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56,102	1,536	68	1,524	552	JOHN "JINGO" STRANGEFIRING RANGE, NEW ANCHORAGE A grey eye looked down the iron sights wide with concentration, 400 yards away the corners of a paper target fluttered in the breeze, tacked to a sheet of steel. Jingo held his breath and so did the small congregation of people around him; switching the rifle from safety to live he squeezed the trigger and fired. A short burst of lead, three or four bullets, whizzed down the range accompanied by the flashes of the rifle's muzzle - on the other side the resounding of metal striking metal, Jingo let himself breath and the people cheered, a grin flashed across his face. "Now dunt waste yer brets just ye', still go' a whole mag let'." Gwenda leaned down by his head and squinted, trying to get a look at the distant target. "'Ow does i' look?." he asked, turing his head to look at the very close Gwenda. She snorted and rose back from her stoop. "I couldn't tell you if I wanted too," Gwenda mumbled, she fumbled for her binoculars and looked down range. She nodded slowly, whistling in admiration, "Keep shooting." Jingo wasn't sure whether she was messing with him or was being sincere, he spared a glance at Gwenda and set his jaw. He peered back down the sight, opening his eye as wide as possible and pulled on the trigger. Jingo struggled against the recoil, if he still had two hands it would be much easier to control the ravenous snaps of the rifle but with just a hook, subduing the rattle was much more difficult. The gun clicked on empty, the hammer striking an empty chamber. Jingo let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding, and was at the same time astonished at how long he held it for. Looking up from his prone position he met Gwenda's gaze, she looked back at him for a moment before jerking her head to the distant target. John nodded, getting up from the shooter's position and patting himself down before climbing over the barricade and into the snowy outside. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and trudged through the snow beside Gwenda, both silently huffing and panting as they approached the 400 yard mark. At this point Jingo was freezing, he had neglected to bring a jacket and simply walked out in his thermals; in his NC that would have been no issue but outside with the random gusts of bitter cold, he was regretting it. The pair stood side by side infant of the steel plate, Gwenda shocked and Jingo pleasantly surprised. "Blimey." "Blimey indeed.." The center of the target was practically gone, a tattered, shredded circle where paper once was but was now completely gone. The metal plate Behind the hole was a mess of of dimples and punctures, accumulating at a jagged hole in the middle. Gwenda turned her head to look at Jingo, "Are you sure that rifle of yours is an assault rifle? Jingo merely shrugged and she nodded before mumbling, "Don't want to be on the other side of you, that's for sure."	Elizabeth Jackspar Age 21 Role Melee Skirmisher Appearance A life dedicated to training has left Eli with a lean, athletic form. An albino, her skin is chalk-white, her long hair a similar color, and her eyes holding a glassy-blue hue. She has a hard gaze and straight posture, like a soldier constantly at attention. Despite this, she’s prone to wearing civilian clothes when things are quiet. Scarves strike her fancy, and she’ll often wear them high on her neck over her mouth, but she’s also prone to gloves and arm warmers. Personality Cold and dismissive to anyone that isn’t her superior, compliant and dutiful to all others with an underlying layer of competitiveness beneath everything. A quick, calculating mind and fast reflexes make Eli a good soldier, but little else unfortunately. In her early teenage years, Eli began suffering from severe and sudden panic attacks, often leaving her an unresponsive wreck. Not knowing how such incidents would affect her daughter's future, her mother went to great lengths to keep the affliction a secret from future potential employers. After a handful of years the attacks decreased in both frequency and intensity without professional assistance, which made concealing them much easier. Tactical Preference/Skills Eli excels in melee combat, preferring swords to firearms and speed to durability. While her specialty is quick execution, she can handle prolonged confrontations, especially against a single opponent. Background ”Eli” Eli was eight years old when she learned her name was short for “Elizabeth”. Her mother, the librarian recluse Celina Jackspar, had used it once, the first time she’d cried during her training. ”Get up, Elizabeth. Now. And never cry in front of me again.” And she never did. The Jackspars might have been lepers for how little they interacted with the world. Confined to a modestly sized library nestled in the corner of what was then “Smith’s Rest”, few ever visited, and fewer were actually aware the spindly, aged woman had a child. With little to their name aside from cases and piles of books, it would not have been unreasonable to assume the family would contribute nothing great to the world. Celina would not allow such an outcome. The training began early, and never slackened. Eli learned from a young age what she was, and would be. She did not attend school, she did not socialize with peers, she rarely left the library at all. Her life was dedication, she had to let go of the urges to want, and focus entirely on the future. ”Up.” And she got up. The Jackspars could afford no firearms, and so forewent practicing them. Instead it was decided that Eli would master the art of melee combat in their absence. Lyosha Voloshyna, a carpenter and one of the family’s only “friends”, happily supplied them with wooden models of various swords, ranging from the typical and familiar, to the foreign and unique. Eli was made to train with them day in and day out. They would not be weapons held, they would be extensions of her own body, or she would fall short. Countless other prospective pilots had the advantage of proper training, they could afford to be merely “adequate” so long as they rounded out a checklist and passed the neural exam. ”I don’t want you on-par, I want you better. Keep going.” And she would. Hour after hour Eli practiced, submitting herself to the forms and tests of balance. By the time she was in her middle teens, picking up a sword felt like raising her hand, swinging felt like punching. Her threshold for pain was pushed further each day, and every time she kept her mouth shut, kept her face calm, she would catch the ghost of a smirk flicker over her mother’s face. Moving had become a dance, and she was the prima. When she was fifteen, a practice sword broke in her hand, splintering midway down the blade. It was old, nothing unexpected, and the shattering caused her no physical harm. All the same Eli froze, wide eyes fixated on the broken blade, and her arm, then the girl collapsed in a fit of agony. Celina watched, shocked. ”Get up.” But she didn’t. ”Elizabeth, get. Up.” But she couldn’t. It took all of her strength not to cry. It was her first major incident, and the only one Celina ever saw. It took a few years to realize they weren’t going to stop, and seeking professional psychiatric help would murder Eli’s chances at becoming a pilot, so Celina resolved to handle the situation in her own way. Eli knew Eli. Celina knew Elizabeth. ”Stop shaking.” And she would. The final years leading up to application were smooth by Celina’s standards. Her daughter was sharp, fast, resilient, and above all, obedient. She would protect Smith’s Rest, she would protect its people, and she would do so under the instruction of whosoever commanded the forces. Second to her, of course. ”Don’t disappoint me.” And she wouldn’t. -Helped defeat Knight and Rook alongside Percy Moore, Madison Cole, John Strange, and Joe Verona -Took on her younger sister, Vera, as an “assistant” -Bonded with the previous commander, Sophia -Suffered a gruesome defeat at the first assault on Smith’s Rest -Shaken by Sophia’s desertion Text Color: color=6ecff6 Example. Blur :Body-Plan: Blur is a humanoid, bipedal NC, designed to move and strike quickly. Its armor is lacking, but a myriad of thrusters allow not only for fast evasive maneuvers, but also for gap-closing on enemies. :Type/Quality: Blur is designed to be an up-close-and-personal NC, meant to close in on key targets before engaging in a melee assault. In this, Blur excels, and should the enemy be unequipped for close-range combat, they may have trouble. However range is her crux, and while Blur is good at evading enemy fire, should one corner her from far enough away, there is little she can do to get out of the situation. Though Eli would never admit it, Blur works best with, and sometimes even requires a team. :Equipment: -Sets of thrusters allowing for enhanced mobility and sustained flight. -Flare caches for more difficult evasive maneuvers. -Targeting system designed to track a single enemy and suggest/allocate NC power to close the distance in the quickest/most effective manner. Suggestions are automatic, control/execution is manual. :Armaments: -Standard-Issue NC Beam Sword -PPB-2.71 “Plasma Sword” (Purchased) -Deployable “Finger-Claws” (New-Anchorage Custom) -Set of demolition charges sized for NC's. The charges are kept as two separate components that are combined individually in their storage to become armed as needed, so as to avoid detonation from trauma to the housing NC. --- Vera Voloshyna (Left, Ana Moore. Right, Vera Voloshyna) Age 13 Appearance Vera’s short, her blonde hair equally so, and her eyes are vibrant, lively green. She’s taken to dressing like Eli in some cases, with scarves and hoodies and the like, and generally has smudges of dirt or oil on her face. One of her front teeth bears a chip to it. Personality Vera is both easily excitable and hard to bring down. The girl almost always has a smile on her face whether something fun is happening or not, and tends to be more on the gullible side. Background Vera’s parents were at Smith’s Rest long before she was born. Her mother was a doctor, and as Vera understands it she helped Ms. Jackspar deliver her daughter not long after their arrival, and it wasn’t until more than a decade later that she herself was born. Their families grew close, and Ms. Jackspar took on a completely different, warmer persona around the Voloshynas. When Vera was two, she spent much of her time being babysat by them, when she was five, she had managed to befriend Ms. Jackspar’s daughter, Elizabeth. When she was six, her parents vanished. The family had received threats multiple times over the course of their stay from residents none too fond of the Russian Volkov Security. The Voloshyna’s tried in vain to explain they held no part in the company’s actions, but when at last the threats turned to violence, they had no choice. The letters never addressed their daughter, perhaps because she spent so much time with the Jackspars it was assumed she was just another one of them. Regardless, when Vera’s parents fled they took the opportunity to leave her in the care of their friend, who agreed without complaint or protest. The girl did the rest of her growing up around Elizabeth, and the two grew incredibly close. She did not receive the same harsh training as Elizabeth but Ms. Jackspar did teach her a few tricks to keeping well in the settlement. -Due to an increasingly dangerous home environment, Celina sent her to "assist" Eli on-base. -Survived the assault on Smith's Rest Text Color: color=662d91 Example.
56,103	1,536	69	923	5,303	STEINTRAINING FACILITY, NEW ANCHORAGE EVENING For the last few hours, Stein had done her best to do something productive instead of commit to a longer involvement with Percy Moore considering she was more than familiar with how it was obviously going to waste not only her time but also Agatha’s— the discussion following a specific briefing with their previous commander still oddly fresh in her mind. However, there was nothing she could really do to change how Percy Moore thought or acted; at least, unless something changed to the point where Stein felt she had to. The only thing Stein considered that she “had” to do at this point in time was to give Agatha an idea of what New Anchorage’s facilities were like and show her what she had requested: the ropes. Admittedly to Stein, the ropes consisted simply of knowing where the pilot barracks, main NC hangars, shooting range, obstacle course, simulation hub, fitness center, and training rooms were and little much else. She had pointed to Agatha’s datatool if she got lost and needed to know where certain rooms were had she lacked the cognitive memory functions to sufficiently remember them. Though unlike other pilot’s Stein did not suggest it in a condescending fashion as a sort of jab at her fellow pilot, but rather a sort of obtuse matter-of-fact statement that only someone like Stein could essentially get away with saying. In addition to making Agatha aware of the facilities, their locations, and their functions the blonde-haired pilot returned to a statement she mentioned when she walked away from the conversation with Percy— Of course. I'm due for another run, anyway. Whether Agatha continued to follow her had been irrelevant as far as Stein believed due to the fact that it wouldn’t affect her intended activities that she had planned to space out in-between 1300 and 1800 hours. There would be little time for idle chat. Pressuring herself into the same regimen of timed obstacle course runs that she had done prior to lunch, Stein would continuously make sure that she would make sure she would make good use of the last day free from New Anchorage’s loose operation though she was not entirely convinced that Graham would make them run through corporate schedules after the sun set either. It was a doubt, but Stein felt it was more of a fear factor to pressure pilots into stop slacking around base— though there was also the idea that her doubt could’ve been quite incorrect… but there was no way to know in advance. As time drew closer, Stein did as she did earlier— a quick shower before heading off to the Mess Hall before contemplation of what activities she should do afterward up until she set herself for a four-to-six our sequence of much needed bed rest. With so many pilots, concerns, and situations she considered going to the hangar to check on her NC, returning to the NC that Graham had designated for them to climb, or even going to the simulation hub for a simulated encounter to maintain that her skills were still sharp. There was a multitude of things that were optionable. Perhaps people like Percy saw it as robotic or soulless but Stein rejected the idea with the belief of efficiency being better than complacency. It was how she was raised. The blonde-haired girl had been the first pilot to make it to the Mess, though considering everybody’s state of mind it wasn’t so odd in retrospect. Stein didn’t quite understand how people could get so thrown off-kilter by simple requests from their commander, but therein was an issue that even she was slightly aware of— how she grew up and how she lived was different than even the person closest like her at New Anchorage in Elizabeth Jackspar. The lives of the majority of pilots she called and would call comrades were alien to her, almost like they were from Mars. Part of her wanted to relate to them or at least be able to understand them like she did her former comrades. She struggled thinking that she would connect to the people of New Anchorage quite like she did back in Seattle. Stein sighed heavily as she sat down at the table with her food tray in hand. Why is the world so different beyond what I know? It was then that a voice from behind broke her away from her thoughts, her nerves tightening as she heard it. “Anastasia?” Her blue eyes turned to face the person who had spoken to her— someone she was… familiar with. Someone she thought had disappeared from her life following his success. Stein commented blankly as she looked at the suit-bearing man who held his own tray in hand. “Father.” Ingram Kalfox. Stein would’ve been lying to herself had she believed herself to not be surprised by this… development. The last time she had seen her father for an increment of time longer than an hour was when she was twelve and was well into her promising military career and yet here we was in New Anchorage. Did whatever that caused her early retirement from the Volkov Corporation cause a similar fate for her father? And if so, why did he decide to come to New Anchorage instead of jump ship to another major corporation? What was his intent here? Why was he here? “It’s been a few years… hasn’t it Anastasia?” She felt the pressure around her get heavier. “Stein. Call me Stein.” Why was he here?	NPC DOSSIERS \| NEW ANCHORAGE NPCs \| Commander Michael Graham Commanding Officer & Operations Director “I don’t believe in children’s fantasies of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, I believe in the absolute principle of order— a concept that promotes excellence, professionalism, integrity, organization, and heart. Order doesn’t allow fantasy, order allows you to be happy with your reality.” Name Michael A. Graham Appearance Commander Graham is a man that looks a decade younger than he appears, which is a bit of an oddity in his profession. Standing at six foot even and a rigorously sculpted physique Graham has proven that age is not a factor in the efforts of a professional soldier. Accompanied by dark blue-black hair that is drawn to mid-length and faded brown eyes, Graham despite the intensity he invokes is not abrasive to look at which in the past he had used to his advantage to get the wits on several enemies including rough-edged females of the criminal element. Graham has few preferences for attire— a uniform when it is available, or a loose synthweave jacket and military-fitted clothing for alternative “casual” situations. Age Forty-Three Role Operations Director Personality Claiming to have no place for childish fantasies of morality, Michael Graham serves to believe strictly in the concept of order as in his eyes it is the only answer to life. As a military commander Graham has been called ruthless, strict, abrasive, absolutist, and demanding— all of which are, in part, true to his character. Caring not for how people see him, Graham prescribes to a militarized belief of organization, rigorous expectation, and self-fulfillment through commitment. However, he is not so simply defined as a military drone given he has explored the world with a bit of a wanderlust that harkens back to his days as an aggressive and unruly NC pilot youth. Graham’s nuances and depth will be truly hard to uncover, though, as it seems as he isn’t privy to sharing. Backstory Michael Aldous Graham was born in the mega-city known as Las Vegas in 2634 within the jurisdiction of the Denver-Vegas Corporation. As an orphaned child, Graham ████████████████████████████ and was enlisted at age of seven years old and was administered to a military camp for training children. This allowed a form of ███████ to recruits to groom them into the ideal soldier. During a mandatory study of a psychological exam it was discovered that Graham was born with the ability to pilot NC’s. He was then sent off to a NC-specialized variant of the camp to which he met many like-minded children of his age and bonded with many of them. Throughout his time at the camp he was discovered to be one of the top three recruits of 2642. The others being ███████ and ███████. The three would become known as Denver-Vegas’ “Blood Trinity” as they became a force of reckoning. Starting in 2647 at The Skirmish of Andreas Fault. Sent in to deal with Red-Star insurgents that had began to encroach on Denver-Vegas territory beyond their corporate holdings in California, Graham and his comrades were said to “single-handedly” win the skirmish, though records are incomplete as sensor array camera footage has been buried in Denver-Vegas archives. As the dispute between Red-Star and Denver-Vegas continued Graham and his comrades gained prestige as the battles got more destructive and chaotic. By the end of the war the trinity had earned a reputation that would cement itself in legend— a status that would be tested when Graham found himself in a one-on-one skirmish with veteran independent pilot Agatha Smith. Following the Andreas Dispute War, Graham was thrown back into the thick of it not long after when Denver-Vegas declared war on the Volkov Corporation who had “unfairly” acquired Elysian Dream. Seven long years poured into the war and at the end of it the death of ███████ by the hands of a Volkov pilot by the name of ███████. Unsurprisingly, the death was earth-shaking for both Graham and ███████, who began to see that they weren’t as invulnerable as they were led to believe. Following the death of one trinity member Denver-Vegas found their battles going downhill against Volkov’s tactical advances and eventually they sued for peace. Elysian Dream remained in Volkov hands. In the time since the Elysian War, Graham found himself earning several promotions such as first officer, field captain, squadron commander, and operations commander. However, for reasons unknown Graham resigned from Denver-Vegas in 2673, opting to work independently. His record suggests operations collaborating with Fairbanks, Paragon, and smaller independents— never sticking around for long. New Anchorage hopes he will stay on permanently. Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran Military Commander Experienced NC Pilot Adept with Tactical Analysis Expert Marksman CQC Expertise Notes Graham absolutely detests nicknames— he will reprimand those who do not refer to him as commander, sir, or his surname. There has few people who he has tolerated nicknames from in his past and they are no longer part of his life. Graham has two adult children he knows about, aged 21 and 18. He has employed both of them. Dr. Herbert Bonheur Head of Medicine “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. Forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad.” Name Herbert H. Bonheur Appearance TBA Age Forty-Six Role Head of Medicine Personality Bonheur is admittedly rather obtuse given that his way of thinking isn’t exactly easy to understand by others; even fellow doctors. Coupled with a loose, casual demeanor and mannerisms that lead many to believe that the years of caffeine-induced dieting has led him to speak similar that may be a bit too quick for people to generally follow. Some consider Bonheur “insane” whilst others consider him “eccentric” but despite his terrible bedside manner and his abrasively blunt way of dealing with things Bonheur’s methods seems to always work. Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Best Medicial Pracitioner in Alaska Skilled Pharmacist Veteran Surgeon Notes TBA Dr. James Lofgren Head of NC Analysis “With only one minute to spare and you took down an opponent who seemed to have all of the advantages. Fascinating.” Name James M. Lofgren Appearance TBA Age Thirty-One Role NC Analyst Neurosurgeon Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Well-tested NC Analyst Skilled Neurosurgeon Skilled Psychologist & Therapist Notes TBA Valdislav Kuznetsov Head of Engineering “Quote” Name Valdislav S. Kuznetsov Appearance TBA Age Fifty-Five Role Senior Engineering Officer Mechanic Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Notes TBA Matthew Alvarez Operations Administrator “Your complaints are unfounded, I assure you that everything is going according to plan. Sit down.” Name Matthew L. Alvarez Appearance TBA Age Twenty-Six Role Operations Administrator Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Eidetic Memory Veteran Administrative Assistant Skilled Clerk Notes TBA Katarina Poux Engineering Officer “I just wish there was a way these beautiful machines could be used for good and not evil. There is such opportunity for them to be utilized for good.” Name Katarina “Kat” Poux Appearance Katarina is easy on the eyes when she is cleaned up, but due to her constant tweaking of machinery she tends to have a oil and dust-spotted appearance. Her hair is black that is worn long or in a messy ponytail depending on her time management and awareness. Her eyes are a perceptive hazel and her choices of attire are generally engineering jumpsuits and uniforms; rarely does Katarina remember what it was like to wear loose ‘feminine’ type clothing. Katarina is about average height for her ethnicity and age, setting in at around 5’6”. Age Twenty-Five Role Junior Engineering Officer Personality Katarina is upbeat and chirpy despite her “muddy” profession, choosing to be welcoming and optimistic rather than cynical and realistic. Whilst some might consider her an annoyance, her energy and emotions do set a mood amongst the engineering staff that leads to a good morale boost. However, with the shadow of death this disposition can be damaged and inverted; thus revealing a sort of “hot” and “cold” dynamic to her personality. However, Katarina tries very hard to not be downbeat and thinks things forward and not backward; she had done such dwelling on negative emotions when she was younger after all. Backstory The daughter of a NC pilot and a weapons engineer, Kat has been surrounded by big machines with complex machinery her entire life. A background that would bring the young girl to study all things mechanical and electrical which led to an astute understanding of mechs and traditional armored vehicles alike. Around the age of thirteen years old the world revealed itself to be much more harsh than she had been led to believe despite her parents professions being blatantly a product of their warlike environment. This tragedy was the death of her mother, Piana, when her independent NC was overwhelmed in combat. The effects of said death would bring her father to alcoholism and retirement from working on new NC weapon schematics and prototypes. Kat would go on following in the footsteps of who her father was before the accident and became an exceptional mechanic and designer in her own right., though she couldn’t seem to escape stigmas about her or her family wherever she went. By the age of twenty, following her instruction as an engineer she found herself in the employ of one of the big corporations: Fairbanks. Several months ago she quit her position as an aspiring engineer at Fairbanks due to various reasons and found herself in league with New Anchorage. Tactical Preference & Skills Skilled NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Weapons Designer Notes TBA Ingram Kalfox Financial & Intelligence Agent “It is so nice to see the youth looking optimistically towards their future— and the more ruthless of us trying to redeem their path in life. It brings hope for our time.” Name Ingram Kalfox Appearance TBA Age 43-56 Role Operations Economist Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Comprehensive Knowledge of International NC Pilots Skilled Businessman & Economist Notes TBA Rebecca Marek Operations Commander “---” Name Rebecca “Reb” Marek Appearance TBA Age 28-36 Role Military Commander Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Experienced Soldier & Military Commander Veteran Anti-NC Special Operations Unit Talented in Tactical Analysis Skilled in CQC Marksman Notes TBA
56,104	1,536	70	1,409	1,959	Agatha SmithMess Hall, New Anchorage Agatha had been amazed by the sheer determination that Stein had demonstrated. She was fairly certain that the Ace hadn't even noticed her presence as they both ran the obstacle course. Considering there was a substantial margin in their performance- 4:23 being her best time on the unfamiliar course- and in endurance, as Agatha was forced to concede before the superior endurance of her running mate about twennty minutes before she had. Not being one to waste time she had made use of her cooling off period to read up on the dossiers of her fellow pilots and a bit on the support staff. She lightly snickered to herself as she perused through her datatool. I wonder what the others will think of my dossier. Having killed several hours being given a guided tour of the facilities and watching Stein run circles around her, it was time for the new pilots first meal at New Anchorage. Luckily she had hit up the dining car on the train for lunch, since they hadn't had a chance to actually utilize the mess when they first arrived. Standing with tray in hand, having taken whatever was on offer for dinner, she moved to sit across the only other person there at the time, Ms. Kalfox. The younger woman had been silent for a while now, almost completely since they had finished the tour barring a sparse muttering under her breath, but Agatha didn't take offense from it. Her initial assumption of Stein seemed to have been validated by her dossier and their interactions with Moore, her actions and words more motivated by her own rationality rather than callousness. The silence wasn't yet at the stage of being called companionable, but she was willing to accept that Stein wouldn't be breaking it without good cause. Agatha would have left it as well, but the silence had seemed to have been shattered by another who brought with him a surprising revelation about Stein's parentage. "Huh, so you are Stein's father." Agatha asked the empty air. She hadn't put any thought towards the progenitor of New Anchorage's Ace, there just wasn't the time or immediate reasons to do as such. There was a vague familial resemblence, though her own daughters looked very little like their father so physical traits weren't the ultimate indicator of parentage. However, given the person that Stein has become she did question his parenting ability. After her encounter with Percy Moore, Agatha wasn't going to vocalize those concerns. In regards to Stein a dossier only covered so much, and Agatha hadn't a name to match to the face of Stein's father so she didn't know anything on him. There was a sense of validation in berating Percy for his cowardise, especially since they will going into combat together, but this man wasn't dressed or carrying himself like a pilot. The standards were different, and unlike Ana, Stein was already a grown woman and accomplished pilot so nothing would come of antagonizing him based off first impressions. Another pilot, one of the original New Anchorage pilots, sat down with them and bluntly asked the question on both their minds. "Well, this man here seems to be Stein's father." “Seems is oddly speculative isn’t it? I can assure you I most certainly am responsible for Stein’s existence in our world.” "Ah, well then I suppose we owe you our thanks for your contribution." Agatha offered amicably. His tone was surprisingly welcoming, so she endeavored to match it. "So do you mind if I ask what you do here in New Anchorage, Mr. Kalfox? I don't take you for a pilot, so maybe vice-commander?" “I have taken the offered position in charge of financial administration. Basically I deal with numbers and making sure that New Anchorage does not go broke. There was some other capacities I was requested to contribute towards but I’m afraid that information is confidential.” "Of course. Operational security is important, after all." Agatha replied with a bemused smile. He seemed like an interesting man who was in a position of signifigant power in New Anchorage, though she was still curious how someone who was so congenial could produce such a stringent child. Then again, kids don't have to emulate their parents. Individual perogative is a thing, or someone else had a greater influence on her development. "Well if you are half as capable as your daughter, New Anchorage can rest assured it's finances are in good hands. Though please, don't let us interrupt your time with your daughter anymore." “Oh, no. That is the pilots table.” He chuckled as he waved his hand, “Really, I have taken enough of your time. Enjoy your food, I have to talk with those I will be working closely with. I will talk to you later, Stein. Cheers.” What a peculiar man. Agatha thought before returning to spooning up what she thought was a serving of mashed potatoes. She wondered what Stein thought of the man, but that was for another time. Answers came with time, and they still had a month till Graham was going to incite his final test which decided who was piloting and who wasn't. Agatha knew she was ready.	AGATHA SMITH Appearance: Standing at 5’6”, Agatha has sharp features and a smile that could cut an NC to ribbons. Hair once flaxen has long since gone gray, which is pulled into a loose bun. Deep set green eyes and a pointed nose. Some people have told her she has the face of a 1st grade Math teacher who takes joy in assigning homework over the weekend. While not a weight lifter, she has a solid frame from years of hard work on the surface. Tends to wear a faded burgundy vest over an oil stained grey jumpsuit. Age: 58 Role: Scout Sniper Personality: Agatha is a restless woman who finds there is no worse fate than finding yourself without purpose. Give’s 110% percent to everything she does, and is a strong proponent of clean living, or as clean as one can get outside the burrows. Carries herself with a wizened air of experience that comes with age, not book smarts. Could be described as desperate in search for a cause, desperate enough to come to Anchorage. Doesn't acknowledge her own bitterness with having settled down and giving up on piloting. Feels like she lost out on something important, but can't besmirch her husbands memory or their daughters to disregard their lives together as unimportant. Biography: Born and raised on the surface, Agatha always knew she was a special snowflake. At the bizarrely typical age of 14, she was found compatible to pilot an NC. Like so many before her she was drawn into piloting a bipedal weapon of mass destruction and had many mercantile adventures as an independent NC operator that aren’t worth recollection. The kinds of adventures that blur together but can often be summed up as, ‘Go to exotic locations, meet interesting people, and kill them’. Throughout her ventures she had a loyal mechanic who would have followed her to hell and back by the name of Albert Smith. He wasn’t particularly handsome or clever, but he was loyal, sweet, and won over her affections through his perseverance. At 27 Agatha was married, by 28 she had a daughter and another on the way. Finding their means of employment too dangerous to foster a family, they decided it was prudent for Agatha to set aside the adventuring for a more sedentary lifestyle. Investing their considerable saving towards setting up shop in a scrapyard, Agatha began a new life as a mother and family woman. For years, that was good enough. All the effort she had put forth piloting her NC was directed towards running the scrapyard and raising her kids. There wasn’t the same rush that came with piloting a multi-ton automaton, but she was satisfied for a time. Then the children grew up, and left the nest to find out their own destinies. To be the special snowflakes that have fantastical opportunities all lined up for the taking if they only go out and claim them. Her husband of 29 years had grown ill and passed peacefully in his sleep. That left Agatha, with a job she didn’t care for and no one relying upon her. Most would have considered this time to retire, settle down and indulge herself before the inevitable end, but she couldn’t. Even with the best years of her life in the past, she knew she had more to give. Firing up the old NC, which had been used as a makeshift crane for the scrapyard, she went out to recapture her lost glory, but found there wasn’t any demand for someone so long out of the game. The only ones as desperate as she was where the good folks down at New Anchorage, and they just so happened to be looking for any pilot that would come their way. Tactical Preference: Specializes in the collection and dissemination of tactical information with the armaments to capitalize on this knowledge with unparalleled veracity from long range. Relies upon heavy thrusters to facilitate rapid repositioning to out maneuver and evade enemy forces. Word Color: Teal 008080 NC Codename: Charon Body Type: Moderately armored bipedal NC specialized towards ease of movement and relocation. Meant to be a Sniper who repositions with each shot and endeavors to flank an enemy rather than engage from extreme long range at a stationary position. The armor isn't enough for front line combat, but is sufficient to keep Charon active while exposed during relocation. Equipment: -Powerful, back mounted thruster pack for explosive bursts of propulsion meant for either rapid ascent on a vertical plane or dashing forward to cover long distance in a short time. -Advanced Targeting suite to magnify targets up to 60x and offer thermal and night vision capabilities at range. Will paint targets viewed through optics with a marker that will be relayed to friendly units. Armaments: - PXS-8.0 'Opticor' Super heavy Maser rifle. - leg mounted dumb fire rocket pods. 2 pods per leg, 12 rockets each. - Shoulder mounted smoke grenade launcher.
