater good
Dislikes:
Galatec
His job
Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control
His parents being under Galatec’s influence
Fears:
Slipping back under Galatec’s control
Not being able to find the Power Rangers
Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
Dying on the job
Quirks:
He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?
History:
Freedom.
That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.
Until the Power Rangers.
At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”.
That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
Animalistic instincts & reflexes
Can see multiple approaches to a problem
Agile on his feet
A linear understanding of science
Apparently quite the singer
Hindrances:
His perpetual mood swings
He always sees the good in people
Can sometimes be quick to judge
Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people
Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
An old mining torch
A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
10 shirts
4 pairs of jeans
A pair of combat boots
A pair of old sneakers
An old scarf
A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
7 bottles of water
A sleeping bag
9 MRE kits
Quotes:
“Cross your fingers.”
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into. |
48,749 | 1,311 | 55 | 2,301 | 766 | Adelram Drax
Adelram shifted the Githkin in his arms and dropped them feet first onto the ground. With his now free hand he pointed at the metal-clad warrior.
"Kill that rebel."
He spoke simply and plainly, making himself easily understood to the less than stellar intelligence of his subordinates. With Shplorn still in his left arm, he made his pointed hand into one of a flat palm. The plasma blaster in the warrior's hand was one of considerably higher caliber than the rest of the rebel forces' small arms. As such, Adelram decided it would be worth the time to place a basic energy shield behind him to cover his retreat. He had no interest in fighting the rebel warrior, even if Adelram did calculate the warrior's higher chance to be a high-ranking soldier in the rebel outfit.
But, it was not his mission. The warrior was willing to fight to rescue Shplorn, which means that Shlporn was of ever more importance to Drax.
He held his hostage in one hand, turned quickly around and extended his arm far behind him, as if he were doing a highly impractical stiff-arm. Another pulse, and an energy shield floated behind him. He began to run once again, and if he ran into any more enemy insurgents he would attempt to dodge around them. He would have to take a brief moment once he got back to Ruthalia to recharge his energy so it was full capacity in the coming battle. | Name: GD-002-17
Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath
Race: Android/Robot
Age: 7
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: "Male"
Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form.
Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints.
His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder.
In The Mind
Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view.
When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords.
Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like.
Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike.
Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up.
Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission.
Where They’ve Been
History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax.
When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin.
He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him.
Talents:
Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down.
Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons.
He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander.
He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum.
He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent.
Hindrances:
He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck.
If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited.
Powers:
Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry.
Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain.
Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position.
Equipment:
Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers.
One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies.
Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time.
And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering.
He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air.
Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out.
Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision.
Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets.
Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload.
Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired.
Bonus Round
Quotes:
"..."
"The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%."
"..."
Theme Song: i dunno
Aspiration: File not found.
"Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure.
"The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun.
"Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight.
"This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply."
The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor.
The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail.
Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking.
Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up.
Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind.
When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere.
If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed.
He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level. |
48,750 | 1,311 | 56 | 1,966 | 2,601 | Michael Sonnen
In face of the Githkin, Michael had knowingly smiled at the futility of it all.
The bullet had done nothing; a lot less than he had first thought it would but it had only proven his gut feeling. The Githkin were too monstrous to combat, Galatect was too godly to even think of rebelling against. And even still, with all this fear, despair, and certain death; Michael had managed a smile.
Soon though it died. The war around him wouldn't allow him a moment's peace and now, neither would his opposition. He scowled at the demon-faced creature, eyeing the only mark he had inflicted on the beast with contempt. "Bring it," he muttered ever-so-quietly; summoning his rage from the pit of his guilt.
"Come on!" he screamed next, demanding the creature to charge with a ripping gesture towards himself. "Come onnnnn!" He moved backwards as he did, keeping the gun at his side and the pickaxe comfortably in grasp.
If I meet you now, Courtney... If you're looking... than you'll know I did everything in my power to pay you back for failing you. I won't die without taking at least one of them with me. I'll look him in the eyes when I do... carve a smile on its face.
Michael glanced his surroundings for something that could help him; his mind was too occupied to find anything worthy. He found it consumed in this war. Filled with adrenaline. Everything came just a tad slower but none of it seemed to make any real sense to him. That was until looked the Githkin in its pitch-black eyes again.
His eyes... I'll aim for his bloody eyes! I gotta stay alive long enough for an opening. Its crazy to even think of fighting this monster but I-I don't have much choice. | Name: Michael Sonnen.
Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother).
Race: Human.
Age: 20.
Ethnicity: African American.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye.
Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences.
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In The Mind
Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious.
Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions.
Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal.
Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different.
Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs.
Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined.
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Where They’ve Been
History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think,
This isn't right...
Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought.
Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off.
His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered.
"Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-"
It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself.
Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often.
Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it?
Powers: None.
Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner.
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Bonus Round
Quotes: "We fight for today!"
Theme Song: Throne
Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Red
Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung.
Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently.
Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets.
Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes.
Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty.
"Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you."
She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that.
By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic.
His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on.
Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening.
Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns.
"Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself. |
48,751 | 1,311 | 57 | 427 | 1,112 | with: The Help
Her fingers drummed lightly on the desk top as her eyes continued to watch the monitors that displayed the various states of unrest in the key areas. She did not want to miss a moment or an opportunity if it could be helped so when General Drax bust through the door causing some substantial damage, she merely sighed and shook her head. That robot was going to be the cause of some serious headaches further down the line.
Pleased that her orders were being carried out promptly and efficiently, Ruth began to relax some and began to drum out a beat; one one, two two, three four and five. No one should be this relaxed in such a situation, but Ruthalia was. The only thing that could make this moment more relaxing were if she had a line of slap-ees lining up and awaiting to feel the graceful presence of her hand on their skin at full force speeds. One could dream.
She was soon brought out of her daydream by the voice of the fearful assistant. “Fabulous. For carrying out your work so efficiently, you will not be the next person that I slap today! Good for you.” She gave a dazzling, albeit crazy, smile before she continued her drumming beat. Alas, it was short lived as the more resentful of the two assistants quipped in soon after she had begun. “But of course! This is precisely why these measures are in place. But thank you for sticking to the regulations. You have also been awarded slap-munity for a short time. Congratulations! You’ve earned it.” The fact that the second assistant had stuck so stringently to the guidelines placed him in a slightly less dark light than Ruth previously put him. She decided to call the fearful one Glen and the resentful one Coco. Team Glen Coco.
You go Glen Coco. | Name: Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento
Nickname/Alias: Ruth, ThinkTank, Lady Regional, RM
Race: Iki'lek
Age: I’ve lived more years than you could possibly ever count, maggot.
Ethnicity: Iki'lek Hybrid
Gender: Gender is such a primitive thing, but I do have a fondness for the feminine attire your world has. So let’s go with female, for now.
Appearance: Ruth has two main appearances that you will see. Her public face is one that you want to give attention to yet makes you feel the need to divert your gaze at the same time as it draws you in. She opts for pale skin, sprinkled with freckles over its entirety. Her body stretches out to a modest 5’8” without the enhancements of high heels. (“These spectacular extensions for your lower appendages are absolutely marvellous!”) Her body type is that of womanly but well taken care of. When you can have any human body that you choose, why wouldn’t you give yourself what you feel is the most desirable body available?
Her eyes are generally a dark hazel shade with a very prominent black halo around the iris. Her golden, copper brown hair reaches just below her shoulders and is generally styled in some manner befitting those in the Business profession on Earth. She is a fan of feminine make-up products and has become very proficient in applying it to her face and nails. She has a mass array of different colours that suit her preferred skin tone and hair colour.
The second, and most natural, of Ruth’s appearances is not a common sight. Her race has skin that is silvery grey in colour that has a shimmering light to it. Her torso closely resembles that of a human in the sense that it holds the appendages and head together and contains almost all the vital organs. There are not just four appendages, there are fourteen. She has four arms, two at the same area as human arms and then a secondary pair sitting beneath those, protruding from the torso sides. The arms are very similar to human arms but are slightly longer, and there are six fingers on each hand with a thumb making it seven total. He does not have legs or feet, instead she has ten tendrils (see what I did there? I’m so funny…) much like an octopus or squid would have but these are full of muscle and allow her to move at high speeds and very erratically.
Her head is slightly more difficult to describe. If you imagine a generic Martian to a human you think of a bulbous upper head, longer chin area and giant, black, and bulbous eyes that are almost as big as the entire head. Well the bulbous upper half is similar to what Iki’lek heads look like. It reaches further out to the back of the cranium though, but not by much. The lower face is longer and more drawn out than a human but not quite as much as a Martian face. Both halves of the race have no nose, instead they have slits much like a snake would. The Brawn half have a large, gaping maw that allows them to bite their targets and to yell out of. The Brain half have no mouth as they communicate telepathically. For Ruth, as she is a hybrid, does not look quite like the two single halves of the Iki’lek race.
The Brawn half have smaller, more protruding eyes that face forward and have near tunnel vision while the Brain half have larger and less centralised eyes that rest closer to the sides of the skull to allow them to have a far wider range of vision. Ruth, however, has larger bulbous eyes that are slightly to the sides while still allowing her to see forward only if she so wishes thanks to her secondary set of eyelids which she can use as blinders. Her eyes aren’t black however, they are a deep, dark purple colour and her mouth is not quite as large as her Brawny brethren. She could bite onto you but probably wouldn’t be able to swallow your entire head like they could.
The final noteworthy marking of her alien appearance is that of the markings across her entire body. Her head, face, neck and spinal cord (at least what you can see of it) have sky blue markings, like that of a calligraphy pen being dragged across a piece of paper to create weaving lines that crossover and connect like a fluid tapestry. The rest of her body that you could see (basically just her arms at this point) are covered in disjointed and jagged looking maroon coloured markings. They are erratic and seem to have no pattern to them at all. Both of these markings look almost as though they are not actually on the skin, almost like they are floating on the surface of water and are in constant motion. This race has no hair on their body and, their tendrils stretched out fully, stand at around 6’5” in length from head to… toe?
Clothing: When in human form, Ruth can be found in a variety of business attire. Be it knee length pencil skirts with fitted blouses and a blazer, or perhaps she felt summery and is merely wearing an A-line skirt with a short sleeved gypsy top with a light jacket? She wears a large variety of clothing as she is so in love with it. She can also be seen in dresses, trousers, suits, shorts; basically everything at one point or another. She also will always be in high heels. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. She will be wearing them even when she’s kicking your ass.
When she is not in her human form, Ruth’s alien body is covered in an extremely durable, high density but lightweight battle suit. It covers her entire torso and chest area but leaves her arms exposed from the shoulder areas down. Her tendrils are entirely covered and the material has strong grippers within the material that allow her to walk on any solid surface. Her hands, all four of them, wear different gloves with varying abilities which will be outlined later. The material is a light silvery grey shimmering material that closely resembles the natural skin tone so it almost looks as if she is wearing nothing and that her markings stop at her shoulders and neck area.
Personality: Ruth is a very, very, very complex individual who is, technically, not actually an individual. Her core personality is strong, cool-headed, independent, manipulative, coercive, quick thinking, highly frickin' intelligent, tactical, charismatic and determined. She is one force of a woman and if you should find yourself in her path? Be prepared to be knocked the hell down and flattened beneath her immense force of presence. She is not a person to be trifled with and she has the capability to make your life, quite literally, a living hell should she deem it productive for her needs and wants. This is the Brainy variant that you will most commonly hear about when people talk about the Regional Manager.
However, there is more than meets the eye with Ruth and it is because of this special trait of hers that she keeps her true face away from the public. She prefers to do her dealings with people from a distance but when left with no other alternative, she will get her hands dirty. This is where the rest of Ruth’s mind comes out to play. She suffers from having a divided mind and as such she has a second personality that brings out the brawn in our villainous Regional Manager.
This side of her has the ability to have a very murderous streak and I do mean that literally. If you threaten her or really push her to the brink of her patience and piss her off? Say hello to the afterlife or whatever the hell it is you believe in because you can be fairly certain you will never see this world again. (Unless the glorious leader GM decides that you get to live. Spoil sport.) It is an emotionally unstable personality that can sometimes find it difficult to be reasonable. When in this state of mind, Ruth is very one track minded in the sense that she wishes to destroy you in every single way imaginable and possible. She will make you suffer ten times over and then have you begging for your death.
Likes:
Feminine Attire
Books
Stationary
Crushing her enemies beneath her feet
Getting her own way
Slapping people across the face (“How you humans manage to stop yourselves from doing it more often is beyond me!”)
Breaking bones
Winning arguments
Dislikes:
Not getting her own way
Crushing her enemies between her fingers
Ruined books
People stealing her stationary
Going more than an hour without slapping someone across the face
Getting blood on her designer clothing
Power Rangers
Cats
Fears:
Losing her status
Failing to reach her aspiration
Having her mind altered unwillingly
Quirks: She clicks her tongue at her subordinates in moments of impatience, her fingers often drum on any hard surface when she is waiting, her eyes narrow when she is judging someone/something and she takes a long, deep breath when she is about to go all Iki’lek on your backside.
History: Ruth’s race is one of the dozens of alien species that are part of the conglomerate known as Galatec. It was after Galatec began spreading themselves into dozens of planets that the Iki’lek’s truly realised they were split so purely down the middle in terms of what they can do. So the Brains began to work on finding a way to create the perfect Iki’lek. They used whatever resources became available to them as Galatec spread throughout the galaxy to create the perfect hybrid of the two halves of their race.
Ruth was not the first iteration of this hybrid however. Oooh no no no, she was definitely not the first. She was the 42nd attempt and she was a complete accident, at least according to the scientists that created her. That was a long, long time ago so the specifics of it have all been compartmentalised in her mind and isn’t something she likes to dwell on too much. The experiments at that time of her life were hard and unforgiving but they allowed her to discover the powers and abilities that she has now. She was only reluctantly let go by the Iki’lek scientists when they were forced to explain what they were working on to the other alien species that also made up Galatec.
It was when she was discovered that Galatec chose to put her through various training regimens to master control over her excessive strengths and courses for business and management due to her increased intelligence. During her rigorous physical training and exhausting mental training it was discovered that Ruth had a very split personality. She was two entirely different people depending on what she was focusing on at the time. This could become a problem for Ruth if she ever completely loses control over herself. It was a stressful time for her as she worked to become the “woman” that she is now.
It was during high stress levels and the will to escape the constant work and training that Ruth discovered her ability to shapeshift. She wanted to be someone else and to get away without someone chasing after her. It took her some getting used to but she soon figured she could make herself look like anyone and anything so long as she focused on it in her mind firmly enough and essentially willed herself to be them. She took this opportunity to show Galatec she was useful for more than just her mind and muscles. They began using her to help settle new planets into their phase of “life”. As she could make herself look like one of the home planet species they figured it would be more appealing to hear from a “local” to how wonderful Galatec could be!
Galatec gave her the regional management position on New Earth the moment that they set foot on it. She has been there since the beginning and has been working hard to make everything run as smoothly as possible for Galatec.
Talents: Talking, feats if brute strength, crushing things, screwing with people’s minds via telepathy, hard worker, doesn’t give in easily, she doesn’t know when to quit in a fight.
Hindrances: Dealing with animals, running when she’s not wearing heels in human form, unable to swim, cannot deal with seriously high pitched noises.
Powers:
Shapeshifting – As far as she knows, she is the only Iki’lek hybrid in existence so she is unsure if this shapeshifting ability is due to her hybrid nature or because of the accident that caused her creation. She can change her entire appearance to anything that she wishes on an organic level but she cannot impersonate an existing person. Her appearances are always an amalgamation of features she has seen on various people/images etc.
Pain Inducement – Can induce pain, psychic torture through a mental link from about 10 feet away and the pain is much stronger when she is touching you.
Force-Field Generation – Can create telekinetic barriers to block various power attacks and physical weapons. (I won’t abuse this and will always let the GM decide whether or not the barrier does/can block attacks etc.)
Telepathy – Is able to read the minds of those around herself. She finds it easier to read the minds of those she has physical contact with but can read minds fairly well within the same room, however she is not limited to just this distance. She can read minds up to a 20 feet radius but the further the subject is to the edges of her zone, the less she can read clearly.
Psychometry – The ability to read the past of a non-sentient object through touch. She can see the past 24 hours of an object. Can get a sense for who has touched/used/been around various items/rooms.
Brute Strength – Can lift 20x her own weight
Telekinesis – Control objects with one's mind. Cannot move anything larger than a car door.
Equipment:
Power Gloves – Four that look identical but each have their own powers. (They’re pretty damn basic weapons in the grander scheme of things. But considering the powers she has, I didn’t want to go OTT.)
Heat Glove – Generates a high temperature on impact with a surface/person.
Cold Glove – Generates a low temperature on impact with a surface/person.
Vibro Glove – Causes vibrations on impact with a surface/person.
Smoke Glove – Allows a smoke cloud to be generated when a small button is pressed. Otherwise it is just an armoured glove that hits a tiny bit harder than a plain old fist.
Quotes: “Maggot.” “Take that filth out of my sight before I crush you.” “Watch. My. Lips.”
Theme Song: This. :)
Aspiration: Complete and utter domination of everything.
The setting sun beamed into the executive office space through the opened glass balcony doors. Floor to roof windows matched the doors and made the entire wall seem as though it weren’t even there. A large leather office chair sat at a magnificent mahogany desk. The chair was facing out towards the balcony that was situated right behind it.
A small, balding and fairly plump human male was standing in front of the desk, his hands wringing a very sweaty handkerchief out onto his highly polished black shoes. ”I-I… I can only apo-apolo-apologise L-l-lady Re-regional…” The man stumbled over his words as they tumbled from his mouth. The sound of drumming nails on leather came from the office chair that echoed around the now deathly silent room. The chair silently swivelled around to expose its occupant. The drumming abruptly stopped.
Ruthalia Morphento, Regional Manager of Galatec on New Earth, sat upon her throne and exuded importance without making a motion or a sound. Her hair was bundled upon her head in a sleek bun that made her face look more severe than usual. Her cherry red lips were pursed with irritation and her brow may not have showed a single frown line but there was most definitely a scowl heading towards the poor man before her.
“Apologies are for the pathetic. Are you one of the pathetic, Mr Grant? Don’t answer that.” Mr Grant gulped back his answer, his mouth hanging open until the moment that Ruth swiftly stood from her chair and began to walk around her desk. Her Jimmy Choo’s clicked on the marble flooring with each step until she stopped before the trembling form that was Mr Grant. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? Come, let us stand on the balcony.”
She did not wait for a response before she clicked her way out of the office. The balcony was rimmed with waist high, black coloured, steel edged, frosted glass fencing. The sun was low enough that the shadows of the other high rise buildings and skyscrapers were now casting shadows across the building. Mr Grant hurried behind Ruth and huffed as he reached the fence. He swallowed hard and saw how high from the ground they currently were, 55 stories from the ground.
“Let me explain what is going to happen, Mr Grant.” Hands clasped in front of Ruth as she rested them on the fence. She glanced to her right, watching Mr Grant as he puffed and panted. “You are going to pay for the mistakes you have made. You are going to thank me for this outcome and be grateful that worse didn’t happen to you.” Her entire body turned towards Mr Grant and a very sweet, unsettling smile spread across her face. ”Thank you for making this decision so easy to make, Mr Grant. I wish you all the best.”
Ruth’s right hand sprung forward and grabbed Mr Grant by the neck. He coughed and spluttered, his hands grasping at her delicate looking arm. His face began to turn red when she lifted him from the ground, his stubby legs dangled as she rose his body higher than the topmost edge of the balcony edging. ”Do enjoy your complimentary skydiving lesson, Mr Grant. Consider it part of your severance package.” One fluid swing of her arm and Mr Grant was no longer on the 55th floor. An echoing yell of despair and utter terror rang out and lessened to the smallest whisper before long.
Ruth made her way back into her office, closing the glass doors behind herself before settling behind her desk once more. A small yawn left her lips before she looked towards the door of her office. “Please send in my 4 o’clock.” Her thought rang out and the buzzer to her door rang out before the door opened to allow her next appointment to enter. A nervous, bespectacled woman shuffled in and looked around the room. There were no other exits from this office and the fear that spread over the woman’s face made Ruth’s face erupt into an ecstatic smile. “Please take a seat, Mrs Grant.” |
48,752 | 1,311 | 58 | 1,815 | 418 | Gajoon. Mable looked her manager in the face, her flushed complexion back to normal. "I'm fine, everything is fine. That was just a fan." Mable flashed a toothy grin and gave him a thumbs up. "How about instead of inking your pants you help me get this show started? The crowd has been waiting long enough haven't they?" She said. In truth she wanted to get the concert over with as soon as possible, as long as she was here she was basically in a cage. Something was about to happen in this city for once, and she was not going to miss it.
"Things are already ready, right? come on.~" | Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist)
Nickname/Alias: Mable
Race: Valiant
Age: 20
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: Female
Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples.
Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank.
Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts.
In The Mind
Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them.
Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause.
Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets.
Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone.
Fears: Failure, gloomy moods.
Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning.
Where They’ve Been
History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet.
She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec.
Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside.
Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability.
Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire.
Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out.
Equipment: Morpher??
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Peace and Love!"
Theme Song: N/A
Aspiration: Love and Peace!
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: ??
Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe
Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points.
Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact.
Powers: ??
Zords:
Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd.
This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!"
She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough.
Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming.
As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were.
The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away.
"Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim.
After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message.
'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.'
As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home. |
48,753 | 1,311 | 59 | 2,250 | 2,211 | The morphing sequences had been completed, leaving Samara a little more relieved than before. It was a bad time to back away now, but their hesitation was almost nonexistent. They were as ready as they were going to be. Samara offered a brief nod of appreciation to Clementine as thanks for her willingness to give Michael the message. Finally, the four had raced to the opened tunnel to come to Michael’s aid, leaving John and herself alone. As she turned to him now, his shaking did not come as a surprise. In fact, it was mutual. Samara was just as nervous as he was, but was just barely managing to keep it together better than her counterpart.
“Well we knew power might be an issue, but we couldn’t have guessed that we’d need to use it again so soon. All our chips were on them seeing the light in our struggle.” Samara confessed. She had factored in, with confidence, that getting at least five people there would be something their system was easily capable of handling. The problem was that they did not factor the possibility of a rebel attack, and how fast they’d need to get this new team into an important position as soon as possible. It was beginning to be a bad day.
As John had chosen to pace in thought, Samara turned on her heel and hustled back to her computer. Her mind raced with what limited ideas she could consider at a time like this. Drawing power from within the sensors might give them a boost, but the ability to traverse through the layers of rock with its radar was too valuable. With that system they could track the group even without the cameras aid, and they needed to know where the team would be at all times. Not to mention that was the direct means of locking them on for transportation. No good in removing the sensors to transport what they couldn’t easily target without them. Bad idea. It was really, really beginning to be a bad day.
She turned around once John mentioned a plan in mind, one that he did not enjoy and one that he guessed she wouldn’t either. Samara had an imagination, and in that imagination were horrible things John could suggest they do. Without dwelling on the possibilities, she'd steel herself for what was going to be true, and necessary to help the others. “I didn’t like the way Jonah spoke to us. I didn’t like how we couldn’t get a stronger power source, or a faster processing unit for the RDS. I don’t like a lot of things John, but we’ve done what we could. There’s no way to account for every possibility, or every threat.” she admitted, crossing her arms. “So if we put them in the fire on our behalf, we need to be prepared to do whatever we can to help them, even if that means joining them in the fire.”
Samara glanced to the open tunnel, wanting to take a guess before John came out with it. “What, we get some Oranium and use it as a power source while Galatec’s hands are full? Or is our job not nearly that easy?” | Samara Morgan
Name - Samara Morgan
Nickname/Alias - N/A
Race - Human
Age - 23
Ethnicity - African-American
Gender - Female
Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis.
Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend.
In The Mind
Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends.
She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest.
However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood.
Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right.
Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously.
Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames.
Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her.
Where They’ve Been
History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background.
One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed.
It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold.
It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking.
The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way.
Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising.
Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture.
Powers - N/A
Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone.
Bonus Round
Quotes - No.
Theme Song - Never.
Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary. |
48,754 | 1,311 | 60 | 2,305 | 2,032 | Clementine felt a rush of information flow through her mind, showing her what she could be capable of in the power suit. Of particular note was her ability to produce a blinding flash, as well as a spear made of light. However, lacking confidence, she reached instead for the firearm that was holstered at her belt, a defensive weapon that was short and easy to handle. She felt it in her palms, and despite having never held or fired a gun in her life, its easy-to-wield heft reassured her. She lowered her arms with both hands holding the gun, pointed at the ground and angled away from herself slightly in a pseudo-safe, pseudo-ready position. She looked to Jonah to lead the way. | Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title?
Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker
Race: Humany Human of Humaness
Age: 21
Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases.
Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth.
In The Mind
Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need.
Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things.
Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others.
Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black.
Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can.
Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts.
Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own.
Where They’ve Been
History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens.
Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free.
After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously.
It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him.
Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things.
Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger.
Powers: N to the A biatch.
Equipment:
Blue Photon Morpher
Red-Light-Emitting Necklace
Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools.
Ripped up miner clothes.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!"
Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Blue
Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying.
Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through.
Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means.
Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it. |
48,755 | 1,311 | 61 | 1,872 | 1,663 | A COLLAB BETWEEN WADE WILSON AND
Location: Dumas Mines
Interacting With: The Twins, Strange Voice In His Head Jackson looked around, confused. What was this voice talking to him? He eyed the Githkins currently working to fix the gas leak, but it was impossible to tell with those mouthless faces. Shaking his head, he tried to reassure himself that it was all fine - he was working for Galatec, life was great! With a newly recovered perkiness, he hopped off the drill, walking over to the twins again. “Hey, need any help?”
The twins glanced over to Jackson as he spoke, though Shawnee lingered just a bit longer while Sarah immediately returned to her work. “I appreciate it, but I think we've got this handled,” Shawnee said in a hoarse voice. The two had been communicating to one another all day and had to shout over the engines of Jackson’s driller. It was only natural they'd be a little hoarse.
Jackson… Hear me… There was that voice again.
Jackson did feel a pang of guilt that he was the one that had made the girls go hoarse - or, at least, the machinery he was handing - but smiled at them nonetheless. “Alright. Have fun!” His eye twitched and his voice quivered slightly as his strain to ignore the voice continued, but managed to walk back to the drill without going insane. ‘Go away, you’re not real!’ he thought, frustrated. He leaned against the machinery he’d been appointed to, grabbing his water bottle and taking a large gulp of it, clutching at the plastic with shaking hands.
The cleanup crew finished just as soon as Jackson had taken a big swig of his water. The head of the crew, a large and imposing black man, turned to face Jackson and spoke in a deep baritone. “We’re all finished here, son. Glad you didn't blow yourself to kingdom come. This was a close one. One big gas pocket, I tell you what. We’ll put this to good use heating houses.”
The man pat his suction machine as he spoke, some large device that resembled a cross between a vacuum cleaner and a hadron collider. That's when the supervising Githkin spoke up. ”Work!”
“Oh, no dallying. Later kid.” And thus the cleanup crew took off.
The boy had been quite intrigued as the man spoke, and bid him farewell once the Githkin were nice enough to remind them of what they were doing. He climbed back onto the drill, getting back to work and thinking happy thoughts, hoping he’d keep that voice at bay. No, he couldn’t even think about it. He was working with Galatec and got to use the drill! Yes, it was great. No voices, no badness, just a great day. His mind quickly thought back to how hoarse Shawnee’s voice was, and his brow furrowed, but he knew that he had to keep working. After all, who could not like working for such great people like Galatec? | Name:
Jackson Trent
Nickname/Alias:
Jack, sex on a stick (imo).
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
. |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.
Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills.
Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
The Power Rangers
White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
Protecting people
The greater good
Dislikes:
Galatec
His job
Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control
His parents being under Galatec’s influence
Fears:
Slipping back under Galatec’s control
Not being able to find the Power Rangers
Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
Dying on the job
Quirks:
He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?
History:
Freedom.
That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.
Until the Power Rangers.
At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”.
That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
Animalistic instincts & reflexes
Can see multiple approaches to a problem
Agile on his feet
A linear understanding of science
Apparently quite the singer
Hindrances:
His perpetual mood swings
He always sees the good in people
Can sometimes be quick to judge
Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people
Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
An old mining torch
A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
10 shirts
4 pairs of jeans
A pair of combat boots
A pair of old sneakers
An old scarf
A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
7 bottles of water
A sleeping bag
9 MRE kits
Quotes:
“Cross your fingers.”
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into. |
48,756 | 1,311 | 62 | 1,872 | 1,663 | The two regular githkin immediately moved to attack the rebel insurgent just as Drax ordered, while the elite stood back and observed, being of a more intelligent mold than its brothers. They charged forward with reckless abandon, fists upright and clenched, ready to punch through the man's body and out the other end. Only that's not what had happened. The man cracked off two shots, one for each. Plasma shot through the air and collided with the two githkin right in their faces, forcing them to collapse onto the ground and melt into the raw genetic ooze which created them. Clearly this man was a crack-shot, and not to be underestimated.
"Wrong choice, rusty." He fired off another shot, this one at Drax, but the plasma bolt had been intercepted by something else. The elite githkin released some kind of metal shield and used it to block for Drax. The plasma ate through and destroyed the shield, but it never even had the chance to come into contact with Drax's own defenses. The elites were truly a fantastic asset.
As Drax began to get moving again, KT took a running jump through the air and engaged the rebel. At that point Drax no longer had them on his sensors, but he could make out the man screaming, "We'll save you, commander!"
Rounding another corner, Drax found himself face to face with ten members of Division Alpha. These ones would not be to easily avoided it would seem, as they had setup a road block. A semi-translucent red energy field blocked Drax's path. Two of the rebels stood behind the field, operating a Galatec Energy Wall Projector V.3.1 (likely stolen in this attack), while the other eight stood in front of the field, each one brandishing a different weapon. They all stared down the robotic general with pure hatred, ready to engage.
"Roger that, ma'am," responded the newly Christianed Coco as his fingers tapped away at the keyboards around his station. Ruth could see the rebels he was referring to on the cameras, coming up Hallway 1B and rounding the corner. My my, they were getting dangerously close to the office, weren't they? Eight of them were only about 50 feet from the door when Coco initiated the security measures, and they found their mad dash suddenly, and painfully, halted.
A red energy wall projected in front of the group, and the first two collided directly with the new obstacle. They reeled back in pain, both from the sudden bludgeoning stop and from the searing heat that came from a hard laser wall. Only a mother could love those faces, once they were finished scarring. The rest were able to skid to a stop before they hit the wall as well, but nobody could escape the trap as a second wall appeared behind them. They were locked in.
"The terrorists have been contained, Miss Ruth," said Glen, a hint of fear in her voice. "How should we, uh, proceed?"
There were many options, of course. One command would compress the laser walls together. Another would electrify the floor, in both lethal and non-lethal settings. The automated turrets could put more holes in them than Swiss cheese. Then of course, there was always the option of approaching them in person from the other side of the cage. Ruth possessed a piece of technology that would allow her to pass through the energy walls unhindered, if she were so inclined. Ah, choices.
The githkin let out a roar of fury and charged forward, knocking the wagon aside with only a token amount of effort. On its hands were clawed gloves, a horrible weapon to be attacked with. Michael knew that something that wicked, combined with these creature's sheer strength and brutality, would mean one hit is all they'd need to end his life for good. Once the wagon was out of the way, it jumped straight for him, eyes narrowed in anger, right hand outstretched and ready to claw him.
Michael's surroundings were fairly bare. The wagon was knocked aside, but it did spill some of its contents in the process. Two large rocks, about the size of a basketball each, and two blasting sticks fell within reach. The area was open, allowing for a lot of room to maneuver. The fighting continued all around him, the nearest skirmish about 200 feet ahead of him.
The fighting they had seen on the view screen was some distance away from the room in which the rangers had met Samara and John. Those who had been around with some rudimentary knowledge of the facility might have even recognized that the area they were leaving was supposed to have been demolished and closed off months ago. Because of this, they had to run for nearly five minutes before they made any real progress in getting closer to their goal, but eventually they did indeed see something that let them know they were getting closer.
At a four way cross point in the tunnels, about thirty feet ahead of them, the rangers could make out three githkin engaged in battle with six rebels, though that number was quickly dropping. One rebel in the back was using an automatic rifle, and he seemed to be the only one capable of fending off the creatures with any success. Meanwhile the others were getting knocked aside, smashed, and beaten. Right as the fighting came into view, the rangers were treated to the lovely sight of a githkin using a rebel as a human shield against rifle fire. Now there was only three.
"Much as I would like to get some oranium, I'm afraid we don't have any equipment capable of harnessing and converting their power into a useable format for the RDS," John commented, turning toward his personal desk. He began riffling through it, until he finally pulled out a roll of paper and approached Samara once more.
"If they're going to put their lives at risk, I will have to do the same. I think it has to do with that concept of 'honor' your species has?" He unrolled the paper before Samara, revealing the contents to her. It was a full biological diagnostic of an alien species called Voltez, known for producing a large amount of bio-electricity. "I can hook myself to the generator to power it, and... Hope I don't fry myself in the process. I know, it's a stupid plan but it's all we've got."
Vroooom vroooooooom the drill continued to roar, cracking and tearing apart rock and stone. The entire machine vibrated almost violently as Jackson continued to dig through the rock. After another few minutes of drilling though, he could hear the voice of the twins, Sarah and Shawnee, struggling to yell over his machine.
"-ound... -thing big!" Sounds like they had made a pretty good discovery. The githkin ordered Jackson to shut down the drill so they could hear the girls. Thankfully he was able to listen to the great news as well! "We're detecting huge energy readings! The wavelengths look like oranium, but just a little different. I'm not sure what that is, but it's big!"
The githkin nodded, then gestured for Jackson to get off the driller. Once he had done so, the githkin would give him, the girls, and everyone else a pickaxe, then pointed at a thin vein of ore the girls had been so excited about. "Dig," it ordered.
And so they did. Woah momma, this seemed like the motherload of all oranium! Practically every rock Jackson knocked out of the wall was flush with ore. There was more ore than stone coming out! Maybe they'd get a bonus from this discovery, who knows?
Keep digging, Jackson. You're almost there.
After thirty minutes of intensive digging, something caught Jackson's eye. Something small was shining with a little glint, hidden amongst the dark stone and rich oranium ore. It looked like some kind of gemstone, or crystal, yellow in color but shining with a bright and illuminating light that shifted across the gem's surface.
"Stop!" Sarah ordered, moving in closer to Jackson's discovery. She held out the scanning device she had been using and waved it in front of the yellow gem. The energy readings were off the chart!
"Move," the githkin commanded, stepping in. It bent down on its knees and looked more closely at the little crystal, tilting its head quizzically. After a moment it reached out with two fingers and grabbed hold of the small artifact. This would, as it turned out, be the last act of the creature's life. Energy rushed through the githkin's body, then light, pure sunlight, blasted forth from all its pores. The creature exploded with a shower of sparks into a pile of genetic goop that splattered the wall opposite of the gem.
"What the... What just happened?!" Shawnee cried out, concerned and scared. The other miners were equally confused and frightened of this new development.
"Inking my pants?" Gajoon asked incredulously with a raised eyebrow. "Fine, fine. You're on in ten anyway. Final preparations are nearly done. Let's just make this a night to remember, alright?"
And a night to remember it was. Once Mable hit that stage she was welcomed by more fans than she'd ever had in any concert in her entire career. There had to be thousands of people cheering once those lights kicked on and her presence was illuminated. Then the music began and that cheering became a raving outcry of insane devotion. With every move, every gesture, every note she sang Mable incited screaming and cheering. It was enough to warm the heart... If the music wasn't totally bogus.
Fifty minutes passed and her first set was complete. There was a brief 2 minute break while the stage hands rearranged the props and equipment for her second set, which included setting up some holographic projectors and fireworks for the big finale. The big finale that had been forced on her only a few hours ago. This brief intermission was much like any other. She got a second to catch her breath, get some water, get accosted by a rabid fan wanting some of her hair, and change her outfit. In no time at all she was back on stage and singing for thousands of people.
Her second set was about the same length, but it was harder than the first set. Partly due to having already been performing under high powered hot lights for so long, and partly because the songs were more complex. That said, she nailed it just like she always did. Then the big climax. The beat kept moving faster and faster, the lyrics sped up and up. Holographic projections beamed out across the stage, acting as a picture representation of everything she sang about. Finally on the final upbeat fireworks launched into the atmosphere, exploding into the shape of a heart, accompanied by her signature phrase. Peace and Love.
The very second her big finale ended, the stage went dark and curtains began to close. That was unusual. Wasn't she getting a moment to take a bow and address the audience? That's when two figures in dark robes rushed at her from just off stage. Even though it was dark, Mable could clearly make out that each one was brandishing a knife, and the way they charged didn't look all too friendly... | Name:
Jackson Trent
Nickname/Alias:
Jack, sex on a stick (imo).
Race:
Human
Age:
25
Ethnicity:
Canadian, though no one would know what that means.
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
. |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green
Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about.
Clothing:
Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly.
Personality:
Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills.
Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives.
Likes:
The Power Rangers
White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea.
The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost.
Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before.
Protecting people
The greater good
Dislikes:
Galatec
His job
Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control
His parents being under Galatec’s influence
Fears:
Slipping back under Galatec’s control
Not being able to find the Power Rangers
Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents
Galatec defeating the Power Rangers
Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them
Dying on the job
Quirks:
He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right?
History:
Freedom.
That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly.
Until the Power Rangers.
At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”.
That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth...
Talents:
Extremely skilled with a tomahawk
Animalistic instincts & reflexes
Can see multiple approaches to a problem
Agile on his feet
A linear understanding of science
Apparently quite the singer
Hindrances:
His perpetual mood swings
He always sees the good in people
Can sometimes be quick to judge
Not exactly the one to sugar coat things
His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people
Powers:
None. Zero. Nil.
Equipment:
An old mining torch
A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day
10 shirts
4 pairs of jeans
A pair of combat boots
A pair of old sneakers
An old scarf
A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff)
7 bottles of water
A sleeping bag
9 MRE kits
Quotes:
“Cross your fingers.”
Aspiration:
To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into. |
48,757 | 1,311 | 63 | 2,301 | 766 | Adelram Drax
The enemy was desperate to resecure their VIP, and obviously Drax's objective was in direct conflict with theirs.
And so was Adelram's Drax's inner pre-fight pep talk: Your objective is on conflict with theirs, thus the enemy must be neutralized.
Swinging his backward extending, shield projecting hand around, he prepared for an energy blast. He pumped a few more pulses of energy into the shield, which was made obvious by the flashes of light and the increasing opacity of the bright yellow wall. Shlporn still in his hand, Adelram clenched his fist, gave the mental word, and the shield exploded outwards towards the rebel's shield wall.
Streaks of what looked like golden dust wizzed randomly though the air, and yellow "balloons" pushed themselves forward, popping in the sky or on the ground. But the majority of the blast was a projectile, shaped like a comet with a long tail that began in his clenched fingers. This dazzling sight lasted only a second, the streaks fizzled away and the balloons vanished, all that was left was the deadly bomb.
It would collide with the energy shield, damaging if not temporarily downing it. Either outcome would result in Drax unsheathing his handcannon and firing either at the shield or the rebels themselves. Five shots, before Drax twirled it around his fingers (speeding along the cooling process), and after a few seconds another shot or two would be weapon for firing again, which Drax would gladly fire at his enemies.
The android made no attempts to shield Shlporn from enemy fire, if anything he made it so the Accounting Director was more vulnerable, hoping to deter any wild shots at Drax. It may have been described as a risk, but Drax calculated the rebels worked off of emotion, they had a passion for their cause and wanted to "save" their own people rather than kill them. He attempted to take advantage of their weakness. | Name: GD-002-17
Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath
Race: Android/Robot
Age: 7
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: "Male"
Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form.
Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints.
His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder.
In The Mind
Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view.
When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords.
Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like.
Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike.
Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up.
Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission.
Where They’ve Been
History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax.
When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin.
He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him.
Talents:
Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down.
Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons.
He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander.
He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum.
He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent.
Hindrances:
He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck.
If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited.
Powers:
Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry.
Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain.
Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position.
Equipment:
Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers.
One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies.
Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time.
And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering.
He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air.
Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out.
Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision.
Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets.
Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload.
Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired.
Bonus Round
Quotes:
"..."
"The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%."
"..."
Theme Song: i dunno
Aspiration: File not found.
"Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure.
"The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun.
"Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight.
"This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply."
The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor.
The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail.
Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking.
Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up.
Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind.
When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere.
If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed.
He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level. |
48,758 | 1,311 | 64 | 1,815 | 418 | As Mable's final act in her concert concluded, she let out a sigh of relief. For once she actually had difficulty getting through a performance. While she danced and sung, her mind recalling the steps, timing, and lyrics, she was distracted by the message she had received from the silent githkin. She'd always had trouble focusing on something when she so badly wanted something else. That's why it took her a moment to realize that something was wrong. The curtains had begun to close, and the lights had been shut off. Such an instant change of tone was not befitting of a pop concert. Mable quickly looked around to gauge her surroundings, and saw two cloaked figures heading towards her holding knives. Her eyes widened, and she prepared to defend herself. She figured she could easily take them down, for all they knew she was just a weak popstar.
But perhaps she could keep up that facade a little longer...
"No, get away!" Mable screamed as loud as a trained singer could, and began to run away from her attackers. She led them towards the curtains, and turned to face them. As they got within striking distance she grabbed the curtain behind her and yanked it down, jumping backwards at the same time. The stage was in clear view of the crowd now, and here Mable was, on her behind crying as two people bore down on her with weapons.
"Someone help, they're going to kill me!" Mable cried out, flashing the cloaked individuals a grin as she backed into the crowd of faithful, and for once thankfully ravenous fans. | Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist)
Nickname/Alias: Mable
Race: Valiant
Age: 20
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: Female
Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples.
Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank.
Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts.
In The Mind
Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them.
Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause.
Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets.
Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone.
Fears: Failure, gloomy moods.
Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning.
Where They’ve Been
History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet.
She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec.
Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside.
Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability.
Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire.
Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out.
Equipment: Morpher??
Bonus Round
Quotes: "Peace and Love!"
Theme Song: N/A
Aspiration: Love and Peace!
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: ??
Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe
Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points.
Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact.
Powers: ??
Zords:
Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd.
This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!"
She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough.
Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming.
As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were.
The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away.
"Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim.
After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message.
'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.'
As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home. |
48,759 | 1,311 | 65 | 2,250 | 2,211 | It was a surreal experience for Tommy to walk through the tunnels, on the way to fight a bunch of githkin. He'd never held a gun in his life, and now he was reading training manuals on how to use this extremely powerful battle suit to deal massive damage. Apparently his suit was equipped with a special shield, different from the rest. It would be just like throwing a Frisbee, Tommy would get it in no time!... Except that he had never thrown a Frisbee either.
Tommy shook his head as he saw the githkin using the rebel as a human shield. No no, that simply would not do. He took a stance and expanded his shield, a large round thing that was large enough to cover almost his entire body and had a little slit for his gun in it. He almost tripped as he was surprised by just how large the thing was. Oh well, it was throw time!
"Yo, githkin assholes! Get ready to be... ugh, violently and unceremoniously incapacitated!" he said, as he threw his shield, aiming towards the neck of the githkin using the rebel as a shield. | Samara Morgan
Name - Samara Morgan
Nickname/Alias - N/A
Race - Human
Age - 23
Ethnicity - African-American
Gender - Female
Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis.
Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend.
In The Mind
Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends.
She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest.
However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood.
Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right.
Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously.
Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames.
Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her.
Where They’ve Been
History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background.
One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed.
It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold.
It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking.
The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way.
Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising.
Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture.
Powers - N/A
Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone.
Bonus Round
Quotes - No.
Theme Song - Never.
Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary. |
48,760 | 1,311 | 66 | 2,305 | 2,032 | As Clementine ran with the other Strike Force members, she noticed how easy it was with the power suit on to move at a speed that normally would have winded her in less than a minute.
When they arrived at the junction, Clementine flet her blood run cold. She had seen Githkin dispatching rioters on the news before, but they had only ever showed a bare minimum of Githkin tactics, giving the impression that the Githkin were controlled, surgical, almost pacifist in their tendencies. To suddenly be on the receiving end of Githkin tactics, tactics that were revealed to be far more brutal than she had ever believed, had her quaking slightly.
Yet Tommy showed tremendous courage, flinging his shield at one of the Githkin. This act inspired Clementine somewhat, but instead of understanding the tactic of focusing fire on single targets, Clementine didn't wish to accidentally shoot the rebel that the Githkin was holding (even though that rebel was probably already dead), and aimed at another of the Githkin with her pistol. Clementine mentally reminded herself that Githkin were merely constructs, nothing more than nanomachine creations without minds, without lives, despite how organically realistic they looked. Clementine fired two shots in quick succession, the shots leaving the muzzle of her pistol comfortably; the gun was designed to mitigate recoil and preserve her aim for subsequent shots. | Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title?
Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker
Race: Humany Human of Humaness
Age: 21
Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases.
Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth.
In The Mind
Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need.
Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things.
Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others.
Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black.
Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can.
Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts.
Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own.
Where They’ve Been
History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens.
Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free.
After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously.
It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him.
Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things.
Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger.
Powers: N to the A biatch.
Equipment:
Blue Photon Morpher
Red-Light-Emitting Necklace
Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools.
Ripped up miner clothes.
Bonus Round
Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!"
Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Blue
Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying.
Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through.
Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means.
Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it. |
48,761 | 1,311 | 67 | 1,966 | 2,601 | Michael Sonnen
Things felt accelerated now. Michael thought that it would seem different but something about the Githkin actually charging him had hot-wired his mind. He processed things clearer but time had not slowed like it seemingly had before. With his mind dead-set on taking out the demonic thing he caught sight of the explosives and fell into a deep focus he had only experienced a few times in his life. It made things... easier, he always thought to himself. Aiming the pistol towards the blast sticks near the wagon, Michael shot off three bullets towards it.
When fighting devils... everything is a risk, He told himself harshly, already making plans for his next move. | Name: Michael Sonnen.
Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother).
Race: Human.
Age: 20.
Ethnicity: African American.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye.
Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences.
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In The Mind
Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious.
Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions.
Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal.
Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different.
Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs.
Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined.
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Where They’ve Been
History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think,
This isn't right...
Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought.
Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off.
His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered.
"Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-"
It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself.
Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often.
Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it?
Powers: None.
Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner.
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Bonus Round
Quotes: "We fight for today!"
Theme Song: Throne
Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation: Red
Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung.
Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently.
Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets.
Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes.
Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty.
"Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you."
She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that.
By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic.
His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on.
Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening.
Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns.
"Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself. |
48,762 | 1,311 | 68 | 1,285 | 468 | Information was a plus, mental tampering was a minus but god if anything he had to say was going to get through to his current company. He wasn't surprised that no one questioned the very high chance that there new benefactor may of just altered their memories, not like he'd be able to tell which meant it was something to throw to the back of his mind and onto the large list he was compiling called “Things To Check Later”.
In what actually mattered concerning the current scenario, Jonah made use of his vision to peer into the darkness before them. He could already see the upcoming enemies and began to plan accordingly. Three Githkin, one using the basic tactic of human shield (not his preferred method of defense since they always struggled and weighed him down) and eliminating their rebel enemies in quick fashion. Switching to X-Ray had him scanning the remaining rebels, only three were still alive and the human shield was not one of the few to go un-sacrificed.
Three targets, I’ll strike them down before they can see me. Activating stealth mode.
With a thought he flashed a different color, blending into the dark shadows of the cave as he hit a somersault across the dirt and disappeared behind a set of stones. As he planned for a silent attack, the others took the chance at a direct assault.
A hostage situation and these two decide to charge in without a plan, perfect...
He'd have to be ready for what happened next... | Name: Jonah Fallen
Nickname/Alias: No
Race: Human
Age: 21
Ethnicity: East German on his mother's side, Russian on his father's side. He's also part polish and 1/15th Indian(not Native American) from his great grandmother.
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Jonah is a light skinned male standing at 6'1 with toned muscles from working and his training. He has dirty blonde hair that he likes to keep short and sweet blue eyes that are usually seen sharpening at things he finds annoying. Along with those penetrating blues, he wears a set of thick rimmed glasses and keeps a small “glasses cleaning kit” in his pocket when ever maintenance is required. Despite working out daily, he appears as an average looking young man when wearing long sleeves since he focuses more on toning his muscles rather than having huge ones. His slightly chiseled features are smooth but he has some hair on his stomach.
Clothing: He likes to keep things simple so he'll often be seen in a plain shirt and some jeans, he doesn't lean towards one color over the rest but is often seen in black or blue since his mother used to tell him it fit him best. He prefers short sleeved shirts and long pants but will change that up if it becomes uncomfortable to move in. For that same reason, he often sports sneakers as they are easy to move around in.
In The Mind
Personality: Jonah has an independent personality, he strives to be the best he can be because that's all he knows how to be. He keeps a cool head under pressure and always does his best to figure out the best solution to the problem at hand. He doesn't believe in good or evil, stating that all things are objectively of the same value. Often quiet unless spoken to, Jonah keeps an air of contemplation about himself and makes a note to distance himself from others so that they don't become a liability. While this method can supply an incredibly sturdy strength, Jonah's logical outlook can at times give way to his inter turmoils.
See, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he is not always as cool as he thinks he is. While strong and independent, Jonah's attempts at apathy hides the fact that he does care about the people around him. His emotions are often the one thing he believes holds him back but they often supply more to his motives than he'll let on. Never to show fear, never to admit defeat, Jonah's logical thoughts can turn to mush when faced with having to deal with some of his inner-demons.
Likes: Books that make you think about things. Silence.
Dislikes: Stupid people. Self righteousness.
Fears: That his rationality is just cowardice, that he's simply avoiding his greater emotions and is a hypocrite for telling people to not be controlled by them when he's letting them force him to flee from himself.
Quirks: He loves to read, mainly books on philosophy which can sometimes overlap with books on strategy though most books on the art of war were destroyed. When upset or feeling unhinged, he'll take to cleaning his glasses to regain a form of control over his person.
Where They’ve Been
History: Jonah grew up in a small apartment in a not-so-friendly part of the city. It wasn't perfect but he had what he needed. His parents, on the other hand, were not quite as okay with their arrangement as he was. Starting from the womb, his parents pressured him to be the golden-child that would sky rocket them to the big times!
Whether it was mathematics or sports, Jonah was told that he had to succeed to make life worth living for his family. He followed every rule but still slipped up, receiving negative reinforcement when he did so. But, eventually, he began to catch his stride. He started winning soccer games and getting A's on his tests and suddenly the negative reinforcement stopped. He was happy, his parents were happy, everything was better.
Until he started hating his activities, started getting tired of waking up and never doing the things he wanted. At first, he hated this turning in his stomach because he loved his parents but he still couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him so mad at them some times.
He didn't have friends to talk to so he sought knowledge in his books. The library was a short walk from his home so he'd spend as much time as he could just reading.
He had a love for philosophy and thinking and used ideals he learned to come to the conclusion that what was happening to him wasn't a bad thing, it was just a “thing” and that him giving way to subjective beliefs was what was causing him problems internally. Eventually he began to distance himself from his parents until he didn't see them as his parents anymore, he saw them as just another problem. By the time he was ten years old, he had developed a form of detached apathy, a learned behavior he adopted to keep his emotions in check. Suddenly, he didn't smile as much. He didn't laugh at all and he didn't speak quite as much as he used to. He was only a child but he got better at rationalizing with age and by the time Galatec seized complete control, he was already stead-fast in his thought process.
Besides, honestly, life didn't really change when they arrived, not for him any way. His parents went to work and left him with his books, though the material was now more about how to serve the greater good than anything else. They confiscated his other books on philosophical thinking and mathematics, apparently those were “dangerous books that brought about dangerous thoughts”. He grew up in that situation, unaware of how much the world was going to continue to change.
Time went on, and just as he thought, people began to cope with the change. It had been years, and like all things that occur, what was once “horrible tragedy” became “yesterday”. Life was in a constant state of flux and he wouldn't let such a fact break his concentration.
His mother, now a widow after the passing of her late-husband, pushed Jonah to make a name for himself in the new society, she saw that he was different than everyone else now and thought she could bank on it. Jonah agreed because he didn't want to be thought of as expendable, besides, working hard was how he made it through life, keeping his center is how he survived. He had to keep a rational mind and continue moving forward.
And that's exactly what he did.
He began working as soon as possible, Galatec didn't care about age so long as their workers knew what they were doing. Eventually, he stood out and worked his way up, volunteering for the riskier parts of the job until he was being looked at by the higher ups. He refused to sit idle, not for honor or pride but because he knew that he only got one chance at life, knew what it meant to waste time and effort.
Through it all, he kept his composure. He rationalized everything he saw, closed his eyes and reminded himself about the philosophies he put his trust in because that's all he had to stand by. Maybe he had problems with the blank eyes of some of the other workers, maybe he would be up at night, trying to see why his own eyes still flickered with life, maybe he wondered about the girl he once saw with the same eyes as him. But that didn't matter, work mattered, staying alive mattered. “You don't get second chances at life.” He reminded himself on those nights. “Galatec is in control, there is nothing you can do, don't be illogical, keep yourself centered...” Like that, every day. “What is is, and what is not is not.” They were truths, he could rely on truths. He just couldn't stand with them in his entirety. After all, he was still human.
When the opportunity arose, Jonah volunteered for bodyguard duty, knowing that it meant he'd be given martial training and hoping it would supply a better standing for himself and, by extension, his mother. He was healthy enough, had a strong build from staying fit so he didn't have much trouble being selected. His training went by pretty easily as he took rather well to punching things into submission, perhaps due to some seriously repressed rage?
Whose to say?
After the initial adrenaline of letting loose for the first time wore off, he began practicing more at home, honing his reflexes as best he could. While not a god of the martial arts, he was able to prove himself worthy enough to stand guard for some big shots in the corporation. It didn't involve much, just watching and waiting for anything to slide by, a pretty simple procedure. As time went on, he did his work well, making a small name for himself with the others in his profession. It was an easy life really, easier than manual labor though how he trained at home, you'd think other wise but he still felt an unease about himself .
One of which was when he first met a member of the rebels, a group that had yet to come to terms with what was and tried to ruin the status quo. Didn't they understand the feedback of what they were doing, how nothing changed but the amount of panic they caused to minor citizens?
He had been on a regular patrol when he saw one, a rebel running from some other guards. He moved to assist but noticed that he recognized her, she was the girl with eyes like his, eyes still flickering with life. He wasn't sure why, but he let her pass, let a dangerous rebel pass by without a fight. She looked at him at as she ran by, first with confusion and then with a small smile continued on her way. He didn't realize it until turning around to see his reflection in a window, didn't even recognize the unfamiliar sensation...
But he had a smile on his face as he watched her disappear around a corner....
After the encounter, he moved out of his old home and got a small apartment, feeling that the connections he had were clouding his judgment. Something about having to see his mother's eyes made him nervous so by 20 he was gone. Before he left, he promised her that he'd keep doing his best, though he didn't see the point in the ritual since he planned to do so anyway. His life was steady, to a degree but all of that, his worries and his real desire, came to a front when he was faced with a life changing decision.
It had been so normal, training had gone well and nothing out of the ordinary had shown up as he escorted his charge through the street. Until suddenly, everything went to hell. Someone blew a bullhorn and a fire erupted on his left, a bit distraction for the person running towards the target, his charge. The attacker, a masked assailant ran in a panicked frenzy with a scream of desperation. They were part of the rebellion. Obviously, the attack failed, Jonah struck their weapon to the ground before a sharp low kick knocked away their legs and they were falling to ground. The assailant scrambled to their feet and began to scurry away, Jonah gave chase and they made their way all the way out to the coal mines.
“Stop chasing me!” The assailant shouted as they jumped into the large ditch where the entrance was located. The masked fighter tripped on their landing and fell with a huff. As Jonah followed suit, landing in a roll, the attacker made one last lunge that Jonah quickly put a stop to when he threw them to the ground with one arm twisted behind their back. “Let me go!”
“You are weaker than me, you should have been prepared for this outcome.” He responded as he pulled off her mask to reveal....
The girl with eyes like his.
Yes, the girl he had let go earlier came back, the one he used to see when he thought about the life he was living came back after failing once already. Why did she come back, why didn't she learn her lesson and why was he thinking about letting her go again. Why did seeing this person fighting still make his heart stop a second, make him think about what he could be doing differently.
“I know you, you're the guy who let me by the last time.” She said in realization.
“And you're the one who was dumb enough to go and come back after getting a second chance at life.” He responded, deadpan as he pulled her to her feet.
“What point is there to life if you can't make your own choices?” She retorted with a strange fire in her eyes. She broke out of the grip and glared at him. “You and I have the same eyes you should see things a lot clearer.”
“Don't you understand, the war's already over.” He responded coolly. “This isn't your last pitch effort to save the world, we're not one city away from being under their control and you aren't the last key to the puzzle.” His steely blue eyes cut through her. “We've lost, the invasion you're trying stop? That's come and gone and people have moved on with their lives, what is is and what is not is not so stop living in a fairy tale world and get it together or you won't even have a life to cry about.” Those were the facts, the rebels should know that. Galatec was already in control, there wasn't a war to fight anymore, all that was left were lives to live as best as possible. Throwing yourself into a self-righteous ideal only serves to get you killed and there's no coming back from that. “Clearly, it was a mistake to let you go, I won't make it again.”
“Okay,” She still had a smile on her face though. “than why am I not being turned in right now?” And then he had to be quiet as her smirk grew. “Why do I know that you're never going to turn me in?” She walked up close and never broke eye contact. “It's because you know what they'll do to me, don't you?”She took a step forward and he took one back. “You get how that's wrong, and you care.” She stepped passed him and he turned his head but didn't move to stop her. “Ya know, a guy like you could do something if he wanted, way more than me.” She climbed out of the hole before turning to look down at him and give a quick and playful salute. “Maybe stop trying to make sense of the situation and find out what you really believe, you're a human so you should act like one!” She ran off around yet another corner, leaving him to his thoughts.
“Crap..” He said to himself.
Why did he let her let go...again!?
Why did he smile the last the time, why doesn't he feel bad about doing it now? Maybe it was an idiotic thing to give up on the ideals of right and wrong, maybe he had been idiotic about a lot of things. He had tried doing it his way for as long as he could remember, it was how he survived but was surviving and living the same thing or was he making them the same so he could deal with the situation? What were his real motives for his way of thinking, how much was logic and how much was fear?
He stood there at the entrance of the mine, thinking to himself about what he'd do next.
Talents: Logical thinking, more than anything else. Jonah may be good at fighting but that's a skill, his true talent, which could be considered the back bone of all his skills, is his logical mindset which gives him the ability to strike precisely and plan accordingly.
Hindrances: Empathizing, holding his temper, admitting he was wrong, and expressing himself.
Equipment: Morpher(Blue Ranger). A normal combat knife he keeps on him for special occasions and his glasses/glasses cleaning kit.
Bonus Round
Quotes: “What is is, and what is not is not.”
Theme Song: nope
Aspiration: To find out what he really wants in life.
It’s Morphin’ Time!
Color Designation:Violet
Primary Weapon:THE PHOTON BOW
The photon bow is a light based, long bow that generates arrows of pure energy to strike down its target. The bow is capable of firing multiple arrows at once with its average maximum being four unless overcharged (which will result in a rain of twelve arrows before the weapon is forced to recharge). By turning the bow, one can focus the arrows into one incredibly condensed and narrow blast, but this attack takes a lot of time to charge which leaves the archer open to attack.
As each attack's quantity and quality are affected by both how long and in what way a person pulls back the bow string, the bow is not for the clumsy or undisciplined. It takes timing and calculation to bring out this weapon's maximum potential.
Energy Shield:
His shield is a circular shape, perfect for blocking attacks. It's a very nice shade of purple and glows in the dark.
Blaster Design: Silver trim, black trigger, mostly violet. It has a sleek design with the gun's barrel having a thin line of silver across its top. The actual muzzle is the same pitch black as the trigger and there's a neon line of green running along the side of the gun.
Powers: As the violet ranger, Jonah has the ability to see across all spectrum of sight. He makes calculations on how to strike next by scanning people's bodies with X-Ray vision and using infrared, he has the ability to shoot people down and fight accurately in the shadows. Along with X-ray and infrared, Jonah can see UV light and Radio waves along with much more. With vision beyond an eagle's, Jonah can strike down any opponent with deadly precision.
Zords:N/A
Jonah stood behind a lone tree with his binoculars set to night-vision, the darkness only lightened by the stray strands of the moon.. He had set up his sting in a small park for kids, surrounded by small shrubbery and a few trees all of which was going to be demolished soon. Across from him stood the construction zone where they were working on a 20 floor parking garage. As if the world needed more places for Galatec to park their fancy vehicles.
He was there because there had been a report of beasts getting loose from the science division, a few Githkin test subjects had broken out of the lab and ran off into the city with a few people commenting on seeing them in the park at night. No one was advised to stay indoors because Galatec didn't want panic to ruin their precious balance which meant the people of the city were being left high and dry. Instead, curfew was moved up to 9:00 pm, lucky there weren't any encounters in that short amount of time. But now, night had fallen and anyone not in doors was a target which didn't seem to matter as there had been no sign of any people for awhile.
Jonah wasn't sure if he was happy or sad about that.
In this part of town there was always someone trying to get one over on you, he remembered hearing gun shots from his window from time to time, now he doesn't hear anything, no crimes, no muggings just the silence of night.
“Every thing's so peaceful now.” He thought to himself as he watched the area. It was nights like these where he was the most conflicted. He was about to stop a few monsters that could kill a lot of people but he wasn't sure if the city has ever been safer than it is now. Nights like these could happen every day, a few Githkin escaping every night and it might not even make a dent in Earth's war torn history. This was one of the main reasons he couldn't except the other ranger's idea of a righteous victory, he couldn't say that Galatec wasn't a benefit to earth as a whole. He certainly got higher in this society than his background would have allowed him to before, there wasn't much prejudice or pollution or war. Just work and while that might be boring he couldn't say that weren't plenty of people who should only have that option in life.
*rustle*
His gaze instantly went to a bush on the opposite side of his hiding place. His hand went for his morpher but he didn't move, he wouldn't till he confirmed his target. As he watched, two figures popped out of the bush, they looked around warily before fulling stepping out into the moonlight, revealing their small frames.
Children, two of them, they walked around as if trying to find something. The first was about twelve while the other was at least 13.
Jonah didn't move from his post but instead used his binoculars to scan them closer. He noticed that they weren't frightened, instead being rather resolved. Judging by their hooded attire, they must have planned to be outside tonight. Hooded children out scouting the night sky with an emotion in their eyes, they must be part of the .5% meaning..
They were rebel scouts.
“Great, just what I needed.” Jonah scoffed to himself, obviously not thrilled with the idea of having to deal with another rebel problem. Those guys really need to start leaving things to the professionals. Not that he was any more of a professional than they were but he definitely had more combat training. Luckily they didn't spot him as he hid in the shadows, to bad a very aggressive group of something had the duo in their sights.
The rogue Githkins, five of them. The creatures moved toward the children and they screamed. The scout duo clearly hadn't had access to the same reports that his team had. The younger child ducked behind the eldest but still held some form of courage as the creatures drew nearer. The first Githkin raised it's hand to strike but the blow was offset by a timely thrown stone that knocked it's hand off course. The beast quickly turned to identify the attacker only to be met with a larger stone striking it in the face, in fact they were all being pelted with stones, most at their legs and ankles but a number of them aimed at their eyes and face.
The children were initially scared but then became rather perplexed when they saw their would-be attackers being pelted. They stood there curious before a glimpse of a figure in the shadows ushering them to escape had them nodding and running back into the bushes, leaving as fast as they had come.
“Perfect.” Jonah thought within the shadows. “They didn't see my face and I managed to sit some of those idiots in the eye.” He quickly scanned them over, three of the five still looked like they had a decent control of their faculties. “Even blind, that's still too many for my liking, I'll have to fight them on my terms if I wanna win.”
And then he remembered the construction yard.
“That's it.” He dashed out of the foliage to close the distance between him and the Githkin, Shocked at first, one made a fierce swing he ducked and rolled under before popping up to his feet in between the two blinded by stones. He deflected a left hook with an open palm before his leg whipped up to kick both eye damaged Githkin's in the chest, leg swinging back and forth between the two of them.
"As I thought." The attack merely stunned them and soon the others were on him as well, swinging violently as he back flipped away and skidded to a stop. “That's right, your enemy's right here,” He cockily saluted before running into the parking garage shadows with the Githkin's hot on his trail. “Alright,” He swiped his hand over his wrist and his morpher flashed
“Strike force, flash forward!”
In the parking garage on level three, the Githkin's crept. Deep into the shadows they lurked, foot steps echoing in the hollow space, often turning at the sight of a shadowy gray figure passing by them like a phantom. Their eyes scanned the area for their prey but to no avail. As they passed by a pillar of stone, a sound, a click, had them halting in surprise. They lay unaware of who was on the other side.
"X-Ray activated..."
Jonah, donned in dark purple armor of his ranger form stood with bow drawn. The dim light of the bow focused and tightened as the arrow of light condensed.
"Focusing rate: 100%"
The creature's pondered as they began to take a step closer to the pillar of stone.
"Firing..."
Jonah released the bow string and the arrow shot through the stone pillar and the skull of the Githkin on the other side.
The other soldiers went frantic on the defense when their companion turned into ooze but Jonah was already moving.
"Infrared activated."
His vision swapped out and suddenly he could see all of them clearly as they scrambled in the darkness. He pulled his bow string back before dashing out of his hiding place in a dive roll, landing on one knee with bow drawn and arrows already appearing between his fingers. He let it loose, just as the nearest Githkin began to notice his presence, and littered its body with three arrows to its chest. It screeched before dissolving and suddenly he couldn't hide anymore. They closed in but Jonah was already readying his bow as they rushed him.
“Here we go..”
He dashed backwards as one came down on him with a punch that cracked the concrete. As it moved to continue its rampage, he released a charged arrow through its chest before running up to back-kick it into the others and fire another three arrows into the group. As they scrambled to regroup in the shadows, he switched to X-Ray and scanned them for damage.
“That last attack was on stun but the one in front received most of the damage and can't move, I'll focus my attacks on the two left as the weakened one slows them down.”
By the time he finished his thought they were on him again. He back-flipped to dodge a high swing and side stepped the flying kick from another, striking the attacking Githkin with his bow before having to dash backwards and avoid the mighty swing of the weakened Githkin. He returned to the fray with a flying knee that struck the weakened Githkin in the chest, knocking it into one of its companions and freeing Jonah to strike down the one now left alone.
It moved to attack but he back-flipped away to skid across the ground with bow drawn. As the arrow charged, he dodged the incoming blows from the Githkin soldier; ducking and weaving past each punch, smacking away the clumsy kick that followed with a high kick of his own and bringing up his bow before releasing it at point blank range to turn the soldier's skull into gray goop and watching as the rest of its body dissolved.
Just as the other two Githkins managed to center themselves and go for a retaliation, his purple suit turned dark gray and he faded back into the shadows. Like a phantom, he circled them as he slid from pillar to pillar in the darkness. With a steady hand he pulled back his bow string and two arrows appeared between his fingers. The light of the arrows released a light shine as they began to glow.