56,105	1,536	71	1,318	425	Jan went wandering in the base after the fracas in the hangar. He had been confronted with something that irked him. A helpful tech had kept track of his time climbing the NC. "Nine minutes... that could do better." He knew he could. It wasn't like his recent diet of bacon sandwiches with extra mayonnaisse had anything to do with it. A military man like him needed a lot of calories after all. Still though, there was a niggling voice in the back of his head trying to tell him perhaps putting bacon in every meal he could was overdoing it. He would have to shift to something else... maybe something with pasta... perhaps lasagna? Yeah, that sounded good. Lost in his thoughts about the prospect of a diet, Jan hadn’t realized that he had ran flat into someone who had been walking in the same corridor, white labcoat fluttering upon the impact— the sound of a feminine ‘oomph’ being apparent as the contents of the small box the individual was carrying emptied onto the floor. “Are you serious? Do you just not like looking where you are walking or is this a New Anchorage thing?!” The woman complained with a huff as she immediately ignored Jan and kneeled down to pick up the contents of assorted belongings that had been contained inside. Jan almost did his usual reaction of shrugging his shoulders and moving on. Then however, he realized who he had ran into... it was someone he would rather stay in the good graces of. "Eh... sorry doc, Wasn't paying attention. You need any help with that or...?" Jan's usual tough guy demeanour shifted towards a more pliable submissive posture. He wasn't one to get on the bad side of people that might be poking around in his insides one day... and he definitely didn't want to piss someone off that shared a last name with his boss. “Well you could stop talking and start helping— or you know, continue looking like an idiot. Your call.” The female medical officer shot out as she grabbed one of her assortments of things and placed it back in her box. Jan crouched down and started putting things in the box one by one. "So... when did you get here? I haven't seen you around much before now." He tried to change the subject around. This wouldn't be the first time he met someone by accidentally running into them. Though he had to admit, he usually didn't stay behind to help someone pick themselves up. “Today. The job offer was not limited to NC pilots.” She replied, bluntly. "Sheesh, a good sense of humour wasn't listed on the job requirements it seems." Jan concentrated and quickly piled all the remaining things into the box. "There, if something's broken, get a replacement and send me the bill “You want to hear jokes, huh? How about this old Alaskan one I picked up a while ago about an idiot and a doctor? It’s a riot.” The tone was dry with snark to spare as she nodded to the second part of his comment as she stood up with the box's lid secure. “So, Joker. Care to be useful and help me find the barracks?” "Eh, sure, I was just on my way to the training facility. The barracks is on the way there from here... I have a fellow pilot to one-up." He had picked up on the snark... she most definitely had a sense of humour; just a more subtle one than Jan's. Jan had arrived more on time for dinner. One demerit a day was more than enough for him. His muscles ached and his stomach grumbled for food. He had been exercising all afternoon after his unfortunate run-in with the new medical officer. He had reserved a spot on the firing range for the evening. The cathartic feeling of turning helpless dummies into swiss cheese seemed like a good end to the day. He briefly began assembling his usual mound of mashed potatoes, bacon and vegetables when he thought back on his earlier thoughts about eating differently. He took a large helping of lasagna instead. Walking over to the part of the mess where he and his fellow pilots usually dined, he saw Stein sitting at her usual table... and also some other guy... who was this other guy? Jan hadn't seen him around before, and Stein wasn't one to make small talk to strangers; much less have dinner with them. With an intrigued huff, Jan set himself down at the same table. Before he could say anything Agatha came in and asked a question Jan could have come up with himself... he really had to step up his game. This man... stein's father... his manner of speaking was indeed disconcertingly similiar to her. The man walked off before Jan could grill him for questions; instead, he turned to Stein. "Well, he seems like a lighthearted guy... must be great at parties, isn't he?" Jan simply remarked. He didn't wait for an answer, instead digging into his lasagna.	Percy J. Moore Age: 32 Role: > Support Appearance: He's a pretty average looking guy. He's about 5 ft 8in, 167 lbs. He has red hair and freckles all over his body, suggesting he's at least a little Irish. At least a little. Even though everything else about him seems warm and inviting, his eyes are a cool gray blue. Some people have told him he looks a little girly, but his stubble shows otherwise. He also has a little bit of a nose on him. Normally, he'd wear a blue jean jacket with a faux fur collar with a dark sandy brown turtleneck underneath, light jeans with dark long-johns underneath, and some worn but sturdy leather-y hiking boots (with socks, of course). He also has a set of more intimidating black steel toed boots, but he doesn't wear those very often. He also has two silver rings on his left hand. One is his wedding ring, the other is his wife's. The glasses shown in the picture are merely for reading. (I just couldn't keep the glasses-wearing Percy to myself tho like look at him) Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) He's got one or two screws a little bit loose.. He's paranoid, temperamental, overprotective and has a very hard time relaxing. Under all that he's really just scared. He's scared for his daughter and himself. He doesn't want his girl to end up like her mother - dead - or him - an emotional mess that's barely got his shit together. If you can get through the barrier to the guy underneath it, you've got yourself a friend that's gonna have your back 99% of the time. Backstory: He was living an average life that was as comfortable as it can be in a wasteland with his mother and father in Smith's Rest.. maybe even a little bit sheltered. After moving out of the house so he can have some time to really figure out who he was as a person, his parents died shortly after because of a disease that was spreading across the settlement. A few years after that, and after a few romps with some other people, he met a lovely woman that was just a year older than him - Laura. Laura was, in his eyes, very pretty, very intelligent, and very much the yin to his yang. They just clicked. They had a child out of wedlock, but they married after their little girl, Ana, was born. A few months later, as they were finally settled into parenthood and Percy thought that maybe everything's alright, Laura was killed in an accident in her workplace. Percy had to tackle parenthood alone. He did awfully at first - Laura was a much better parent than he was at that point in time - but he gradually got better. Ana grew up to be a bright eyed little girl. He took the job because he was in need of the huge sum of money promised. He thought he could just get in, get out, be over with it.. It'd be easy! He was so, so wrong - he figured that one out after the surgery to get his plug.. That's what he gets for not reading the fine print. After dealing with a surprise attack on Smith's Rest, he's gotten meaner and a little less forgiving. Then, after the events of the Navy attack, his NC was damaged to the point it locked up, was able to be toppled, and the right side of his body was mangled pretty badly - so badly in fact, on top of breaking his leg, he lost his hand. His face was luckily kept in tact. He's back into what Sophia called the unfair game with much hesitance.. he prays he doesn't lose any more body parts. Tactical Preference & Skills: > He'd rather stay away from bloodshed if he can, but if he can't, sticking close to the team would be his second choice. He has a very strong desire to protect those around him, even if they're in huge mechas, making him an adequate support. > If he was to do a solo mission and the only person he has to worry about is himself (and he's confident that he'll be fine), he would find no issues with getting his metal hands dirty. Or oily, I guess. Notes: > He hates getting drunk - not because of what it does to him, but because his hangovers are awful > He has pistol that's been passed down for generations upon generations. It's technically obsolete, but he's very good at using it. > He also has a pocket knife that was a sort of "parting gift" from Sophia (the former commander). > He has a prosthetic hand now. He both hates it and kind of totally loves it. > His sync rate is around 75-90%, depending on his mental state. Text Color: LightSteelBlue, or b0c4de Codename: Papa Mike Appearance:: Looks clunkier and heavier than it really is. Basic metallic black paint with white accents. Has a couple dings here and there, but it's not affecting anything major. Older model modified to meet standards of the present, really. Body & Type: > Bipedal > Originally designed to be semi-proficient at most tasks. Has been modified to be faster and more powerful than the original. Equipment: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > Slightly damaged stock neural computer - a bug in the computer is that it calls Percy "Micheal" instead of "Percy." Percy has tried to fix it but is afraid he'll break something else. He's not a coder for fuck's sake. > Above-average thrusters specifically designed for short bursts of speed > Slightly above average generator Armaments: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > VEKW-01.65 (New-Anchorage Custom - 35 rounds, mid-to-long-range) > PPB-2.71 (New-Anchorage Custom - melee (laser sword), standard white in color) Small Standard Fairbanks-Model missile launcher on the back (3 missile burst, long-range) random tidbits (will be added to as I think of things) > Before the NC was Percy's, it belonged to a guy named Michael who was actually an assault/support for his squad.. hence the computer calling him "Michael" :P Ana L. Moore The redhead is Ana. The ushanka girl is Vera Age: 8 Appearance: She's just past the average height of girls her age, being 4ft 2in, but she's underweight at 50 lbs. She shares many of her father's physical traits, just softened (especially her nose). She also has his red hair and freckles - her freckles are more in her face, however. Her eyes are a very lovely shade of green. She's usually wearing a pink and white striped sweater that's beaten up from being worn so often, some dark pants that are equally as beat up, and some shoes that are so worn it's probably time for new ones. She has what she would call "a dumb monkey hat with stupid looking gloves that match" that she really would prefer not to wear (she's eight, not FIVE), but her father makes her wear it sometimes when it's colder than usual. Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) Despite all that's happened, she's still very optimistic and caring. She's got a will made of titanium and she's braver than she realizes she is - even braver than her father, who she feels is the bravest person in the whole world. She's a little bit like her father in the sense that she also has a touch of a temper as well... maybe not a touch. Backstory: She was born to Laura and Percy. She never knew her mother, because she died when she was little. When the surprise attack in Smith's Rest happened, she was almost taken away for who knows what purpose. Almost. She was saved, but her perceptions of the world changed pretty drastically. She didn't know just how scary the world was till then. She's slowly learning to deal with the nightmares, but she probably won't like confined spaces very much. Notes: > She stole a box of crayons from the school once. She still has that box of crayons. > She absolutely loves dogs. Puppies are awesome. > She is very much capable of taking care of herself.. for the most part. > She's a bit clumsy - she has a very tiny, almost unnoticeable scar on her nose, between her eyes. she walked into a door frame when she was little. > Birthday is August 7th. Text Color: Violet or ee82ee
56,106	1,536	72	1,700	2,624	T A H L I A S T Y L E S Barracks / Mess Hall - New Anchorage Tahlia sat on the ground with her back against the bed, knees up against her body. She held her left hand up in the air, looking at both her wrist and the bracelets that were surrounding it. The bracelets themselves hid away part of the southern cross tattoo that extended up covering about a third of her forearm, and whilst looking at her markings she was also counting the beads on each band. Her fingers plucked each timber ball with a gentle tug and Tahlia watched them spring back to her skin when she released the pressure. They gave a slight rattle like a maraca as the wood knocked against the neighbouring bead, transferring it's energy to the following one, and the one there after. The room was silent except for the clicking of Tahlia's actions.5:58 She looked at the clock, remembering that it was mentioned somewhere that Dinner was from 6pm. Cautiously, Tahlia placed her hands on the ground and pushed herself up. Walking slowly over to the bathroom she took a look in the broken mirror, trying to glimpse her face. The eyes were red, she had dark shadows under them, and her overall expression was just giving off the aura of tired exhaustion. The tap flipped on, and her hands plunged into the warm stream of water scooping up a cupful and throwing it on her face. With a gentle pad of a towel she gave another look at herself, noting that her look of death warmed up hadn't really gone away. "Pull yourself together," she mumbled to herself knowing that it wouldn't necessarily stop the hurt, but would drive her to rebuild her composure. The sound of glass crunching under Tahlia's shoes could be heard as she left the bathroom and made her way for the main door, pulling her hoody over her head to both protect her face from the cold outside, and hide away from the world once more. Tahlia entered the mess hall, hoping no one would notice that she looked like ratshit. She could see a few of the other pilots surrounding a table with the man she saw on the train earlier acknowledging the girl known as Stein. According to Philip and Thomas, Stein was the first in a generation of Volkov Artificial Intelligence. A smart, highly skilled girl that did not compute when it came to any sort of personal emotion. Sitting with her and now talking to the older gentleman was Agatha Smith. For an older generation of pilot she was quickly making her rounds in getting comfortable with the other pilots on base, showing the younger ones that age doesn't always matter. Tahlia passed them and proceeded to the serving table, picking up a tray and making her own rounds in an effort to collect as much food as she could handle in her current, terrible state. On her plate was a few greasy bacon rashes, some baked potatoes and a couple sausages, a necessary item that would lubricate the arteries and help reduce her sickly alcoholic feeling. When Tahlia turned to reface the seating area, she noticed that it was starting to fill up with more and more people. She was tempted to sit on her own, away from the others for the evening, but she already had enough of that feeling of solitude in her own room. The Australian walked over to the table where the two girls were sitting, dropping her tray onto the hard bench like a convict in a supermax prison before plonking down both next to Stein, opposite Agatha and the new occupant, Jan. "Well, he seems like a lighthearted guy... must be great at parties, isn't he?" Tahlia caught the last of Jan's sentence as she stabbed the fork into some diced up potato and moved along to a folded up piece of bacon. She lifted up the small stack and fed it into the mouth of her hooded figure, making a small comment before taking a bite. "So who is he? He seemed to know a fair bit about 'Slave Boy' when we were on the train."	Name: Jan van Gent Appearance:Jan stands at 1.65 meters tall. He has fair skin, dark-blonde hair styled shortly and combed to the side. He has little standards concerning the clothes he wears, usually wearing whatever he managed to get on the cheap from a clothes vendor. The only criterium to him is that something needs to be functional. It doesn't need to be pretty or graceful, it just needs to work. Age: 27 Role: Flanking/ counter-CQC Personality :A rash and boorish man by nature. Jan is a spirited individual with a somewhat cruel streak to his actions. He doesn't particularly mind if other people are served by his actions, but is ultimately mostly in it for himself. Despite this though, he places great value on loyalty and mutual respect, even if it is for the slightly pragmatic reason that a long-time partner is the best partner. Backstory: A storied and grizzled independent. Jan van Gent was never part of the big five, instead operating with all sorts of factions all over the world as a mercenary contractor. He has probably fought with and against every major player on the current global stage, switching allegiances in quieter periods when hsi current employer's funds dried up, though always taking care not to antagonize anyone enough to draw the wrong sort of attention. A recent stint as a volkov subcontractor saw Jan assigned to New Anchorage. Political machinations above his control then saw volkvov retract their support, with jan's contract being terminated in the fallout. Jan simply shrugged and renegotiated a direct contract with New Anchorage's commander. Just another day on the job. Tactical Preference & Skills: Jan has great proficiency and experience at spotting and exploiting oppurtunities in a tactical situation. He has very good aim with all equipped weapons even at high speeds. He can concentrate on whatever his current target is without anything feasibly breaking his stride, though he is suspectible to a sort of tactical tunnel vision as well. Notes: Jan returns from the previous thread. Text Color: None due to player bias/laziness NC Codename: Goldenspur Appearance: The goldenspur is a grizzled mercenary machine, much like its pilot. Its frame is painted a muted black with gold details. While standing upright, its silhoutte is very visible due to its signature custom-built shoulder plates, somewhat resembling the skeletal wings of the winged hussar cavalry of old. These shoulder plates are folded over the NC's backside when in standby, but stretch to their full impressive length when shoulder weapons are deployed. Body & Type: A medium-class tank body. Original manufacturer is difficult to determine due to the amount of disparate custom parts mixed and matched to create the NC. Armor plating has been stripped and replaced with ligther variants on all sides save for the front to allow for greater manouverability. The NC has the unusual ability to fold downwards into a threaded tank-vehicle designed for speed and getaways. Equipment & Armaments: Goldenspur's main armament is a high-power plasma lance designed to punch through heavy armor and inflict catastrphic damage on internal systems. It requires a long pre-charge time and consumes most of the reactor's energy output when fired, also requiring a cooldown period afterwards. The goldenspur has two standard grade gimballed autoguns mounted on its shoulders. Energy consumption on them is low, and the caliber is sufficient to deal with most non-NC targets as well as posing a threat to NCs with lighter armor. In terms of defensive measures, the goldenspur has a standardized ECM array to deal with fire and forget missiles, a radar dampening coating on its armor, and a set of smoke launchers to disrupt visual contact. The smoke has a peculiar chemical composition that disperses lasers fired through it.
56,107	1,536	73	923	5,303	STEINMESS HALL, NEW ANCHORAGE EVENING He is my father. Stein had been in the same room with her father many times in her life, of course, but it always had this effect. The suffocation, the feeling of uneasiness, the irrationality of her emotions, and the quaking in her bones. It was not a feeling she had ever been able to logically make sense of at any point in her life. She had tried to cope with it, but her father had not been one to ask for her presence or attention back at Volkov and she was generally left to what she did best— being inside her cockpit. In her entire life… that was where she felt none of the issues with people and could just be alone. In her private quarters she didn’t feel quite as… secure. “Yes, he is.” She stated in her monotone, though her body had begun to feel tense. The conversation between Agatha, Jan, and… Ingram continued but she couldn’t really hear it. Everything had started to become hard to understand; as if she couldn’t really comprehend what they were saying— like she was incapable of hearing the words they were speaking. She saw them, of course, but nothing. As her father pushed down on her right shoulder with his hand it became hard to breathe. Her hand slightly shook as she reached for the metallic “glass” and took a drink of the cool vitamin-enriched water that was inside. I am not okay. There were questions for her— but she didn’t process them. She couldn’t process them; not right at this moment. Her blue eyes looked at her food and a heavy sigh left her before she stood up from her seat at the table. “I have to check on my NC.” Without a second word Stein left the Mess Hall— her tray of food laying where she had placed it on the table with not one single bite instilled in her food. There was only one place could regain herself right now and it was not in the Mess Hall. She needed to be inside the Little Dragon; it was the only place in Volkov where she could go— and it was the only place in New Anchorage where she could go in times like this where her body internally screamed at her that something was wrong. But what was wrong? Stein did not even understand it and that was what frustrated her the most.	NPC DOSSIERS \| NEW ANCHORAGE NPCs \| Commander Michael Graham Commanding Officer & Operations Director “I don’t believe in children’s fantasies of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, I believe in the absolute principle of order— a concept that promotes excellence, professionalism, integrity, organization, and heart. Order doesn’t allow fantasy, order allows you to be happy with your reality.” Name Michael A. Graham Appearance Commander Graham is a man that looks a decade younger than he appears, which is a bit of an oddity in his profession. Standing at six foot even and a rigorously sculpted physique Graham has proven that age is not a factor in the efforts of a professional soldier. Accompanied by dark blue-black hair that is drawn to mid-length and faded brown eyes, Graham despite the intensity he invokes is not abrasive to look at which in the past he had used to his advantage to get the wits on several enemies including rough-edged females of the criminal element. Graham has few preferences for attire— a uniform when it is available, or a loose synthweave jacket and military-fitted clothing for alternative “casual” situations. Age Forty-Three Role Operations Director Personality Claiming to have no place for childish fantasies of morality, Michael Graham serves to believe strictly in the concept of order as in his eyes it is the only answer to life. As a military commander Graham has been called ruthless, strict, abrasive, absolutist, and demanding— all of which are, in part, true to his character. Caring not for how people see him, Graham prescribes to a militarized belief of organization, rigorous expectation, and self-fulfillment through commitment. However, he is not so simply defined as a military drone given he has explored the world with a bit of a wanderlust that harkens back to his days as an aggressive and unruly NC pilot youth. Graham’s nuances and depth will be truly hard to uncover, though, as it seems as he isn’t privy to sharing. Backstory Michael Aldous Graham was born in the mega-city known as Las Vegas in 2634 within the jurisdiction of the Denver-Vegas Corporation. As an orphaned child, Graham ████████████████████████████ and was enlisted at age of seven years old and was administered to a military camp for training children. This allowed a form of ███████ to recruits to groom them into the ideal soldier. During a mandatory study of a psychological exam it was discovered that Graham was born with the ability to pilot NC’s. He was then sent off to a NC-specialized variant of the camp to which he met many like-minded children of his age and bonded with many of them. Throughout his time at the camp he was discovered to be one of the top three recruits of 2642. The others being ███████ and ███████. The three would become known as Denver-Vegas’ “Blood Trinity” as they became a force of reckoning. Starting in 2647 at The Skirmish of Andreas Fault. Sent in to deal with Red-Star insurgents that had began to encroach on Denver-Vegas territory beyond their corporate holdings in California, Graham and his comrades were said to “single-handedly” win the skirmish, though records are incomplete as sensor array camera footage has been buried in Denver-Vegas archives. As the dispute between Red-Star and Denver-Vegas continued Graham and his comrades gained prestige as the battles got more destructive and chaotic. By the end of the war the trinity had earned a reputation that would cement itself in legend— a status that would be tested when Graham found himself in a one-on-one skirmish with veteran independent pilot Agatha Smith. Following the Andreas Dispute War, Graham was thrown back into the thick of it not long after when Denver-Vegas declared war on the Volkov Corporation who had “unfairly” acquired Elysian Dream. Seven long years poured into the war and at the end of it the death of ███████ by the hands of a Volkov pilot by the name of ███████. Unsurprisingly, the death was earth-shaking for both Graham and ███████, who began to see that they weren’t as invulnerable as they were led to believe. Following the death of one trinity member Denver-Vegas found their battles going downhill against Volkov’s tactical advances and eventually they sued for peace. Elysian Dream remained in Volkov hands. In the time since the Elysian War, Graham found himself earning several promotions such as first officer, field captain, squadron commander, and operations commander. However, for reasons unknown Graham resigned from Denver-Vegas in 2673, opting to work independently. His record suggests operations collaborating with Fairbanks, Paragon, and smaller independents— never sticking around for long. New Anchorage hopes he will stay on permanently. Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran Military Commander Experienced NC Pilot Adept with Tactical Analysis Expert Marksman CQC Expertise Notes Graham absolutely detests nicknames— he will reprimand those who do not refer to him as commander, sir, or his surname. There has few people who he has tolerated nicknames from in his past and they are no longer part of his life. Graham has two adult children he knows about, aged 21 and 18. He has employed both of them. Dr. Herbert Bonheur Head of Medicine “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. Forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad.” Name Herbert H. Bonheur Appearance TBA Age Forty-Six Role Head of Medicine Personality Bonheur is admittedly rather obtuse given that his way of thinking isn’t exactly easy to understand by others; even fellow doctors. Coupled with a loose, casual demeanor and mannerisms that lead many to believe that the years of caffeine-induced dieting has led him to speak similar that may be a bit too quick for people to generally follow. Some consider Bonheur “insane” whilst others consider him “eccentric” but despite his terrible bedside manner and his abrasively blunt way of dealing with things Bonheur’s methods seems to always work. Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Best Medicial Pracitioner in Alaska Skilled Pharmacist Veteran Surgeon Notes TBA Dr. James Lofgren Head of NC Analysis “With only one minute to spare and you took down an opponent who seemed to have all of the advantages. Fascinating.” Name James M. Lofgren Appearance TBA Age Thirty-One Role NC Analyst Neurosurgeon Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Well-tested NC Analyst Skilled Neurosurgeon Skilled Psychologist & Therapist Notes TBA Valdislav Kuznetsov Head of Engineering “Quote” Name Valdislav S. Kuznetsov Appearance TBA Age Fifty-Five Role Senior Engineering Officer Mechanic Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Notes TBA Matthew Alvarez Operations Administrator “Your complaints are unfounded, I assure you that everything is going according to plan. Sit down.” Name Matthew L. Alvarez Appearance TBA Age Twenty-Six Role Operations Administrator Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Eidetic Memory Veteran Administrative Assistant Skilled Clerk Notes TBA Katarina Poux Engineering Officer “I just wish there was a way these beautiful machines could be used for good and not evil. There is such opportunity for them to be utilized for good.” Name Katarina “Kat” Poux Appearance Katarina is easy on the eyes when she is cleaned up, but due to her constant tweaking of machinery she tends to have a oil and dust-spotted appearance. Her hair is black that is worn long or in a messy ponytail depending on her time management and awareness. Her eyes are a perceptive hazel and her choices of attire are generally engineering jumpsuits and uniforms; rarely does Katarina remember what it was like to wear loose ‘feminine’ type clothing. Katarina is about average height for her ethnicity and age, setting in at around 5’6”. Age Twenty-Five Role Junior Engineering Officer Personality Katarina is upbeat and chirpy despite her “muddy” profession, choosing to be welcoming and optimistic rather than cynical and realistic. Whilst some might consider her an annoyance, her energy and emotions do set a mood amongst the engineering staff that leads to a good morale boost. However, with the shadow of death this disposition can be damaged and inverted; thus revealing a sort of “hot” and “cold” dynamic to her personality. However, Katarina tries very hard to not be downbeat and thinks things forward and not backward; she had done such dwelling on negative emotions when she was younger after all. Backstory The daughter of a NC pilot and a weapons engineer, Kat has been surrounded by big machines with complex machinery her entire life. A background that would bring the young girl to study all things mechanical and electrical which led to an astute understanding of mechs and traditional armored vehicles alike. Around the age of thirteen years old the world revealed itself to be much more harsh than she had been led to believe despite her parents professions being blatantly a product of their warlike environment. This tragedy was the death of her mother, Piana, when her independent NC was overwhelmed in combat. The effects of said death would bring her father to alcoholism and retirement from working on new NC weapon schematics and prototypes. Kat would go on following in the footsteps of who her father was before the accident and became an exceptional mechanic and designer in her own right., though she couldn’t seem to escape stigmas about her or her family wherever she went. By the age of twenty, following her instruction as an engineer she found herself in the employ of one of the big corporations: Fairbanks. Several months ago she quit her position as an aspiring engineer at Fairbanks due to various reasons and found herself in league with New Anchorage. Tactical Preference & Skills Skilled NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Weapons Designer Notes TBA Ingram Kalfox Financial & Intelligence Agent “It is so nice to see the youth looking optimistically towards their future— and the more ruthless of us trying to redeem their path in life. It brings hope for our time.” Name Ingram Kalfox Appearance TBA Age 43-56 Role Operations Economist Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Comprehensive Knowledge of International NC Pilots Skilled Businessman & Economist Notes TBA Rebecca Marek Operations Commander “---” Name Rebecca “Reb” Marek Appearance TBA Age 28-36 Role Military Commander Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Experienced Soldier & Military Commander Veteran Anti-NC Special Operations Unit Talented in Tactical Analysis Skilled in CQC Marksman Notes TBA
56,108	1,536	74	1,409	1,959	Agatha SmithMess Hall, New Anchorage WITH STEIN A maternal concern dawned on Agatha in the wake of Ingram's departure and the peculiarity of his daughter's reaction. Her keen eye picking up on Stein outright ceasing to breathe as a hand rested on her shoulder much the same way Agatha had done with her own children. She had always glowed with pride when she did the same with her own daughters, barring Ruth who the temerity to grow several inches higher than her. Yet Stein wasn't acting like a child under the glow of a seemingly caring parent's attention. A tremor had run through hands as she reached for her glass, a sign of something she couldn't pin down. There hadn't been any physical or neurological issues in the dossier she read on Stein, though it could be just as likely they would not give out a pilot's full medical history. Or it could be something else... Finally her gaze settled on the untouched food. Agatha was certain she was the lesser actor if compared against Stein as she couldn't mask her disquiet. After running for the past five or so hours the Ace should have been ready to tear into a horse, not leave a full tray unmolested. Tahlia looked up at Agatha with a slightly beweildered look. "Was it something I said?" she spoke as she munched on the food in her mouth "No, I don't reckon it was." Agatha rose from her seat, giving a sorrowful look towards her own largely untouched tray as well. God, i didn't come here to be anyone's mother, but damn it all... "Excuse me, I need to be the duttering old woman once again." Apparently one could quit being a pilot, but being a mom was a lifetime obligation. Heavy was the head that wore such a mantle. With a gentle shrug and a deep exhale, Tahlia gave a slight backhanded wave with her hand, indicating that it was probably best for the Agatha to head off and find out what was bothering Stein. Tahlia wasn't feeling in the best condition for comforting any other pilots at this point in time and was more concerned about preventing a bad hangover. The memory of Stein's tour still fresh in her mind, it was easy enough to arrive at the NC hangars. She emerged into that massive hangar that housed New Anchorage's most valuable weaponry, the Neural Combatants, and flicked the datatool that was mounted to her wrist. "Hmm, if I'm reading this right, then Stein's NC should be right about...here." The Little Dragon, rather an appropriate name for the unassuming beast such as it... and the pilot if Agatha thought on it. It didn't appear to be the stuff of legends, or have some bizarre frame like that spider wreck two bays down, but it seemed like it could hold it's own. Considering Stein was still among the living it probably did so frequently. Now since she had followed Stein to the hangers, and couldn't see her on the ground floor of either row of docked NCs, she felt safe in assuming Stein had entered her NC. Though how am I going to approach her? Can't ask her to come down, and it would be weird to have her looking down at me from up there—" Struck with a sudden jolt of genius she scanned the rows of NCs once more before settling upon the familiar frame of her own NC. A short hop, skip, and jump up the lift brought her to the cockpit of her beloved war machine where she slipped comfortably into the awaiting pilot's seat. Restrained in their docks as they were, she could still open communications with the NC three docks down from here. "So, I'm not the only one who finds it comfy to be sitting behind the wheel, eh Stein?" “What are you doing here.”] The phrase implied a question, but the way the voice on the other end of the line framed it as a statement rather than any sort of inquiry. The tone was as monotonous as it had been throughout the bulk of the day, but there was a certain irritated implication behind it. The response coming through clear and succinct, it's own sharpness cutting through the joviality Agatha tried to project. "I didn't get a chance to get a good look at the NCs earlier. Had to make sure some novice tech didn't leave a spanner somewhere important." She chuckled at her lame attempt at humor. "You got an interesting NC there, hate to wind up on the business end of it." “The Little Dragon is nothing extravagant, it lacks the indulgences of many of the NC's in this hangar.”] "But I'm willing to bet my first first months pay you don't need any of these—" Agatha's head unconsciously tillted back, as though she could see the giant thrusters mounted on Charon's back. "—Indulgencies to be effective." “The Little Dragon had external armaments, but no— weapons such as the ones you infer put more stress on your thermal pressure and soak up too much power. They are more of a gamble than such a wager you suggest.”] "So you favor simplicity and efficiency? That certainly has it's charms." She let a silence build between them for a minute. "So do you come here often, to just sit here in an NC, I mean?" “No, I come here for other reasons. But if you wish to simplify it, yes.”] "I think I will be coming here myself. It's nice being in familiar territory...hey, Stein. Can I talk to you?" “You already are.”] The aged woman barked a racous laugh, gladdened to have walked into that one."I suppose I am. I wanted to apologize for blowing up at Moore earlier. That wasn't how someone should act with their fellow pilots." Agatha didn't want to apologize about Moore, but Stein wasn't her daughter so she couldn't just insert herself into her issues. “It was a waste of time, but I do not care— I am not your commanding officer, you do not need to apologize to me.”] "He's just got me worried about sortying with him, and that kid of his. If he doesn't shape up he's liable to get more than just himself killed." Her own attempted discussion on trust ringing in her head. "Not sure you've read my dossier, but i've, well, been retired for the past few decades. Haven't been paid to pilot since I last saw the commander, actually. Had to get out of this 'cause I had kids on the way and didn't want to leave them orphans like a lot of those independents wind up doing." “I’ve had my words with Moore about his cowardice and the risk of compromising the squad. It is out of my hands and concerns, it is up to him to act or die.”] "And if he gets you killed?" “It won’t. He will not pass Graham's tests as he is; if he does, he will not be the same person.”] "Huh. Hadn't thought of it like that." Agatha scratched under her chin, considering Stein's response. Would being able to pass the tests strengthen his character? Perhaps, considering him showing any initiative would be an improvement. Being able to climb the NC would take a measure of courage for someone like Percy, as opposed to the experience of Stein or Agatha who could perform it as easy as breathing. "Anyone ever tell you that you're a good judge of character?" “No. Has your interrogation been sufficient to sate your curiosity? or do you have more questions?] Agatha cringed, realizing she had been caught. "I thought it was more an exchange than an interrogation. Unless you wanna talk about boys or whatever catches your fancy." She tacked on mirthfully. “I would prefer not to talk at all.”] Even if there was no way Stein could see her, Agatha made a show of zipping her mouth closed and throwing away the key. The link was left open, but if Stein had her fill of conversation she wouldn't push her further. The aged pilot thought she did a good job of getting her mind off whatever had ailed her.	AGATHA SMITH Appearance: Standing at 5’6”, Agatha has sharp features and a smile that could cut an NC to ribbons. Hair once flaxen has long since gone gray, which is pulled into a loose bun. Deep set green eyes and a pointed nose. Some people have told her she has the face of a 1st grade Math teacher who takes joy in assigning homework over the weekend. While not a weight lifter, she has a solid frame from years of hard work on the surface. Tends to wear a faded burgundy vest over an oil stained grey jumpsuit. Age: 58 Role: Scout Sniper Personality: Agatha is a restless woman who finds there is no worse fate than finding yourself without purpose. Give’s 110% percent to everything she does, and is a strong proponent of clean living, or as clean as one can get outside the burrows. Carries herself with a wizened air of experience that comes with age, not book smarts. Could be described as desperate in search for a cause, desperate enough to come to Anchorage. Doesn't acknowledge her own bitterness with having settled down and giving up on piloting. Feels like she lost out on something important, but can't besmirch her husbands memory or their daughters to disregard their lives together as unimportant. Biography: Born and raised on the surface, Agatha always knew she was a special snowflake. At the bizarrely typical age of 14, she was found compatible to pilot an NC. Like so many before her she was drawn into piloting a bipedal weapon of mass destruction and had many mercantile adventures as an independent NC operator that aren’t worth recollection. The kinds of adventures that blur together but can often be summed up as, ‘Go to exotic locations, meet interesting people, and kill them’. Throughout her ventures she had a loyal mechanic who would have followed her to hell and back by the name of Albert Smith. He wasn’t particularly handsome or clever, but he was loyal, sweet, and won over her affections through his perseverance. At 27 Agatha was married, by 28 she had a daughter and another on the way. Finding their means of employment too dangerous to foster a family, they decided it was prudent for Agatha to set aside the adventuring for a more sedentary lifestyle. Investing their considerable saving towards setting up shop in a scrapyard, Agatha began a new life as a mother and family woman. For years, that was good enough. All the effort she had put forth piloting her NC was directed towards running the scrapyard and raising her kids. There wasn’t the same rush that came with piloting a multi-ton automaton, but she was satisfied for a time. Then the children grew up, and left the nest to find out their own destinies. To be the special snowflakes that have fantastical opportunities all lined up for the taking if they only go out and claim them. Her husband of 29 years had grown ill and passed peacefully in his sleep. That left Agatha, with a job she didn’t care for and no one relying upon her. Most would have considered this time to retire, settle down and indulge herself before the inevitable end, but she couldn’t. Even with the best years of her life in the past, she knew she had more to give. Firing up the old NC, which had been used as a makeshift crane for the scrapyard, she went out to recapture her lost glory, but found there wasn’t any demand for someone so long out of the game. The only ones as desperate as she was where the good folks down at New Anchorage, and they just so happened to be looking for any pilot that would come their way. Tactical Preference: Specializes in the collection and dissemination of tactical information with the armaments to capitalize on this knowledge with unparalleled veracity from long range. Relies upon heavy thrusters to facilitate rapid repositioning to out maneuver and evade enemy forces. Word Color: Teal 008080 NC Codename: Charon Body Type: Moderately armored bipedal NC specialized towards ease of movement and relocation. Meant to be a Sniper who repositions with each shot and endeavors to flank an enemy rather than engage from extreme long range at a stationary position. The armor isn't enough for front line combat, but is sufficient to keep Charon active while exposed during relocation. Equipment: -Powerful, back mounted thruster pack for explosive bursts of propulsion meant for either rapid ascent on a vertical plane or dashing forward to cover long distance in a short time. -Advanced Targeting suite to magnify targets up to 60x and offer thermal and night vision capabilities at range. Will paint targets viewed through optics with a marker that will be relayed to friendly units. Armaments: - PXS-8.0 'Opticor' Super heavy Maser rifle. - leg mounted dumb fire rocket pods. 2 pods per leg, 12 rockets each. - Shoulder mounted smoke grenade launcher.
56,109	1,536	75	923	5,303	STEINHANGARS, NEW ANCHORAGE EVENING I don’t want you here. Why? Stein had done everything correctly to excuse herself from the Mess Hall to escape her emotions like she had done so many times in the past— but unlike in Seattle she wasn’t allowed to get that reprieve. Why couldn’t she have been left alone to handle this by herself? What right did Agatha have pursuing her to the hangars and invading the one place she felt safe? What right did she have lying to her? Stein didn’t plant herself in the cockpit of the Little Dragon to have a conversation with an old washed up pilot trying to regain some semblance of her glory days. The “conversation” may have been seen as harmless by the older woman and perhaps she genuinely cared— but Stein felt persecuted and disrespected by the invasive behavior. Stein was no her daughter. She wasn’t her mother. The blonde-haired girl gritted her teeth as her anxiety and discomfort overtook her, shaking in her seat. WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? I DON’T NEED YOU! She was not a child who needed to be reassured by a protective mother after something bad happened— and Agatha had no right to do what she did. Stein didn’t have a mother growing up… and she didn’t need a fake one in the present. She flicked the switch to her communication channels, rendering her lines mute— and she screamed at the top of her lungs, tears running down her face as she did so. GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT. Stein slammed her fists downward into the steel paneling, a loud ‘CRACK’ occurring as she did so— the metal denting slightly as blood from her fingers began to drip down the sheen of silver and gray. Tears dropped onto the floor following the splatter that left her fingers and Stein’s lips whispered a few words in a hush. The comm’s were muted, there was no way to hear her. “…help me.” Stein's head dropped into a hanging posture. I'm not okay.	NPC DOSSIERS \| NEW ANCHORAGE NPCs \| Commander Michael Graham Commanding Officer & Operations Director “I don’t believe in children’s fantasies of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, I believe in the absolute principle of order— a concept that promotes excellence, professionalism, integrity, organization, and heart. Order doesn’t allow fantasy, order allows you to be happy with your reality.” Name Michael A. Graham Appearance Commander Graham is a man that looks a decade younger than he appears, which is a bit of an oddity in his profession. Standing at six foot even and a rigorously sculpted physique Graham has proven that age is not a factor in the efforts of a professional soldier. Accompanied by dark blue-black hair that is drawn to mid-length and faded brown eyes, Graham despite the intensity he invokes is not abrasive to look at which in the past he had used to his advantage to get the wits on several enemies including rough-edged females of the criminal element. Graham has few preferences for attire— a uniform when it is available, or a loose synthweave jacket and military-fitted clothing for alternative “casual” situations. Age Forty-Three Role Operations Director Personality Claiming to have no place for childish fantasies of morality, Michael Graham serves to believe strictly in the concept of order as in his eyes it is the only answer to life. As a military commander Graham has been called ruthless, strict, abrasive, absolutist, and demanding— all of which are, in part, true to his character. Caring not for how people see him, Graham prescribes to a militarized belief of organization, rigorous expectation, and self-fulfillment through commitment. However, he is not so simply defined as a military drone given he has explored the world with a bit of a wanderlust that harkens back to his days as an aggressive and unruly NC pilot youth. Graham’s nuances and depth will be truly hard to uncover, though, as it seems as he isn’t privy to sharing. Backstory Michael Aldous Graham was born in the mega-city known as Las Vegas in 2634 within the jurisdiction of the Denver-Vegas Corporation. As an orphaned child, Graham ████████████████████████████ and was enlisted at age of seven years old and was administered to a military camp for training children. This allowed a form of ███████ to recruits to groom them into the ideal soldier. During a mandatory study of a psychological exam it was discovered that Graham was born with the ability to pilot NC’s. He was then sent off to a NC-specialized variant of the camp to which he met many like-minded children of his age and bonded with many of them. Throughout his time at the camp he was discovered to be one of the top three recruits of 2642. The others being ███████ and ███████. The three would become known as Denver-Vegas’ “Blood Trinity” as they became a force of reckoning. Starting in 2647 at The Skirmish of Andreas Fault. Sent in to deal with Red-Star insurgents that had began to encroach on Denver-Vegas territory beyond their corporate holdings in California, Graham and his comrades were said to “single-handedly” win the skirmish, though records are incomplete as sensor array camera footage has been buried in Denver-Vegas archives. As the dispute between Red-Star and Denver-Vegas continued Graham and his comrades gained prestige as the battles got more destructive and chaotic. By the end of the war the trinity had earned a reputation that would cement itself in legend— a status that would be tested when Graham found himself in a one-on-one skirmish with veteran independent pilot Agatha Smith. Following the Andreas Dispute War, Graham was thrown back into the thick of it not long after when Denver-Vegas declared war on the Volkov Corporation who had “unfairly” acquired Elysian Dream. Seven long years poured into the war and at the end of it the death of ███████ by the hands of a Volkov pilot by the name of ███████. Unsurprisingly, the death was earth-shaking for both Graham and ███████, who began to see that they weren’t as invulnerable as they were led to believe. Following the death of one trinity member Denver-Vegas found their battles going downhill against Volkov’s tactical advances and eventually they sued for peace. Elysian Dream remained in Volkov hands. In the time since the Elysian War, Graham found himself earning several promotions such as first officer, field captain, squadron commander, and operations commander. However, for reasons unknown Graham resigned from Denver-Vegas in 2673, opting to work independently. His record suggests operations collaborating with Fairbanks, Paragon, and smaller independents— never sticking around for long. New Anchorage hopes he will stay on permanently. Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran Military Commander Experienced NC Pilot Adept with Tactical Analysis Expert Marksman CQC Expertise Notes Graham absolutely detests nicknames— he will reprimand those who do not refer to him as commander, sir, or his surname. There has few people who he has tolerated nicknames from in his past and they are no longer part of his life. Graham has two adult children he knows about, aged 21 and 18. He has employed both of them. Dr. Herbert Bonheur Head of Medicine “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. Forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad.” Name Herbert H. Bonheur Appearance TBA Age Forty-Six Role Head of Medicine Personality Bonheur is admittedly rather obtuse given that his way of thinking isn’t exactly easy to understand by others; even fellow doctors. Coupled with a loose, casual demeanor and mannerisms that lead many to believe that the years of caffeine-induced dieting has led him to speak similar that may be a bit too quick for people to generally follow. Some consider Bonheur “insane” whilst others consider him “eccentric” but despite his terrible bedside manner and his abrasively blunt way of dealing with things Bonheur’s methods seems to always work. Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Best Medicial Pracitioner in Alaska Skilled Pharmacist Veteran Surgeon Notes TBA Dr. James Lofgren Head of NC Analysis “With only one minute to spare and you took down an opponent who seemed to have all of the advantages. Fascinating.” Name James M. Lofgren Appearance TBA Age Thirty-One Role NC Analyst Neurosurgeon Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Well-tested NC Analyst Skilled Neurosurgeon Skilled Psychologist & Therapist Notes TBA Valdislav Kuznetsov Head of Engineering “Quote” Name Valdislav S. Kuznetsov Appearance TBA Age Fifty-Five Role Senior Engineering Officer Mechanic Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Notes TBA Matthew Alvarez Operations Administrator “Your complaints are unfounded, I assure you that everything is going according to plan. Sit down.” Name Matthew L. Alvarez Appearance TBA Age Twenty-Six Role Operations Administrator Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Eidetic Memory Veteran Administrative Assistant Skilled Clerk Notes TBA Katarina Poux Engineering Officer “I just wish there was a way these beautiful machines could be used for good and not evil. There is such opportunity for them to be utilized for good.” Name Katarina “Kat” Poux Appearance Katarina is easy on the eyes when she is cleaned up, but due to her constant tweaking of machinery she tends to have a oil and dust-spotted appearance. Her hair is black that is worn long or in a messy ponytail depending on her time management and awareness. Her eyes are a perceptive hazel and her choices of attire are generally engineering jumpsuits and uniforms; rarely does Katarina remember what it was like to wear loose ‘feminine’ type clothing. Katarina is about average height for her ethnicity and age, setting in at around 5’6”. Age Twenty-Five Role Junior Engineering Officer Personality Katarina is upbeat and chirpy despite her “muddy” profession, choosing to be welcoming and optimistic rather than cynical and realistic. Whilst some might consider her an annoyance, her energy and emotions do set a mood amongst the engineering staff that leads to a good morale boost. However, with the shadow of death this disposition can be damaged and inverted; thus revealing a sort of “hot” and “cold” dynamic to her personality. However, Katarina tries very hard to not be downbeat and thinks things forward and not backward; she had done such dwelling on negative emotions when she was younger after all. Backstory The daughter of a NC pilot and a weapons engineer, Kat has been surrounded by big machines with complex machinery her entire life. A background that would bring the young girl to study all things mechanical and electrical which led to an astute understanding of mechs and traditional armored vehicles alike. Around the age of thirteen years old the world revealed itself to be much more harsh than she had been led to believe despite her parents professions being blatantly a product of their warlike environment. This tragedy was the death of her mother, Piana, when her independent NC was overwhelmed in combat. The effects of said death would bring her father to alcoholism and retirement from working on new NC weapon schematics and prototypes. Kat would go on following in the footsteps of who her father was before the accident and became an exceptional mechanic and designer in her own right., though she couldn’t seem to escape stigmas about her or her family wherever she went. By the age of twenty, following her instruction as an engineer she found herself in the employ of one of the big corporations: Fairbanks. Several months ago she quit her position as an aspiring engineer at Fairbanks due to various reasons and found herself in league with New Anchorage. Tactical Preference & Skills Skilled NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Weapons Designer Notes TBA Ingram Kalfox Financial & Intelligence Agent “It is so nice to see the youth looking optimistically towards their future— and the more ruthless of us trying to redeem their path in life. It brings hope for our time.” Name Ingram Kalfox Appearance TBA Age 43-56 Role Operations Economist Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Comprehensive Knowledge of International NC Pilots Skilled Businessman & Economist Notes TBA Rebecca Marek Operations Commander “---” Name Rebecca “Reb” Marek Appearance TBA Age 28-36 Role Military Commander Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Experienced Soldier & Military Commander Veteran Anti-NC Special Operations Unit Talented in Tactical Analysis Skilled in CQC Marksman Notes TBA
56,110	1,536	76	1,372	1,641	Joshua RayMESS HALL/HANGAR, NEW ANCHORAGE Joshua Ray was in the hangar, looking around his Apollo and making sure it was in the best possible shape. For once, at a glance it seemed like nobody damaged or mishandled anything, which was a pleasant surprise. Inspecting it with renewed vigor once more, paranoia setting in, he found a damn bird nest in the unit's left leg tucked inside the knee plate. Well, he certainly never seen that before. It was, for him, thankfully vacant. He had to take longer then expected cleaning it, and not long after he was done noted he'd be a few minutes late to eat. "Ah, no...", he whispered to nobody in particular as he begin running towards the mess hall, coming in two minutes late. He looked around the room, afraid he wouldn't be able to get to eat due to his 'insolence' or whatever term they'd use this time– but, somehow, there wasn't much of a lecture or consequences as far as he could tell by one of the command officer's not doing much except jotting his name down on their datatool. Seemingly in the clear, he then went to get some food somewhat absentmindedly, more focused on surveying the situation with the other pilots and various staff members. As far as he knew, only two pilots were there at a glance. Mostly wanting to get it done and minimize contact with the staff, he decided upon the standard this day (in order of importance) of bacon, potatoes, and sausages. Going away, he added some bread and some meat he couldn't recognize. Nonetheless, he sat down away from anybody else and alone, as he usually preferred, to eat in peace. Of course, he couldn't say no if anybody wanted to quietly eat with him.	Joshua Ray Appearance Joshua Ray is a twenty-seven year old young man with brown eyes, long black hair in a pony-tail, and a somewhat lanky frame. He stands about six feet tall and weighs approximately 150 pounds. While he is somewhat squishy, he isn't weak in terms of strength. His skin is notably pale for a 'Surface-Dweller' due to his sheltered upbringing, and he carries himself as if he doesn't want to make a scene at most times. Age 27 Role Joshua Ray fits into both a 'Heavily-armored heavy weapons specialist' and 'High mobility demolitions' role. Due to this, his NC can fit both. Personality Joshua Ray is a kind, optimistic young man with fire and hope in his eyes, possessed by a desire to make the world a better place and wander around. That's what he'd be doing if he had any say in the matter, but a man with an NC has to eat. He dislikes doing extremely 'dirty' operations, yet is just fine being a more cunning or surreptitious sort. He's not one to talk often, but he does appreciate company, as long as they're also of the more silent type. He's easily noted for his somewhat deadpan, snarky humor and mild self-deprecating tendencies, yet maintaining a fairly friendly demeanor. However, for all of his love of justice and morality, he's a bit of a coward. Backstory Joshua Ray grew up in one of the many scattered surface settlements, in a still somewhat irradiated, yet peaceful area in one of outlying Denver-Vegas territories. Living a somewhat sheltered life, he developed a love of reading pre-war and modern stories, documents, and religious writings, not to mention a strong sense of righteousness and morality that stands with him to this day. When he was of age, he began wandering the world with his own two feet, going from continent to continent by salvaged boat or independent aerial transporters. Doing odd-jobs as needed around the world, he never lost his thirst for justice nor his hope to play a part in creating a better future for all of mankind. One day while working in a medical facility, what appeared to be an error in some minor group or another's "Neural-Combatant Compatibility" detection hardware revealed that he had the necessary mental or psychological asset that gave him the capability to control one. Calling in favors with friends and extended family, he soon found himself controlling a custom-built lightweight NC known as the Apollo, after an absolutely ancient group or project that apparently resulted in men landing on the moon overhead. While originally built from scrap at a junkyard and using hand-me-down Neural Nets and software, over three years the Apollo turned into the heavily armed and armored beast it is today. Eventually, however, he accepted all the independent contracts that he was any interested in, and decided to finally fall into a larger group. Going from one corporate army to another, he now waits to see if New Anchorage wants him or not. Tactical Preference & Skills Ray is highly adept at high-speed pursuit and maneuvering, managing heavy weapons, and bracing/fidgeting before impact to reduce the lethality of enemy attacks. His best skill, however, is his ability to determine the situation he's in and the safest way out if need be. Notes Joshua Ray's favorite pastimes include star-gazing, reading ancient and modern documents and stories, and finally contemplating with others about the universe and humanity's place. Not to mention video games. Text Color ff4c4c Apollo 'Heavy' AppearanceThe red Apollo 'Heavy' is a somewhat bulky heavily armored unit with many reaction control verniers and weapon mountings. While a thicker example of an NC, it is still a fairly sleek and well-rounded unit, armor able to render most non-specialist weapons fairly useless. Body & Type The Apollo is a heavily armed and armored bipedal type, with additional jets compared to most other heavy NC's, giving it a decent amount of maneuverability for its weight class. Although, it's still not particularly quick in a straight line. The NC itself stands at a mighty 26 meters, towering over medium weights and lightweights, although just a bit on the short side for fellow heavies. Equipment & Armaments The Apollo 'Heavy' is very well armed, with weapons and equipment including: One right-handed custom-built heavy particle rifle, firing deadly globs of hydrogen based plasma. It has a very high rate of fire for a weapon of its class and individual shot-strength, and has additional heatsinks compared to your standard plasma weapon. Due to these qualities, it's a very good suppression and anti-NC weapon, although its long range abilities are moot, and it can only reasonably fire when the NC is maneuvering slower. Made out of a combination of Paragon, Volkov, and Magen parts. Six 1 meter diameter missile racks on the back 'wings', these can take many types of warheads and missile bodies, although Ray usually loads them with long-range anti-armor missiles. 1 Heavy siege-shield, fitted with heat-resistant coating and sharpened to the point it can be used similar to a 'Pile-bunker' gauntlet. Fitted on the left arm with a gauntlet, leaving the hand free. 1 left-handed kinetic sniper rifle with a belt-feed. Based using Denver-Vegas parts, this rifle has a very long operational range and can easily damage most NC's and slow, armored targets like bunkers or naval ships. 2 hip-mounted Thermal Cleavers, each with a pointed tip, allowing them to slash and stab with equal ability. They are generally folded up like a butterfly knife on each hip, unless in use. One is as long as the NC's arm, and the other is about half as long, similar to a Katana and Wakizashi pair, although the blades are straight and less fancy. The Apollo is also equipped with an array of chaff-launchers, fitted with four charges of a special type of chaff that interferes with infrared and RADAR targeted weapons, while also reducing the capability of laser or particle arms. Finally, all of the units' ammunition is stored on a large backpack right beneath the units' thruster 'wings', with two feeds connecting to the Apollo's plasma caster and sniper-rifle, pumping hydrogen and sending large caliber bullets respectively. Fuel is stored inside tanks within the Apollo's legs and the sides of the chest. Unique Feature In an emergency, the heavy armor plating, extraneous thrusters and power-routing cables powering them can be ejected by the heavy clamps and occasional electromagnets that hold them in place. This results in the Apollo 'Heavy' effectively turning into the Apollo 'Light', with changed features below. Apollo 'Light' Appearance The Apollo Light is a thinly armored NC that is in all actuality just the frame for a much larger one, yet able to act independently. Standing two meters lower than its original form, the Apollo-Light is still taller then most average NC's, yet less so. The Apollo Heavy's shield divides in two at the middle, and combines with the now armorless wing-portion to form two large 'binders' on the backside. The motions of these in flight can severely enhance the rotational and maneuverability based capabilities of the NC. Body & Type The Apollo-Light is nearly armorless in comparison to the Heavy form, but the power generator, now having to feed a smaller amount of turbojets maneuvering a lighter NC, can overdrive the aforementioned for even more speed. Of course, the now 'needlessly heavy' systems installed do weigh it down to the point it's not as fast as it could be if optimized. Equipment & Armaments Much less heavily armed compared to the Apollo 'Heavy', the inner frame of which is only armed with its sniper rifle and plasma-caster, but its ammunition backpack is still in place, alongside its shield, although technically. Of course, with the armorless wings being able to move, they can still assist in defense. Theoretically, if need be, the connection ports powering the other weapons can send electrical arcs through the air like a tesla-coil, but Ray never tried that before in mild fear. Notes Compared to the 'Heavy form', the 'Light' Apollo is much more worthy as a scout or any other position that requires stealth, with a boxier and thinner design. If needed, it could be outfitted with RADAR-absorbent coating and act as reconnaissance unit.