And then he was dashing forward
He released the two arrows, hitting the back of the weakened Githkin's legs and making it buckle to its knees. As it went to get up, Jonah ran up its back and used it as a spring board to become air borne with bow string drawn. Before the other Githkin could think, it was struck with three stun arrows to the chest and Jonah was closing the remaining distance with a flying kick that had it skidding backwards. As the Githkin stumbled to regroup, Jonah hit the ground in a roll, landing right below the soldier on one knee with bow pointing straight up.
"Firing."
He released and the concussive force smashed into the Githkin's jaw, sending it flying up into the air and falling to the ground with a splat. Standing to full height, he turned, fingers already pulling back his bow string. He casually walked by the remaining drone and with out looking, let go the arrow of light between his fingers.
The last thing it heard was the whirl of energy....
Jonah breathed heavily as his ranger form shattered out of existence. He had been lucky, the obstacles in the unfinished parking garage gave him ample back up for his strategy. Had he been left in the open, the tide could have very well changed to their favor but what could have been wasn't really important now. By hook or by crook he was still alive and the kids were still alive, that was all that mattered now.
He sighed to himself, heart still racing from the exertion. He waited for a moment to steady himself before he retrieved the item he had been hiding in the back of his pants. A flare gun, simple but elegant in its design. He pointed the weapon up at the sky and fired. The flare flew high into the sky before exploding like a fire work.
“That'll get Galatec's attention.” He noted. Now notified in as proper a way as possible, the corporation could retrieve their lost and unstable experiments. Jonah wasn't totally pleased with the idea of assisting someone he had designated as his enemy but he couldn't clean this up on his own and Galatec had better facilities for the alien soldiers albeit slave ready more than anything else. “I guess that means the mission's over.”
“Time to head back to base.” |
48,763 | 1,312 | 0 | 1,664 | 553 | Bradley blinked open. He sat up in his bed and glanced around. He was a little nervous. He was supposed to be meeting with a contact this afternoon - a supplier. If things went well, he could considerably enhance his profits. He was sort of low on money, himself, most of his money had gone to either his mother's healthcare or the supply of his products.
He wasn't sure what to expect from his contact. He'd heard very little. In fact all he had really heard was that they were elusive and pretty serious and that they could make a considerable difference to the amount of money he was making, and what his colleagues were making.
He stood up and approached his windows and drew back the curtains. It was early. Maybe 5AM. He hadn't really slept. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe he just needed some coffee. He got up, washed and changed and headed to the kitchen. He couldn't see Cat anywhere. She was probably still in bed. He made himself a coffee before walking over to the rusty old balcony on the exterior of his apartment, pushing open the glass doors to get there.
Digging in to his pocket, he found a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and put it to his mouth, sighing through each puff of smoke, taking a sip of coffee every now and then as he gazed over the cityskape. It was early, but as busy as ever.
Who knee what would take place today. All Brad could hope was it would go well. | Bradley Marchetti
-----
Age:
21 years old
-----
Gender:
Male
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Appearance:
Bradley is considered relatively tall, beating that national average at 6'0 dead. He has a natural liking for athletic activites and some spare time to work out means that he is in good shape. His skin is quite tan due to his father originating from Italy, though it is not too different from the skin tone he would have anyway as he lives in a fairly hot area. He has brown hair that is usually cut short. He shaves often, but if he happened to miss one, he would no doubt grow thick stubble. His eyes are dark brown. His choice of clothing is very casual and typical for someone his age, his wardrobe consisting of an array of simple t-shirts, hoodies, jeans and other things of that ilk.
----
Personality:
Whilst Bradley appears to have quite a standoffish and harsh attitude, it is merely a sign of the fact that he prefers not to converse with strangers. To people who do not try and make unnecessary conversation with him, Bradley is perfectly fine and his behaviour toward them would not warrant a second thought, though he tends to be quite cold and harsh with anyone that tries to waste his time. He is not really an asshole, but it is the way he acts to most people as most of the people he meets are also assholes. He is, in general, very relaxed and thoughtful, saying only what needs to be said and rarely getting over exited. He finds it very easy to talk with those close to him, and is very kind and friendly with them, contrasting greatly with his general persona. His calm attitude means that he is more reasonable than most in stressful situations, keeping a level head and making sensible decisions - though this can quickly change if someone threatens or attacks someone close to him, which would probably lead him to kick their ass. Once close with someone, he is unwaveringly loyal and will always be straight with them (unless being straight with them would hurt them.) His loyalty could mean that he could be manipulated.
----
Likes:
Freedom, music, reading, loyalty, necessary violence*, tranquillity, cars, sports, travelling
----
Dislikes:
Crowds, tight spaces, unnecessary violence*, unfairness, most people, dishonesty, disloyalty
----
Biography:
Diego Marchetti was born in Palermo, Italy in the 60s. After twenty years of mediocrity, he packed his things and left home - migrating to New York to seek greater opportunities, charmed by the idea of the american dream. He did not find it so fantastic when he arrived however, covering a span of jobs before maintaining a job as a taxi driver. The only positive thing he found in America, in fact, was a young woman named Cynthia who he would fall in love with an eventually conceive a child with in the early 90s. Unfortunately for the both of them, Diego was shot dead by local criminals after he got involved in some of their business. Diego died two months before Cynthia gave birth to their son, Bradley. Cynthia, heartbroken and left to raise a child alone, moved to California, unable to face the city in which her lover was mercilessly shot down in, holding fears that Bradley could see the same fate one day.
Without a father and with a mother who was what could only be described as mentally depressed for the majority of his childhood, Bradley didn't have it easy. His mother was loving to a degree, but he was often left to his own devices as she spent most of her time either working or dating some random person she had just met - which rarely worked out. His mother must have had hundreds of relationships over the years, and only two had lasted for more than twelve months, both resulting in short-lived marriages. Bradley never really had a chance to be taught the ways of life, so he learnt it himself. When he wasn't in school he was out on the streets getting involved in all sorts of shit.
Bradley learned fast in school. He took in information like nobody else. His issue was translating that to paper, so he did quite poorly early on. His teachers saw him as a fool, and treat him as if he were one. As a result he lost any passion he had for learning and fell in to a downward spiral of learning, failing most tests that came his way, shutting off his mind in class and putting his headphones in. He was once a kind and respectful boy, but after being pushed around by both his fellow peers and teachers as well as having to face the cold hard world, his attitude changed, making him sceptic, unfriendly and quite distant. He went from being the kid that always wanted to answer the questions to the kid that sat at the back of the class and never spoke.
He would put all his energy on to his exploits out of school - he got involved with gangs. He robbed stores, stole peoples wallets, fought on the streets. He got a lot of cool stuff over the years, but it was all dirty money. Nothing he did was morally sound. He felt bad about it, but he did it anyway. He almost got killed on two occasions - one leaving him with a permanent knife scar down his arm. He struggled through school, barely scraping his way out of it by the end. He moved out and spent most of his times sitting in smoky rooms with his friends, listening to music and passing a joint around whilst doing nothing productive at all - occasionally going out and robbing someone to keep the supplies of weed.
When he was 18, he discovered that his mother had cancer. It was not necessarily terminal, but the doctors said it was a possibility that she could be facing death in the next couple of years. Bradley's whole outlook on life fell in to doubt. He realised he was leading a petty, disgusting life. He had been hurting others for no reason. Causing trouble for the hell of it. He left and tried to find a way to live his life as a good citizen. At 19 years old after several months of living this lifestyle and getting very little done, Bradley saw his mother's health deteriorate quickly. He demanded that she leave work, which she did. He then found himself having to care for her and himself. He had some money that he had accumulated over the months, but he didn't have a good job to maintain the money coming in.
He was too deep to leave his life of crime, but he wasn't too deep to change his haphazard ways. Maybe he couldn't turn his back on crime, but he could turn his back on causing suffering for his own benefit. He looked for a way to earn a good amount of money without harming innocents - a victimless crime: dealing weed. He found a supplier and started small, earning very little for the amount of effort he put it. However, as time passed, his profits expanded and two years later, the present, he had a strong business with several of his close friends working beside him, reeling in hundreds of dollars on a weekly basis, which is split between the group - most of Bradley's share going straight to his mother.
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*What I mean by this is that he loves beating the shit out of bad people if they deserve it and would probably find it easy putting a bullet in to a bad person, but he would never condone violence to an innocent. |
48,764 | 1,312 | 1 | 1,898 | 756 | Team Tooke MMA
At about an hour before the gym officially opened, the doors to Team Tooke MMA we're let open by trainer and mixed martial arts legend, Edgar Sully. Now at the age of 53, Edgar trained what he described as the next generation of fighters. The man was an enthusiast, taking on the roll of a coach right after retiring from the octagon. He was in a bloodline of fighters, ranging back to his great grandfather, a boxing champion. But with an evolving culture, so did the sport.
Boxing was still a very high impact ticket in the world, but UFC and MMA were seat-fillers. It came into society like a gold mine, everyone wanted a piece of it. Edgar's father was the first to take on the new sport, not getting too far in his career, but able to do the exact opposite for his son. Edgar Sully became the world heavyweight champion. His record was buried with his legend though, since it seems not too many remember him.
But anyway, the doors to the gym were opened early by Edgar so an old friend of his could train before any other students showed up - Nate "Destroyer" Tucker. After being released from confinement not too long ago, Nate had to return to his roots in attempt to have some sort of release. Only place he felt at peace was in Sully's gym. Some would agree that going back there would only bring back old memories, but for Nate, Team Tooke had been his real home. Nate's lady therapist didn't believe it's be the best choice to return to a place that helped him commit the crime, but that didn't coincide with Nate. But regardless his thoughts, Nate did take precautions.
For one, he asked Sully if he could train an hour before the gym opened and an hour after it closed. Because of a mutual trust, Edgar agreed. In the condition that Sully himself would be present during his workout. The coach wanted Nate to start fighting in the octagon again like when he was a kid. He believed that the best way to get away from his past was to create a formidable future. Sully believed in Nate's talent, he had the wits to win them all. But it was clear in the way he trained and his distant personality that something was still bothering him. There was this unclear mental strain in him that wouldn't let him free and it was obvious.
But despite that, and despite their relationship, money had become a factor for Sully. If Nate didn't want to fight and make the gym and himself some money, he would have to start paying just like everyone else who trained there.
And on this day it was all the same. Nate showed up at the doors at six in the morning to have Sully open the gym just for him. Nate - in addition to all his other requests - wanted to be alone while training, hence the time of his workouts. Anyway, after doing his hour long workout, he showered and was just about to leave before Coach Sully caught up to him and stopped his forward process. "I need to talk to you kid, so hold up a second before you dash right out of here. You're two weeks behind on your payments. I know were family, but I'm runnin' a business here. If I don't get this money, I'm not sure you'll even have a gym to work at in the next month or so" Sully explained to Nate.
The fighter stared at the mats below him, feeling a little guilty for not paying up already. "I'll get your money by the end of this week Coach. I promise" he responded, now staring at the man's eyes instead. His determination shined a bright green aura in his pupils. He knew Sully wasn't joking about his hard time with keeping the gym running, it had happened before. So though Nate was having his own money problems, he had to manage. His first plan was to leave the motel he was staying at, sleep on the streets for a while so he wouldn't have to spend so much. Secondly he would have to talk with Bradley, possibly get some quick jobs - Nate was t the guy to ask for loans. He didn't want to depend on other people's money. He was done being helpless. | Nate "Destroyer" Tucker
Age: 22 Years Old
Gender: Male
Appearance:
As seen in the picture above, Nate is in a very qualitative physical state. In accordance to his training, his physique is very important to him - believing that the only way to remain overall healthy, is to live a healthy lifestyle. He stands at 5'10 and weighs in at about 158 pounds, a very decent ideal weight for his height. His body fat percentage is very low, revealing his toned features. Though in reality, only people who get to see his body are usually his opponents in the ring and the spectators. He normally wears hoodies everywhere he goes, hot or not. Usually in three different colors - black, grey, and navy. He always carries around a lighter - though he doesn't smoke - and his chained wallet that is strapped onto his pants at all times. He also tends to carry a red rag that he lets hang from his right back pocket of his pants and usually has work boots on - very unlikely to see him wearing tennis shoes. Nate allows himself to sag a little, but not to a point where his underwear is showing, because for him that's disrespectful. He has a stubble which he never lets grow too long or too short. His hair the same way, basically a buzz cut. Other than that, he has many tattoos, tribal ones on each arm, "Destroyer" on his chest, and a one-winged angel on his upper right back.
Personality:
Nate is somewhat multidimensional. He has two forms of personalities that clash against one another and jumble up his thoughts and actions. He tends to have difficulty understanding what is right and what is wrong. From his past experiences, he has learned to calm his rage and store it inside him - cage it like an animal. But at times when things get out of hand is where that 'animal' in him tends to escape. Usually he tends to keep to himself, believing he may hurt the people around him if he involves himself too much. But despite that, Nate does indeed want to be part of society and have bonds with others, even if at one point they'll be shattered just like most. In the end, he tries his hardest to be compassionate and change the person he ones was in hope of becoming someone better - more productive.
Likes:Working out, fighting (legally and for sport), being alone majority of the time, connections (relationships), and listening.
Dislikes:Struggling, loneliness (complicated for him), brother (Lance Tucker), meat (vegetarian - turned after being let out of jail), loud noises, and prostitutes.
Biography:
The past wasn't what mattered to Nate at all. After being sent to jail for assault against his own father, Nate was released within eight years and started to focus on the future. As a child, he was physically and mentally abused by both his parents. In addition to his brother, Nate was the youngest and the weakest, so he couldn't put up any sort of fight then. The adults would place the blame of their finances on their children, beating them for anger rehabilitation. Lance, the eldest brother, at the age of 12 decided to run away leaving Nate behind. Of course, that night was not good for Nate because Lance's abandonment angered both of them - despite their desires of wanting to get rid of the boys.
But when Nate turned 14 years old, Lance returned with a small group of thugs - a gang. He came back for his brother and to get rid of his parents. Lance soon found out that his mother died three years before his return. She was diagnosed with terminal cancer that they could not afford to treat. He also found out that Nate had started working for old man Joe at a small convenience store, using the money to pay for fighting lessons at a mixed martial arts gym near their house. With two years of experience the boy learned quite a lot, no longer letting anyone pick on him at school or anywhere but home. He was given the opportunity to get into fights, both for the sport and for self defense - also out of pure anger.
So when Lance returned for payback, he let his little brother - the one who endured the most pain - get his revenge. Nate didn't want to, but was pushed to beat the living crap out of his old man. Despite their difference in height and weight, Nate was fighting a weak old man. He broke his father's knee with a numerous amount of kicks and busted up his face with a couple of punches and elbows. After that event, Nate and Lance moved in together at an apartment out of town. The brothers lived together for a couple months until the cops showed up to take arrest Nate for physical assault. His brother was not charged, but brought in for questioning where he did not speak a word in anybodies behalf.
During those years in prison, Lance would come from time to time to check up on his little brother. He told him that he was making it big, bringing in all different kinds of dough - illegally of course. He told Nate that once he got out, he could join him and they'd get rich together where Nate negated Lance's proposal. He turned him down completely, telling his brother he'd changed. He informed him that he no longer needed people to look out for him, that he could do it on his own - even if it wasn't true.
Anyhow, after getting out, Nate had to endure six months of anger management classes, probation, and other things he hated. But despite his anger towards those things, they did in fact change him as a whole. He learned to control his emotions to a point, changed his view on life, and wanted a better future for himself. But despite all of that, he was still struggling. Nobody would hire him due to his criminal record, nobody would even look at his applications. All he had at this point was the gym he once trained at, so he returned to that. But even so, he didn't want to fight, just train. |
48,765 | 1,312 | 2 | 2,659 | 1,220 | Cat rolled over and over in bed. She was trying to bury herself under mounds of white comforter to hide the sun shining through the window and into her face. But it was no use. When it was light outside and she was awake, she couldn’t go back to sleep. A whimper left the huddled form of white lumps before she tossed off the blanket. She sat on the bed, short dark hair messy and all around her face so that only one eye, the tip of her nose, and her lips and chin were clearly visible. She wore some baggy sweatpants with some brand name stamped across the side and a cami with a built in bra that did little good.
Giving the window an annoyed glare, she slid out of bed, bare feet padding towards the kitchen. One hand was rubbing her visible eye, and the other hit things to her side lightly to make sure she was going the right way without having to look.
She finally made her way to the kitchen and stopped rubbing her eye, finding a bowl, milk, and box of cereal. She went to pour the contents of the box, only for maybe 5 pieces to clink in the ceramic, making her frown heavily. Sighing, she put the milk back up and turned to see coffee sitting there. So, Brad was already up. She made herself a cup and ran a hand through her hair, getting it away from her vision before heading out on the balcony where Bradley was smoking. She stood next to him and poked his side with one finger while drinking her coffee. ”Did you eat my cereal, huh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, but looking out at the city and not Bradley. | Name: Lee "Dragon Fist" Kang
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Appearance: Lee stands around 5'9" in total height and weighs in at an exact 150 plbs which is the ideal weight for his height and body mass. His eyes are a dark brown and always look fierce and full of fire. With no fat on his body he has a solid physique. Like many korean martial artist he takes care of his body with extreme training to keep himself as springy and wiry as possible. He is not as much muscle as he is toned, however where he lacks in muscle he makes up for in speed and aggression to overwhelm his opponent to the point of fracture. Always clean shaven he keeps himself presentable to a large degree and does not possess any tattoos on his body for he believes they hold no real value on a fighter. He keeps a natural haircut that is short but not shaven, but also not long enough to be grabbed in a fight. Not normally one to wear the usual apparel of today's American he is most noted for walking around in clothing that is light and gives him the ability to be flexible at all times. His usual clothing consisting of a pair of black pine tree martial arts shoes, a pair of black lightweight martial arts pants, a common black mens tank tops, and a black and red Kung fu style type which he keeps open in the front and sleeves often rolled up past the elbows.
Personality: Lee believes in absolutes to put it mildly, there is no middle ground, things are what they are and if you can't accept that then your too weak to face reality for what it is. Lee is one who does not believe in weakness, if you want to cry about your life then he won't be that shoulder to cry on, growing up the way he did, you either choose to be strong or you choose to be weak. While it holds true that he is softer towards close friends to a large degree, he still believes strongly that if your that weak then you should die. Lee lives on what some might call a life or death plane, or in other words the weak die the strong survive and there is no second place in this. Lee's most notable train of thought is when it comes to whats right and whats wrong, what many people consider as wrong, to Lee, is nothing more then a line between wrong and right. In other words you consider it wrong but he considers it neither wrong nor right. In Lee's mind no actions are right or wrong but merely choices that have a consequence if it be good or bad. Some consider Lee unstable, but Lee considers himself strong and that's all that really matters in the end. He has never cared what people think of him or his actions and in the end he never will.
Likes:
- Strength
- Training
- Respect
- Honor
- His closest friends
- Determination
- Those who show guts
- Fighting
Dislikes:
- Weakness
- Stupidity
- Blatant disrespect
- Cowards
- Bully's
- self delusions
- Being called unstable
- Dishonor
Biography: Lee does not reflect much upon the life that brought him up to this point, for he despises his life as a child. Lee was born into what some might call a traditional Korean culture in America. His mother died giving birth to him so he was raised by his father who was a strict and very old world type of man. Lee from the moment he could stand lived a rigorous and hard life, his father who was an expert martial artist did not believe in weakness, and did not believe in failure or taking the easy road. Lee was often beat by his father for even the littlest thing, and from the age of four he was forced to start training in Martial Arts, with his father as his instructor. Life training with his father was rather hard, Lee by time he was six and starting school was not new to the feeling of pain. Unlike most in school, Lee excelled at learning and more often then not he soaked up knowledge which allowed him to skip grades from time to time. But with this also came the fact that Lee was often placed in classrooms which kids who were older and bigger then him which lead to him meeting his first bully's.
When Lee came home with his first shiner, instead of a loving caring father he was beaten and chastised for being so weak and losing. Which in the end lead to Lee's father training him and working him even harder then before. Life went on for a couple years like this for Lee, taking beatings at school, and then coming home and facing his father who drilled him until his body ached from the stress and his knuckles were covered in blood. It was in this point in Lee's life that he realized that no one truly gave a damn about him and he started to become hardened to the world in which he lived. By time Lee was ten years old, the many beatings and the uncaring attitudes of the ones around him he had started to become angry and spiteful. It was in this moment that Lee decided that he would stop fighting his father and learn what he had to teach him, if nothing else then to one day beat his father very much like he beat him. From that point forward for three years straight Lee endured his school life, and then his home life, he immersed himself into his training.
At age twelves things began to change, and it all started with a bully who took it a step too far at school. Lee had become slightly infatuated with a girl his age at school. However a long time bully found out and without remorse humiliated Lee in front of her to the point where even she began to treat him like everyone else did. After this Lee finally snapped and for the first time he fought, and beat the same bully who had been torturing him for all that time. However Lee in his anger took it too far and beat the boy within an inch of his life and would have killed him had it not been broken up by the teachers. After the incident Lee was expelled permanently from school an almost got put in juvy for attempted murder but it did not hold. His father whom he thought might be proud of him for defending himself was instead outraged and the night he came home beat him unmercilessly to the point of death. After that night Lee was taken from his father and given to his fathers older brother who was not much better then his father, and like before he was once more immersed into learning to fight.
Lee never returned to school after the incident and it was around his fifteen year that he started getting into the darker things in his city, drugs and gangs. It started small with simple drug selling and then it got worse as time went on, to the point where Lee was beating people half to death in the streets. The more time went on the deeper that Lee got, it is unknown what happened to change Lee's ways but around his nineteenth year he walked away from the streets and the terrible things in which he had been doing. Free of his family ties Lee never went back to his Uncle and found himself free for the first time ever. Soon enough Lee found himself at a Martial arts dojo that belong to an older korean master, needless to say after Lee showed the older master what he could do the old man took him under his wing and furthered his training, and for the first time Lee felt happy with his life and found must respect his master. However good this life was, Lee quickly began to realise that he needed money to live on and his master could not support them both, so against his better judgement he returned to his darker past and found himself in a drug circle with close friends he made to make ends meet. Now at age twenty one Lee now known as Dragon Fist for his deadly aggression is now a master himself still helping at the Dojo to teach others the art of Kung Fu and still making money on the streets to keep himself above and going. |
48,766 | 1,313 | 0 | 275 | 114 | A few hours ago he'd arrived in the small lakeside town of Alice, shifting impatiently in his seat as a relatively small man attempted to get his bag down from the overhead shelves above him, too full of pride to ask for any assistance. The process took several minutes that felt like hours, and Diana had to stifle his desire to clap sarcastically when the man, face red, finally began to make his way back down the isle and off the train, he felt bad for them though, everyone was muttering, even the workers had gossip amongst themselves, but that's what made the day pass by, and what kept them loco-motivated for the mind numbing task of customer service.