56,111	1,536	77	1,318	425	PERCY and INGRAMMESS HALL, NEW ANCHORAGE Percy wasn't sure how late he was, but he knew he was at least a couple minutes late. He clutched Ana's hand tight in his as he walked to the mess hall, making note that Stein was quickly walking away from a table with a new face; well, back of the head, at least— along with the older woman from earlier. They were tag-teaming me earlier.. wonder what happened. Before he could really put too much brain power into imagining what might've happened, he felt his daughter tugging on his hand. "Daaadd, c'monn.. I'm hungryyy." "I know, I know," Percy said, still looking at the blonde man. He wasn't sure if he wanted to stay away or go up and meet him; that is until his daughter complained again. He snapped out of his thoughts and got her a tray, walking with her until Percy decided to just convieniently sit close enough to the table this new person was sitting at. He watched the blonde man just to see if he could catch a glimpse of his face, or hear his name, his reason for being there, if he was just visiting, anything. It was better than going up and asking him, at least that was Percy's train of thought. "Dad?" Percy gave his attention to his child, unable to speak because of the simple fact he had food in his mouth. "You're being kinda weird," Ana said as she got another forkful in her mouth. She swallowed before speaking again, "Why are you staring at the guy in the suit? Do you think he's cute or something?" The pilot almost choked when she said that last part, his voice going into a quick whisper. "No. Ana, you can't— don't ask stuff like that out loud," Ana was about to chime in with another comment, but the man in question let out an audible chuckle as he put his fork down on his tray. “Your daughter is very forward. What can I help you with?” "I'm so sorry. I-it's nothing, really-" "Dad thinks you're cute," Ana insisted. "I do not- I-I mean, no offense- you're not like-" he stopped himself right there. Before Ingram could respond, Percy continue, "Who are you exactly?" “Ingram Kalfox. A pleasure.” His eyes moved from the adult pilot to his daughter. Percy noted that glance to his kid - it seemed harmless enough, but still. It didn't.. feel right, and he couldn't really place why. Percy opened his mouth to speak, but Ana spoke first, "Kalfox is Stein's last name, isn't it? Are you her dad or something?" “I am her father, yes.” He chuckled, nodding to the question. "So she's not a robot?" Percy didn't exactly mean to say that out loud, but the way he delivered it made it out like he was just joking. Thank God. “I assure you that I procreated, just as you did.” "Procreated?" Ana looked to her dad curiously, going to ask what it was, but Percy just shook his head in the way Ana recognized as 'not right now,' which really meant 'not in a million years.' Before Ingram could scar his daughter with the description of how children are made, Percy spoke, "So what brings you to New Anchorage?" “There was a job opening and I was currently unemployed due to some… complications in Seattle. Pretty simple, really. I had no idea that this was where my daughter ended up, but I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised considering the state of independents these days.” "You didn't know she was here?" Percy asked incredulously. He glanced over to his own child, pulling her a little closer. He always knew where Ana is. How could a parent function without knowing where their baby was? It wouldn't matter if Ana was eight or eighty-eight, he'd want to know where she was. Ana scooted her tray over to where Percy had dragged her so she could continue to eat. “Her career choice is a very mobile one, and I suppose you can say that our relationship is… distant. She has been certainly useful in the choices she has made; as was expected.” The more he talked to Ingram, the less Percy liked him. He seemed alright at first glance, but now he wasn't so sure. Especially after that "useful" comment. His expression definitely showed his disdain in that moment, too. He kept his arm around Ana's shoulders as if he was afraid she'd just fly away and never return. The child could tell something was wrong, but she simply continued to eat. "What do you mean by useful, exactly?" “Ah, right; you’re not from the megacities. He paused for a minute as he took a drink of water. “My daughter, Anastasia, was always a talented young girl; she was always good at logical games such as puzzles, chess, and the like so when it was discovered that she tested positive for neural compatibility it wasn't too much of a surprise. It became a great thing for both of us; she found herself doing something she was not only talented at, but also something she enjoyed— and for myself I became quite proud of her achievements even though we were now so separate when before we were never apart.” Ana looked up to her father, that last bit in particular making her feel.. something. She wasn't sure what. She knew it didn't feel very nice, and she wanted to just leave. Something about it just didn't feel right. Maybe it was the tone of his voice mixed with the words. Percy, too, felt something - fear. He didn't really want to think that eventually he and his kid would become that distant. He rubbed his hands together nervously, trying to think of how to respond to that, but he really wasn't sure for a few moments. The pilot cleared his throat before he spoke, "But what did you mean by useful, Mr. Kalfox? That's not how someone would refer to their kid... unless megacities really are that different?" “Not so. That’s how you wouldn’t refer to your kid. Remember that we come from very different upbringings.. The megacities are indeed that different. As for what I meant, the Volkov Corporation was very happy with the success of their “Little Dragon” and rewarded me and her for it. I never asked for it, nor she, but it was a product of our environment - it was a matter of fact. But then again, life in New Anchorage isn't all that great and perfect either, is it, Percy?” Ingram looked to the pilot's wedding rings, as if he telegraphed the point of what he meant without saying it before returning his glance to Percy's face. At that, Percy started to mess with the rings on his hand. Is everyone going to point them out or what? "It's just a fashion statement," the pilot said, "screw the government and all." His delivery of that statement failed to convince and he knew it. He didn't even look like the kind of guy to rebel like that, with his flaming red hair and freckles. “Heh. Ironic how you are working for New Anchorage's government, then. But I suppose many of us sacrifice our ideals and principles for money” Ingram commented before returning to his food. "Well I'm on good terms with my child, but.. I guess people make sacrifices for money, huh?" Percy quickly retorted, a bit more direct than Ingram was. He was getting pissed off and he knew it - again, he said something that he didn't really intend on letting out. “Indeed. Anyway, this discourse has been fascinating, but I really should make better use of my free time. Cheers.” Ingram stated as he stood up with his empty tray of food before discarding it. He made a slight wave at the two as he left the Mess Hall.	Percy J. Moore Age: 32 Role: > Support Appearance: He's a pretty average looking guy. He's about 5 ft 8in, 167 lbs. He has red hair and freckles all over his body, suggesting he's at least a little Irish. At least a little. Even though everything else about him seems warm and inviting, his eyes are a cool gray blue. Some people have told him he looks a little girly, but his stubble shows otherwise. He also has a little bit of a nose on him. Normally, he'd wear a blue jean jacket with a faux fur collar with a dark sandy brown turtleneck underneath, light jeans with dark long-johns underneath, and some worn but sturdy leather-y hiking boots (with socks, of course). He also has a set of more intimidating black steel toed boots, but he doesn't wear those very often. He also has two silver rings on his left hand. One is his wedding ring, the other is his wife's. The glasses shown in the picture are merely for reading. (I just couldn't keep the glasses-wearing Percy to myself tho like look at him) Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) He's got one or two screws a little bit loose.. He's paranoid, temperamental, overprotective and has a very hard time relaxing. Under all that he's really just scared. He's scared for his daughter and himself. He doesn't want his girl to end up like her mother - dead - or him - an emotional mess that's barely got his shit together. If you can get through the barrier to the guy underneath it, you've got yourself a friend that's gonna have your back 99% of the time. Backstory: He was living an average life that was as comfortable as it can be in a wasteland with his mother and father in Smith's Rest.. maybe even a little bit sheltered. After moving out of the house so he can have some time to really figure out who he was as a person, his parents died shortly after because of a disease that was spreading across the settlement. A few years after that, and after a few romps with some other people, he met a lovely woman that was just a year older than him - Laura. Laura was, in his eyes, very pretty, very intelligent, and very much the yin to his yang. They just clicked. They had a child out of wedlock, but they married after their little girl, Ana, was born. A few months later, as they were finally settled into parenthood and Percy thought that maybe everything's alright, Laura was killed in an accident in her workplace. Percy had to tackle parenthood alone. He did awfully at first - Laura was a much better parent than he was at that point in time - but he gradually got better. Ana grew up to be a bright eyed little girl. He took the job because he was in need of the huge sum of money promised. He thought he could just get in, get out, be over with it.. It'd be easy! He was so, so wrong - he figured that one out after the surgery to get his plug.. That's what he gets for not reading the fine print. After dealing with a surprise attack on Smith's Rest, he's gotten meaner and a little less forgiving. Then, after the events of the Navy attack, his NC was damaged to the point it locked up, was able to be toppled, and the right side of his body was mangled pretty badly - so badly in fact, on top of breaking his leg, he lost his hand. His face was luckily kept in tact. He's back into what Sophia called the unfair game with much hesitance.. he prays he doesn't lose any more body parts. Tactical Preference & Skills: > He'd rather stay away from bloodshed if he can, but if he can't, sticking close to the team would be his second choice. He has a very strong desire to protect those around him, even if they're in huge mechas, making him an adequate support. > If he was to do a solo mission and the only person he has to worry about is himself (and he's confident that he'll be fine), he would find no issues with getting his metal hands dirty. Or oily, I guess. Notes: > He hates getting drunk - not because of what it does to him, but because his hangovers are awful > He has pistol that's been passed down for generations upon generations. It's technically obsolete, but he's very good at using it. > He also has a pocket knife that was a sort of "parting gift" from Sophia (the former commander). > He has a prosthetic hand now. He both hates it and kind of totally loves it. > His sync rate is around 75-90%, depending on his mental state. Text Color: LightSteelBlue, or b0c4de Codename: Papa Mike Appearance:: Looks clunkier and heavier than it really is. Basic metallic black paint with white accents. Has a couple dings here and there, but it's not affecting anything major. Older model modified to meet standards of the present, really. Body & Type: > Bipedal > Originally designed to be semi-proficient at most tasks. Has been modified to be faster and more powerful than the original. Equipment: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > Slightly damaged stock neural computer - a bug in the computer is that it calls Percy "Micheal" instead of "Percy." Percy has tried to fix it but is afraid he'll break something else. He's not a coder for fuck's sake. > Above-average thrusters specifically designed for short bursts of speed > Slightly above average generator Armaments: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > VEKW-01.65 (New-Anchorage Custom - 35 rounds, mid-to-long-range) > PPB-2.71 (New-Anchorage Custom - melee (laser sword), standard white in color) Small Standard Fairbanks-Model missile launcher on the back (3 missile burst, long-range) random tidbits (will be added to as I think of things) > Before the NC was Percy's, it belonged to a guy named Michael who was actually an assault/support for his squad.. hence the computer calling him "Michael" :P Ana L. Moore The redhead is Ana. The ushanka girl is Vera Age: 8 Appearance: She's just past the average height of girls her age, being 4ft 2in, but she's underweight at 50 lbs. She shares many of her father's physical traits, just softened (especially her nose). She also has his red hair and freckles - her freckles are more in her face, however. Her eyes are a very lovely shade of green. She's usually wearing a pink and white striped sweater that's beaten up from being worn so often, some dark pants that are equally as beat up, and some shoes that are so worn it's probably time for new ones. She has what she would call "a dumb monkey hat with stupid looking gloves that match" that she really would prefer not to wear (she's eight, not FIVE), but her father makes her wear it sometimes when it's colder than usual. Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) Despite all that's happened, she's still very optimistic and caring. She's got a will made of titanium and she's braver than she realizes she is - even braver than her father, who she feels is the bravest person in the whole world. She's a little bit like her father in the sense that she also has a touch of a temper as well... maybe not a touch. Backstory: She was born to Laura and Percy. She never knew her mother, because she died when she was little. When the surprise attack in Smith's Rest happened, she was almost taken away for who knows what purpose. Almost. She was saved, but her perceptions of the world changed pretty drastically. She didn't know just how scary the world was till then. She's slowly learning to deal with the nightmares, but she probably won't like confined spaces very much. Notes: > She stole a box of crayons from the school once. She still has that box of crayons. > She absolutely loves dogs. Puppies are awesome. > She is very much capable of taking care of herself.. for the most part. > She's a bit clumsy - she has a very tiny, almost unnoticeable scar on her nose, between her eyes. she walked into a door frame when she was little. > Birthday is August 7th. Text Color: Violet or ee82ee
56,112	1,536	78	1,524	552	ELI and VERAEli's Room, New Anchorage Eli was in and out of the mess hall quickly, her appetite surprisingly tame and her will to remain around company unsurprisingly dwindled, especially once she realized Vera was not present. She’d arrived from the VR training late, but not by much, which meant either the girl had missed dinner, or she’d hurried to get out. Eli angrily wondered at first if one of the new pilots had frightened her off, but in truth it was more likely that she herself was the cause. The guilt began to set in. She’d left Vera in a shaken huff, then abandoned her to go and practice. It was justified. She hadn’t even looked back when she went to follow Graham. You needed to train, you’re behind. They expect more. You shouldn’t have waited. When she arrived at the barracks, Eli made absolutely sure the hall was clear, before collapsing down the wall to sit on the ground. It felt good to relax, like her skin was unwinding into millions of threads, she felt like she was floating, but she couldn’t relish in it. Her palms began to ache again, distinct from the pulsing of fear she’d felt earlier, it was the cold throb of regret. You hurt her. You scare her. The pain returned, seeping down her back, her arms, her legs. She clamped her teeth together, shut her eyes tight. Stop. Stop. Stop. her nails dug into her palms, her toes curled in her boots, the threads of her skin became a constricting cage once again. “With wings and skies like birds I’d wanna fly~” Eli’s head shot up and she scrambled to her feet before even looking around. It was a good few moments before she realized no one was in the hall with her, but that the singing was coming from one of the rooms. It was an embarrassing few more before she retroactively recognized Vera’s voice. Sure enough, as she approached her door, the singing –and the music accompanying it– grew louder, and when she opened it up, Vera shrieked. ”Hey Lizzy! Sorry, you spooked me,” she giggled. Eli stood stiff at the threshold. ”Ya gonna come in?” But Vera was already leading her by the wrist, shutting and locking the door behind before picking Eli’s datapad back up –the source of the music. ”Missed ya at dinner, but I guess I didn’t really stick around. Kinda felt like chillin’ here, y’know?” ”I…” Eli couldn’t find the words, silently watching as Vera absently tossed the device back onto the bed, the upbeat brass and drums of the song filling their room. The girl bounced on her feet from side to side, moving her arms and popping her shoulders up and down in some beginnings of a dance. ”You feelin’ this song? I’m feelin’ this song,” Vera shimmied over, twirling once on the balls of her feet before bumping her hips against Eli’s thigh. ”Ah? Ah?” Eli had to restrain herself from snatching the girl up to hug her. She wanted to apologize, wanted to make promises that she’d kill and die to keep, she wanted to hold her hand and never let go. Instead, she shed her coat, then her scarf, and shook her head. ”It’s been a long day Vi, I…I’m tired.” She prepared for the disappointment, but it never came. Vera just bumped against her side again, smile unyielding. Eli found her hips swaying in response. ”Hah! Now you’re feelin’ it–woo!” Vera began, but Eli took her by the hands and swung them both into the middle of the room. Vera did most of the laughing, and Eli did most of the dancing. Their feet pattered against their makeshift dance floor, twirling, stepping, tapping. Eli hoisted her into the air, spun her under her arm like a ballerina, put the girl’s feet atop her own to waltz chaotic. What soreness remained in her bones faded, overtaken in her mind by a different, more welcome adrenaline that she eagerly lost herself to. Eventually the song ended, they didn’t care, they danced to Vera’s giggling, they danced to the ambient machinery of the facility and the icy, whistling winds outside. They danced until Vera collapsed in a happy heap on the bed, and Eli’s legs felt like rubber. She’d never been happier to be tired. ”I forgot you could dance, how could you let me forget you can dance?” Vera asked, not even attempting to mask the joke with sarcasm. Eli managed to flop down onto the bed beside her, breathing in sweet air, wiping sweat from her brow. She draped her arms around Vera and pulled her in close. ”Sorry.” ”Apology accepted, just don’t let it happen again.” They shared a smile, and Vera returned the hug before they both let themselves drift off to sleep.	Elizabeth Jackspar Age 21 Role Melee Skirmisher Appearance A life dedicated to training has left Eli with a lean, athletic form. An albino, her skin is chalk-white, her long hair a similar color, and her eyes holding a glassy-blue hue. She has a hard gaze and straight posture, like a soldier constantly at attention. Despite this, she’s prone to wearing civilian clothes when things are quiet. Scarves strike her fancy, and she’ll often wear them high on her neck over her mouth, but she’s also prone to gloves and arm warmers. Personality Cold and dismissive to anyone that isn’t her superior, compliant and dutiful to all others with an underlying layer of competitiveness beneath everything. A quick, calculating mind and fast reflexes make Eli a good soldier, but little else unfortunately. In her early teenage years, Eli began suffering from severe and sudden panic attacks, often leaving her an unresponsive wreck. Not knowing how such incidents would affect her daughter's future, her mother went to great lengths to keep the affliction a secret from future potential employers. After a handful of years the attacks decreased in both frequency and intensity without professional assistance, which made concealing them much easier. Tactical Preference/Skills Eli excels in melee combat, preferring swords to firearms and speed to durability. While her specialty is quick execution, she can handle prolonged confrontations, especially against a single opponent. Background ”Eli” Eli was eight years old when she learned her name was short for “Elizabeth”. Her mother, the librarian recluse Celina Jackspar, had used it once, the first time she’d cried during her training. ”Get up, Elizabeth. Now. And never cry in front of me again.” And she never did. The Jackspars might have been lepers for how little they interacted with the world. Confined to a modestly sized library nestled in the corner of what was then “Smith’s Rest”, few ever visited, and fewer were actually aware the spindly, aged woman had a child. With little to their name aside from cases and piles of books, it would not have been unreasonable to assume the family would contribute nothing great to the world. Celina would not allow such an outcome. The training began early, and never slackened. Eli learned from a young age what she was, and would be. She did not attend school, she did not socialize with peers, she rarely left the library at all. Her life was dedication, she had to let go of the urges to want, and focus entirely on the future. ”Up.” And she got up. The Jackspars could afford no firearms, and so forewent practicing them. Instead it was decided that Eli would master the art of melee combat in their absence. Lyosha Voloshyna, a carpenter and one of the family’s only “friends”, happily supplied them with wooden models of various swords, ranging from the typical and familiar, to the foreign and unique. Eli was made to train with them day in and day out. They would not be weapons held, they would be extensions of her own body, or she would fall short. Countless other prospective pilots had the advantage of proper training, they could afford to be merely “adequate” so long as they rounded out a checklist and passed the neural exam. ”I don’t want you on-par, I want you better. Keep going.” And she would. Hour after hour Eli practiced, submitting herself to the forms and tests of balance. By the time she was in her middle teens, picking up a sword felt like raising her hand, swinging felt like punching. Her threshold for pain was pushed further each day, and every time she kept her mouth shut, kept her face calm, she would catch the ghost of a smirk flicker over her mother’s face. Moving had become a dance, and she was the prima. When she was fifteen, a practice sword broke in her hand, splintering midway down the blade. It was old, nothing unexpected, and the shattering caused her no physical harm. All the same Eli froze, wide eyes fixated on the broken blade, and her arm, then the girl collapsed in a fit of agony. Celina watched, shocked. ”Get up.” But she didn’t. ”Elizabeth, get. Up.” But she couldn’t. It took all of her strength not to cry. It was her first major incident, and the only one Celina ever saw. It took a few years to realize they weren’t going to stop, and seeking professional psychiatric help would murder Eli’s chances at becoming a pilot, so Celina resolved to handle the situation in her own way. Eli knew Eli. Celina knew Elizabeth. ”Stop shaking.” And she would. The final years leading up to application were smooth by Celina’s standards. Her daughter was sharp, fast, resilient, and above all, obedient. She would protect Smith’s Rest, she would protect its people, and she would do so under the instruction of whosoever commanded the forces. Second to her, of course. ”Don’t disappoint me.” And she wouldn’t. -Helped defeat Knight and Rook alongside Percy Moore, Madison Cole, John Strange, and Joe Verona -Took on her younger sister, Vera, as an “assistant” -Bonded with the previous commander, Sophia -Suffered a gruesome defeat at the first assault on Smith’s Rest -Shaken by Sophia’s desertion Text Color: color=6ecff6 Example. Blur :Body-Plan: Blur is a humanoid, bipedal NC, designed to move and strike quickly. Its armor is lacking, but a myriad of thrusters allow not only for fast evasive maneuvers, but also for gap-closing on enemies. :Type/Quality: Blur is designed to be an up-close-and-personal NC, meant to close in on key targets before engaging in a melee assault. In this, Blur excels, and should the enemy be unequipped for close-range combat, they may have trouble. However range is her crux, and while Blur is good at evading enemy fire, should one corner her from far enough away, there is little she can do to get out of the situation. Though Eli would never admit it, Blur works best with, and sometimes even requires a team. :Equipment: -Sets of thrusters allowing for enhanced mobility and sustained flight. -Flare caches for more difficult evasive maneuvers. -Targeting system designed to track a single enemy and suggest/allocate NC power to close the distance in the quickest/most effective manner. Suggestions are automatic, control/execution is manual. :Armaments: -Standard-Issue NC Beam Sword -PPB-2.71 “Plasma Sword” (Purchased) -Deployable “Finger-Claws” (New-Anchorage Custom) -Set of demolition charges sized for NC's. The charges are kept as two separate components that are combined individually in their storage to become armed as needed, so as to avoid detonation from trauma to the housing NC. --- Vera Voloshyna (Left, Ana Moore. Right, Vera Voloshyna) Age 13 Appearance Vera’s short, her blonde hair equally so, and her eyes are vibrant, lively green. She’s taken to dressing like Eli in some cases, with scarves and hoodies and the like, and generally has smudges of dirt or oil on her face. One of her front teeth bears a chip to it. Personality Vera is both easily excitable and hard to bring down. The girl almost always has a smile on her face whether something fun is happening or not, and tends to be more on the gullible side. Background Vera’s parents were at Smith’s Rest long before she was born. Her mother was a doctor, and as Vera understands it she helped Ms. Jackspar deliver her daughter not long after their arrival, and it wasn’t until more than a decade later that she herself was born. Their families grew close, and Ms. Jackspar took on a completely different, warmer persona around the Voloshynas. When Vera was two, she spent much of her time being babysat by them, when she was five, she had managed to befriend Ms. Jackspar’s daughter, Elizabeth. When she was six, her parents vanished. The family had received threats multiple times over the course of their stay from residents none too fond of the Russian Volkov Security. The Voloshyna’s tried in vain to explain they held no part in the company’s actions, but when at last the threats turned to violence, they had no choice. The letters never addressed their daughter, perhaps because she spent so much time with the Jackspars it was assumed she was just another one of them. Regardless, when Vera’s parents fled they took the opportunity to leave her in the care of their friend, who agreed without complaint or protest. The girl did the rest of her growing up around Elizabeth, and the two grew incredibly close. She did not receive the same harsh training as Elizabeth but Ms. Jackspar did teach her a few tricks to keeping well in the settlement. -Due to an increasingly dangerous home environment, Celina sent her to "assist" Eli on-base. -Survived the assault on Smith's Rest Text Color: color=662d91 Example.
56,113	1,536	79	1,318	425	PERCYMESS HALL/BARRACKS, NEW ANCHORAGE Percy’s jaw hurt from having his teeth clenched so tightly. This whole day has just thoroughly fucked with his head. First it was that stupid fucking table, then it was Graham using his wife like that’s going to affect him, then it was seeing Agatha and Stein conquer the test he thought impossible, then finally it was this blonde prick in his stupid suit. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take in a day. He was so close to snapping at the next person that spoke to him. So. Very. Close. But he couldn’t. He’s better than that. He’s not an emotional coward like everyone is trying to paint him as. He’s not the one that’s poking and prodding at the guy with the kid, everyone else is. And he's the one being prodded and poked at! He didn’t need five different people telling him he was an absolute wuss of a man, a fuck-up of a father, and an inadequate husband, but he sure got it today! He didn’t need ANYONE else to tell him just how AWFUL he was, cause he’s been doing it all by himself. He didn't need the fucking help. “Are you mad?” “What d’you think?” Percy hissed through grit teeth. It took him a moment to realize what he just said, and to who. “I’d be mad too,” Ana replied, not seeming to care about her father’s tone of voice. Percy knew better, though - she was speaking in the tone of voice she’d use if she was getting scolded, almost like she’s asking a question more than stating something. Percy exhaled, trying to get his nervous energy out so he can speak properly and not sound like he’s going to murder his own child. ”Are you done eating?” Ana nodded, sliding her tray over to Percy’s. The pilot stacked the two used trays on the counter where they could be picked up to be cleaned, then walked with his child back to their shared room, Percy unlocking the door with a simple tap-tap-flick on his datatool. Ana walked in first and hopped onto the bed, turning to face her father, “Hey, Dad, will y-” He was sat down in the floor, knees up to his chest, shoulders shaking from what Ana assumed to be him sobbing. “D.. Dad? Dad, what ha- You were fine just a second ago!” Ana shot back up to run over to her father. She’s only seen him like this a couple times, but it wasn’t this bad. “W-what-” “I-I’m fine, Ana, I-I’m.. I’m f-fine!” Percy managed to choke, forcing himself to smile. Ana wasn’t stupid, though - she could easily see through it. Her dad was never that good at hiding it. Not to her, at least. Plus, he still had tears going down his face - kinda hard to fake happiness when you’re sobbing like that. “I wanna help, Dad.” “Ana, n-no, you can’t-” “Is it cause today’s just been awful? I mean, I’d totally agree. Graham was being mean, and then Mr. Kalfox was a dick, then-” Percy snorted, his sobbing turning into a little fit of giggles before he said, his voice still husky, “You c-can’t say that, Ana.” “Well he is. Graham’s a dick, Ingram’s a dick - a lot of people here are all dicks!” “Ana!” Percy had a genuine smile on his face now, but he had a little bit of that look he’d get whenever she was pushing her luck. Ana laughed with her father for a minute before sitting down with him. “Are you done being sad yet?” she asked, looking up at her dad’s face. The pilot sighed, “Sorta? I dunno…” Percy wiped his face, inhaling shakily before he continued, “I told you not to worry about me.” “How can I not worry when you’re fine one minute, and then all sad n’ stuff the next?” “It’s adult stuff, Ana. You don’t need to-” “-Is everything you worry about just over my head or something?” Ana didn’t really mean to be getting irritable - especially with her dad - but that excuse was starting to get really stupid and waaayy over-used. “You’re always saying that, and you're also always saying that,” she put on a much deeper voice, meant to impersonate her father, “‘oh Ana you’re so smart’ and ‘oh you’re so mature for your age’ and ‘bla bla bla bla’,” “I don’t sound like that,” Percy commented. “Whatever,” Ana mumbled before continuing, “I mean, I wanna know. I wanna help. You help me all the time-” “-because it’s-” “-It’s the adult’s job, I knooowww!” Ana was exasperated at this point. Are dads always so difficult?! “But I wanna help, Dad. I don’t like seeing you all upset and sad and stuff. It makes me sad and upset.. and stuff.” Percy actually stayed quiet for a minute, adjusting how he was sitting so he wasn’t in such an uncomfortable position on the floor. Did she actually convince him to tell her? Or was he thinking about it? If it was either one that’d be great! “Ana, I.. I don’t think you need to worry about all the stuff I do. Alright? I-it’s not healthy. I don’t want you to be like me. You’re so much like your mother, a-and-” “So it’s about Mom?” Ana could see Percy bite the inside of his lip. “Well?” “I don’t want you to be like me, Ana. I don’t want you to be scared. I don’t want you to feel inadequate-” “Inade-what?” “I don’t want you to feel like you’re a failure,” Percy reiterated, “I don’t want you to be like me, or feel like I do. Ever. I want you to be like you, Ana. You’re great. You’re such a good person. You’re beautiful, you’re outgoing, you’re funny, you’re smart, you’re brave, you’re-” “So are you,” Ana countered, “You’re pretty and outgoing and funny and smart and brave too! How else would I be all those things?” The two shared a long look at each other for a moment. It almost felt a little too long, really. Ana thought she might've said something wrong, but before she could try to fix whatever she thought was wrong, Percy pulled her close and hugged her tight. Ana could feel him starting to cry again. "D-Dad, wait, I-" “I love you, Ana. I love you so much.” Ana made herself more comfortable in her father’s embrace before she replied, “I love you too, Dad.”	Percy J. Moore Age: 32 Role: > Support Appearance: He's a pretty average looking guy. He's about 5 ft 8in, 167 lbs. He has red hair and freckles all over his body, suggesting he's at least a little Irish. At least a little. Even though everything else about him seems warm and inviting, his eyes are a cool gray blue. Some people have told him he looks a little girly, but his stubble shows otherwise. He also has a little bit of a nose on him. Normally, he'd wear a blue jean jacket with a faux fur collar with a dark sandy brown turtleneck underneath, light jeans with dark long-johns underneath, and some worn but sturdy leather-y hiking boots (with socks, of course). He also has a set of more intimidating black steel toed boots, but he doesn't wear those very often. He also has two silver rings on his left hand. One is his wedding ring, the other is his wife's. The glasses shown in the picture are merely for reading. (I just couldn't keep the glasses-wearing Percy to myself tho like look at him) Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) He's got one or two screws a little bit loose.. He's paranoid, temperamental, overprotective and has a very hard time relaxing. Under all that he's really just scared. He's scared for his daughter and himself. He doesn't want his girl to end up like her mother - dead - or him - an emotional mess that's barely got his shit together. If you can get through the barrier to the guy underneath it, you've got yourself a friend that's gonna have your back 99% of the time. Backstory: He was living an average life that was as comfortable as it can be in a wasteland with his mother and father in Smith's Rest.. maybe even a little bit sheltered. After moving out of the house so he can have some time to really figure out who he was as a person, his parents died shortly after because of a disease that was spreading across the settlement. A few years after that, and after a few romps with some other people, he met a lovely woman that was just a year older than him - Laura. Laura was, in his eyes, very pretty, very intelligent, and very much the yin to his yang. They just clicked. They had a child out of wedlock, but they married after their little girl, Ana, was born. A few months later, as they were finally settled into parenthood and Percy thought that maybe everything's alright, Laura was killed in an accident in her workplace. Percy had to tackle parenthood alone. He did awfully at first - Laura was a much better parent than he was at that point in time - but he gradually got better. Ana grew up to be a bright eyed little girl. He took the job because he was in need of the huge sum of money promised. He thought he could just get in, get out, be over with it.. It'd be easy! He was so, so wrong - he figured that one out after the surgery to get his plug.. That's what he gets for not reading the fine print. After dealing with a surprise attack on Smith's Rest, he's gotten meaner and a little less forgiving. Then, after the events of the Navy attack, his NC was damaged to the point it locked up, was able to be toppled, and the right side of his body was mangled pretty badly - so badly in fact, on top of breaking his leg, he lost his hand. His face was luckily kept in tact. He's back into what Sophia called the unfair game with much hesitance.. he prays he doesn't lose any more body parts. Tactical Preference & Skills: > He'd rather stay away from bloodshed if he can, but if he can't, sticking close to the team would be his second choice. He has a very strong desire to protect those around him, even if they're in huge mechas, making him an adequate support. > If he was to do a solo mission and the only person he has to worry about is himself (and he's confident that he'll be fine), he would find no issues with getting his metal hands dirty. Or oily, I guess. Notes: > He hates getting drunk - not because of what it does to him, but because his hangovers are awful > He has pistol that's been passed down for generations upon generations. It's technically obsolete, but he's very good at using it. > He also has a pocket knife that was a sort of "parting gift" from Sophia (the former commander). > He has a prosthetic hand now. He both hates it and kind of totally loves it. > His sync rate is around 75-90%, depending on his mental state. Text Color: LightSteelBlue, or b0c4de Codename: Papa Mike Appearance:: Looks clunkier and heavier than it really is. Basic metallic black paint with white accents. Has a couple dings here and there, but it's not affecting anything major. Older model modified to meet standards of the present, really. Body & Type: > Bipedal > Originally designed to be semi-proficient at most tasks. Has been modified to be faster and more powerful than the original. Equipment: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > Slightly damaged stock neural computer - a bug in the computer is that it calls Percy "Micheal" instead of "Percy." Percy has tried to fix it but is afraid he'll break something else. He's not a coder for fuck's sake. > Above-average thrusters specifically designed for short bursts of speed > Slightly above average generator Armaments: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > VEKW-01.65 (New-Anchorage Custom - 35 rounds, mid-to-long-range) > PPB-2.71 (New-Anchorage Custom - melee (laser sword), standard white in color) Small Standard Fairbanks-Model missile launcher on the back (3 missile burst, long-range) random tidbits (will be added to as I think of things) > Before the NC was Percy's, it belonged to a guy named Michael who was actually an assault/support for his squad.. hence the computer calling him "Michael" :P Ana L. Moore The redhead is Ana. The ushanka girl is Vera Age: 8 Appearance: She's just past the average height of girls her age, being 4ft 2in, but she's underweight at 50 lbs. She shares many of her father's physical traits, just softened (especially her nose). She also has his red hair and freckles - her freckles are more in her face, however. Her eyes are a very lovely shade of green. She's usually wearing a pink and white striped sweater that's beaten up from being worn so often, some dark pants that are equally as beat up, and some shoes that are so worn it's probably time for new ones. She has what she would call "a dumb monkey hat with stupid looking gloves that match" that she really would prefer not to wear (she's eight, not FIVE), but her father makes her wear it sometimes when it's colder than usual. Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) Despite all that's happened, she's still very optimistic and caring. She's got a will made of titanium and she's braver than she realizes she is - even braver than her father, who she feels is the bravest person in the whole world. She's a little bit like her father in the sense that she also has a touch of a temper as well... maybe not a touch. Backstory: She was born to Laura and Percy. She never knew her mother, because she died when she was little. When the surprise attack in Smith's Rest happened, she was almost taken away for who knows what purpose. Almost. She was saved, but her perceptions of the world changed pretty drastically. She didn't know just how scary the world was till then. She's slowly learning to deal with the nightmares, but she probably won't like confined spaces very much. Notes: > She stole a box of crayons from the school once. She still has that box of crayons. > She absolutely loves dogs. Puppies are awesome. > She is very much capable of taking care of herself.. for the most part. > She's a bit clumsy - she has a very tiny, almost unnoticeable scar on her nose, between her eyes. she walked into a door frame when she was little. > Birthday is August 7th. Text Color: Violet or ee82ee
56,114	1,536	80	923	5,303	End of Day 1 TIMESKIP Start of Day 9	NPC DOSSIERS \| NEW ANCHORAGE NPCs \| Commander Michael Graham Commanding Officer & Operations Director “I don’t believe in children’s fantasies of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, I believe in the absolute principle of order— a concept that promotes excellence, professionalism, integrity, organization, and heart. Order doesn’t allow fantasy, order allows you to be happy with your reality.” Name Michael A. Graham Appearance Commander Graham is a man that looks a decade younger than he appears, which is a bit of an oddity in his profession. Standing at six foot even and a rigorously sculpted physique Graham has proven that age is not a factor in the efforts of a professional soldier. Accompanied by dark blue-black hair that is drawn to mid-length and faded brown eyes, Graham despite the intensity he invokes is not abrasive to look at which in the past he had used to his advantage to get the wits on several enemies including rough-edged females of the criminal element. Graham has few preferences for attire— a uniform when it is available, or a loose synthweave jacket and military-fitted clothing for alternative “casual” situations. Age Forty-Three Role Operations Director Personality Claiming to have no place for childish fantasies of morality, Michael Graham serves to believe strictly in the concept of order as in his eyes it is the only answer to life. As a military commander Graham has been called ruthless, strict, abrasive, absolutist, and demanding— all of which are, in part, true to his character. Caring not for how people see him, Graham prescribes to a militarized belief of organization, rigorous expectation, and self-fulfillment through commitment. However, he is not so simply defined as a military drone given he has explored the world with a bit of a wanderlust that harkens back to his days as an aggressive and unruly NC pilot youth. Graham’s nuances and depth will be truly hard to uncover, though, as it seems as he isn’t privy to sharing. Backstory Michael Aldous Graham was born in the mega-city known as Las Vegas in 2634 within the jurisdiction of the Denver-Vegas Corporation. As an orphaned child, Graham ████████████████████████████ and was enlisted at age of seven years old and was administered to a military camp for training children. This allowed a form of ███████ to recruits to groom them into the ideal soldier. During a mandatory study of a psychological exam it was discovered that Graham was born with the ability to pilot NC’s. He was then sent off to a NC-specialized variant of the camp to which he met many like-minded children of his age and bonded with many of them. Throughout his time at the camp he was discovered to be one of the top three recruits of 2642. The others being ███████ and ███████. The three would become known as Denver-Vegas’ “Blood Trinity” as they became a force of reckoning. Starting in 2647 at The Skirmish of Andreas Fault. Sent in to deal with Red-Star insurgents that had began to encroach on Denver-Vegas territory beyond their corporate holdings in California, Graham and his comrades were said to “single-handedly” win the skirmish, though records are incomplete as sensor array camera footage has been buried in Denver-Vegas archives. As the dispute between Red-Star and Denver-Vegas continued Graham and his comrades gained prestige as the battles got more destructive and chaotic. By the end of the war the trinity had earned a reputation that would cement itself in legend— a status that would be tested when Graham found himself in a one-on-one skirmish with veteran independent pilot Agatha Smith. Following the Andreas Dispute War, Graham was thrown back into the thick of it not long after when Denver-Vegas declared war on the Volkov Corporation who had “unfairly” acquired Elysian Dream. Seven long years poured into the war and at the end of it the death of ███████ by the hands of a Volkov pilot by the name of ███████. Unsurprisingly, the death was earth-shaking for both Graham and ███████, who began to see that they weren’t as invulnerable as they were led to believe. Following the death of one trinity member Denver-Vegas found their battles going downhill against Volkov’s tactical advances and eventually they sued for peace. Elysian Dream remained in Volkov hands. In the time since the Elysian War, Graham found himself earning several promotions such as first officer, field captain, squadron commander, and operations commander. However, for reasons unknown Graham resigned from Denver-Vegas in 2673, opting to work independently. His record suggests operations collaborating with Fairbanks, Paragon, and smaller independents— never sticking around for long. New Anchorage hopes he will stay on permanently. Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran Military Commander Experienced NC Pilot Adept with Tactical Analysis Expert Marksman CQC Expertise Notes Graham absolutely detests nicknames— he will reprimand those who do not refer to him as commander, sir, or his surname. There has few people who he has tolerated nicknames from in his past and they are no longer part of his life. Graham has two adult children he knows about, aged 21 and 18. He has employed both of them. Dr. Herbert Bonheur Head of Medicine “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. Forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad.” Name Herbert H. Bonheur Appearance TBA Age Forty-Six Role Head of Medicine Personality Bonheur is admittedly rather obtuse given that his way of thinking isn’t exactly easy to understand by others; even fellow doctors. Coupled with a loose, casual demeanor and mannerisms that lead many to believe that the years of caffeine-induced dieting has led him to speak similar that may be a bit too quick for people to generally follow. Some consider Bonheur “insane” whilst others consider him “eccentric” but despite his terrible bedside manner and his abrasively blunt way of dealing with things Bonheur’s methods seems to always work. Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Best Medicial Pracitioner in Alaska Skilled Pharmacist Veteran Surgeon Notes TBA Dr. James Lofgren Head of NC Analysis “With only one minute to spare and you took down an opponent who seemed to have all of the advantages. Fascinating.” Name James M. Lofgren Appearance TBA Age Thirty-One Role NC Analyst Neurosurgeon Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Well-tested NC Analyst Skilled Neurosurgeon Skilled Psychologist & Therapist Notes TBA Valdislav Kuznetsov Head of Engineering “Quote” Name Valdislav S. Kuznetsov Appearance TBA Age Fifty-Five Role Senior Engineering Officer Mechanic Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Notes TBA Matthew Alvarez Operations Administrator “Your complaints are unfounded, I assure you that everything is going according to plan. Sit down.” Name Matthew L. Alvarez Appearance TBA Age Twenty-Six Role Operations Administrator Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Eidetic Memory Veteran Administrative Assistant Skilled Clerk Notes TBA Katarina Poux Engineering Officer “I just wish there was a way these beautiful machines could be used for good and not evil. There is such opportunity for them to be utilized for good.” Name Katarina “Kat” Poux Appearance Katarina is easy on the eyes when she is cleaned up, but due to her constant tweaking of machinery she tends to have a oil and dust-spotted appearance. Her hair is black that is worn long or in a messy ponytail depending on her time management and awareness. Her eyes are a perceptive hazel and her choices of attire are generally engineering jumpsuits and uniforms; rarely does Katarina remember what it was like to wear loose ‘feminine’ type clothing. Katarina is about average height for her ethnicity and age, setting in at around 5’6”. Age Twenty-Five Role Junior Engineering Officer Personality Katarina is upbeat and chirpy despite her “muddy” profession, choosing to be welcoming and optimistic rather than cynical and realistic. Whilst some might consider her an annoyance, her energy and emotions do set a mood amongst the engineering staff that leads to a good morale boost. However, with the shadow of death this disposition can be damaged and inverted; thus revealing a sort of “hot” and “cold” dynamic to her personality. However, Katarina tries very hard to not be downbeat and thinks things forward and not backward; she had done such dwelling on negative emotions when she was younger after all. Backstory The daughter of a NC pilot and a weapons engineer, Kat has been surrounded by big machines with complex machinery her entire life. A background that would bring the young girl to study all things mechanical and electrical which led to an astute understanding of mechs and traditional armored vehicles alike. Around the age of thirteen years old the world revealed itself to be much more harsh than she had been led to believe despite her parents professions being blatantly a product of their warlike environment. This tragedy was the death of her mother, Piana, when her independent NC was overwhelmed in combat. The effects of said death would bring her father to alcoholism and retirement from working on new NC weapon schematics and prototypes. Kat would go on following in the footsteps of who her father was before the accident and became an exceptional mechanic and designer in her own right., though she couldn’t seem to escape stigmas about her or her family wherever she went. By the age of twenty, following her instruction as an engineer she found herself in the employ of one of the big corporations: Fairbanks. Several months ago she quit her position as an aspiring engineer at Fairbanks due to various reasons and found herself in league with New Anchorage. Tactical Preference & Skills Skilled NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Weapons Designer Notes TBA Ingram Kalfox Financial & Intelligence Agent “It is so nice to see the youth looking optimistically towards their future— and the more ruthless of us trying to redeem their path in life. It brings hope for our time.” Name Ingram Kalfox Appearance TBA Age 43-56 Role Operations Economist Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Comprehensive Knowledge of International NC Pilots Skilled Businessman & Economist Notes TBA Rebecca Marek Operations Commander “---” Name Rebecca “Reb” Marek Appearance TBA Age 28-36 Role Military Commander Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Experienced Soldier & Military Commander Veteran Anti-NC Special Operations Unit Talented in Tactical Analysis Skilled in CQC Marksman Notes TBA
56,115	1,536	81	923	5,303	GRAHAMCOMMANDER GRAHAM's OFFICE, NEW ANCHORAGE AFTERNOON It had been nine days since Graham had given his ultimatum to his pilots, and already things were starting to sort out. Though, it wasn’t without issue; he had already lost one pilot due to the way he had set down his rules and expectations, and he expected that Yeshua Horowitz was only going to be the first of them to ask for dismissal. But it did strike him as odd that Yeshua was the first pilot to leave New Anchorage considering his history. Before acquiring the NC known as Anzu, Yeshua had been trained meticulously at a Paragon-owned training facility in the southern German provinces. Much like Stein Kalfox and Alexander Sky, they had been trained with expectations and requirements that were demanded to be met or face consequences— so the fact that him wanting out of Alaska with tail between his legs, no matter how eccentric he was, was definitely odd. Looking into it all morning, Graham couldn’t find out anything that suggested Yeshua had problems with his fellow pilots or New Anchorage’s faculty; the kid just nonsensically decided he didn’t want to be in Alaska and decided to pay the fines that went with him ending his contract prematurely. Before the other pilots had even been awake Yeshua had disappeared and Anzu along with him. But what was done was done— he didn’t need to play detective. He sighed as he looked through the files on his computer; his right hand scrolling through files as his left hand held a cup of cocoa-infused coffee that he brought to his lips. The reports of the first week of NC pilot activities and training was disappointing outside of the progress of his favored pilots who did as he expected them to— Kalfox had no pastimes outside of training, Smith was out to prove she was just as good as the “young blood”, Van Gent oddly worked well under pressure, Styles was as tenacious as she was blunt, and Jackspar was out to show she could rise to the challenge. The rest of the pilots had a variety of concerns due to what they had shown Graham; Moore was a coward who had no teeth, Sky was foolish in his impulses, Maverick was an inquisitive reporter out for a story, Strange was a vivacious cripple, Verona was forced to be here, and Ray had shown him absolutely nothing. Between himself, Marek, and Lofgren they had a lot of work to do to turn them into something worth keeping. Rebecca Marek had been responsible for leading the mandatory physical training which she called “pilot boot camp” for the last week and she had done an excellent job providing reports back to him, which was a pleasant surprise considering how... casual she was when she didn’t have responsibilities; he had heard of her reputation back in Denver-Vegas from her former commander, Kaylin Bruere. He felt at least a little impressed by Marek's efforts and was starting to feel he hired the right woman— if anyone could drive New Anchorage’s pilots into what Graham needed them to be it was her. Graham looked at the clock on his computer. 12:55. The pilots morning drills by Marek were over and they were just now finishing lunch; which went into a period he hadn't assigned yet. Though he was considering marking it to Lofgren in a few days, after he had taken care of putting some more of his money into the simulation pods. The VR was up-to-date, but the pods sure as hell were not. “One step at a time.” He told himself out loud, “What would she tell you right now?” “You’re driving yourself crazy, crackers.” He laughed as he leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he took another drink of coffee.	