Dai slipped outside with his small suitcase (admittedly, being particularly weak in the limbs he was struggling slightly) and weaved his way through a small crowd blocking the way. The station wasn't especially busy, Alice itself was mostly supported by the wealthy vacationing families whose cabins dotted the lakeside, but there were a good number of people trying to commute on legitimate business. He kept on walking, and just outside the open air station grounds (which were covered by overhanging, translucent canvases) Dai found a number of cabs lined up neatly at the sidewalks edge, each just as bright and polished as the next, and after making quick, awkward conversation with someone he hadn't personally met Dai managed to convince a driver to take him to his cabin; "I just need to get to the Starlight Lake-house". It was an awkwardly silent ride, his usual driver was especially chatty and made the short trip of about twenty minutes as enjoyable as possible, but this one was deadpan and silent save for a few words about the weather when prompted, though his expression in the rearview mirror gave away his general disinterest. Diana knew that it was more likely than not this man would eventually be fired, considering it was part of his job to be especially friendly with the customers, but being shy and uncharacterized by his own wealth, Dai didn't try to make anything of the awkward silence. When he got to the cabin, workers were milling about, cleaning and stocking shelves, so he tried to make himself as small and unnoticed as possible as he slipped upstairs into his own room and slept into the late afternoon.
"If ya need anything just call okay?" said a small but strong looking woman in jeans and a loose shirt as she got into the passenger seat of a large white van, they were the last of the workers to be leaving, and she'd been a friend to him since he was very young.
"I will Laura." Dai responded quietly, smiling despite himself as he took a few steps back. The woman smiled knowingly, confidently, as the van started to pull away, she began to say something else, but he was too distracted by the dust kicked up as the van sped out of the driveway to hear her. It pulled haphazardly around the bend back toward town, and vanished quickly into the dense treeline.
After a short bout of coughing and rubbing his eyes, Diana sighed with visible irritation before turning his attention back toward the cabin itself. Admittedly, he was more than a bit nervous about going back inside on his own... usually there were servants of some kind moving about during the summers, and they kept him at ease, but now he was truly and completely alone as the sun started its slow decent. Biting his lip he made his way over the small expanse of grass between the driveway and the porch. The lovely cabin, exterior painted in soft, neutral colors while the porch itself was made up of well sanded planks, and every window clear as crystal, was made ominous given his mindset. He stopped a moment, having surmounted the short steps, to face the door in distracted silence, shifting on his feet awkwardly and trying not to glance to either side in fear that something would be nearby to startle him. Dai reached out, finally grasping the dark bronze colored doorknob and gave it a turn, but he had to lean into the door itself with all his weight for it to open, much to his dismay.
The inside of the cabin was well lit, as they could easily afford to keep all the lights on if they wanted, but it made him feel no better about the situation, casting quick glances at the various corners and windows and doorways that would otherwise be completely innocent and familiar to him. Drifting, he went into the living room and flicked on the stereo, mostly for background noise, and as the radio personality prattled on Dai moved to shut some of the curtains over daunting windows, before heading upstairs quite slowly, and running back down, laptop in hand, and tried to make himself comfortable on the floor, keeping his back to the nearest wall to ease his mind. A song started to play, one he knew well enough, but he paid it little mind, instead turning toward the various online conversations he was more or less a part of, and wondering when his friends, Faith and Raven, would arrive. He'd invited them both a number of days prior, and had arranged, loosely, with the station that the ticket costs for any Starlight guests were to be placed on his bill, but time was lost to his own thoughts and his overall discomfort with being alone in the cabin. | Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe
Age: 19
Height: 5'11
Weight: 120ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Cis Male
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance:
He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes.
General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal. |
48,767 | 1,313 | 1 | 1,375 | 153 | 'Now arriving at Alice please stay in your-' Eleanor heard her place of arrival and began to prepare to vacate the train. The carriage she was in wasn't very busy and everyone sat quietly glued to their own business, she wasn't surprised by the other civilized passengers in the carriage due to it being first class, however it had always been in the back of her mind as of why she didn't pay for the ticket herself. She was perfectly capable to do so, however Raven explained the 'expenses are going to be paid' which made Eleanor wonder, Who is this 'Diana' and why is he being so polite to me, Someone he definitely doesn't know?
As the train came to a halt only a few people stood up and grabbed their bags from above them, it took Eleanor a couple of minutes to get the timing just right to grab her bag in mid air while jumping high enough to reach and catch it while still standing. She managed it, and wheeled her suitcase out of the train.
After walking outside of the station she saw perfectly placed taxi's, all in a idealistic straight line.
'OCD's would love this' she thought to herself before struggling a few more paces with her heavy suitcase. Approaching the taxi she politely tapped on the drivers window glass, expecting him to role down the window like any other average taxi, so she bent slightly over to be able to speak to the man, but instead a sudden burst of the door hit her face and she fell to the ground landing on her backside.
"It's okay." She quietly spoke her left hand clutching her forehead as the kind taxi man helped her up repeating his apologies, he obviously didn't mean to do it and Eleanor understood that, however he tried to apologize as many times as possible while seating her in the car and moving her suitcase for her.
"It's a beautiful place full of wildlife and animals! Oh the animals they are truly amazing you should see the-" Ellie began to zone out from the taxi man's gibberish as he began to drive. Still clutching her forehead she also felt sharp pains in her lower back - where she fell. For the whole of the journey she stared out the window, the trees and houses that sped past calmed her, she slowly drifted off. She lifted her hand from her head as soon as she hear the taxi man finally say
" We are here!" Finally, the taxi man made the 20 minute ride feel like forever and the snooze she had didn't make her head feel any better. But as soon as she looked at her hand a little patch of blood was in her palm, 'Damn' she said under breath and quickly checked the drivers mirror to see what her face actually looked like. As she peered into it she saw a huge bruise shape (about the size of a plum) on her forehead with a slight graze by the side.
'Oh boy look out' she said to herself as the taxi man came to open her door, before he saw she quickly raised her hand back onto her forehead, she squinted as her palm hit her face heavily, she forgot that her bruise actually hurt on impact and was too busy thinking of a way to mask it fast enough.
As she stepped out of the taxi she was handed her luggage by the driver and stood near the door, the driver sped off and left her alone in-front of a cabin she had never been to before. She waddled to the door still holding her forehead and finally pushed the doorbell with her elbow after many efforts she stepped back slightly and looked up at the cabin, it looked beautiful and the view of the cabin made her forget to hide her face as she lowered her arm down back to her side. | Name: Eleanor/Ellie Dove
Age: 17 (just turned last week)
Height: 5"5
Weight: 116lb
Sex:Female
Gender: Female
Orientation: Hetero/experimental
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance (description &/or image): lots of images (i got carried away shiina is too pretty)
General Personality (description): If you do not know her Eleanor is a quiet girl-not shy just quiet. She will speak her mind but not in the strongest fashions and always has something to say but she will keep it under her breath. The first impression of Eleanor is a pushover girl considering her scholarship in art and speaking a different language (french). However once you get to know her she is quirky, confident, excited, hyper and down right annoying, Although she seems calm at all times.She enjoys winding people up and being sarcastic. |
48,768 | 1,313 | 2 | 275 | 114 | Fingers moving in a reflexive blur, Dai would only glance down at his keyboard to enter the occasional number or special symbol he hadn't quite gotten memorized, entirely focused on his various conversations, he hardly even heard the music that was playing. A conversation dulled, and just as he was switching tabs there was a sudden, very loud and somewhat obnoxious ringing that flooded the living room, resulting in Dai banging his head into the wall behind him in surprise (though not hard enough to cause any damage to it or himself). He clutched his chest and sighed, shaking it off, and put a hand behind his head before getting up to answer the door, the possibility of this being some sort of murderer or similar situation had slipped his mind entirely. He had left his laptop laying haphazardly on the floor behind him.
"Hell-" He started quietly, opening the door and adjusting to the light, though he was already making relatively good eye contact (as most of his friends were significantly smaller than himself) "oh, damn-doll you need ice" he said in a hurried but flat tone, actually almost everything he said came out that way, with his perpetually hushed voice. Turning, he said over his shoulder; "uh come in, sit down somewhere, I don't mind...." He was glancing around, only just barley conscious of being any sort of host, as he moved around the corner through the living room and into the kitchen, returning shortly there after with a small ice-pack. "Uh." was all he could manage as he held it out to the girl, only now dawning on him he had no idea who she was. | Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe
Age: 19
Height: 5'11
Weight: 120ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Cis Male
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance:
He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes.
General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal. |
48,769 | 1,313 | 3 | 1,375 | 153 | Thank you Eleanor said quietly taking the ice pack and holding it against her forehead with her left hand squinting at the cold touch, she stumbled in with her heavy suitcase almost tripping at the doorway and sat on the nearest couch, "It's nothing serious, just a bruise and a slight graze". Adjusting herself into the couch, relaxing her head and neck, it was so comfortable compared to the train seat and the taxi seat- a relief! The room around her was lovely, beautifully decorated and suited perfectly to the cabin. Although it was extremely clean and tidy it almost felt homelike to her. 'Is that the Diana boy that raven had mentioned? He's nice' She thought to herself as she played with the frills at the end of her light coral dress (matching her hair of course).
She began to stand- well at least try- however her head began spinning, she fell back into the heavenly couch and sighed in some way 'paralysed' against the cushions her right foot tucked behind her left, comfertable.
'Manners!' Eleanor thought to herself as she shut her eyes for a moment, all the bright lights began to give her a headache.
"How are you?" She asked effortlessly, her head being too heavy to move she raised her eyes to just about see him by the right of her. Constantly twiddling with her frills at the end of her dress. | Name: Eleanor/Ellie Dove
Age: 17 (just turned last week)
Height: 5"5
Weight: 116lb
Sex:Female
Gender: Female
Orientation: Hetero/experimental
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance (description &/or image): lots of images (i got carried away shiina is too pretty)
General Personality (description): If you do not know her Eleanor is a quiet girl-not shy just quiet. She will speak her mind but not in the strongest fashions and always has something to say but she will keep it under her breath. The first impression of Eleanor is a pushover girl considering her scholarship in art and speaking a different language (french). However once you get to know her she is quirky, confident, excited, hyper and down right annoying, Although she seems calm at all times.She enjoys winding people up and being sarcastic. |
48,770 | 1,313 | 4 | 275 | 114 | I'm alright... Dai muttered, rubbing the back of his head unintentionally as he opened the front door fully and slid a previously concealed screen into place. Stealing a glance into the living room he checked to make sure his laptop wasn't snapped in half or anything... but it looked fine, so he turned back to the girl and, albeit reluctantly, took a seat on the small couch adjacent to her in the entry room. "I assume you're one of Faith or Raven's friends? Oh erm, I'm Dai. D - A - I." he spelled quickly but not harshly. They talked for some time at length about nothing in particular, mostly the general details of her trip... all small talk that followed the awkward explanation that Raven hadn't yet arrived.
The world turned on outside, and as they talked the sky got a little darker still. | Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe
Age: 19
Height: 5'11
Weight: 120ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Cis Male
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance:
He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes.
General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal. |
48,771 | 1,313 | 5 | 585 | 754 | Faith yawned and stretched as she stood up, the train had arrived a few minutes ago and rudely woke her from a light sleep. Faith hadn't thought about the length of the trip but she would have loved to arrive earlier than she actually did. Faith grabbed the large suitcase and smaller bag suitcase out of the above compartment. When Faith turned to move down the aisle, she bumped into a man wearing a business suit who was bent down tying his shoes. "Oh dam man! Sorry about that, I didn't see you there." Faith said with a wide smile. The business man just muttered something and walked off the train. In actuality, Faith was happy to have bumped into such an uptight person in a uniform. From what Dai had told Faith on the invitation, it was suppose to be the vacation place for the rich which Faith thought would mean vacation clothes and not a suit. Faith quickly ran off the train and out into the road leading away.
Waiting for its occupants were several taxis which seemed to reflected the kind of people who came here. Each one was so shiny that Faith could see herself in it but Faith had no trouble hopping into one. Faith happily told the man to take her to the Starlight lake-house. The car was well ventilated and the man had interesting stories and comments on Faith's makeup. Faith learned that the driver, Jake, had a daughter around her age who reminded him so much of his deceased wife that he feared he might push her away. Faith supplicated the man's fears with the fact that he only needed to bond with the woman she is and not worry about the similarity to his wife. Overall, Faith was happy to have conversation to allow her a distraction from the normally boring scenery. The car came to a halt at the cabin and Faith hopped out and said her goodbye to Jake.
Faith was amazed with how beautiful the design of the cabin was. She had no problem with marveling at the beautiful wood and the amazing flowers around the area. Faith quickly moved up the stairs and knocked on the door in a series of knocks that mixed a two-three-two. The knocking was rather cheerful and meant to be as such so as to allow Dai a little hint that someone arrived. | Name:Faith Simmons
Age:17
Height:5'7
Weight:134lbs
Sex: Female
Gender: Female
Orientation:Pansexual(means she dates based on personality not gender)
HandedNess:
General Personality (description): Faith is not much one for ideal conversation but she takes as much part in it as possible. She is a generally nice girl with a bit of a temper problem. In the past, Faith use to cut herself but she has stopped leaving behind only a few scars on her arms that she tries to cover. Faith likes people who give stimulating and intelligent conversation. She will never curse but will try to hit something should she get angry. She is quick to make up her mind about people and few things change her mind once it is set. Faith gives everyone she meets a degree of trust which is hard to lose. |
48,772 | 1,313 | 6 | 2,344 | 303 | I'm not makin' out with yoooooou! Even though I think your cuuuute! Richard sang along loudly as he drove his car towards his destination. He tapped his hands against the steering wheel to the beat of the drum and nodded his head to the beat. The car was an early 2000s sedan that had obviously been through a lot. There were dents and chipped paint just littered on the body of the vehicle. It was loud when it drove by, no doubt because of the messed up muffler. Even though the car was a piece of crap, Richard didn't care, it was the only car he could really afford and in all honesty he had kind of gotten used to it's constant problems. The back of the car was piled with both junk and supplies for his time at the cabin. There was a duffel bag filled with clothes that had obviously just been shoved in there without being folded. There was also a blanket and a pillow in the back because he was pretty sure he was going to be sleeping on the couch or the floor judging by the amount of CCs there were in the email he got inviting him out. There was a couple of guitar cases, one was a Epiphone G-400 Vintage SG which was placed in the passengers seat with an accompanying amp placed on the floor (However it was a smaller amp than the one's he was used to) as well as a cheap Gibson acoustic guitar placed in the back. He wasn't exactly sure why he brought all that to this "cabin" as he knew it wasn't like he had to study up on his guitar, but if he could get some practice here and there before going back to school it would be all okay.
Truth be told he wasn't expecting to make it out of his hometown this summer. As much as he loved spending time with his family and friends there's only so much of that he could actually take before he got absolutely exhausted with it all. So when he got an email from an acquaintance of his to go to a maxed out cabin with some other people, how could he refuse? The email said that there would have been a train ride provided as well as taxi service but Richard felt like it would be better just to drive it. It wasn't TOO far from his hometown and he could sing along to whatever he wanted in his own car without thinking about how bad other people would want him to stop in a train or even a taxi. He just hoped that maybe he could get the gas money reimbursed because he provided his own transportation
He turned down the street that the house was on and noticed how big all the other places around here were, a lot different than in the city with all the tightly packed apartments and storefronts. Whilst looking at all the houses he finally noticed the one he was supposed to be heading for and he turned into the driveway, the car coming to a screeching halt outside the home. He made a mental note to himself to get new brake pads as he turned off the music, stepped out of the car, and stretched out. He was wearing a J Mascis t-shirt with tight dark denim jeans and sunglasses with blue frames. He brushed his hand through his hair and walked towards the door, knowing only that he was supposed to meet someone, possibly a girl, by the name of Diana. He noticed that someone had already arrived there and was waiting to get in, Richard assumed she had already used the doorbell or knocked on the door so he went up and stood behind her. "Hey" He said with a smile on his face as he waited to be let in. | Name: Richard "Rich" Masters
Age: 19
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 135
Sex: Male
Gender: Male Identifying
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance: A bit lanky as he is underweight for his age. He's almost never seen without sunglasses on and he's usually wearing some kind of band or media related t-shirt.
General Personality: Layed back and relaxed mostly. What a lot of people would describe as having the personality of a stoner, even if he does not do any drugs. It's not like he could afford a drug habit anyway, being a music major doesn't really facilitate a lot of steady income.
---
Hope this is alright and I didn't leave anything out. |
48,773 | 1,313 | 7 | 2,068 | 425 | As the train soared its way along the tracks, Rayne couldn’t help but tap his foot excitedly. His summers consisted of him sleeping upside down on his lounge for weeks, so when he got a text from his friend Faith inviting him to a cabin for the summer, he jumped at the idea. The invitation had said that he could invite someone, so Rayne assumed that inviting everyone in his contact list was okay too. He smiled wide before he noticed the person next to him was looking off into the distance. He stood up and walked around behind them, putting his head next to theirs and looking out the window.
“Watcha looking at?” He asked curiously. He spent the rest of the train trip talking top his new friend. It turned out he was going a town a few stops after Alice, so he chatted happily until he heard the announcement ‘Next stop, Alice’
“That’s me!” He said as he grabbed his rolling suitcase in his left hand and his briefcase in the other. He waved his new friend goodbye as he ran off the train, excited to finally get to his destination. He ran down the path until he was greeted to the sight of taxis waiting by the side of the road. This must have been what Faith meant by ‘Expenses paid’. He ran up to one of the taxis and opened the backseat door, throwing his bags in and taking a seat and leaning towards the driver.
“Starlight lake house my good man” He said as he smiled wide to the man. On the trip he engaged in a nice chat about the area with the driver. Apparently this was a nice calm place that people often came to for relaxation and to kick back. After about twenty minutes he finally arrived at the house. He pressed his face against the window as he admired the buildings impressive size.
“Dats sho big!” He said with a strange mumble as his face squished against the glass. He was used to living in a three room apartment that was about the size of a tool shed, so this was a very welcome change. He thanked the driver before grabbing his things and waving the taxi off as it made its way back down the path. As he turned to look at the front door he noticed a few familiar people. He ran his way up the steps before dropping his suitcase and wrapping his arms around the girl from behind.
"Hey there Faith!” He said with a wide grin as he hugged her. They were friends, so that meant he could hug her without fear of being yelled at. For some reason, strangers always found it strange when he hugged them. He looked over to see one of the people he had invited. “Richard!” He yelled as he released his grip on the girl and hugged him tightly. He let the boy go and stepped back, picking up the luggage he had dropped. “How is everyone today?” He asked with a wide grin, happy to see some of his friends. | Name: Rayne Maxwell
Age: 18
Height: 5’7
Weight: 115ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Orientation: A bit of this and a bit of that. (Bisexual)
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance (description &/or image): Rayne is a fairly skinny guy with long arms and legs. Favourite clothes include jeans and long sleeved shirts when it’s cold, and a normal shirt and still jeans when it’s hot.
General Personality (description): In a word, eccentric would be the most fitting for Rayne. He is fun loving and very active, always running around and playing. He is always smiling, doing his best to lighten the mood, even if he is sad or depressed. When asked as a kid ‘What is the one thing you want the most?’ His answer was ‘I want everyone in the world to smile’. This is the motto he lives by every day, doing his best to be happy with his friends. (Side note, he is rather flirtatious with almost everyone he meets) |
48,774 | 1,313 | 8 | 350 | 60 | “Erh, hey? This is our stop.”
A hand gripped her shoulder lightly before a quick release, but Calliope still felt the looming presence as she came awake, one eye popping open to peer upward curiously. A rather plump man was standing over her, solid brown eyes full of kindness as he waited to make sure she was awake before departing. Waving goodbye to her brief companion, Calliope grabbed her luggage and got off the train. She moved slowly, but only because of the pet carrier she was toting as well as her own impressive backpack. The backpack had seen better days, having been used for numerous rough hikes through mountains and forests, but it suited her body and could hold anything she needed without leaving too much room for the unnecessary.
“I've got him, thanks.” Waving away the taxi driver when he tried to grab for Rosco, her orange-and-white tom, Calliope slid into the cab and plopped her pet down beside her. She didn't know what Rayne would say, but Rosco was her family and her responsibility and even for a cat he was easy to keep around – didn't need a litter box or even food most of the time if his hunting went well. She certainly couldn't leave him with her family and their new problematic foster dog. A brief worry surfaced regarding predators, but Rosco was a barn cat and a veteran – foxes, coyotes, such predators were commonplace. Settling back into the seat, Calliope told the driver her destination
The drive flew by, though perhaps that was because Calliope was tagging alongside Roland Deschain in the fiftieth reread of The Gunslinger. Her posture was comical, having slid down in the seat until her legs were resting against the back of the front passenger seat and her head well below the headrest. Chewing on her lower lip, Calliope endured the ride in pleasurable silence and when the taxi driver brought the car to stop, she gave him a hefty tip for not being talkative and bothersome. It was only fair, since everything else was apparently paid for. A frown furrowed her brow at that thought, but Calliope couldn't retain the worry long as she got her first glimpse of the lake house and its surroundings. Duly impressed, she let the cabbie help her out and slid her backpack onto one shoulder. Rosco made a grumbling noise from the ground, displeased with his continued imprisonment.
After a thorough evaluation of her surroundings, she finally zoned in on the house's porch and the gathering there. She immediately recognized Rayne and thought the other fellow looked familiar, but she couldn't immediately place him. As everyone was busy greeting each other, Calliope was capable of walking up relatively unnoticed. Setting Rosco to the side and out of harm's way, she dropped her backpack to the ground and peered up at the grouping with a quicksilver smile.
“Hullo, Rayne. Hullo, other people. I am Calliope.” Her eyes flickered briefly, recalling the various reactions her name inspired, but wariness over potential pending jokes was simply too much effort and a second smile briefly lit her face. | Name
Calliope (Ka-ly-oh-pee)
Nickname
Callie, based on spelling rather than pronunciation
Age
18
Sex
Female
Gender
Female
Orientation
Straight
Height
5'6"
Weight
130 lbs
Appearance
She is not quite slim, but being active and the blessed metabolism of good genetics has kept her weight steady. She is likely more squish than muscle, despite liking to spend time outdoors being active. Her hair is considered fine and straight, both naturally blonde and artificially lightened. Eyes that dance between a clear evening's azure and a stormy grey sky seem darker and more dramatic against her fair skin, free of freckles but for her shoulders. She tries to wear contacts but has little patience for discomfort and often ends up wearing glasses instead.
Handedness
Right
Personality
If asked to describe herself, Calliope would probably struggle and end up just saying her likes, which are decently rounded in terms of variety: knitting and rappelling, cats and kickboxing. Reading a book while laying on a blanket with a hot sun and cool wind, the smell of spring all around her. After that, perhaps she'd find characteristics, but Calliope has always been suspicious of self-evaluations, figuring a person is always predisposed to be somewhat wrong about themselves, whether in too good or too negative a fashion. In the same frame she's critical of most things dealing with online tests or astrology, preferring rather a clean and precise science. A mellow woman, her voice is uncommonly low and smooth of tone, making her often seem as if she's on the verge of sleep or without a care in the world. Her laughter is quick and easy but ofttimes she misses the joke due to taking it a little too literally, worse sometimes because her ability for subtlety has never been wholly present. She's usually optimistic but never quite reaches bubbly, her temper seldom sparking but being the worse when it does. |
48,775 | 1,313 | 9 | 275 | 114 | Uh, was all Dai could manage, standing awkwardly in the doorway just behind the thin screen, "welcome?", his eyes drifting between the four of them and then finally settling on Faith, whom eased his mind considerably. He'd left Eleanor on the couch in the entry room a bit earlier so she could rest, and even though the knocking had been enough to get him off his computer again he was certain she was still asleep, but despite this he glanced back at her worriedly before sliding the screen door open, letting it vanish neatly into the door-frame, and stepping out onto the porch.
He was slouching slightly, a typical trait of his when he wasn't in what he considered public, and it brought him down a few inches to about five foot eight, and again, as he had been doing for the last ten or twenty minutes, he subconsciously rubbed the back of his head and proceeded to fiddle with his hair, while decidedly avoiding prolonged eye contact with either of the boys he didn't know. But, having been standing around just long enough to see the last girl arrive, he smiled at her and said, in as friendly a voice as he could muster; "I'm Diana." | Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe
Age: 19
Height: 5'11
Weight: 120ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Cis Male
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance:
He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes.
General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal. |
48,776 | 1,313 | 10 | 1,612 | 745 | Peter-Jason, or P-J as he preferred, came from a workING-class Irish Catholic family where his dad was a Homicide Detective, mom was a U-S History teacher, and three brothers and four kids. P-J had his choice of colleges to choose from, because he was the 3rd ranked Outside Linebacker in the country. Though the college he attended wasn't a powerhouse they offered P-J one thing the other big names couldn't, and that was a starting position from day one. Football wasn't going to be his career it was a stepping stone to his real career, and that was being a doctor. All indications were that if he kept elevating his level of play each year he would be a top-ten pick in three years. P-J would play 5 maybe 6 years in the NFL and then retire so he could go to Medical School.
P-J sat in his train car as it rolled on through the mid-day, and reflected on all of his life's journey to this point. P-J shared the ride with an elderly couple and a seven year old girl who was going to visit her daddy for the summer. The three of the them were on their way to the town just past Alice, and P-J listened politely when they spoke to him. He enjoyed the fact they were willing to talk about themselves for the majority of the trip. Ever since the team was catapulted into the National Spotlight by a miracle run to a BCS Bowl Game he felt like his time wasn't his own. Speaking engagements,interviews, being a part of the local Catholic Church, and of course the usual fun that comes with being a student-athlete. This was his chance for a while to just relax, see some old friends from school, and of course make some new ones.
During the last couple of weeks of school P-J began showing signs of stress. It seemed like everything was just out of control, and that was when one of his best friends from school stepped in. Rayne Maxwell was going to be spending the summer with some friends in a cabin, and he was allowed to invite some of his friends as well. Rayne could tell that this trip away was just what P-J would need, and he had no idea how right he was.
P-J's parents were initially reluctant to let him go, but since they couldn't afford to send him anywhere when he graduated High School over a year ago they agreed to let him go. Although his father was hoping he would come home and take on the summer job of reorganizing the record room at the Station. However he knew P-J needed to have some fun for a while this year was hard for him.
As the train came to a stop the porter called out on the P-A, "Welcome to the beautiful and scenic city of Alice!"
P-J stood up and said, "That's for me." He gathered his duffle bag and said to his companions, "Thanks for being such great company. Take care and safe travels." P-J smiled at them and got out of the car Once he was on the platform P-J gathered his suitcase and a garment bag. He looked around and asked, "Okay now what McCabe?"
As the train rolled away with the exception of a few workers who were heading back into the station P-J realized he was all alone. P-J shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well you wanted to get away from it all." P-J shook his head and said, "Be careful what you ask for you just might get it."
P-J walked through to the station and out the window he saw a taxi. P-J approached the cab and asked, "Excuse me? Could you get me to this address?"
P-J handed him a piece of paper with an address on it and the driver replied, "Nice address there Chief! Yeah sure no problem hop in." P-J got into the cab and they were on their way.
The driver asked, "So what you got going on up there?"
P-J was taking in the scenery and could feel the stress leaving him. He replied, "Just seeing some friends for the summer."
The driver said, "Wow! I wish I had friends like that."
P-J chuckled and then came the turn up the road to get to the cabin. When P-J saw the cabin he felt his jaw drop and his eyes grow larger. The porch alone was bigger than the bedroom he and his brother Alex shared. P-J shook his head slowly and said under his breath, "Toto I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."
P-J got his luggage out of the taxi and paid the driver. He approached the front door and said, "Okay here goes nothing." With that he opened the door and saw a flurry of activity which made him smile for some reason. P-J then announced, "Hello everyone especially to Rayne Maxwell who invited me here. I am a refugee from Belk Hall Room 106-D seeking asylum for the summer. Name's Peter Jason McCabe, but please call me P-J." | Name: Peter Jason McCabe (Goes by P-J)
Age: 19
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 220
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Orientation: Hetero
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance Also has a scar on his left hand.
General Personality: P-J is sizable and is going to the University of Pittsburgh on a football scholarship, but don't let that fool you. He is an easy going guy who likes hanging out with his friends and enjoys having a good laugh. P-J doesn't believe in using his size to intimidate others and likes helping others. P-J has a sarcastic wit and at times doesn't know when to turn it off. If he goes over the line with it he will be the first to apologize for it and do what he can to have someone forgive him. However do not EVER mistake P-J's kindness for weakness, and if you ever do cross him or hurt one of his friends P-J is not above hurting you. |
48,777 | 1,313 | 11 | 1,169 | 129 | As the train came to a stop at the station, Tyson couldn't help but crack a toothy grin as he looked at the beautiful scenery of the town of Alice. He'd at first been a bit skeptical when his friend Faith had forwarded him an invite to spend the summer at a cabin with a friend of hers, but seeing the place with his own eyes made him happy he'd agreed to come. It was a lot better than spending the summer at a wrestling camp or with his weird Aunt Beatrice, that's for sure.
As he contemplated which of the two would have been worse, a portly fellow took his tab from the seat above him, smiling as he announced they'd arrived at his destination on perfect time. Tyson, nodded his head as he practically leaped from his seat, backpack hooked over his right shoulder and a small carry-on bag his father had let him borrow held tightly in his left hand. Stepping off the train into the brilliance of late afternoon, Tyson spotted a row of taxi's practically beckoning him forward as he tried to take in all the wondrous sights around him. By taking in these sights, however, the young man realized how out of place he looked compared to the majority of those milling about station. Most were dressed very "well-to-do" and the like, while he himself was wearing a simple t-shirt from one of his wrestling meets, blue jeans. and his favorite pair of running shoes. Faith would probably ding him for that, as she had said her friend and the area were very affluent.
At any rate, this thought made him pick up the pace as he hurried over to one of the cabs, the driver bowing his head as he popped the trunk for Tyson to put his things. After tossing his stuff into the back, he hopped into the back of the cab, fiddling with a piece of paper from his wallet as the cab driver waited for directions.
"Uhhh...hmmm..hold on, sorry man. I believe the place I'm supposed to be is called Sunlife Cabin?" Tyson got an odd look from the driver, which caused him to look back at the paper, his cheeks reddening as he did so. "Oh, I mean Starlight Cabin! Sorry man, trying to get my bearings, not used to being in a place like this."
The cab driver simply laughed and told him not to worry about it, asking if the station he had playing would be alright for the twenty minute drive to the cabin. Tyson simply smiled and nodded his head, the cool tunes of Hendrix playing away. A pang of home sickness hit him, as his dad was always listened to the classics, but he knew that would subside as soon as he was at the cabin with his friends.
The drive seemed to be over in the blink of an eye, as the cab driver hopped out to help Tyson remove his luggage from the back. A quick bit of banter broke out as the driver said all services had been paid for on this route, while Tyson felt bad about not repaying the driver for the smooth tunes and drive. Finally they shook hands, Tyson palming a ten dollar bill in the mans hand and rushing off towards the cabin before he could protest.
It looked like the gang was all here, as he saw Faith and Rayne up on the porch, along with a couple other teens he didn't recognize. Well, here goes nothing. he thought to himself as he made his way up to the porch.
"Hey guys! Faith good to see ya and Rayne, I'm surprised pest control allowed you off the train." Tyson laughed as he made his entrance, poking fun as he turned to the others. "I apologize, I'm Tyson, self appointed friend of Faith and Rayne at your service." | Name: Tyson Avery
Age: 18
Height: 6'
Weight: 190
Sex: Male
Orientation: Heterosexual
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance (description &/or image):
General Personality (description): Tyson is kind of a goof ball, but mainly only acts that way as he is actually very shy. This obviously clashes with his outward appearance, being bigger than most guys his age, as well as toned from his time on the school wrestling team. On the inside, he's really a delicate guy, but due to his bulky appearance and joking manner, most aren't aware of this. Not an aggressive guy whatsoever.
Kind of a rough CS, I'll flesh it out more if ya like. |
48,778 | 1,313 | 12 | 2,372 | 285 | Kevin Sinnet strolled out from the bustling station, a black duffle bag hoisted around his slender and sturdy frame. Years of being on his high school baseball team made him adept with carrying bags, so he poised no complaints as he made his way outside with his heavy luggage, where the last radiant rays of the setting sun graced him with a fiery splendor that coated the world in gold. He was momentarily taken aback by the sereneness of the atmosphere, and he allowed the wisps of the cool Summer air tend to his flustered skin, the young man hot after being cooped up in a cramped compartment of a very long train ride. Curious passerby's glanced at him with small smiles and gentle waves as he politely maneuvered himself to the very long line of taxis where generous drives approached the newly arrivals in hopes of earning the last of their commission for the night.
Kevin himself was approached by a middle-age man of a sturdy build, introducing himself as Ryan. "Welcome to the town of Alice, kid! Gorgeous little town, eh?" The man pounded his chest, signalling to the young man that he was a proud native of this refreshing city. Kevin grinned, tipping his blue baseball cap that had a white 'N' emblazoned on the front - his varsity Newberg High School baseball cap that was the only hat he wore. "It really is! What a place. I'm actually a little bit ashamed that I've never visited before." Kevin shook his head in wonder as the burly man let out booming laugh, leading the younger man to the back of the taxi where he popped open trunk. Kevin nodded in thanks, his grin still evident as he dropped his heavy duffle with a loud thud.
"Tha's what all the folks say after comin' here. Well, I can honestly say I speak for the rest of the town when I say Alice is honored to cater to such a polite guest! So where to, youngin'?" The older man patted Kevin roughly on the back, making the boy stumble, but Kevin just bursted out laughing. Man, this was so refreshing. He made the right choice in coming here to escape the harsher realities of his crowded city. It was awfully nice of Rayne to invite him; though the two men got along quite well, they weren't as close to each other as they were to their respective social circles. Still, with most of his buddies being out of state for the Summer, Kevin had Rayne to thank for, for hoisting him a lifeline that saved him from boredom. There was also this other person named Diana that he'd have to thank once he get there; without him, none of this would have been possible. The young man took in a deep breath, closing his eyes and just took the moment to relish in the warmth of the dying sun. He gave a hearty, satisfying stretch before turning to Ryan.
"Ever heard of the Starlight Cabin?" Kevin smiled.
------------------------------------------------------------
The twenty minute car ride was turned into an enchanting journey that exposed Kevin Sinnet to the true beauties of the world. Never before had the young man laid his eyes on such tranquil splendor and vivid colors. For the duration of the ride, the boy had leaned against the window, elbows propped with his chin resting on his wrist and just...took in everything. His mouth was slightly agape, his eyes glazed over, and Ryan just drove onward with the occasional glance at the rear view mirror, grinning in a proud manner. But to Kevin's slightest reluctance, the surreal experience came to an end as the car unexpectedly parked at the edge of a dirt driveway that looped deeper into the woods. However, as Kevin snapped out of his trance, excitement sparked at his core as he could vaguely see the outline of the cabin.
The boy got out of the car, giving a playful yawn as Ryan got out and headed to the trunk. Kevin dusted off his black pants and blue long-sleeve that had it's sleeved rolled up, gingerly making his way to the back, trying to not get dirt on his white sneakers. With the help of the older man, Kevin managed to hoist his bulky duffle over his shoulders with ease. The two men then faced each other as the trunk snapped shut, grinning.
"Nice meeting you, Ryan. Thanks for the smooth, safe ride out here. Damn, what a place." Kevin clucked, shifting his hat cheerfully on his head. The older man laughed, reaching out a hand.
"Anytime, kiddo. You hav fun, y'hear? Be safe, and enjoy the wonders of Alice. If'ya head back to town sometime, be sure to check out the local commodities. We got young women tha' are one of a kind." Ryan winked before letting out a booming laugh as the younger man clasped the gentleman's hand with a sturdy handshake, trading over the money for the ride. Ryan winked again in thanks. With final waves and goodbyes, Kevin watched as the yellow taxi pulled out, made a u-turn, and headed back towards the city. With his signature, boyish smile still on his face, Kevin turned and made headway towards the cabin. As he got closer to the enormous building, he saw a cluster of people mingling on the porch.
"Ah, shoot. Looks like I'm one of the lasts, eh?"
Without hesitation, he strode up and notified his arrival. There on the porch he saw Rayne, and he hollered out, striding up and clasped his friend on the shoulder. He turned to the rest of the folks, beaming, recognizing some faces and registering new ones. He let out a surprised yelp as he saw Callie, a girl that he occasionally bumps into with his rock climbing group, waving at her and grinned brightly. New faces or old ones, he directed a rousing introduction towards them.
"Nice to see you all! My name's Kevin, and it looks like we're in for one hell of a Summer, yeah?" the young man grinned at the crowd, a hand resting on the straps around his shoulder, and the other adjusting his baseball cap playfully. His brown eyes twinkled like the young stars emerging from the darkening sky. "Can't wait to have fun with you all, and let's make the best of it!" | Name: Kevin Sinnet
Age: 19
Height: 5'9
Weight: 135 lbs
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Orientation: Heterosexual
HandedNess: Left
Appearance: A slender, young man with a slightly toned build due to the many physical activities he used to participate in years prior from entering uni. His frame, although thin, can be described as lithe but sturdy. His hair is of medium length, stark under normal lighting conditions but glows a soft golden-brown if presented under the radiance of the sun. The tone of his skin is slightly tan, just a step or two darker than fair. His eyes are pools of chocolate; dark and piercing but warm and comforting. The most defining characteristic about Kevin Sinnet is his smile - slightly crooked, but in a charming, unique manner.
General Personality: Charismatic and sociable, Kevin is an optimistic individual who's not afraid to speak his mind. He's well mannered and understanding, as his public self seems to radiate a certain charm. He tends to get along easily with people, as he puts himself out there and is usually the first one to introduce himself. He's the type of person that accepts everyone equally as he is not a person that judges. Kevin Sinnet's cheerful personality is not over the top, but rather refreshing and genuine. As a private individual, however, Kevin Sinnet is selfish and stubborn. Everything has to be his way, though he hides these hidden desires pretty well. If angered to the point where these values may become vulnerable, he usually becomes silent, distant, and aloof. Light, gentle, respectable and understanding are keywords to describing his refreshing character.
Boom! Here's mine. Can't wait to see all of yours. I'm excited for all of the mingling, drama, and fun. :) |
48,779 | 1,313 | 13 | 2,344 | 303 | Richard heard a familiar voice from behind him and looked to see who it was, and it was none other than Rayne, the person who brought him here in the first place. He smiled brightly at him and after the brief hug they shared Richard went on to answer the question asked of him. "Well I've been doing well today, I just got here in that junker over there." He points to his car that still was sitting in front of the house. "It's not much but it gets the job done. Also I just want to thank you so much for the invitation, without it I would have been cooped up at home having to talk with people I haven't talked to since last summer, and there's a reason I haven't talked to them since last summer." He said with a goofy smile as he realized another yellow cab pulling up.
The woman who walked towards them seemed familiar to Richard, though he couldn't quite put his finger on why she thought she was. However he saw a cat and that made his attention shift, cats were his favourite animal and the addition of one to this specific setting could make the summer even better than he had previously thought it out to be. The woman introduced herself as Calliope, Richard thought it was a nice sounding name, had a certain regal quality to it. "I'm Richard, but most people just call me Rich." He said with a smile and a nod in her direction before he heard the door open.
At first Richard assumed that this must have been another guest that had gotten there before everyone else, but as it turned out this was actually the Diana from the email. He was different than expected, for one thing his gender was different than originally thought, but Richard just thought of it as some Evil Dead thing where the guy has a typical girl name but probably goes by some short-form in order to deal with people thinking weirdly of them. Richard decided not to let it be known that he thought the host was of a different gender than originally thought, that's probably not good for first impressions on people. "Rich Masters here, one of Rayne's many plus ones." He said after Diana introduced himself to the small crowd outside.
Soon came another yellow cab, this one carrying a really built guy. Richard couldn't help but feel a little inadequate when he saw this guy, he was so fit he had to be some kind of football player or weightlifter or like a soldier or something. The man introduced himself as P-J, yet another one of Rayne's guests. Then was another really built guy, this one named Tyson who also came in a yellow cab and who also seemed to Rayne very well. Richard could only think of how many people Rayne must know, he saw the email addresses attached to the invitation but he didn't expect all these people to know him as well as they all seem to.
As he pondered yet another yellow cab dropped someone off. This made Richard feel like he didn't make the best choice taking his own car, was it just that the train was sponsored or was there some other reason everyone decided to take that. He dropped the idea, taking notice of the new person that had just arrived, who was yet another person that Rayne knew really well. However the new person also seemed to know Calliope, which was a bit of a welcome change. This did however make Richard realize that he knew basically no one here other than the on that had invited him, all the more reason why this is a great getaway for him. He once again decided to introduce himself to the people that had shown up since his last introduction. "Hey, in case I didn't already tell you or whatever, I'm Rich." He said with a grin. | Name: Richard "Rich" Masters
Age: 19
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 135
Sex: Male
Gender: Male Identifying
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance: A bit lanky as he is underweight for his age. He's almost never seen without sunglasses on and he's usually wearing some kind of band or media related t-shirt.
General Personality: Layed back and relaxed mostly. What a lot of people would describe as having the personality of a stoner, even if he does not do any drugs. It's not like he could afford a drug habit anyway, being a music major doesn't really facilitate a lot of steady income.
---
Hope this is alright and I didn't leave anything out. |
48,780 | 1,313 | 14 | 2,068 | 425 | Rayne couldn't help but laugh at Richard's description of the car. He laughed because he saw a number of similarities between the owner and the car, but he decided that might sound bad to say out loud.
"You owe me for the invitation, just remember that" He said with a playful grin. "And I figured that it would be a lot more fun with more people" He added, remembering the number of invites he sent out. It was then that he noticed a taxi pull up.
"Speaking of which" He said excitedly as he jumped over and hugged the newly arrived girl tightly.
“Callie!” He said affectionately before letting her go. It was then that he saw something that caught his attention. Upon closer inspection, it was a pet carrier that contained a rather displeased cat. “You brought your cat?” He said as he glanced towards his newly arrived friend. At first he didn’t know what to think, but his head was soon filled with childish adoration for fluffy animals. He poked his finger into the cage to scratch the cat, but quickly withdrew it as the cat made another disgruntled sound.
“I think I will wait until it’s not caged.” He said with a laugh. It was then that he heard a noise behind him. It seemed as though they were being greeted. Rayne looked intently at the boy that was greeting them. He was sure that Diana would have been a girl, so he was a little taken back to see that it was a boy. He leaned in close to him, inspecting his face closely. After a few seconds of intense focus, he smiled and leaned back.
“Faith, why didn’t you tell me our host was so cute” He said with a cheeky grin as he glanced back at her. He looked back towards his new friend and waved. “My name is Rayne, it’s very nice to meet you” He said before he heard something from behind him. He turned around to see another one of his invited friends. It was his football playing pal, P-J.
“P-J!” He said as he ran over and hugged his friend. He let him go and looked up to make eye contact. P-J was a fair bit taller than Rayne was, but that was one of the things that Rayne found cool about him. “Glad you could take a break to come chill” He said with a smile up to him. It was then that he heard another familiar voice come from behind him. He turned around to see Tyson, one of his friends that he didn't invite. He figured the invite must have come from Faith.
"Just for that, you don't get a hug" Rayne said with a pout before crossing his arms and huffing. Tyson was always playing around like that, and Rayne secretly liked it. He wouldn't let anyone know though, so he poked out his tongue like a kid. He then remembered that he had invited a few more people. He turned back to the host for the trip and smiled.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a couple people.” He said as innocently as possible. The invitation said he could bring one person, but then someone might feel left out, so he invited everyone. He was a little surprised as he heard something from behind him. He turned around to see another of his invitations had arrived. Rayne smiled wide as Kevin clasped his shoulder.
“Hey Kevin!” He said as he wrapped his arms around the man playfully. As he released the man, he glanced back over to the others. “I invited everyone” He said as an innocent smile crossed his face. | Name: Rayne Maxwell
Age: 18
Height: 5’7
Weight: 115ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Orientation: A bit of this and a bit of that. (Bisexual)
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance (description &/or image): Rayne is a fairly skinny guy with long arms and legs. Favourite clothes include jeans and long sleeved shirts when it’s cold, and a normal shirt and still jeans when it’s hot.
General Personality (description): In a word, eccentric would be the most fitting for Rayne. He is fun loving and very active, always running around and playing. He is always smiling, doing his best to lighten the mood, even if he is sad or depressed. When asked as a kid ‘What is the one thing you want the most?’ His answer was ‘I want everyone in the world to smile’. This is the motto he lives by every day, doing his best to be happy with his friends. (Side note, he is rather flirtatious with almost everyone he meets) |
48,781 | 1,313 | 15 | 2,686 | 365 | Beep.Beep.Beep.