NPC DOSSIERS \| NEW ANCHORAGE NPCs \| Commander Michael Graham Commanding Officer & Operations Director “I don’t believe in children’s fantasies of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, I believe in the absolute principle of order— a concept that promotes excellence, professionalism, integrity, organization, and heart. Order doesn’t allow fantasy, order allows you to be happy with your reality.” Name Michael A. Graham Appearance Commander Graham is a man that looks a decade younger than he appears, which is a bit of an oddity in his profession. Standing at six foot even and a rigorously sculpted physique Graham has proven that age is not a factor in the efforts of a professional soldier. Accompanied by dark blue-black hair that is drawn to mid-length and faded brown eyes, Graham despite the intensity he invokes is not abrasive to look at which in the past he had used to his advantage to get the wits on several enemies including rough-edged females of the criminal element. Graham has few preferences for attire— a uniform when it is available, or a loose synthweave jacket and military-fitted clothing for alternative “casual” situations. Age Forty-Three Role Operations Director Personality Claiming to have no place for childish fantasies of morality, Michael Graham serves to believe strictly in the concept of order as in his eyes it is the only answer to life. As a military commander Graham has been called ruthless, strict, abrasive, absolutist, and demanding— all of which are, in part, true to his character. Caring not for how people see him, Graham prescribes to a militarized belief of organization, rigorous expectation, and self-fulfillment through commitment. However, he is not so simply defined as a military drone given he has explored the world with a bit of a wanderlust that harkens back to his days as an aggressive and unruly NC pilot youth. Graham’s nuances and depth will be truly hard to uncover, though, as it seems as he isn’t privy to sharing. Backstory Michael Aldous Graham was born in the mega-city known as Las Vegas in 2634 within the jurisdiction of the Denver-Vegas Corporation. As an orphaned child, Graham ████████████████████████████ and was enlisted at age of seven years old and was administered to a military camp for training children. This allowed a form of ███████ to recruits to groom them into the ideal soldier. During a mandatory study of a psychological exam it was discovered that Graham was born with the ability to pilot NC’s. He was then sent off to a NC-specialized variant of the camp to which he met many like-minded children of his age and bonded with many of them. Throughout his time at the camp he was discovered to be one of the top three recruits of 2642. The others being ███████ and ███████. The three would become known as Denver-Vegas’ “Blood Trinity” as they became a force of reckoning. Starting in 2647 at The Skirmish of Andreas Fault. Sent in to deal with Red-Star insurgents that had began to encroach on Denver-Vegas territory beyond their corporate holdings in California, Graham and his comrades were said to “single-handedly” win the skirmish, though records are incomplete as sensor array camera footage has been buried in Denver-Vegas archives. As the dispute between Red-Star and Denver-Vegas continued Graham and his comrades gained prestige as the battles got more destructive and chaotic. By the end of the war the trinity had earned a reputation that would cement itself in legend— a status that would be tested when Graham found himself in a one-on-one skirmish with veteran independent pilot Agatha Smith. Following the Andreas Dispute War, Graham was thrown back into the thick of it not long after when Denver-Vegas declared war on the Volkov Corporation who had “unfairly” acquired Elysian Dream. Seven long years poured into the war and at the end of it the death of ███████ by the hands of a Volkov pilot by the name of ███████. Unsurprisingly, the death was earth-shaking for both Graham and ███████, who began to see that they weren’t as invulnerable as they were led to believe. Following the death of one trinity member Denver-Vegas found their battles going downhill against Volkov’s tactical advances and eventually they sued for peace. Elysian Dream remained in Volkov hands. In the time since the Elysian War, Graham found himself earning several promotions such as first officer, field captain, squadron commander, and operations commander. However, for reasons unknown Graham resigned from Denver-Vegas in 2673, opting to work independently. His record suggests operations collaborating with Fairbanks, Paragon, and smaller independents— never sticking around for long. New Anchorage hopes he will stay on permanently. Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran Military Commander Experienced NC Pilot Adept with Tactical Analysis Expert Marksman CQC Expertise Notes Graham absolutely detests nicknames— he will reprimand those who do not refer to him as commander, sir, or his surname. There has few people who he has tolerated nicknames from in his past and they are no longer part of his life. Graham has two adult children he knows about, aged 21 and 18. He has employed both of them. Dr. Herbert Bonheur Head of Medicine “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. Forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad.” Name Herbert H. Bonheur Appearance TBA Age Forty-Six Role Head of Medicine Personality Bonheur is admittedly rather obtuse given that his way of thinking isn’t exactly easy to understand by others; even fellow doctors. Coupled with a loose, casual demeanor and mannerisms that lead many to believe that the years of caffeine-induced dieting has led him to speak similar that may be a bit too quick for people to generally follow. Some consider Bonheur “insane” whilst others consider him “eccentric” but despite his terrible bedside manner and his abrasively blunt way of dealing with things Bonheur’s methods seems to always work. Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Best Medicial Pracitioner in Alaska Skilled Pharmacist Veteran Surgeon Notes TBA Dr. James Lofgren Head of NC Analysis “With only one minute to spare and you took down an opponent who seemed to have all of the advantages. Fascinating.” Name James M. Lofgren Appearance TBA Age Thirty-One Role NC Analyst Neurosurgeon Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Well-tested NC Analyst Skilled Neurosurgeon Skilled Psychologist & Therapist Notes TBA Valdislav Kuznetsov Head of Engineering “Quote” Name Valdislav S. Kuznetsov Appearance TBA Age Fifty-Five Role Senior Engineering Officer Mechanic Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Notes TBA Matthew Alvarez Operations Administrator “Your complaints are unfounded, I assure you that everything is going according to plan. Sit down.” Name Matthew L. Alvarez Appearance TBA Age Twenty-Six Role Operations Administrator Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Eidetic Memory Veteran Administrative Assistant Skilled Clerk Notes TBA Katarina Poux Engineering Officer “I just wish there was a way these beautiful machines could be used for good and not evil. There is such opportunity for them to be utilized for good.” Name Katarina “Kat” Poux Appearance Katarina is easy on the eyes when she is cleaned up, but due to her constant tweaking of machinery she tends to have a oil and dust-spotted appearance. Her hair is black that is worn long or in a messy ponytail depending on her time management and awareness. Her eyes are a perceptive hazel and her choices of attire are generally engineering jumpsuits and uniforms; rarely does Katarina remember what it was like to wear loose ‘feminine’ type clothing. Katarina is about average height for her ethnicity and age, setting in at around 5’6”. Age Twenty-Five Role Junior Engineering Officer Personality Katarina is upbeat and chirpy despite her “muddy” profession, choosing to be welcoming and optimistic rather than cynical and realistic. Whilst some might consider her an annoyance, her energy and emotions do set a mood amongst the engineering staff that leads to a good morale boost. However, with the shadow of death this disposition can be damaged and inverted; thus revealing a sort of “hot” and “cold” dynamic to her personality. However, Katarina tries very hard to not be downbeat and thinks things forward and not backward; she had done such dwelling on negative emotions when she was younger after all. Backstory The daughter of a NC pilot and a weapons engineer, Kat has been surrounded by big machines with complex machinery her entire life. A background that would bring the young girl to study all things mechanical and electrical which led to an astute understanding of mechs and traditional armored vehicles alike. Around the age of thirteen years old the world revealed itself to be much more harsh than she had been led to believe despite her parents professions being blatantly a product of their warlike environment. This tragedy was the death of her mother, Piana, when her independent NC was overwhelmed in combat. The effects of said death would bring her father to alcoholism and retirement from working on new NC weapon schematics and prototypes. Kat would go on following in the footsteps of who her father was before the accident and became an exceptional mechanic and designer in her own right., though she couldn’t seem to escape stigmas about her or her family wherever she went. By the age of twenty, following her instruction as an engineer she found herself in the employ of one of the big corporations: Fairbanks. Several months ago she quit her position as an aspiring engineer at Fairbanks due to various reasons and found herself in league with New Anchorage. Tactical Preference & Skills Skilled NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Weapons Designer Notes TBA Ingram Kalfox Financial & Intelligence Agent “It is so nice to see the youth looking optimistically towards their future— and the more ruthless of us trying to redeem their path in life. It brings hope for our time.” Name Ingram Kalfox Appearance TBA Age 43-56 Role Operations Economist Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Comprehensive Knowledge of International NC Pilots Skilled Businessman & Economist Notes TBA Rebecca Marek Operations Commander “---” Name Rebecca “Reb” Marek Appearance TBA Age 28-36 Role Military Commander Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Experienced Soldier & Military Commander Veteran Anti-NC Special Operations Unit Talented in Tactical Analysis Skilled in CQC Marksman Notes TBA
56,116	1,536	82	1,318	425	PERCYMESS HALL, NEW ANCHORAGE This isn’t awful. Percy thought for probably the umpteenth time that week as he sat, wincing slightly. Sure, his legs hurt and it felt like his arms were wet noodles, but he had to admit that the dopamine running through his body sure felt nice. Having Ana kind of gave him the excuse to let himself go for eight years. He wasn’t obese or completely unable to do a damn thing, of course, but Rebecca said it herself - he was kinda fat. He told himself that he didn’t give a damn, but he was lying to himself. That first day of training, he was so aware of how his body looked, it was hard to focus on actually following directions. When he used to keep in better shape, he always did it alone - exercising in a group was totally foreign and awful at first. The days following were much easier though, with much thanks to both Rebecca and Jingo’s assurance that nobody gave a shit.. It was nice to feel like he was getting somewhere, honestly. He was still hesitant about the all the tests - especially the ultimatum - but he had, give-or-take, twenty days to do it and he was confident he could manage. Mostly. He could always completely fail and have his daughter get taken away and forced to become a pilot. I just had to go there, didn’t I? Percy covered his face with his hands, letting out a breath. He lowered his hands slightly to look at his daughter, who was eating and was totally unaware of his inner monologue. Their eyes met for a moment and she smiled at him before going right back into eating. He wouldn’t let himself fail - not because his job would be in jeopardy, or because some higher-up told him to, but because he wasn’t going to let his baby girl get forced into doing the same shit. He’s not a coward. He’s not completely clueless or stupid. He’s smart. How else would his daughter be so smart? She was too smart to sign off her life to being a soldier. There were so many other, safer, less awful things she could be. She could be a doctor, or a teacher, a scientist - something better. She deserved better. “Dad!” Percy jumped when Ana spoke up. “You’re like.. staring at me. Is something in my teeth?” she bared her teeth so he father could look. Percy actually checked before responding, “No, I’m just.. I’m thinking, hon. Didn’t mean to stare.” the pilot smiled, and Ana smiled back, devouring the last few forkfuls of food on her tray. “Me ‘n Vera are gonna go do something,” Ana said as she stacked Percy’s tray on top of hers and lead the way to the rack of used trays on the countertop. “Oh?” Percy had a gut feeling that they were going to get into trouble. “Yeah, it- It’s nothing bad. It’s just.. A thing,” Ana was on tip-toe, trying to get the trays in an empty slot - Percy took them just as she almost had it to do it for her. “What kinda thing?” “J-just a thing,” Ana tried to explain, very obviously avoiding the question. She grinned the way that all parents knew meant trouble. Percy’s pleasant voice took on a more serious tone, “Ana.” “Dad, it-it’s, just..” Ana looked around like she was afraid of getting heard - or maybe trying to find someone. Percy couldn’t really tell. He did know it was kinda cute, though. “It’s secret. It’s like… It’s a girls only thing! No boys allowed!” The little girl grinned, but she looked more like she was being interrogated and lying than giddy about some girls-only club. Percy let it go, though. It was more than likely nothing bad. He sighed, then ruffled up his girl’s hair. “Have fun, then - don't get into any trouble.”	Percy J. Moore Age: 32 Role: > Support Appearance: He's a pretty average looking guy. He's about 5 ft 8in, 167 lbs. He has red hair and freckles all over his body, suggesting he's at least a little Irish. At least a little. Even though everything else about him seems warm and inviting, his eyes are a cool gray blue. Some people have told him he looks a little girly, but his stubble shows otherwise. He also has a little bit of a nose on him. Normally, he'd wear a blue jean jacket with a faux fur collar with a dark sandy brown turtleneck underneath, light jeans with dark long-johns underneath, and some worn but sturdy leather-y hiking boots (with socks, of course). He also has a set of more intimidating black steel toed boots, but he doesn't wear those very often. He also has two silver rings on his left hand. One is his wedding ring, the other is his wife's. The glasses shown in the picture are merely for reading. (I just couldn't keep the glasses-wearing Percy to myself tho like look at him) Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) He's got one or two screws a little bit loose.. He's paranoid, temperamental, overprotective and has a very hard time relaxing. Under all that he's really just scared. He's scared for his daughter and himself. He doesn't want his girl to end up like her mother - dead - or him - an emotional mess that's barely got his shit together. If you can get through the barrier to the guy underneath it, you've got yourself a friend that's gonna have your back 99% of the time. Backstory: He was living an average life that was as comfortable as it can be in a wasteland with his mother and father in Smith's Rest.. maybe even a little bit sheltered. After moving out of the house so he can have some time to really figure out who he was as a person, his parents died shortly after because of a disease that was spreading across the settlement. A few years after that, and after a few romps with some other people, he met a lovely woman that was just a year older than him - Laura. Laura was, in his eyes, very pretty, very intelligent, and very much the yin to his yang. They just clicked. They had a child out of wedlock, but they married after their little girl, Ana, was born. A few months later, as they were finally settled into parenthood and Percy thought that maybe everything's alright, Laura was killed in an accident in her workplace. Percy had to tackle parenthood alone. He did awfully at first - Laura was a much better parent than he was at that point in time - but he gradually got better. Ana grew up to be a bright eyed little girl. He took the job because he was in need of the huge sum of money promised. He thought he could just get in, get out, be over with it.. It'd be easy! He was so, so wrong - he figured that one out after the surgery to get his plug.. That's what he gets for not reading the fine print. After dealing with a surprise attack on Smith's Rest, he's gotten meaner and a little less forgiving. Then, after the events of the Navy attack, his NC was damaged to the point it locked up, was able to be toppled, and the right side of his body was mangled pretty badly - so badly in fact, on top of breaking his leg, he lost his hand. His face was luckily kept in tact. He's back into what Sophia called the unfair game with much hesitance.. he prays he doesn't lose any more body parts. Tactical Preference & Skills: > He'd rather stay away from bloodshed if he can, but if he can't, sticking close to the team would be his second choice. He has a very strong desire to protect those around him, even if they're in huge mechas, making him an adequate support. > If he was to do a solo mission and the only person he has to worry about is himself (and he's confident that he'll be fine), he would find no issues with getting his metal hands dirty. Or oily, I guess. Notes: > He hates getting drunk - not because of what it does to him, but because his hangovers are awful > He has pistol that's been passed down for generations upon generations. It's technically obsolete, but he's very good at using it. > He also has a pocket knife that was a sort of "parting gift" from Sophia (the former commander). > He has a prosthetic hand now. He both hates it and kind of totally loves it. > His sync rate is around 75-90%, depending on his mental state. Text Color: LightSteelBlue, or b0c4de Codename: Papa Mike Appearance:: Looks clunkier and heavier than it really is. Basic metallic black paint with white accents. Has a couple dings here and there, but it's not affecting anything major. Older model modified to meet standards of the present, really. Body & Type: > Bipedal > Originally designed to be semi-proficient at most tasks. Has been modified to be faster and more powerful than the original. Equipment: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > Slightly damaged stock neural computer - a bug in the computer is that it calls Percy "Micheal" instead of "Percy." Percy has tried to fix it but is afraid he'll break something else. He's not a coder for fuck's sake. > Above-average thrusters specifically designed for short bursts of speed > Slightly above average generator Armaments: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > VEKW-01.65 (New-Anchorage Custom - 35 rounds, mid-to-long-range) > PPB-2.71 (New-Anchorage Custom - melee (laser sword), standard white in color) Small Standard Fairbanks-Model missile launcher on the back (3 missile burst, long-range) random tidbits (will be added to as I think of things) > Before the NC was Percy's, it belonged to a guy named Michael who was actually an assault/support for his squad.. hence the computer calling him "Michael" :P Ana L. Moore The redhead is Ana. The ushanka girl is Vera Age: 8 Appearance: She's just past the average height of girls her age, being 4ft 2in, but she's underweight at 50 lbs. She shares many of her father's physical traits, just softened (especially her nose). She also has his red hair and freckles - her freckles are more in her face, however. Her eyes are a very lovely shade of green. She's usually wearing a pink and white striped sweater that's beaten up from being worn so often, some dark pants that are equally as beat up, and some shoes that are so worn it's probably time for new ones. She has what she would call "a dumb monkey hat with stupid looking gloves that match" that she really would prefer not to wear (she's eight, not FIVE), but her father makes her wear it sometimes when it's colder than usual. Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) Despite all that's happened, she's still very optimistic and caring. She's got a will made of titanium and she's braver than she realizes she is - even braver than her father, who she feels is the bravest person in the whole world. She's a little bit like her father in the sense that she also has a touch of a temper as well... maybe not a touch. Backstory: She was born to Laura and Percy. She never knew her mother, because she died when she was little. When the surprise attack in Smith's Rest happened, she was almost taken away for who knows what purpose. Almost. She was saved, but her perceptions of the world changed pretty drastically. She didn't know just how scary the world was till then. She's slowly learning to deal with the nightmares, but she probably won't like confined spaces very much. Notes: > She stole a box of crayons from the school once. She still has that box of crayons. > She absolutely loves dogs. Puppies are awesome. > She is very much capable of taking care of herself.. for the most part. > She's a bit clumsy - she has a very tiny, almost unnoticeable scar on her nose, between her eyes. she walked into a door frame when she was little. > Birthday is August 7th. Text Color: Violet or ee82ee
56,117	1,536	83	1,524	552	ANA and VERA MESS HALL/SIMULATION LABS “Have fun, then - don't get into any trouble.” Vera could see Ana nod, then run over to her, a much more genuine grin on her face, “I did it!” Ana squeaked, “I did the lie. It was really hard, but I did it.” the redhead beamed - this really wasn’t something to be grinning about, but if what Ana had told her previously was true, it was an accomplishment; a really messed up one, but an accomplishment nonetheless. In the back of her mind, Vera felt bad, guilty even, and doubly so because she’d told thereabouts the same lie to Lizzy not long before. But she repeated the same thing she’d been telling herself since they’d met with Graham, it was necessary. They had more than themselves to worry about as it stood, she didn’t want either Percy or Lizzy getting into trouble if they were afraid. ”Knew ya could,” Vera managed to smile back, but truth be told she was glad to turn her back for a few moments heading out of the Mess Hall, at least to vent a frown before smiling again. She couldn’t stay upset for long, after all she was excited, which would make comforting Ana much easier if she had to. ”So y’ready?” she asked on the way. ”Yeah, I think so.” Ana replied with a little nod as she jogged up to take Vera’s hand - a habit of hers now. Vera led them on to the labs. She’d only been once or twice to watch Lizzy train, or at least to be around while it was going on. She knew the way still, the facility was becoming clearer and clearer by the day, and before long the two of them had arrived. ”Hello?” she called in, looking to Ana before grinning and standing up stiff and straight. ”Operatives Moore and Voloshyna reporting for testing.” Ana mimicked her friend, standing at attention, glancing over at Vera with a grin on her face. There was a slight chuckle from behind the monitor of the desk, as the appearance of the blue-haired scientist became apparent as the computer chair slid to the left to look over the two girls who had entered the simulation labs. “Operatives? Heh, that’s adorable. You two must be here for the examination that Graham wanted you to take… nine days ago. You’re late.” Ana’s grin immediately faded and she looked highly embarrassed - she looked down at the floor, her cheeks flushed red. “Sorry, miss.” ”He didn’t say we had to be here sooner. Besides, you can’t rush greatness right?” she said, bumping Ana’s side to smile at her. The redhead girl smiled back, still looking rather embarrassed. “He did not. I was told to expect you when you were “ready”. I did not realize ready meant waiting around for “greatness”. But I expected better from Jackspar’s ward.” Lofgren adjusted her glasses after moving a strand of blue hair from her face. The labcoat-bearing woman stood up, “But yes, I suppose we should begin. Follow me.” The two children followed Lofgren into what seemed to be a separate room from the main simulation lab’s hub of servers, desks, and pods— this one feeling barren in comparison with only one bed and computer equipment aside from the stream of wires that went into what seemed to be a metal band that rested on one of the only desks in the room. It looked less like a laboratory and more like the room a person would be taken to during a medical visit. Vera couldn’t help but feel a bit unsettled by it. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but there’d been more to it in her imagination. Perhaps it was a good thing, but she didn’t spare it much thought. Honestly she was more focused on restraining herself from snapping at the older woman for her little remark. Making a bad impression with a facility doctor didn’t seem like a smart idea. “This is the room we will be testing you in. Originally it was empty, but we’ve since repurposed it to be a small addition to the simulation & analysis labs. I would prefer more rooms but we don’t exactly have an influx of people to test for NC compatibility.” ”Are we going together, or one at a time?” Vera asked. “One at a time. There is only one bed; the laboratory’s budget went mostly into the VR room.” She prepared to set up the equipment as she continued talking to Vera. “Which one of you is first?” Vera turned to Ana, sure to squeeze the younger girl’s hand tight. She kept the warm smile on her face, and nodded to the bed. ”You wanna go, or do you want me to?” ”Rock paper scissors? Loser does it first?” Ana waved her free hand slightly, looking more nervous than she had before. Either she had caught on to Vera’s anxiousness, or the room creeped her out just as much as it did Vera. ”Rock paper scissors,” Vera agreed. She brought up her free hand, shook it three times. Ana threw down scissors. Vera’s hand was flat. Ana looked like she regretted suggesting the game in that moment. “Sorry,” she mumbled. ”Psh, sorry? Don’t worry, alright? This’ll be easy as cake,” Vera said, taking the ushanka from her head and plopping it on Ana’s. ”Hold that for me will ya?” Ana nodded, tugging on the flaps of the hat so it’s more firmly on her head, smiling at the blonde Russian girl. “Kay.” Vera whirled back around to Lofgren, shaking her hair down and pulling herself up onto the bed. ”Alright doc, hit me with your best shot.” she said, shooting Ana a wink. “I assure you that you girls are overdramatizing this whole examination. I do not know why you think it is as you believe.” Lofgren smirked as she shook her head, wiping her gloved hands with a light pink liquid before approaching Vera as she took seat on the retractable bed. ”Better safe than sorry?” Vera said, instinctively wincing when Lofgren spread the gel over her temples. It didn’t hurt, didn’t burn, it was a little cold and felt a bit like old shampoo, but that was about it. Still, she stuck out her tongue, giggling to Ana. Lofgren chuckled before attaching the neural nodes and then the metal band that served as brace around Vera’s entire head— though it was too big, but with a flick of a button from Lofgren’s datatool it detracted to fit her skull’s size and shape comfortably. “Now all you have to do is wait. It will be a few minutes.” Lofgren stated as she tossed her latex gloves in a trash dispenser before returning to the computer that monitored the equipment that was running the examination. ”That’s it?” Vera asked, though she was still looking at Ana. The redhead girl stuck her tongue out for a moment in retaliation, taking off the hat to look inside. “No, we’re going to have to remove all of your hair.” Vera nearly bit her tongue off. ”Huh?” “Oh, yeah. All of it. Gone. Goodbye hair. Auf Wiedersehen.” “My dad’s gonna kill me!” Ana squeaked, tugging the ushanka back onto her head, hard. “If I was actually serious, maybe he would.” Lofgren ended her comment with a broken giggle as she shook her head, her smirk wide and apparent as she continued to observe the readings on the machine. Vera blinked, and didn’t even attempt to restrain laughing. And here she’d been worried none of the people who worked at the facility would have a sense of humor. “While that is processing we can move on to your friend now. Unless you really do want me to cut off your hair.” Lofgren teased before turning back to the bed; drawing out another pair of latex gloves and removing the metal band from Vera’s head. Hopping down from the table, Vera nodded to Ana. ”What’d I tell ya? Easy as cake, go on.” Ana hesitated for a moment before Vera urged her again, then she got up on to the bed. She looked at Dr. Lofgren and smiled shyly as the blue-haired doctor did the same thing she did to Vera. In a few minutes Lofgren removed the band from Ana’s head like she had done with Vera only moments prior, and told the two to wait a few minutes for the machine to “process” the information it needed to do. Ana tossed Vera her ushanka back, making sure it was easily catchable so it didn’t land in the floor. “I thought it’d be way worse.” ”Right? Guess we were all worried for nothin’ huh?” Vera said, fixing the ushanka back on her head. Ana nodded, smiling at her friend, and Vera was quick to come over and tussle up her hair. ”And say an extra thanks we got to keep all this. Can you imagine us bald?” ““Results seem to be in.” Lofgren’s response seemed to catch both of the two off guard, cutting an end to their banter or at least for the time being. Vera’s eyes lit up, and she felt her stomach go light in anticipation. For a moment she forgot that she wasn’t supposed to appear excited, but couldn’t help it. She found herself reaching for Ana’s hand again. Ana squeezed it in response. “Huh. I suppose that isn’t strange considering both of your genetic records.” Lofgren muttered, barely audible before speaking up with a more clear voice as she turned to the two girls. “Both read as positive.” Vera bit her lip to keep her face straight, but she could feel her heart happily skip a beat. Then just as quickly she remembered she wasn’t alone, and looked down at Ana. ”Positive, huh?” Lofgren nodded, “Indeed. Apparently, you are both compatible to pilot NC’s. Though if you decide to go through with the surgery that comes with the process of becoming a pilot is a completely different department than mine and you’d have to talk with Commander Graham and Dr. Tanaka about the details. My job is simply the process of brain functions, NC analysis, and simulation management. If either of you decide to do it I look forward to putting you in fun simulations.” Ana didn’t look nearly as thrilled as Vera was. She looked more like someone just told her that her dog died, but she tried to smile anyway. Vera noticed the subtle way her brows furrowed - the same way they do when she’s overthinking something. A very unenthused “Yay.” was all Ana responded with. ”Well that’s that,” Vera said, her tone turning cheery. She hoped Ana would latch on to what Lofgren and Graham had said. It was her choice, she’d never have to step foot in another test like this again if she didn’t want to, whatever made her feel safe. She started for the exit and waited for Ana,, nodding back to Lofgren. ”Thanks doc, we’ll uh...we’ll keep it in mind!” And Vera intended to. In fact, she already had her next step planned. “...and Voloshyna? Make sure Jackspar doesn’t push herself too hard, I’m worried that she’s going to do more damage to herself than she realizes if she keeps coming into the sims how she has. You should… talk to her. If she doesn’t slow down and look at things from a less headstrong position she’s going to hurt herself, or worse.” Lofgren’s tone was oddly sympathetic as Vera made for the door— as if behind the science-y mannerisms and deadpan humor there was something else there.	