Without opening her eyes, she reached for her alarm clock and turned it off, making it fall in the process. Raven lay still in bed, enjoying the comforts of her cold room and warm sheets. Opening one eye, she stares at the ceiling quietly. Noticing that her room had an orange glow, she grumbled and closed her eyes once again. "Why am I up so early.. The sun is still rising." She said to herself in a lazy manner. After a few more seconds of relaxation, her eyes shot wide open in alarm. She froze. "I-Is the sun rising.. or setting?" She threw her blanket away from her, getting goose bumps as the cold air hit her skin. She quickly stood up and ran to get her suitcase, opening it frantically and placing it down infront of her closet. She opened her closet and threw one clothing to another, making a mess everywhere. "Tsk. I should have packed last night. Or even the day before that." She complained while putting in some nice, clean clothes into her suitcase and throwing the ones she didn't like behind her. She grabbed one blue dress and stared at it for a few seconds before unsuccessfully throwing it to the bed. It missed and fell on the floor. With a scowl, she stood up and walked over to pick it up and place it neatly on the bed. She quickly went back to her suitcase to close it and ran to her bathroom.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
After a 10 minute shower, she quickly dried her hair with a hair dryer, stopping when her hair was only a little damp. She quickly changed into the blue dress the she had prepared and grabbed a pair of blue flats from her shoe rack. After finally being ready to go, she grabbed her suitcase and dragged it behind her as she made her way out of her room. With effort, she slowly carried her suitcase down the stairs. "Oh miss Hales, let me help you with that." Her butler said. He ran up the stairs and met her halfway, taking the suitcase from her and bringing it down with ease. Raven sighed at the relief of not having to carry such a heavy object. "Thank you." She said quietly as she went down the stairs in a lady-like manner. "Where are you headed to?" Her butler asked as he carried the suitcase to the car. "Dai's cabin. The Starlight Cabin." She answered in an exhausted voice. She followed her butler to the car and stepped inside, closing the door and leaning on the window.
Her butler, John, was a man around his 50's. He has been with her since she was 2 and he has been like a father to her. After placing Raven's suitcase in the trunk, John went over and sat in the driver's seat, adjusting the mirror before starting the engine. "So I see you're finally hanging out with that young boy after such a long time." He said with a smile. "Yeah." She said shortly but with a small smile on her face. She hasn't seen her friend in a year after she dropped out in her last year of highschool due to her poor health. Although she won't openly admit it, she misses her best friend.
The car set out the driveway and Raven closed her eyes, listening to the song on the radio as she drifted into sleep. | Age: 17
Height: 5'5
Weight: 105lbs
Gender: Female
Orientation: Heterosexual
Handedness: Right hand is dominant but she is able to write with her left hand slowly
Appearance: Long black hair, hazel brown eyes, petite
General Personality:
-Might seem mean and closed off at first but starts to open up and become more friendly after getting to know her
-Blunt and can be harsh with words.
-Cares deep inside.
-Neat freak. Makes sure every corner of the house is clean and spotless.
-Mischievous with a wicked sense of humor |
48,782 | 1,313 | 16 | 275 | 114 | As Rayne leaned nearer to him, Dai instinctively inched backwards, bumping lightly into the doorframe behind him, a light blush forming in his face, not only from embarrassment (which doubled when he heard what he took as an off handed compliment) but also from nervousness given the situation. He'd watched car after car pull up and more people, nearly all strangers to him, make their way up onto the porch... "Everyone?" he mumbled, dwelling on that word for a moment, unsure if he should be especially cross or flattered by the... especially friendly stranger.
He sighed lightly and attempted to regain his composure, taking his hands from his face though it still betrayed him, displaying his mixed emotions in both color and expression. Dai smiled, it was an awkward smile but pleasant despite, and he did his best to seem optimistic even with his growing concerns for the situation. "Well, since you're all here I guess that's that then..." he did his best to address everyone at once, "I'm Dai" (though the spelling was left up to individual consideration), "oh and um, welcome, I guess." He stifled a quiet laugh, it was uncomfortable and awkward and genuine but not unfriendly, only then did he look around and notice everyones belongings.
"Oh come inside, erm, we'll figure out rooms in a second I'm sure you're all tired?" He shrugged, giving another awkward smile, which had been present on and off throughout his little speech, and he turned to move further into the entry room, mindful of his other guest, whom may or may not still be resting. He'd noticed Faith among the group, but was much too distracted to be even remotely social just yet... nervous was a better word, he was very, very nervous. | Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe
Age: 19
Height: 5'11
Weight: 120ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Cis Male
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance:
He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes.
General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal. |
48,783 | 1,313 | 17 | 1,612 | 745 | P-J embraced Rayne back and was smiling even more broadly than when he arrived. P-J said, "Great seeing you Rayne. Again thanks for the invite here it's so what I needed."
Rayne went on to greet some others and P-J just took it all in. He was seeing so many people he didn't know and yet he felt like he should. All that being said P-J was used to being comfortable in a room full of people he didn't know, Every Saturday 20,000-25,000 cheered for him as he hit the field and played like there was no tomorrow. In this case though P-J didn't feel the pressure to perform for this group, and P-J felt a great sense of relief wash over him. That he could just be himself even though he only really knew Rayne and a few of others from some of his classes was okay with him.
One thing that once again stood out to P-J was that he was the tallest guy in the room. Ever since he was 17 he was tied with being the tallest person in his family. P-J was the seventh of eight kids and for years his siblings would razz him about his age. Then came one morning when they all stood up at St. Matthew's Roman Catholic Church, and P-J was the same height as the oldest sibling Patrick. Last year he passed him and P-J loved the fact that he now towered over everyone else. Then again though his father was very quick to point he could still knock him down with one punch. Growing up in a somewhat tough part of town P-J's dad made sure his kids could handle themselves, and to that end he taught them all boxing techniques.
Just then someone by Dai introduced himself, and clearly he was caught off guard by what was going on. This whole situation reminded P-J of the many parties back in his hometown. One person tells a friend that the folks are going out of town, and that they are gonna raid the liquor cabinet. Then that person tells another, then another, and before you know it you gotta a riot. Although it didn't happen to often in his neighborhood, because it was pretty amazing how well-behaved people were when they found out that there was a cop living in the neighborhood.
Dai tried to look pleasant and friendly but his nervousness was showing. P-J grabbed his gear and began to walk in. As he did he made a point to stop and talk to Dai. P-J said, "P-J McCabe thanks for letting Rayne invite me. I'll do what I can to make sure you don't regret this." He gave a nod and said, "It'll be okay. Listen if I have to crash on a couch that's okay it won't be the first time. I do it at least once a week in the film room at the Athletic Complex."
With that P-J walked into the cabin and was amazed at how massive and just welcoming it all felt.
He said, "Yep I think this has the makings of a great summer." | Name: Peter Jason McCabe (Goes by P-J)
Age: 19
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 220
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Orientation: Hetero
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance Also has a scar on his left hand.
General Personality: P-J is sizable and is going to the University of Pittsburgh on a football scholarship, but don't let that fool you. He is an easy going guy who likes hanging out with his friends and enjoys having a good laugh. P-J doesn't believe in using his size to intimidate others and likes helping others. P-J has a sarcastic wit and at times doesn't know when to turn it off. If he goes over the line with it he will be the first to apologize for it and do what he can to have someone forgive him. However do not EVER mistake P-J's kindness for weakness, and if you ever do cross him or hurt one of his friends P-J is not above hurting you. |
48,784 | 1,313 | 18 | 585 | 754 | Faith was surprised by how quickly the others arrived after she had come to the door. She said a few hellos and heys as they gathered about. When Dai arrived at the door, Faith smiled widely, happy to see her friend once again. Faith quickly disregard Rayne's comment on how Dai was cute. She agreed but wasn't much one for stating as such. Faith was surprised that Tyson actually showed up, she had sent him the invite at the last minute to sort of be a douche.
"I agree that this will be a great summer. Shouldn't be too hard having fun at this place. It is quite the place you have here Dai!" Faith said with a wide grin across her face. It wasn't rare for her to smile anymore but she was truly astonished by the, well, richness of the place. "It might be best to figure out exactly how we are going to sleep in this place. We can't really have the boys sleeping with us girls right." Faith said jokingly. She wasn't too worried about Dai doing anything but it might be a bit hard for someone so shy as him. "So, which way to the rooms?" Faith stated quickly to cover the somewhat bland joke. Faith was happy to be living in such a beautiful place for the summer and with some people she hadn't seen in a while. There was even a few faces she had never met but would be happy to meet. | Name:Faith Simmons
Age:17
Height:5'7
Weight:134lbs
Sex: Female
Gender: Female
Orientation:Pansexual(means she dates based on personality not gender)
HandedNess:
General Personality (description): Faith is not much one for ideal conversation but she takes as much part in it as possible. She is a generally nice girl with a bit of a temper problem. In the past, Faith use to cut herself but she has stopped leaving behind only a few scars on her arms that she tries to cover. Faith likes people who give stimulating and intelligent conversation. She will never curse but will try to hit something should she get angry. She is quick to make up her mind about people and few things change her mind once it is set. Faith gives everyone she meets a degree of trust which is hard to lose. |
48,785 | 1,313 | 19 | 1,375 | 153 | Eleanor heard a faint mutter of people around her, and slowly opened her eyes, the snooze she had made her feel refreshed and relieved the pain from her forehead. The ice pack she was holding against it was now some warmish mush in a bag. She slowly sat up from her legs tucked into her stomach position and placed both feet onto the floor gently. She yawned loudly and stretched her arms out as wide as she could.
As she looked by the front there were many people, 'I didn't know this many people were coming?' she asked herself, before searching the crowd of people for Raven, hmm no sign of her. She stood up and walked slightly closer to see if she was hiding behind one of the tall boys but that wasn't the answer either.
"Is Raven here yet?" she tugged at Diana's sleeve and rubbing her eye at the same time almost like some preschooler. | Name: Eleanor/Ellie Dove
Age: 17 (just turned last week)
Height: 5"5
Weight: 116lb
Sex:Female
Gender: Female
Orientation: Hetero/experimental
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance (description &/or image): lots of images (i got carried away shiina is too pretty)
General Personality (description): If you do not know her Eleanor is a quiet girl-not shy just quiet. She will speak her mind but not in the strongest fashions and always has something to say but she will keep it under her breath. The first impression of Eleanor is a pushover girl considering her scholarship in art and speaking a different language (french). However once you get to know her she is quirky, confident, excited, hyper and down right annoying, Although she seems calm at all times.She enjoys winding people up and being sarcastic. |
48,786 | 1,313 | 20 | 275 | 114 | I'll do what I can to make sure you don't regret this.
Dai broke into a smirk, almost laughing despite himself; "'Kay, that wasn't suggestive at all..." he mumbled before turning his attention back to what everyone else was doing. He couldn't help but keep smiling, but it was becoming more genuine as his stress subsided due to general hopeless acceptance of the situation, and turning to Faith for the first time, he nodded and said quietly, and a bit sarcastically; "Yeah, just us girls." That's how he'd intended it anyway, and more and more it was becoming evident that he had to deal with the massive discomfort of being surrounded by all of the guys he didn't know (for the entire summer no less)... he had hard enough trouble talking to one let alone several.
"Rooms right... uh,-" Dai was beginning to say 'uh' a lot, and his words seemed half formed a little rushed despite the slowness of his general speech, "-okay so there are...-" he paused, crossing his arms, trying to remember as he subconsciously counted with his fingers, little tapping motions against his upper arm, "-there are two queen sized beds, one's mine and the other is technically my parents, but they've never actually been up here so no worries... and there are two other beds in the loft that are both full sized. Then we have... lots of couches... I guess...", he shifted a little awkwardly and tried to figure out how to word the next bit; "it all depends on who is willing to snuggle up I guess. Faith, you-" he stopped as Eleanor came up to him, and he glanced down at her like a teacher would a child... though this was mostly due to his height, "-no she's not here yet doll. Um... uh... okay so the two bed rooms are upstairs and so are the two 'guest beds'", he literally added air-quotes to this, which isn't dorky in the least.
"I guess y'all can figure it out for yourselves?" He hadn't personally gotten settled yet, but something told him he'd end up on the floor one way or another. | Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe
Age: 19
Height: 5'11
Weight: 120ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Cis Male
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance:
He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes.
General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal. |
48,787 | 1,313 | 21 | 2,372 | 285 | Kevin Sinnet turned his head as the focus of the group shifted to a tall, thin man standing closest to the doorway that would lead them inside the wooden palace. He tilted his head curiously, categorizing the lengthier man as someone whom he'd never met before, but smiled as Kevin realized that he was the honorable host. Diana - or Dai, as he introduced himself, kindly invited them all inside, and so Kevin complied with a beam. Shifting his bag that was resting against his hips, the young man pushed himself politely through the door frame. The matters of rooming were being discussed, and Kevin took the opportunity of confusion to claim a sport worthy of his sleeping frame. Being slightly competitive in nature, he had to be the first one choosing.
As he slipped through the crowd, the shorter man stopped momentarily as he approached the gracious host. "Hiya, Dai. Thanks for everything, man. I'm Kevin, and I hope we can become friends as the days cruise by." Giving Dai his signature, crooked grin, Kevin strode on by, where he almost bumped into a young lady with flowing, blonde hair and bright eyes. "Oops," he smiled as he examined the petite girl (Eleanor), "my bad. I'm Kevin, by the way." He gave her a little wave of greetings before smoothly sidestepping away and continued to one of the large couches that occupied the spacious living room. Slinging the duffle off his shoulder on to the couch that was directly facing the fire place, Kevin gave a cheerful and hearty stretch before turning to the crowd at the doorway.
"As of right now, I claim this spot Sinnet's territory, and between the hours of God-knows-when-we'll-sleep, this is where I'll be bunking." He grinned at them playfully, before softening his features into a genuine smile. He's already been tended with much hospitality; he would reserve the beds for whoever would need it more than he did. "Hope that's all okay with you, and that we'll get along very well together during the duration of our stay here." Turning to the host once again, Kevin gave a slight bow. "Thanks again, Dai." The young man laughed as he playfully tilted his baseball cap, sinking into the couch with a content sigh. | Name: Kevin Sinnet
Age: 19
Height: 5'9
Weight: 135 lbs
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Orientation: Heterosexual
HandedNess: Left
Appearance: A slender, young man with a slightly toned build due to the many physical activities he used to participate in years prior from entering uni. His frame, although thin, can be described as lithe but sturdy. His hair is of medium length, stark under normal lighting conditions but glows a soft golden-brown if presented under the radiance of the sun. The tone of his skin is slightly tan, just a step or two darker than fair. His eyes are pools of chocolate; dark and piercing but warm and comforting. The most defining characteristic about Kevin Sinnet is his smile - slightly crooked, but in a charming, unique manner.
General Personality: Charismatic and sociable, Kevin is an optimistic individual who's not afraid to speak his mind. He's well mannered and understanding, as his public self seems to radiate a certain charm. He tends to get along easily with people, as he puts himself out there and is usually the first one to introduce himself. He's the type of person that accepts everyone equally as he is not a person that judges. Kevin Sinnet's cheerful personality is not over the top, but rather refreshing and genuine. As a private individual, however, Kevin Sinnet is selfish and stubborn. Everything has to be his way, though he hides these hidden desires pretty well. If angered to the point where these values may become vulnerable, he usually becomes silent, distant, and aloof. Light, gentle, respectable and understanding are keywords to describing his refreshing character.
Boom! Here's mine. Can't wait to see all of yours. I'm excited for all of the mingling, drama, and fun. :) |
48,788 | 1,313 | 22 | 350 | 60 | After the hellos were said and everyone began moving inside, Calliope knelt down to release Rosco from his carrier. The feline shot free, only to begin winding his way between her legs, his bright green eyes restlessly darting around as he took in his new surroundings. Some flicker of movement in the trees seemed to catch his attention and he was off like an arrow from a string. A gust of wind, cool with the oncoming night, shook enough of her blonde hair free of the fairly tidy bun that Calliope no longer felt the hair tie was necessary. Plucking it out, she rubbed her fingers along the scalp and hair roots, easing the soreness that often came with having her hair up too long. Lifting the now pleasantly light carrier and her backpack, Calliope made her way towards the cabin door behind the rest of the crowd. Her movements were unhurried, allowing everyone else to bombard Dai with their gratitude as they passed. Adding her own thanks seemed trivial when on the coattails of everyone else's, but she paused as well to offer him another easy smile.
“Thanks for saving me from prison, Dai. A summer with my little brother would have ended up being full of blood and sweet, sweet silence.” Laughing to show she wasn't serious despite having frequently imagined locking her brother in a closet for a few hours or days, Calliope slipped past the host and further into the main room. She eyed Kevin's claimed spot and shook her head, teeth flashing in a grin. With a slight jiggle of the pet carrier, she defended the absent Rosco: “I'm pretty sure the cat will disagree. Or use your face as a pillow – either way, I can't imagine him not hogging the hearth.”
Figuring she wouldn't be taking a bed because cuddling with random people wasn't her idea of a good time, Calliope set her luggage beside a second couch before approaching the fire place and Kevin's claimed makeshift bed. Moving to the opposite end of his couch, she pivoted on her heel and plopped. Although she didn't consider herself particularly heavy, the couch sank in around her body and formed a luxurious little haven. Knocking her shoes off, a pair of navy Keds with tiny white polka dots, Calliope set them neatly beside the couch and drew her legs up against her body. She was simply too comfortable in jeans and a worn blue t-shirt to stay awake late into the night if things didn't escalate.
Leaning against the arm of the couch, she peered at the mingling group with some curiosity. The host seemed surprised and even a little alarmed by so many warm bodies pressing in close to him, though he was beyond fault in terms of politeness and hostliness, or whatever the word for it was. Idly rubbing her feet, Calliope turned her attention to the windows and the various opportunities beyond – swimming and climbing some trees both sounded like things she'd need to do in the next 48 hours. I wonder if they have any mountains nearby... probably should have looked out the window instead of at a book, she thought, chewing the inside of her cheek. | Name
Calliope (Ka-ly-oh-pee)
Nickname
Callie, based on spelling rather than pronunciation
Age
18
Sex
Female
Gender
Female
Orientation
Straight
Height
5'6"
Weight
130 lbs
Appearance
She is not quite slim, but being active and the blessed metabolism of good genetics has kept her weight steady. She is likely more squish than muscle, despite liking to spend time outdoors being active. Her hair is considered fine and straight, both naturally blonde and artificially lightened. Eyes that dance between a clear evening's azure and a stormy grey sky seem darker and more dramatic against her fair skin, free of freckles but for her shoulders. She tries to wear contacts but has little patience for discomfort and often ends up wearing glasses instead.
Handedness
Right
Personality
If asked to describe herself, Calliope would probably struggle and end up just saying her likes, which are decently rounded in terms of variety: knitting and rappelling, cats and kickboxing. Reading a book while laying on a blanket with a hot sun and cool wind, the smell of spring all around her. After that, perhaps she'd find characteristics, but Calliope has always been suspicious of self-evaluations, figuring a person is always predisposed to be somewhat wrong about themselves, whether in too good or too negative a fashion. In the same frame she's critical of most things dealing with online tests or astrology, preferring rather a clean and precise science. A mellow woman, her voice is uncommonly low and smooth of tone, making her often seem as if she's on the verge of sleep or without a care in the world. Her laughter is quick and easy but ofttimes she misses the joke due to taking it a little too literally, worse sometimes because her ability for subtlety has never been wholly present. She's usually optimistic but never quite reaches bubbly, her temper seldom sparking but being the worse when it does. |
48,789 | 1,313 | 23 | 2,344 | 303 | Richard could understand how uncomfortable Diana, whom he now knew as Dai, must have felt, if a ton of people he didn't know showed up at his apartment without his knowledge, he wouldn't really know what to do either. That being said, Richard's apartment was only slightly smaller than the area he could immediately see when he looked into the house so it wouldn't exactly fit the amount of people that were showing up uninvited here. Still, it made him feel a pang of regret of not even bothering to learn anything about the set-up here before showing up as he could have at least made some attempt to tell the host he was going to be coming along.
At of that was forgotten though the moment he stepped into the "cabin". He looked around and only two words could come to his mind. "Holy shit" He said a bit louder than he expected it to be. This place was huge, Richard had never seen so much space that could still be considered interior. He knew that this was an expensive place but he never thought that there could be someplace so expansive. To him expensive was a studio apartment in Manhatten with floor to ceiling windows and modern design choices, not a castle in the wilderness. He ran his hand through his hair before turning his attention back to Dai, who was giving instructions on how the rooms would be arranged. While a bed seemed nice, Richard didn't want to take it away from anyone else and the couches in this house look super comfortable anyway.
He looked at Dai and simply said "You've got an amazing place here..." before he saw the man he knew as Kevin and the girl with the nice name, Calliope, both pick spots. Not wanting to be left without one Richard decided to use this opportunity to spring into action and grab a good sleeping area. And what is really meant by "Spring into action" was for Richard to slowly walk over to a couch in the same general region as the other two and flop down face first onto it. Muffled by the cushions he said "I hope no one minds me taking this couch." He felt like he could fall asleep right then and there, it was more comfortable than his bed at home for sure, and his car that he would sleep in from time to time. Thinking of the car brought a sudden pang of realization him and he let out a loud "Ugggggghhhhh" sound with his face still buried in the cushions. He still had all his stuff in the car even though he felt so comfortable just laying here. He'd have to at least get off at some point to bring it all in. | Name: Richard "Rich" Masters
Age: 19
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 135
Sex: Male
Gender: Male Identifying
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance: A bit lanky as he is underweight for his age. He's almost never seen without sunglasses on and he's usually wearing some kind of band or media related t-shirt.
General Personality: Layed back and relaxed mostly. What a lot of people would describe as having the personality of a stoner, even if he does not do any drugs. It's not like he could afford a drug habit anyway, being a music major doesn't really facilitate a lot of steady income.
---
Hope this is alright and I didn't leave anything out. |
48,790 | 1,313 | 24 | 2,686 | 365 | Raven was suddenly awoken when the car passed by a bump on the road. She rubbed her eyes and looked around, it was getting pretty dark now and she hasn't arrived in the cabin yet. The town of Alice was a one hour drive away from her house and from Alice, they still have to make their way to the cabin which was located in the lakeside near the woods, far away from society. Yawning, she grabbed a pair of chocolate bar from the seat pocket in front of her. She placed lots of chocolates, candies, and lollipops in there for situations like this wherein she will have to sit in a car for at least more than an hour. Her mouth watered at the first bite and her stomach grumbled, making her realize just how hungry she was. She hasn't eaten a single meal today and she was really looking forward to having dinner with her few friends.
"Are we almost there?" She asked a bit impatiently, she was getting hungrier by the minute and the hunger made her physically weak and tired.
"We'll be there in 15 minutes or less" John replied. Raven leaned on the chair and sighed, looking at the view outside the window while taking another bite of the chocolate bar. The town was a peaceful town indeed. She thought as she saw a group of friends walking their dogs and chattering away. In another corner, there was an old couple laughing together and enjoying eachother's company.
By the time she took the last bite of the chocolate bar, the car slowed down and the cabin appeared into view. She stood up straight and brought herself closer to the window to look at the cabin. Just as she did that, the car came to a halt. "We're here." John said. She threw the wrapper inside the tiny trash bin inside her car and excitedly went out of the car, making her way to the trunk. John followed and opened the trunk, bringing her suitcase out. "Thank you for driving me here." She said gratefully. "Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner? I'm sure Dai won't mind." She offered. "I'm fine, go to your friend and have fun. I already ate before we left the house." He answered with a warm smile, and the wrinkles by his eyes showed. Raven nodded and slowly walked to the front porch.
She looked back to see the car take off, watching it disappear as it went on further. She brought back her attention to the door that was right in front of her. With a deep breath, she rang the doorbell.
Ding. Dong. | Age: 17
Height: 5'5
Weight: 105lbs
Gender: Female
Orientation: Heterosexual
Handedness: Right hand is dominant but she is able to write with her left hand slowly
Appearance: Long black hair, hazel brown eyes, petite
General Personality:
-Might seem mean and closed off at first but starts to open up and become more friendly after getting to know her
-Blunt and can be harsh with words.
-Cares deep inside.
-Neat freak. Makes sure every corner of the house is clean and spotless.
-Mischievous with a wicked sense of humor |
48,791 | 1,313 | 25 | 1,375 | 153 | 'is Raven coming?' she asked herself as she looked around seeing no other familiar faces.
She tuned her hearing to everyone else and noticed the discussion of 'beds'.
"I could sleep on the couch.." she said quietly knowing she'd comfortably be small enough to fit, a queen size bed would engulf her. She stood quietly watching everyone move around and talk to each other.
"How many more people are coming?" she asked softly facing Diana's directions deluded into thinking he must know. She was calculating how many people would be on a couch or bed. She took a look at a few tall people on the couch, 'I would feel bad if I slept on the bed' although the sofas were large she would still have more room on one compared to the other people. | Name: Eleanor/Ellie Dove
Age: 17 (just turned last week)
Height: 5"5
Weight: 116lb
Sex:Female
Gender: Female
Orientation: Hetero/experimental
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance (description &/or image): lots of images (i got carried away shiina is too pretty)
General Personality (description): If you do not know her Eleanor is a quiet girl-not shy just quiet. She will speak her mind but not in the strongest fashions and always has something to say but she will keep it under her breath. The first impression of Eleanor is a pushover girl considering her scholarship in art and speaking a different language (french). However once you get to know her she is quirky, confident, excited, hyper and down right annoying, Although she seems calm at all times.She enjoys winding people up and being sarcastic. |
48,792 | 1,313 | 26 | 2,068 | 425 | As he walked through the door, Rayne was almost knocked off his feet. He hadn't seen a house this inviting since he was a little kid visiting his grandparents. With a childish smile he put his bags to the side and ran around the large room they had walked into. He admired the many couches and beautiful décor while laughing like a pre-schooler. As he arrived back to the group, he heard mention of bedding arrangements. Truly, Rayne didn't care where or who he slept with, as long as he could lie down he was happy. He looked over as he heard a strange sound from Richards now claimed bed. He let out a bit of a laugh. ‘I can already tell this is going to be a great summer’ He thought to himself as he tuned back into the bedding conversation.
“Personally, I am happy anywhere” He said with an innocent tone. He glanced over to Dai and smiled deviously. “And I don’t mind sharing at all” He said before winking at their new host. His reaction from earlier was so entertaining that Rayne couldn't help but tease him just a little. It was then that he noticed someone that he hadn't seen before. It was a rather innocent looking girl with long blond hair. He smiled as he waved over in her direction. He was about to introduce himself when there was a ring at the door.
“More people are here?” Rayne asked excitedly as he looked around the people in the group. He couldn't help but be a little curious at who could be arriving. All of his invitations had shown up, so anyone else was a new person. Rayne liked new people. He made his way to the door and peeked out. There was a girl with long black hair and a very regal air about her.
“There is a girl with black hair at the door” He announced before looking back to Dai. He had always been told that he shouldn't invite people into someone else’s house, although the urge to throw the door open and welcome them was very tempting. | Name: Rayne Maxwell
Age: 18
Height: 5’7
Weight: 115ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Orientation: A bit of this and a bit of that. (Bisexual)
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance (description &/or image): Rayne is a fairly skinny guy with long arms and legs. Favourite clothes include jeans and long sleeved shirts when it’s cold, and a normal shirt and still jeans when it’s hot.
General Personality (description): In a word, eccentric would be the most fitting for Rayne. He is fun loving and very active, always running around and playing. He is always smiling, doing his best to lighten the mood, even if he is sad or depressed. When asked as a kid ‘What is the one thing you want the most?’ His answer was ‘I want everyone in the world to smile’. This is the motto he lives by every day, doing his best to be happy with his friends. (Side note, he is rather flirtatious with almost everyone he meets) |
48,793 | 1,313 | 27 | 275 | 114 | Dai listened quietly to every passing comment, the initial panic he'd faced earlier having given way to thoughtful compliance and a natural desire to keep things organized. He turned his attention momentarily back to Eleanor whom posed a very important question... how many more people were coming anyway? He mulled this over a moment, and then, in an almost defeated yet comical tone he whispered back, "Everyone I guess." He smiled faintly, attempting to be reassuring somehow but came up with no other opinion, he could ask Rayne for an approximate number but it wouldn't help much given how long ago the invitations would have been sent out, so Dai decided, whatever happened happened, and that was that.
He explained in limited detail in response to Richard's comment that the cabin was bought by his parents as a means to bond with him as a child, but they'd never found time to actually visit as previously mentioned. Decidedly, he left out the bit about how terrified he was when he was left alone. "Okay so, three couches down, one to go?" There were four in total, two in the living room and two out where they stood in the entry hall, one of which the boy named... Dai thought it was Richard, had claimed already.
It dawned on him that Calliope had made a joke about imprisonment, and he'd been too caught up in his planning to respond, but all the same he let on a faint smile knowing there was someone with good humor among them. Just as he was about to offer a suggestion about the bed arrangements Rayne spoke to him, so he turned to give them his full attention, though he had been admittedly blocking them out as they sped around the room moments earlier.
"And I don’t mind sharing at all”
A quiet; "Oh..." Was all Dai could muster, his face reddening again despite himself, but thankfully then there was a very loud, very obnoxious ringing in the house again that echoed throughout the cabin and he wondered why no one else was terribly alarmed when it did, as he himself had physically recoiled slightly (and he was supposedly very used to the noise). Only now was he again aware of the music playing in the background, as he listened to the vague description he smiled faintly, and turned toward Eleanor; "That's probably Raven eh?" and moved to open the door, he tried not to make it terribly obvious he had to struggle to open it as he always did, but in the back of his mind he was painfully aware how sad he must have looked before it did move.
Standing there on the porch, lovely as he remembered her, was a friend he hadn't seen in a very long time, so he smiled, and speaking quite softly said; "Hey Ray." | Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe
Age: 19
Height: 5'11
Weight: 120ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Cis Male
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance:
He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes.
General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal. |
48,794 | 1,313 | 28 | 2,686 | 365 | Being as impatient as she was, Raven was about to ring the doorbell once again when the door opened slightly and slowly. Her hand was suspended mid air near the doorbell as she stared at the door, waiting for the person who was struggling behind it to be seen. Standing in front of her was her best friend, Dai, who was noticeably inches taller than the last time she's seen him. Like always, he had that sweet, gentle smile on his face that made her feel safe and secure. Unable to contain the happiness that she felt upon seeing him, she puts her suitcase down and hugs him, which she realizes was the first time she ever did in their years of friendship. After pulling away, she smiled and looked at him, "You've grown taller. Now I actually have to look up when i'm talking to you." She said as she picked her suitcase up. "And that's unfair." She said jokingly. Bringing her attention back to him, she sees movement behind him from the corner of her eyes and that was the only time she payed attention to what was behind him. She looked over his shoulder, which she had to stand on the tip of her toes to do, and noticed a guy with light brown hair and a girl with long blonde hair, which she recognized to be Eleanor. "You never told me you were inviting a guy friend over." She said nonchalantly, not forgetting to put stress on the word friend. Just as she was about to look away, she noticed one more person.. and another.. and another one.. Feeling overwhelmed by the amount of strangers there were, she straightened up her posture and looked at Dai silently. Her face was flushed red in embarrassment at the thought that all these strangers saw a side of her that she never shows to anyone besides Dai and Eleanor. Suddenly, a loud grumbling sound broke the silence. "So.. What's for dinner..?" was all she could silently say. | Age: 17
Height: 5'5
Weight: 105lbs
Gender: Female
Orientation: Heterosexual
Handedness: Right hand is dominant but she is able to write with her left hand slowly
Appearance: Long black hair, hazel brown eyes, petite
General Personality:
-Might seem mean and closed off at first but starts to open up and become more friendly after getting to know her
-Blunt and can be harsh with words.
-Cares deep inside.
-Neat freak. Makes sure every corner of the house is clean and spotless.
-Mischievous with a wicked sense of humor |
48,795 | 1,313 | 29 | 275 | 114 | Dai shrugged with understanding as well as acknowledgment as he muttered; "He's not- uh, I mean, I don't know him erm... there was a bit of trouble with the guest list...." the redness in his face was still present if not enhanced, and in that they shared mutual expressions of discomfort. "I wouldn't worry, they're all pretty distracted right now... oh and Eleanor's been waiting for you, bumped her head earlier." His sentences were rushed, a lot to do, and despite his joy in seeing his friend he really needed to get things settled inside, so he turned, gesturing lightly into the room and announced in a voice so practiced it was definitely out of place; "May I introduce, miss Raven Hales." Diana turned back to his friend and nodded slightly, reassuringly, before speaking again; "You, Eleanor and Faith can share my room if you'd like. I'll find-" he turned toward Rayne and winked sarcastically as he placed a light hand on their shoulder for the moment; "somewhere to sleep." But all in all he mostly looked silly given the redness of his face. | Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe
Age: 19
Height: 5'11
Weight: 120ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Cis Male
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance:
He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes.
General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal. |
48,796 | 1,313 | 30 | 1,612 | 745 | P-J looked around and took in the whole "who's sleeping where" situation. He grew up in house with 7 other siblings, but luckily the ages were spaced out enough that they never really had to deal this issue too often. Unless extended family came to visit, and then things got a bit cramped. During those times P-J's older brother Patrick usually put a couple people up at his place, and that was P-J and the third oldest brother Johnny. All that being said P-J was now just looking for a place to drop his gear and get to know his new roomies.
He was going to take one of the couches, but it seemed as though they were all being taken. With that P-J headed upstairs and saw one of the full sized beds in the loft. He said, "If no one else minds..." P-J dropped his stuff and said, " I claim this land for Spain!" He opened up his duffel bag and took out his Kindle and began charging it. Then P-J took out one more item and placed it on the nightstand; a picture of him and his family at Patrick's wedding day. It was about 4 years old but it was his favorite picture because the entire family was together.
Once that was done P-J felt comfortable enough that it was time to let the group see the real him. This was a side he revealed to hardly anyone at all. In fact his parents didn't even know this about him. P-J slipped out of his blue golf shirt and put on his favorite T-Shirt in the world; his gray Batman T-Shirt. For all his athletic prowess and the way he carried himself on and off the field P-J was a comic-book/sci-fi geek from head to toe. His favorite character was of course Batman and he owned a lot of the merchandise, and he kept it all at Patrick's house. Patrick was a comic book geek as well so this was something he and P-J bonded over. Although those who knew never gave P-J any lip about it, because at his height and weight not many wanted to make P-J too upset.
He then slipped off his deck shoes and put on his running shoes. Finally P-J felt like himself his favorite T-Shirt, blue jeans, and running shoes yep this outfit felt as natural to him as his football uniform. P-J took a deep breath and said, "Ahh now it's time to relax."
P-J went downstairs and opened the fridge. He saw several bottles of water and P-J said, "I could use one of these." He grabbed a bottle of water and opened it up. As he got ready to drink it P-J pulled out his wallet and laid two 50 dollar bills on a desk nearby the kitchen area. P-J said, "This is to help with the expenses. Need anymore more let me know." P-J wasn't a rich kid by any standard, but he did have some money saved up and his dad slipped him some money as well. P-J realized that all of the guests coming up here was overwhelming Dai so he figured he would do what he could.
P-J grabbed a seat along the bar and just began to take it all in. | Name: Peter Jason McCabe (Goes by P-J)
Age: 19
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 220
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Orientation: Hetero
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance Also has a scar on his left hand.
General Personality: P-J is sizable and is going to the University of Pittsburgh on a football scholarship, but don't let that fool you. He is an easy going guy who likes hanging out with his friends and enjoys having a good laugh. P-J doesn't believe in using his size to intimidate others and likes helping others. P-J has a sarcastic wit and at times doesn't know when to turn it off. If he goes over the line with it he will be the first to apologize for it and do what he can to have someone forgive him. However do not EVER mistake P-J's kindness for weakness, and if you ever do cross him or hurt one of his friends P-J is not above hurting you. |
48,797 | 1,313 | 31 | 1,375 | 153 | Eleanor waved back at the man and smiled a little, she nodded politely before turning to Raven who had just walked through the door.
"Raven!" She said excitedly but quietly before wrapping her arms around her. Her and Raven used to be close but slowly drifted once she left.
As Ellie stepped back a few paces to let Raven enter she took her time and looked around at everyone.
Many people had already claimed sofas at this point so sharing a room with close friends didn't seem like such a bad idea.
Now that eleanor came to think of it there were a lot of people. She didn't recognise any of them, 'Diana must know loads of people!' She thought to herself watching everyone move about still. Although it was calmer to when she first woke up, a few people sitting on their claimed couches, a few by the door and one by the kitchen.
She yawned loudly still half asleep and pushed her hair out of her eyes flinching as she touched her bruise.
"What should we do now then?" She questioned yawning again. | Name: Eleanor/Ellie Dove
Age: 17 (just turned last week)
Height: 5"5
Weight: 116lb
Sex:Female
Gender: Female
Orientation: Hetero/experimental
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance (description &/or image): lots of images (i got carried away shiina is too pretty)
General Personality (description): If you do not know her Eleanor is a quiet girl-not shy just quiet. She will speak her mind but not in the strongest fashions and always has something to say but she will keep it under her breath. The first impression of Eleanor is a pushover girl considering her scholarship in art and speaking a different language (french). However once you get to know her she is quirky, confident, excited, hyper and down right annoying, Although she seems calm at all times.She enjoys winding people up and being sarcastic. |
48,798 | 1,313 | 32 | 2,344 | 303 | Richard heard the door open again and rolled over to face the door way. He smiled at the newcomer as Dai introduced her to everyone and Richard waved lazily at the woman he now knew as Raven. Another name Richard thought was nice, however it did remind him of a specific short story written by Edgar Allen Poe, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, probably The Tell-Tale Heart. So many new names to remember on this trip how could Richard ever keep track of them all.
Richard decided that he should probably get up to get the supplies he had packed for the trip and bring them inside. After a few moments of mentally preparing himself to get up, he decided it would probably just be better if he rolled off the couch. He hit the ground with a moderate thud and a groan before he picked himself up and rubbed his arm, which had hit the ground first. It didn't really hurt at all, but he wasn't exactly someone with a high pain tolerance so it did sting a little but that would pass. Taking a mental note to not do that again even if he was feeling particularly unmotivated to move.
He made his way out the door and towards his car until he opened the passenger's seat and took out his SG and amp which he proceeded to bring inside post-haste and place beside the couch he was taking. He then went back out and opened his back of clothes which was almost full, he took the blanket and pillow he had just laying around on the seat and attempted to fit them into the duffle bag with moderate success. The bag could almost be closed all the way, except for one end where about 3 inches of zipper remained open. He brought it in and put it beside the guitar and then made his way towards the kitchen. Richard opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water and leaned on the counter across from P-J. "Hey." Richard said with a smile. | Name: Richard "Rich" Masters
Age: 19
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 135
Sex: Male
Gender: Male Identifying
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance: A bit lanky as he is underweight for his age. He's almost never seen without sunglasses on and he's usually wearing some kind of band or media related t-shirt.
General Personality: Layed back and relaxed mostly. What a lot of people would describe as having the personality of a stoner, even if he does not do any drugs. It's not like he could afford a drug habit anyway, being a music major doesn't really facilitate a lot of steady income.
---
Hope this is alright and I didn't leave anything out. |
48,799 | 1,313 | 33 | 2,068 | 425 | Rayne couldn’t help but laugh a little at the mention of ‘guy friend’. The first his first meeting with both of these people and he already knew he would have fun here. He grinned as the girl started to blush and waved at her with a grin. It seemed like her and Dai were pretty close friends, so he figured she must be a pretty nice girl. His attention was turned back to their host as he fumbled over his words, his cheeks growing redder. He chuckled to himself before turning back into the conversation.
“Nice to meet you Raven!” He said in a happy tone after being introduced by Dai. “My name is Rayne and I look forward to becoming your friend” He said with a grin before the blond girl from earlier ran past him and hugged the newest arrival. It seemed as though she had been waiting for her for quite a while. Then the topic shifted back to the sleeping. It seemed as though Dai had decided to put the girls in one room, leaving the boys to fight over the rest. He was caught off guard as their host turned to him and winked. As the boys hand rested on Rayne’s shoulder he couldn’t help but blush slightly. And his comment was especially… distracting. Luckily for Rayne, the blush on Dai’s face made the situation much more amusing and he couldn’t help but giggle a little. He put his hand on top of the boys and leaned in closer.
“Feel free to bunk with me” He whispered in a rather suggestive tone. He had already learnt one thing about Dia that would make the stay all the more fun. He is very easily embarrassed. Making people feel embarrassed was one of Rayne’s favourite pass times. He gave him a cheeky smile before leaning back and letting out a loud yawn, stretching his arms out. He watched as people interacted around the house, excited that people were already making friends. It was then that he felt his stomach grumble.
“Anyhow, food does sound like a good idea” He said as he glanced over to Raven with a smile. “Wouldn’t you agree?” | Name: Rayne Maxwell
Age: 18
Height: 5’7
Weight: 115ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Orientation: A bit of this and a bit of that. (Bisexual)
HandedNess (dominance): Right
Appearance (description &/or image): Rayne is a fairly skinny guy with long arms and legs. Favourite clothes include jeans and long sleeved shirts when it’s cold, and a normal shirt and still jeans when it’s hot.
General Personality (description): In a word, eccentric would be the most fitting for Rayne. He is fun loving and very active, always running around and playing. He is always smiling, doing his best to lighten the mood, even if he is sad or depressed. When asked as a kid ‘What is the one thing you want the most?’ His answer was ‘I want everyone in the world to smile’. This is the motto he lives by every day, doing his best to be happy with his friends. (Side note, he is rather flirtatious with almost everyone he meets) |
48,800 | 1,313 | 34 | 2,686 | 365 | Raven smiled at Ellie after she gave her a hug. She entered after Ellie moved a few spaces back to give her space and that's when she saw just how many people there were.
“Nice to meet you Raven!” He said in a happy tone after being introduced by Dai. “My name is Rayne and I look forward to becoming your friend” He said with a grin.
Raven turned to face the cheerful guy who introduced himself as Rayne. She nodded her head slightly and responded with a small smile,
"It's nice to meet you."
She looked over at the rest of the visitors and laying down on one of the couches, was a guy who smiled at her. She returned it with one of her own and amusingly watched him roll off the couch. Her attention was back to Dai when she realized he was talking to her.
"You, Eleanor and Faith can share my room if you'd like. I'll find-" he turned toward Rayne and winked sarcastically as he placed a light hand on their shoulder for the moment; "somewhere to sleep."
Raven was a bit taken a back, surprised that Dai wasn't so shy anymore.
“Feel free to bunk with me” He whispered in a rather suggestive tone.
She couldn't help but be amused at this little exchange of flirtation and she let out a small laugh at Dai's red face. Knowing how easily he gets embarrassed, she couldn't help but enjoy the situation.
“Anyhow, food does sound like a good idea” He said as he glanced over to Raven with a smile. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Raven's full attention was now on Rayne. The mention of food made her stomach grumble and her mouth water. Her body felt so weak at the hunger she was feeling. "Yes, please." she responded in what sounded like a whisper.
She turned to face Dai for permission. He was, afterall, the owner of the Cabin. "Can we have dinner, please?" She asked in a gentle manner. | Age: 17
Height: 5'5
Weight: 105lbs
Gender: Female
Orientation: Heterosexual
Handedness: Right hand is dominant but she is able to write with her left hand slowly
Appearance: Long black hair, hazel brown eyes, petite
General Personality:
-Might seem mean and closed off at first but starts to open up and become more friendly after getting to know her
-Blunt and can be harsh with words.
-Cares deep inside.
-Neat freak. Makes sure every corner of the house is clean and spotless.
-Mischievous with a wicked sense of humor |
48,801 | 1,313 | 35 | 275 | 114 | A bit distracted by Rayne, whom had managed to turn the situation back into their favor (and embarrass him further in the process), Dai almost didn't answer when the question was posed. He almost shrugged in response, and then realized his place as the 'host'; "Oh uh, of course." He mumbled, knowing that it was later than it felt, and very shortly, if it hadn't already, the suns light would fade leaving only a blanket of stars in the sky.
"You know how to cook?" He smirked, nudging Rayne, with whom he was becoming more comfortable, given he was better prepared after his first few experiences with their humor. Letting go, he walked through the living room and around a long bar-counter, passing P-J and Richard with a small nod of acknowledgment. "One... two... three..." he began, counting faces for the first time since they'd all arrived. "Ten...." he mused, sudden fit of nervousness returning causing his face to become pale. "I-" he added reluctantly; "I think I'm just going to call someone." With that, he picked up the wireless phone resting on the inner counter where it rested against the wall, and dialed a short, four digit number before putting the phone to his ear; "Laura. Ten. People. Food, Help. please." there were short pauses between each statement and whomever was on the other end of the line seemed to know him well enough to keep the conversation going. | Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe
Age: 19
Height: 5'11
Weight: 120ibs
Sex: Male
Gender: Cis Male
Orientation: Homosexual
Handedness: Right
Appearance:
He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes.
General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal. |
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