Elizabeth Jackspar Age 21 Role Melee Skirmisher Appearance A life dedicated to training has left Eli with a lean, athletic form. An albino, her skin is chalk-white, her long hair a similar color, and her eyes holding a glassy-blue hue. She has a hard gaze and straight posture, like a soldier constantly at attention. Despite this, she’s prone to wearing civilian clothes when things are quiet. Scarves strike her fancy, and she’ll often wear them high on her neck over her mouth, but she’s also prone to gloves and arm warmers. Personality Cold and dismissive to anyone that isn’t her superior, compliant and dutiful to all others with an underlying layer of competitiveness beneath everything. A quick, calculating mind and fast reflexes make Eli a good soldier, but little else unfortunately. In her early teenage years, Eli began suffering from severe and sudden panic attacks, often leaving her an unresponsive wreck. Not knowing how such incidents would affect her daughter's future, her mother went to great lengths to keep the affliction a secret from future potential employers. After a handful of years the attacks decreased in both frequency and intensity without professional assistance, which made concealing them much easier. Tactical Preference/Skills Eli excels in melee combat, preferring swords to firearms and speed to durability. While her specialty is quick execution, she can handle prolonged confrontations, especially against a single opponent. Background ”Eli” Eli was eight years old when she learned her name was short for “Elizabeth”. Her mother, the librarian recluse Celina Jackspar, had used it once, the first time she’d cried during her training. ”Get up, Elizabeth. Now. And never cry in front of me again.” And she never did. The Jackspars might have been lepers for how little they interacted with the world. Confined to a modestly sized library nestled in the corner of what was then “Smith’s Rest”, few ever visited, and fewer were actually aware the spindly, aged woman had a child. With little to their name aside from cases and piles of books, it would not have been unreasonable to assume the family would contribute nothing great to the world. Celina would not allow such an outcome. The training began early, and never slackened. Eli learned from a young age what she was, and would be. She did not attend school, she did not socialize with peers, she rarely left the library at all. Her life was dedication, she had to let go of the urges to want, and focus entirely on the future. ”Up.” And she got up. The Jackspars could afford no firearms, and so forewent practicing them. Instead it was decided that Eli would master the art of melee combat in their absence. Lyosha Voloshyna, a carpenter and one of the family’s only “friends”, happily supplied them with wooden models of various swords, ranging from the typical and familiar, to the foreign and unique. Eli was made to train with them day in and day out. They would not be weapons held, they would be extensions of her own body, or she would fall short. Countless other prospective pilots had the advantage of proper training, they could afford to be merely “adequate” so long as they rounded out a checklist and passed the neural exam. ”I don’t want you on-par, I want you better. Keep going.” And she would. Hour after hour Eli practiced, submitting herself to the forms and tests of balance. By the time she was in her middle teens, picking up a sword felt like raising her hand, swinging felt like punching. Her threshold for pain was pushed further each day, and every time she kept her mouth shut, kept her face calm, she would catch the ghost of a smirk flicker over her mother’s face. Moving had become a dance, and she was the prima. When she was fifteen, a practice sword broke in her hand, splintering midway down the blade. It was old, nothing unexpected, and the shattering caused her no physical harm. All the same Eli froze, wide eyes fixated on the broken blade, and her arm, then the girl collapsed in a fit of agony. Celina watched, shocked. ”Get up.” But she didn’t. ”Elizabeth, get. Up.” But she couldn’t. It took all of her strength not to cry. It was her first major incident, and the only one Celina ever saw. It took a few years to realize they weren’t going to stop, and seeking professional psychiatric help would murder Eli’s chances at becoming a pilot, so Celina resolved to handle the situation in her own way. Eli knew Eli. Celina knew Elizabeth. ”Stop shaking.” And she would. The final years leading up to application were smooth by Celina’s standards. Her daughter was sharp, fast, resilient, and above all, obedient. She would protect Smith’s Rest, she would protect its people, and she would do so under the instruction of whosoever commanded the forces. Second to her, of course. ”Don’t disappoint me.” And she wouldn’t. -Helped defeat Knight and Rook alongside Percy Moore, Madison Cole, John Strange, and Joe Verona -Took on her younger sister, Vera, as an “assistant” -Bonded with the previous commander, Sophia -Suffered a gruesome defeat at the first assault on Smith’s Rest -Shaken by Sophia’s desertion Text Color: color=6ecff6 Example. Blur :Body-Plan: Blur is a humanoid, bipedal NC, designed to move and strike quickly. Its armor is lacking, but a myriad of thrusters allow not only for fast evasive maneuvers, but also for gap-closing on enemies. :Type/Quality: Blur is designed to be an up-close-and-personal NC, meant to close in on key targets before engaging in a melee assault. In this, Blur excels, and should the enemy be unequipped for close-range combat, they may have trouble. However range is her crux, and while Blur is good at evading enemy fire, should one corner her from far enough away, there is little she can do to get out of the situation. Though Eli would never admit it, Blur works best with, and sometimes even requires a team. :Equipment: -Sets of thrusters allowing for enhanced mobility and sustained flight. -Flare caches for more difficult evasive maneuvers. -Targeting system designed to track a single enemy and suggest/allocate NC power to close the distance in the quickest/most effective manner. Suggestions are automatic, control/execution is manual. :Armaments: -Standard-Issue NC Beam Sword -PPB-2.71 “Plasma Sword” (Purchased) -Deployable “Finger-Claws” (New-Anchorage Custom) -Set of demolition charges sized for NC's. The charges are kept as two separate components that are combined individually in their storage to become armed as needed, so as to avoid detonation from trauma to the housing NC. --- Vera Voloshyna (Left, Ana Moore. Right, Vera Voloshyna) Age 13 Appearance Vera’s short, her blonde hair equally so, and her eyes are vibrant, lively green. She’s taken to dressing like Eli in some cases, with scarves and hoodies and the like, and generally has smudges of dirt or oil on her face. One of her front teeth bears a chip to it. Personality Vera is both easily excitable and hard to bring down. The girl almost always has a smile on her face whether something fun is happening or not, and tends to be more on the gullible side. Background Vera’s parents were at Smith’s Rest long before she was born. Her mother was a doctor, and as Vera understands it she helped Ms. Jackspar deliver her daughter not long after their arrival, and it wasn’t until more than a decade later that she herself was born. Their families grew close, and Ms. Jackspar took on a completely different, warmer persona around the Voloshynas. When Vera was two, she spent much of her time being babysat by them, when she was five, she had managed to befriend Ms. Jackspar’s daughter, Elizabeth. When she was six, her parents vanished. The family had received threats multiple times over the course of their stay from residents none too fond of the Russian Volkov Security. The Voloshyna’s tried in vain to explain they held no part in the company’s actions, but when at last the threats turned to violence, they had no choice. The letters never addressed their daughter, perhaps because she spent so much time with the Jackspars it was assumed she was just another one of them. Regardless, when Vera’s parents fled they took the opportunity to leave her in the care of their friend, who agreed without complaint or protest. The girl did the rest of her growing up around Elizabeth, and the two grew incredibly close. She did not receive the same harsh training as Elizabeth but Ms. Jackspar did teach her a few tricks to keeping well in the settlement. -Due to an increasingly dangerous home environment, Celina sent her to "assist" Eli on-base. -Survived the assault on Smith's Rest Text Color: color=662d91 Example.
56,118	1,536	84	1,700	2,624	T A H L I A S T Y L E S Hangers - New Anchorage The day started off with the usual morning breakfast call before several hours of hard training under the guidance of Rebecca Marek. Tahlia hadn't done any real training for the longest of time and while she was able to complete the various tasks and requirements set by the Operations Commander, it hadn't been an easy road. For the first couple of days Tahlia had to take her full hour lunch break in order to let her body relax from the torture she was putting it through, watching during that time the various other people that entered and exited the mess hall. She had come to recognise who each person was and even the small friendships that seemed to blossom during that time. One person that she recognised quite easily was Eli. Eli's NC was parked opposite Hanger #8 and next to Hanger #4, meaning that every time Tahlia went to the Mad-e to get some practice in syncing up with a Bipedal machine, she would often pass by the pale girl as she went about with her duties. The occasional hello, nod and general conversation was made, but it wasn't what one would call a blossoming friendship. Tahlia just didn't like talking about her personal life and her past, and from the looks of some of the others, they didn't seem to really question it... except her two engineers. Thomas and Philip had learnt by now exactly when to stop asking their pilot questions. They would go on their usual off topic conversations before one would stop and redirect it elsewhere because they knew that they were encroaching on Tahlia's personal space. "So we're trying this again?" Thomas asked as he loaded up the boot protocol for the Mad-e. "Yes,"] a voice replied from within the Mad-e, "I need to show I can sync up with either the VR or another NC other than my own, and 39% isn't a pass."] 39% was far beyond a pass and Tahlia knew it as she sat inside the alien NC trying to get a grasps on the simplicity of how a bipedal NC should operate. It should have been easy for any pilot and in the past Tahlia DID operate a normal NC. "Tahlia. This just doesn't make any sense. You were just sitting in your NC twenty minutes ago and scored a ninety plus percentage, then you come over here and get a thirty-nine. Are you holding back or anything? Is there something about the Spyder that makes it any different to th— Oof..." Philip felt an elbow from Thomas jab into his side gently as a precautionary. Philip turned to his partner, fuming at his actions, "Hey! It is a serious question!" Tahlia opened up the cockpit as she climbed out onto the scaffolding and made her way down to the ground below, cigarette already in her mouth when she came up next to the two engineers. They stood there cautiously in silence as she leaned over Thomas to have a look at the laptop that he was gathering the details from. With a gentle tap on his shoulder, she motioned for him to move aside in order for her to sit down in his place. The two were surprised that for once she hadn't told them off, but instead was taking the reigns in seeing what the problem was. "So these are?" Tahlia spoke, pointing to the various statistics that were indicated on the screen. "The top one is the sync statistics from the Spyder, bottom two are the details from both the Mad-e and the VR simulation results. Those two lines are showing your elevated heart rate, similar to someone who under extreme distress. They almost match Madison's signs when she had that heavy hit from the Volkov force," Thomas explained, tapping the keyboard to show the various comparisons between the Mad-e's history and Tahlia's attempts, "Without prying too much, is there something we should know because at this rate you're not getting anywhere fast, and if we can't get the Spyder up'n'running you are not entering the battlefield in another NC. You won't be any use to the others at this rate." Tahlia sat in the chair plucking at the bands around her wrist, listening to the gentle rattle in the sea of pneumatic and mechanical tools that were buzzing around the hanger air. She gave a few heavy breaths before laying her non cigarette holding hand on top of the keyboard. "You're right. I am holding back," she began to type a name, somewhat half looking at the monitor and over at the Spyder in the nearby hanger. >O-A-K-L-E-Y J-A-M-E-S S-T-Y-L-E-S "Oakley James Styles? Who's that?" Philip asked as he leaned over to take a look at the name. "If you repeat his name again and I'll punch your headlights out... But that was my son's name." M A D I S O N C O L E Medical Facility - New Anchorage "We're loosing too much blood! You there! Keep pressure on the wound!" "It's no use! The injury is too much, the infection has already started spreading." "Even if we stop it, there's no telling whether she will have any long term repercussions." "Madison dear, I am so sorry for this... Prepare room three for an emergency amputation!" Madison's eyes opened up to a stark white glow of a sun like object. The glare was enough to blind her and force her eyes to seal back shut, but as the moments passed she gained the confidence to reopen them and face the light once more. A bright light, surrounded by the white of the skies and almost heavenly in it's appearance until she started to notice the gentle flicker of electricity surging through the filament. Everything looked rather unusual, everything felt out of place and her vision felt restricted as though she was only peering out of one eye. With a gentle twist and turn of her body she attempted to lift her hands to block the light from beaming down on her face, but the weight of limbs were fighting against her. The left arm felt weak, but responded well to her movement, the right arm however felt empty and void. She lifted her left hand and slapped it across her face, feeling a heavy wrap of bandages like an eye patch over her eye. Carefully she dug her fingers underneath the padding and began to peel it back off her face. "ERGH!!!" she groaned as the light radiated itself into her newly exposed eye, the heat could be felt from the flickering light above, but it wasn't the light source that was causing this pain, it was the un-calibrated nature of her replacement lens. Her body jolted as she turned to her left in attempt to dig that side of her face into the pillow. Her right shoulder unfortunately wanted to pull in the opposite direction and when she rolled back over she could see her right arm was wrapped up. Eh... That's why, she wondered as she let her left hand drop onto her right forearm and began to slowly peel back the layers until she could see metal. Madison stopped for a moment, confused at what the metal was but as more and more layers were slowly peeled back, the reality of what she was seeing began to hit her. "No... No. No, No, No!!" Heart monitors started screaming as her adrenalin began to kick in. Even in her weakened state she shot up in her bed, pulling on all the cords attached to her body and hearing the crash of medical equipment on the ground, but her hand was still ripping into the layers of bandages around her hidden arm until she had exposed what she had feared the most, a limb that wasn't of her own skin and bone. She thought she was only having a nightmare where she continually recalled the misguided words from the medical staff. She didn't expect them to be true. After just waking up and exposing her arm she simply sat there in shock with her mouth open in a silent, harrowing scream while the tears began to form on the corners of her eyes. Madison looked around the empty room, finally realising where she was and what had happened for her to get into this place. She did this, she lead herself into this place and the only thing that she could see that indicated to her that she was still within "Smith's Rest" was a green fluffy dinosaur on the ledge next to her bed. A toy that Ana must have left behind. Madison leaned over and instantly grabbed it, feeling it's warmth as she wrapped her human arm around it and plunged her face into it's padded body. She could feel the surface slowly become wet as her tears dripped down from her eyes and the soft, muffled sniffling sound of her crying began to fill the room.	Name: Jan van Gent Appearance:Jan stands at 1.65 meters tall. He has fair skin, dark-blonde hair styled shortly and combed to the side. He has little standards concerning the clothes he wears, usually wearing whatever he managed to get on the cheap from a clothes vendor. The only criterium to him is that something needs to be functional. It doesn't need to be pretty or graceful, it just needs to work. Age: 27 Role: Flanking/ counter-CQC Personality :A rash and boorish man by nature. Jan is a spirited individual with a somewhat cruel streak to his actions. He doesn't particularly mind if other people are served by his actions, but is ultimately mostly in it for himself. Despite this though, he places great value on loyalty and mutual respect, even if it is for the slightly pragmatic reason that a long-time partner is the best partner. Backstory: A storied and grizzled independent. Jan van Gent was never part of the big five, instead operating with all sorts of factions all over the world as a mercenary contractor. He has probably fought with and against every major player on the current global stage, switching allegiances in quieter periods when hsi current employer's funds dried up, though always taking care not to antagonize anyone enough to draw the wrong sort of attention. A recent stint as a volkov subcontractor saw Jan assigned to New Anchorage. Political machinations above his control then saw volkvov retract their support, with jan's contract being terminated in the fallout. Jan simply shrugged and renegotiated a direct contract with New Anchorage's commander. Just another day on the job. Tactical Preference & Skills: Jan has great proficiency and experience at spotting and exploiting oppurtunities in a tactical situation. He has very good aim with all equipped weapons even at high speeds. He can concentrate on whatever his current target is without anything feasibly breaking his stride, though he is suspectible to a sort of tactical tunnel vision as well. Notes: Jan returns from the previous thread. Text Color: None due to player bias/laziness NC Codename: Goldenspur Appearance: The goldenspur is a grizzled mercenary machine, much like its pilot. Its frame is painted a muted black with gold details. While standing upright, its silhoutte is very visible due to its signature custom-built shoulder plates, somewhat resembling the skeletal wings of the winged hussar cavalry of old. These shoulder plates are folded over the NC's backside when in standby, but stretch to their full impressive length when shoulder weapons are deployed. Body & Type: A medium-class tank body. Original manufacturer is difficult to determine due to the amount of disparate custom parts mixed and matched to create the NC. Armor plating has been stripped and replaced with ligther variants on all sides save for the front to allow for greater manouverability. The NC has the unusual ability to fold downwards into a threaded tank-vehicle designed for speed and getaways. Equipment & Armaments: Goldenspur's main armament is a high-power plasma lance designed to punch through heavy armor and inflict catastrphic damage on internal systems. It requires a long pre-charge time and consumes most of the reactor's energy output when fired, also requiring a cooldown period afterwards. The goldenspur has two standard grade gimballed autoguns mounted on its shoulders. Energy consumption on them is low, and the caliber is sufficient to deal with most non-NC targets as well as posing a threat to NCs with lighter armor. In terms of defensive measures, the goldenspur has a standardized ECM array to deal with fire and forget missiles, a radar dampening coating on its armor, and a set of smoke launchers to disrupt visual contact. The smoke has a peculiar chemical composition that disperses lasers fired through it.
56,119	1,536	85	1,409	1,959	AGATHA SMITHHANGARS, NEW ANCHORAGE The lift offered a smooth assent to the cockpit of the NC labelled Charon, a ride its pilot welcomed in favor of the alternative. Her hand tightened on the railing, shifting the weight from her legs to her arms to ease the tension in her calves. The familiar burn of lactic acid left her feeling stiff, and a part of her just wanted to sit down and rest for an hour even after their lunch period had ended. That Ops director is a hard ass. Damn good drill instructor, but that shit is going to smart something fierce. With an unwelcome jerk Agatha’s lift reached their destination. She disembarked and quickly boarded the Charon under the guise of performing her diagnostics on the NC. It wasn’t unusual for independents to get twitchy around strangers poking around their NC, so it wasn’t questioned. Even then, with Stein being on base longer than Agatha they undoubtedly had to get used to pilots needing a private space to center themselves. Agatha fell limply into the chair the moment the hatch sealed behind her. “Gyah!” The aged lion slammed her fist into a section of paneling not occupied with essential systems. It was of note for being without any controls or displays, just a slab of metal that was dented and pitted from internal abuse. Weathered hand met tested steel and neither budged, Agatha’s fist driving itself impotently forward even after her momentum was lost. Her knuckles ached as the flesh was scraped from the violent abrasion, but that wasn’t new. Everything ached, everything felt as though it had been introduced to a meat tenderizer before being doused in the battery acid. Agatha wanted to drag her tired legs to her bunk and pass out for the next week and a half, but she couldn’t afford to fail here. She wanted to pant and groan and bellyache like some of the other pilots after Rebecca’s boot camp, but she wasn’t allowed the luxury of appearing weak when everyone already thought she was past her expiration date. She wanted to pull Stein into a side room and demand she tell her what was wrong between her and her father, but she didn’t have that right because Stein wasn’t her child. There is too much at stake to not prove myself here.. I’m still the same pilot, and nothing has changed but the date. Agatha pulled her fist back, leaving behind four crimson smears where she vented her frustrations. It joined a larger mosaic of older strikes upon steel, blood so aged and chipped it peeled just from being breathed upon. Alongside these were the dents caused by a fist momentarily surpassing the substance it struck, and an odd scorch mark from the firing of a laser pistol inside the cockpit. .How weak she seemed in comparison, that her might had dwindled to such a pathetic degree. She’d have been better off staying retired...or maybe- NO. -Agatha would have been better off if she died young? FUCK YOU! I’M STILL HER. I’M STILL A PILOT! The view screens before her reflected the inside of the cockpit, but in her place was the Agatha of yesteryears, strong, beautiful, and above all, dangerous. Her lips curled back like a predator baring its teeth to future prey and laughed at the old woman. The fool who thought to regain what she willingly gave up. The mirage of days past ridiculed her soundlessly as Agatha brought her bloody hand to her eye, trying to block out the spectre. But there was nothing to hide from for their was nothing before her. Just a woman, her reflection, and the years that weighed heavily upon her shoulders.	AGATHA SMITH Appearance: Standing at 5’6”, Agatha has sharp features and a smile that could cut an NC to ribbons. Hair once flaxen has long since gone gray, which is pulled into a loose bun. Deep set green eyes and a pointed nose. Some people have told her she has the face of a 1st grade Math teacher who takes joy in assigning homework over the weekend. While not a weight lifter, she has a solid frame from years of hard work on the surface. Tends to wear a faded burgundy vest over an oil stained grey jumpsuit. Age: 58 Role: Scout Sniper Personality: Agatha is a restless woman who finds there is no worse fate than finding yourself without purpose. Give’s 110% percent to everything she does, and is a strong proponent of clean living, or as clean as one can get outside the burrows. Carries herself with a wizened air of experience that comes with age, not book smarts. Could be described as desperate in search for a cause, desperate enough to come to Anchorage. Doesn't acknowledge her own bitterness with having settled down and giving up on piloting. Feels like she lost out on something important, but can't besmirch her husbands memory or their daughters to disregard their lives together as unimportant. Biography: Born and raised on the surface, Agatha always knew she was a special snowflake. At the bizarrely typical age of 14, she was found compatible to pilot an NC. Like so many before her she was drawn into piloting a bipedal weapon of mass destruction and had many mercantile adventures as an independent NC operator that aren’t worth recollection. The kinds of adventures that blur together but can often be summed up as, ‘Go to exotic locations, meet interesting people, and kill them’. Throughout her ventures she had a loyal mechanic who would have followed her to hell and back by the name of Albert Smith. He wasn’t particularly handsome or clever, but he was loyal, sweet, and won over her affections through his perseverance. At 27 Agatha was married, by 28 she had a daughter and another on the way. Finding their means of employment too dangerous to foster a family, they decided it was prudent for Agatha to set aside the adventuring for a more sedentary lifestyle. Investing their considerable saving towards setting up shop in a scrapyard, Agatha began a new life as a mother and family woman. For years, that was good enough. All the effort she had put forth piloting her NC was directed towards running the scrapyard and raising her kids. There wasn’t the same rush that came with piloting a multi-ton automaton, but she was satisfied for a time. Then the children grew up, and left the nest to find out their own destinies. To be the special snowflakes that have fantastical opportunities all lined up for the taking if they only go out and claim them. Her husband of 29 years had grown ill and passed peacefully in his sleep. That left Agatha, with a job she didn’t care for and no one relying upon her. Most would have considered this time to retire, settle down and indulge herself before the inevitable end, but she couldn’t. Even with the best years of her life in the past, she knew she had more to give. Firing up the old NC, which had been used as a makeshift crane for the scrapyard, she went out to recapture her lost glory, but found there wasn’t any demand for someone so long out of the game. The only ones as desperate as she was where the good folks down at New Anchorage, and they just so happened to be looking for any pilot that would come their way. Tactical Preference: Specializes in the collection and dissemination of tactical information with the armaments to capitalize on this knowledge with unparalleled veracity from long range. Relies upon heavy thrusters to facilitate rapid repositioning to out maneuver and evade enemy forces. Word Color: Teal 008080 NC Codename: Charon Body Type: Moderately armored bipedal NC specialized towards ease of movement and relocation. Meant to be a Sniper who repositions with each shot and endeavors to flank an enemy rather than engage from extreme long range at a stationary position. The armor isn't enough for front line combat, but is sufficient to keep Charon active while exposed during relocation. Equipment: -Powerful, back mounted thruster pack for explosive bursts of propulsion meant for either rapid ascent on a vertical plane or dashing forward to cover long distance in a short time. -Advanced Targeting suite to magnify targets up to 60x and offer thermal and night vision capabilities at range. Will paint targets viewed through optics with a marker that will be relayed to friendly units. Armaments: - PXS-8.0 'Opticor' Super heavy Maser rifle. - leg mounted dumb fire rocket pods. 2 pods per leg, 12 rockets each. - Shoulder mounted smoke grenade launcher.
56,120	1,536	86	1,469	281	JAN VAN GENTCORRIDORS, NEW ANCHORAGE Jan was on his way to the barracks to get an after-lunch sleep while that was still an option. Knowing the way Graham was reforming the place, it wouldn't be long till some other exercise or busywork would be instated then. Jan hoped it would be the former rather than the latter. He was glad to follow orders as long as there was some discernible point to them. Busywork did not have a point to Jan, and so he loathed it. He thought about the training of the last few days. The drill sergeant was quite a fiery woman, but Jan’s primary motivation had been on his fellow NC pilots. Specifically the want to keep up with Stein and leave Moore in the dust. The man hadn’t caused any more trouble since his altercation with the commander nine days ago but Jan sometimes wondered about the sanity of raising one’s daughter on a military base. Moore’s daughter was quite a spritely little imp; just the sort of person Jan wouldn’t want to see in a military environment, if only because they would lose something there that the world was already having a deficit on… idealism... and hope. Still, there was some utilitarian logic to at least testing the girl for compatibility. It wasn’t like they would immediately insert a plug in her the moment they tested positive… or at least, that’s what Jan assumed. Graham didn’t seem like the sort of person to do that. And just as he passed by the simulation labs on his way to the barracks, he saw two familiar small figures emerging from there, the faint glimmer of residual conductor gel still glistening on their heads. “So, Moore decided to relent and have you tested after all? Heh… good to see he turned around on that.” The children stopped walking and Ana looked up at Jan. Her expression showed that she was thrown off by that question. “Um.. W-well..” the younger of the two children pulled down on her shirt, looking down at the floor before looking back up to the adult, a smile on her face. She sounded as fake as her smile looked. “Yeah, h-he sure did!” Beside her, Vera winced but nodded along. Jan laughed out loud. “Yeah, and I suppose he also suddenly grew a spine then?! Come on, I know a lying face when I see one.” It looked like Jan might’ve hit a nerve in Ana, because she gave him the grumpiest little angry face he’s ever seen on someone her size. It was adorable and not at all threatening to the likes of him. “He’s not spineless. He’s really brave,” she said. Jan’s laugh died down into the occasional chuckle. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t talk about your dad like that. I know I would kick the ass of anyone that spoke about my mum that way…” Jan resisted the urge to ruffle through Ana's hair. He was just an acquaintance, and he wasn’t intent on having Moore on his ass about touching his daughter at all. “So… care to share the results? Or is it some sort of girls-only secret for now?” ”Pff, as if there was any doubt, we both aced it,” Vera said, flourishing her hands in the air with a splitting grin that faltered when she looked to Ana. She cleared her throat and neatly tucked a few stray strands of hair out of her face. ”But uh...that’s that. Was just the test.” “Well, I was just on my way to the barracks to get some sleep… maybe I could tell you girls what being an NC pilot is all about. And… why you should consider other things first..” Jan chuckled again… He stared at the girls in a manner that suggested just a hint of hollowness behind his lightheartedness. “Seriously, it might look awesome as an outsider observer, but it’s really not all fun and games.” Jan continued walking down the hallway. He expected the girls to follow him, driven by the curiosity of the young. A few moments passed before he’d hear Vera scuttling after, hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. ”So let’s hear it old timer,” she said, her own lofty demeanor evidently unfazed. Ana was close behind, nodding in agreement with Vera. Jan kept talking as he walked. “Well first of all, with that plug stuck in your neck you’re never gonna be comfortably sleeping on your back again. I miss that the most,” He poked the metal subtly jutting out of his neck to call attention to it. “And then there’s all the constant hygienic procedures that come with this thing. You ever seen a neural plug get infected? It’s not a pretty sight.” Jan wanted to keep talking about the lighthearted stuff, just to see what sort of reaction he’d get. If they would already chicken out from the minor inconveniences, he would at least have spared them the really bad stuff… like the constant presence of a hole in his spine he could feel every time he shifted his neck the wrong way. “I had to help with cleaning it once,” Ana said, “it was really gross and I think I might’ve messed up or something cause his back hurt for a little bit. He had to go to a doctor to make sure it was ok. He does it by himself now. He takes aaagges in the bathroom!” ”Li...Eli doesn’t let me mess with it,” Vera added simply. The mental image of Moore sitting down and carefully cleaning his neural plug out amused Jan for some reason. He didn’t know why, he did it himself regularly too. He considered for a moment how he himself looked while cleaning his plugs out and concluded it would look similarly amusing. “Yeah… now consider you’d be doing that yourself for pretty much the rest of your life… That and you have holes leading directly into your spine… kind of uncomfortable too.” Ana looked visibly disgusted, but she tried to hide it so Jan could keep going. Judging by what she said, this is stuff she kind of knew already. Jan sighed. Moore’s kid and her friend seemed to be quite a stronger stock. It was time brought out the things he thought would discourage a kid the most. “The whole thing is a crap shoot when you make a mistake too; if you ain’t outright toasted you’ll be paying off replacement parts for god knows how long. And you’ll have a lot of people pissed at you no matter what side you pick.” Jan stopped walking and turned around. “So, with that being said… does piloting an NC still seem cool to you? I can go on for far longer about the downsides, but I’m just gauging whether you’d make a good pilot.” He looked at them directly. “Cause if you don’t really want to do something like this, it’ll just be a waste for everyone involved.” The redhead girl didn’t say anything for a moment, like she might’ve been thinking about what was being said.. If she was anything like Moore, it was probably the whole “everyone being pissed off at you” thing that was really getting to her. It was a little hard to tell unless you were psychic. ”Is that gonna be up to you?” Vera asked, tone innocent despite her words. Perhaps that was intentional. “Nope, but I’d rather know the people I might be in a squad with one day.” Jan replied in a similarly flat tone. “But we’re kids. You’re older. If we were pilots we’d be adults and you’d be an old person.. They can’t make us pilot now. It’s our choice. Not Graham’s, not yours, not anybody’s but ours.” Jan laughed at the statement. “Have you seen Agatha? She’s ancient and she’s still flying. Being an NC pilot isn’t really something you retire from as far as I know. And yes, it’s your choice… but it can’t hurt to know what you might be signing up for in advance… I did that once, it got me firing rockets at civilians for a few months before I got out under a loophole.” “You hurt innocent people?” The shock in the younger child’s voice was evident. It then turned into anger as she spat, ”You hurt people that didn’t deserve it? Did you shove them in little boxes too?” Vera had her eyes cast elsewhere, and though she remained quiet, did not look angry. “Yeah? What do you think I was gonna do otherwise? Make them ruin me and my extended family for breaking a contract? People that don’t deserve it get hurt all the time. You stop giving a fuck about it like I do or it’ll break you. Your dad, now he couldn’t stop giving a fuck and look at how the rest of us treat him for it.” “Well that’s your own faults! You’re all DICKS!” Ana sounded very much akin to a dying cat by now. She was engulfed with a rage Jan didn’t think an eight year old could have and not combust. ”Maybe if you guys actually DID CARE maybe he wouldn’t be like that! H-he said that he feels INADEQUATE and DUMB and a bunch of other bad stuff and it’s cause of everybody PICKING on him! Why are you people nice to me and not him? Is it cause I’m little? Is it cause I’m a girl?” “Inadequate and dumb eh? Well… he certainly acts the part. Listen up kid. Out there, I need to know I can trust the squad I’m working with, and Moore does not act like someone I’d trust. At least from what I’ve seen of him so far. Maybe if he’s less of a milksop I’ll actually start liking him. But for now, I’ll just bring him down till he grows some balls and does something back. Cause if he fucks up while piloting, we’re all fucked right along with him.” Jan might have regretted going through a man’s children, but right now the situation just sparked off into that. “Dick!” Ana stormed off, looking back at Vera briefly like she wanted her to follow. For a moment the older just kept her place, looking from Ana back to Jan. ”I dunno if I really...buy that. Y’know?” The comment was all she said before she offered Jan, of all things, a sympathetic smile, before trotting off after Ana. Jan could hear the smaller girl ranting and raving to herself even from the distance she was at. “Heh… feisty one that kid.” Jan simply remarked as he walked off to his barracks. For some reason, he felt like he would be hearing about this.	Name: Joe Verona Nicknames: Joe-it-all Role: Artillery/Hacking Text-color: edb25b Joe is the son of the mechanic Arin Verona, working in Smith's rest, which allowed Joe to get to see a few NCs in his life while his father was working on them. He also picked up a bunch of scientific knowledge regarding engineering from him. An old but still post-cataclysm computer was a gift for his 13th birthday; it only had a commandline interface, although it was possible for it to display and generate images. Especially the lack of a graphical user interface paved the way for Joe to learn much about computing with his remainder of a child's ability to learn complex systems quickly, given sufficient interest. About two years ago the financial situation of the family got really bad, so Arin decided to sell Joe's computer. Unfortunatly without consulting him first. The very same day Joe noticed and snapped, punching his father in the head during the rage which lasted only a few seconds before he regained control. The force of the punch was great enough to break his hand and permanently damage his father's brain. As a result of the damage, Arin's long-term memory is unable to store new memories, although previous memories from before that day remain unaffected.After he was assigned to Smith's Rest's NC squad as punishment(although he usually doesn't mention it), the first thing he did to his NC was intentionally crash it's software to have an easier time reconfiguring it to his liking. As he did not warn or tell the engineers, they were pretty surprised and angry at that move of his. On his first mission, he defeated 'Rook' an enemy NC alongside Percy(a fellow pilot at the time), and also shut down a broken down nuclear reactor while exposing himself to dangerous levels of radiation. No effects of radiation could be found at a medical examination after the mission, but he was advised to avoid radiation as much as possible. During his second mission, he noticed how much Swarm's weaponry depended on visual at the time, very thick fog could easily throw off the targeting laser, so he purchased a railgun for the Swarm. After the siege of Smith's Rest, the settlement was renamed to New Anchorage, and after some time Joe was scheduled to go on a mission, which he tried to use to escape from his punishment, but before he could set his plan into motion, the old captain of the team deserted, completely throwing off the entire schedule. Although he hasn't heard from her since, he is still on good terms with the former captain, and if she keeps her promise she made when she left, he will occasionally recieve letters from her. Once Graham became the commander of the team, they were expected to do combat simulations. However, Joe failed to plug into the simulations, the cause has yet to be determined. Later the same day, while Joe was trying to go after clues why he couldn't connect to the simulation, he stumbled upon the concept of a long range acoustic device, called 'sound-cannon' by some. He proceeded to purchase 200 high-powered speakers and 2 control circuit boards for them, hoping he could maybe recreate one, and if he could, possibly install it on his NC.Age: 26 Personality: Joe is usually the analytical type, using knowledge to his advantage. It is very hard to anger him, and if he is in a rage it only lasts for seconds, but during those seconds he is capable of anything, except staying calm and analytical. height: 1.79m normal weight, although closer to underwheight than to overwheight pale as a vampire Tactical preference/skills:Joe isn't really cut out for combat, mostly because his tendency to overanalize his situation lowers his reaction-time significantly; in some situations 2 seconds pass before he can react. As such he usually prefers to be in safe locations during a battle, being rather involved in communications, tactics or cyber-warfare(taking remote control of an enemy unit and the like). He is not a great tactitian despite his analytical nature though Neural Plug Synchronization: 77% Other things of note: NERD!!! Code-Name: Swarm A general humanoid, although armored and handless. Where the hand would normally be is instead a currently unoccupied weapon or utility slot Type/Quality: It acts as a ranged unit, taking out both grounded and airborn targets, preferably out of their range. Middling-low To ease targeting and target-prioritizing, the head is equipped if a more powerful radar, which can manually be focussed in any direction to increase its range in that direction a bit. The Swarm is equipped with 2 guidance systems: A cruise missile controller for precise strikes with single missles An IR-laser to aim at whatever a volley of heat-seekers shall target. The laser itself has not enough power to do any damage on its own The 22 missile launcher have a reload time of 40 seconds and it takes about 4 seconds to fire an entire volley of missiles. 1 Sys: VEKW-01.65 railgun (purchased) General Description: The Swarm Is a heavier, hunchbacked unit with an extreme focus on long range combat and defensive armaments. It features numerous long-range high mobility missile launchers, and it would have a high-powered plasma cannon in the waist, but that mount is currently unoccupied. As well, the Swarm has an interesting backpack design suited for aerodynamics and in-atmosphere flight speed, effectively meaning that while it's slow as mollasses on the ground, its actually sort of fast in the air. However, if the backpack was hit by a heavier weapon, due to speedy and shoddy construction, it does have a chance to damage the rest of the unit. Thus, the pilot should always point towards the enemy.
56,121	1,536	87	1,318	425	PERCYBARRACKS, NEW ANCHORAGE The pilot was simply laying in his bed, on his stomach - he would be laying on his back if he didn’t have bits of metal that grinded into his spine every time he did so. Even with that discomfort, he couldn’t stop thinking about what kind of trouble Ana and Vera might’ve gotten into. Paradoxically, it was relaxing to imagine them getting into some childish hijinks. Maybe they were pulling some innocent pranks on some of the pilots, or exploring the facility. Maybe they were doing something nice, like helping the people in the kitchen - Ana helped him cook before he decided to move the two of them to base. Maybe they really were just having a little “girls-only” club thing. It was only two people, but still; that could be a club, right? Maybe they were getting into makeup and playing dress up and other little girl things. He couldn’t help but grin at the thought of Vera and Ana in cute little dresses and tiaras playing princess with each other. ”DAD.” Percy’s heart nearly leapt out of his mouth and he very nearly squealed like a girl. He was so engulfed in his own thoughts he didn’t hear Ana screaming. He hopped up and quickly opened the door, allowing her to stomp in. “What? What, what’s up?” “JAN’S A DICK!” Ana shouted, not caring if anyone else could hear her. “HE’S A STUPID DICK AND I HATE HIM AND HE’S MEAN AND-” “ANA,” Percy’s voice rose very much above Ana’s, making her stop shouting. He cleared his throat before he continued in a much softer voice, “What happened?” “So me and Vera just got out of the testing thing and then Jan was all like “oooh so your dad stopped being a wuss and let you do it” and then I was like “well no I lied”-” “Test? You lied? Ana, wh-” “—AND THEN he was talking about how awful being a pilot is and I KNOW cause you TELL ME ALL THE TIME-” “Ana, what test?!” “—AND THEN HE SAID HE HURT INNOCENT PEOPLE AND DOESN’T CARE CAUSE HE’S A DIIIICKKK! AND-” “ANA LAURA MOORE.” Ana stopped shouting again. The look on her face showed that she just realized what she had said. She looked up at her father with a much less angry and much more guilty expression. “D-Dad, wait, d-don’t get mad-” “What. Test?” Percy insisted. He was praying that it wasn't the one he was thinking- “The.. the one with the piloting.” It was. “YOU TOOK THAT TEST? ANA! NO! N- WHY? WHY WOULD—” Percy stopped and just turned around so he wouldn’t be facing Ana. He wanted to just bend her over and SPANK her, but he wasn’t that kind of parent, and he wasn’t raised like that either. He was better than that. Forcing himself to at least calm his voice, he looked at his daughter. “Ana.” “I’m sorry! Vera said—” “SO IT WAS VERA’S IDEA?” Percy didn’t want to have to break up the friendship they had, but if Vera was going to do THAT, then maybe he’d have to. “SHE SAID WE NEEDED TO WITHOUT YOU KNOWING CAUSE YOU’D GET LIKE THIS!” “WELL SHE’S GODDAMNED RIGHT THAT I’D GET LIKE THIS! IS SHE OUT OF HER DAMN MIND? ELI AND I ARE GONNA HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THIS, CAUSE IF THIS IS WHAT VERA’S TURNING YOU IN—” “I’M NOT TURNING INTO ANYTHING!” Ana coughed a little bit, the screaming was obviously hurting her throat. She continued, her voice still loud but not nearly as piercing. “It was just a TEST to see if we COULD. Graham SAID it was MY CHOICE.” “IT’S NOT YOUR CHOICE!” Percy screamed, “IT’S MINE! I am your FATHER, and you WILL do as I SAY, and I SAY THAT YOU ARE NOT. PILOTING. ANYTHING.” “I WASN’T PLANNING ON IT!” Ana’s voice sounded a little hoarse at this point, “ESPECIALLY IF I TURN INTO PEOPLE LIKE JAN OR GRAHAM OR YOU!” “WELL GOOD, CAUSE-” Percy stopped when that last part processed in his mind. He was still angry, but he couldn’t bring himself to shout now. She didn't just say that, did she? “MAYBE YOU ARE A WUSS. AND STUPID. AND MEAN. AND AWFUL.” Ana continued - certainly she didn’t realize what she was saying. Surely. She didn’t mean it. “Ana, alright, enough-” “VERA’S THE ONLY SANE ONE HERE AND YOU WANNA TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME?! YOU SHOULD KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO HAVE SOMEONE TAKEN AWAY! YOU WANNA DO THAT TO ME?!” Percy felt his throat tense - she had to go there, didn’t she? His voice shook a little as he spoke, “No- Ana, look, that’s enough, I-I’m not mad-” Before Percy could attempt to settle the conversation any further, Ana screamed and then stormed out of the room, knocking over a lamp and a table in the process. When the door slid closed, he picked up the table and the lamp. She didn’t mean it. She didn’t mean what she said. She’s just angry, and that’s fine. She’s got every right to be angry at him. He is a wuss. He is stupid. He has to be to be doing this. He can’t do a goddamned thing right and he hates it. He hates everything about this. He hates Graham. He hates Jan. He hates Stein. Agatha. Everybody. FUCK every single person in this stupid place they can all go stick moose antlers right up their asses. He wasn't asking for everyone to fucking kiss his ass and lick his damn shoes clean! All he needed is a little bit of a pat on the back to assure him he’s doing the right thing and that he’s not as much of a fuckup as he keeps thinking he is. He just wanted someone to hug him and tell him he’s wanted. That he’s needed. He knew it was immature and childish but that’s all he wanted.. Aside from Ana being safe, of course. Ana was the top priority. At that thought, he left the room to go hunt her down and make sure she didn’t do something she couldn’t get out of.. Anger makes people irrational, afterall. Especially children, and especially Ana. AY how would you feel about Jingo trying to comfort the very small ball of rage that is Ana?	Percy J. Moore Age: 32 Role: > Support Appearance: He's a pretty average looking guy. He's about 5 ft 8in, 167 lbs. He has red hair and freckles all over his body, suggesting he's at least a little Irish. At least a little. Even though everything else about him seems warm and inviting, his eyes are a cool gray blue. Some people have told him he looks a little girly, but his stubble shows otherwise. He also has a little bit of a nose on him. Normally, he'd wear a blue jean jacket with a faux fur collar with a dark sandy brown turtleneck underneath, light jeans with dark long-johns underneath, and some worn but sturdy leather-y hiking boots (with socks, of course). He also has a set of more intimidating black steel toed boots, but he doesn't wear those very often. He also has two silver rings on his left hand. One is his wedding ring, the other is his wife's. The glasses shown in the picture are merely for reading. (I just couldn't keep the glasses-wearing Percy to myself tho like look at him) Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) He's got one or two screws a little bit loose.. He's paranoid, temperamental, overprotective and has a very hard time relaxing. Under all that he's really just scared. He's scared for his daughter and himself. He doesn't want his girl to end up like her mother - dead - or him - an emotional mess that's barely got his shit together. If you can get through the barrier to the guy underneath it, you've got yourself a friend that's gonna have your back 99% of the time. Backstory: He was living an average life that was as comfortable as it can be in a wasteland with his mother and father in Smith's Rest.. maybe even a little bit sheltered. After moving out of the house so he can have some time to really figure out who he was as a person, his parents died shortly after because of a disease that was spreading across the settlement. A few years after that, and after a few romps with some other people, he met a lovely woman that was just a year older than him - Laura. Laura was, in his eyes, very pretty, very intelligent, and very much the yin to his yang. They just clicked. They had a child out of wedlock, but they married after their little girl, Ana, was born. A few months later, as they were finally settled into parenthood and Percy thought that maybe everything's alright, Laura was killed in an accident in her workplace. Percy had to tackle parenthood alone. He did awfully at first - Laura was a much better parent than he was at that point in time - but he gradually got better. Ana grew up to be a bright eyed little girl. He took the job because he was in need of the huge sum of money promised. He thought he could just get in, get out, be over with it.. It'd be easy! He was so, so wrong - he figured that one out after the surgery to get his plug.. That's what he gets for not reading the fine print. After dealing with a surprise attack on Smith's Rest, he's gotten meaner and a little less forgiving. Then, after the events of the Navy attack, his NC was damaged to the point it locked up, was able to be toppled, and the right side of his body was mangled pretty badly - so badly in fact, on top of breaking his leg, he lost his hand. His face was luckily kept in tact. He's back into what Sophia called the unfair game with much hesitance.. he prays he doesn't lose any more body parts. Tactical Preference & Skills: > He'd rather stay away from bloodshed if he can, but if he can't, sticking close to the team would be his second choice. He has a very strong desire to protect those around him, even if they're in huge mechas, making him an adequate support. > If he was to do a solo mission and the only person he has to worry about is himself (and he's confident that he'll be fine), he would find no issues with getting his metal hands dirty. Or oily, I guess. Notes: > He hates getting drunk - not because of what it does to him, but because his hangovers are awful > He has pistol that's been passed down for generations upon generations. It's technically obsolete, but he's very good at using it. > He also has a pocket knife that was a sort of "parting gift" from Sophia (the former commander). > He has a prosthetic hand now. He both hates it and kind of totally loves it. > His sync rate is around 75-90%, depending on his mental state. Text Color: LightSteelBlue, or b0c4de Codename: Papa Mike Appearance:: Looks clunkier and heavier than it really is. Basic metallic black paint with white accents. Has a couple dings here and there, but it's not affecting anything major. Older model modified to meet standards of the present, really. Body & Type: > Bipedal > Originally designed to be semi-proficient at most tasks. Has been modified to be faster and more powerful than the original. Equipment: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > Slightly damaged stock neural computer - a bug in the computer is that it calls Percy "Micheal" instead of "Percy." Percy has tried to fix it but is afraid he'll break something else. He's not a coder for fuck's sake. > Above-average thrusters specifically designed for short bursts of speed > Slightly above average generator Armaments: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > VEKW-01.65 (New-Anchorage Custom - 35 rounds, mid-to-long-range) > PPB-2.71 (New-Anchorage Custom - melee (laser sword), standard white in color) Small Standard Fairbanks-Model missile launcher on the back (3 missile burst, long-range) random tidbits (will be added to as I think of things) > Before the NC was Percy's, it belonged to a guy named Michael who was actually an assault/support for his squad.. hence the computer calling him "Michael" :P Ana L. Moore The redhead is Ana. The ushanka girl is Vera Age: 8 Appearance: She's just past the average height of girls her age, being 4ft 2in, but she's underweight at 50 lbs. She shares many of her father's physical traits, just softened (especially her nose). She also has his red hair and freckles - her freckles are more in her face, however. Her eyes are a very lovely shade of green. She's usually wearing a pink and white striped sweater that's beaten up from being worn so often, some dark pants that are equally as beat up, and some shoes that are so worn it's probably time for new ones. She has what she would call "a dumb monkey hat with stupid looking gloves that match" that she really would prefer not to wear (she's eight, not FIVE), but her father makes her wear it sometimes when it's colder than usual. Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) Despite all that's happened, she's still very optimistic and caring. She's got a will made of titanium and she's braver than she realizes she is - even braver than her father, who she feels is the bravest person in the whole world. She's a little bit like her father in the sense that she also has a touch of a temper as well... maybe not a touch. Backstory: She was born to Laura and Percy. She never knew her mother, because she died when she was little. When the surprise attack in Smith's Rest happened, she was almost taken away for who knows what purpose. Almost. She was saved, but her perceptions of the world changed pretty drastically. She didn't know just how scary the world was till then. She's slowly learning to deal with the nightmares, but she probably won't like confined spaces very much. Notes: > She stole a box of crayons from the school once. She still has that box of crayons. > She absolutely loves dogs. Puppies are awesome. > She is very much capable of taking care of herself.. for the most part. > She's a bit clumsy - she has a very tiny, almost unnoticeable scar on her nose, between her eyes. she walked into a door frame when she was little. > Birthday is August 7th. Text Color: Violet or ee82ee
56,122	1,536	88	1,524	552	AGATHA and ELIHALLS, NEW ANCHORAGE It had been just over a week, and already Eli could feel a sense of improvement. Perhaps the scores would not reflect it as profoundly as she hoped --yet, anyway, she would assure herself— but she knew the feeling well. Minor, fleeting, but definite all the same as it overtook her fears. At the very least, she thought herself presentable, if not to the commander, than at least to the other pilots. Recalling what Lofgren had told her the first go, she decided to request company. Stein would have been an easy choice, but she knew the other girl’s combative style, at least at the basest level. Van Gent had been suggested as well, but she had mentally blacklisted the idea as soon as it had been offered. That left her with another respectable choice, the elder of the group, Agatha. A plus in more ways, since Eli figured she’d need to know the woman’s preference for fighting sooner than later anyway. And so it was she set about to find her. It was in Eli’s search for a partner that she came upon the eldest pilot, roaming the halls. Her hair, normally in a simple bun, was looser than normal, and she had bandages across one hand, but beyond that she seemed her normal self. Or as normal as Eli would assume, having not interacted much between the two of them. Agatha plastered on a cocksure grin and asked, “Hey, it’s Eli right? You need something?” ”Yes,” she said, and looked the woman top to bottom. She seemed to have been working, which was good. There was momentum to keep up in that case. ”I want you with me in the next VR combat simulation. Are you fit to attend?” ”Fantastic. I’d been mulling over what to do today, and that sounds like a good workout.” Agatha answered, rolling her shoulder in preparation. “Hey, you think we can invite Stein in on this? I think I’m growing on her, but we haven’t done much since I got here. It’ll be a good group exercise.” Eli thought it over. In all honesty, she did have an urge to fight with Stein again, and survive the simulation. ”Yes, where is she?” The elder pilot cupped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, can’t say I have her exact location, but she’s bound to be at one of the training facilities. The woman is a work-a-holic after my own heart. Any luck and we’ll find her on the way to the VR room. If not you could always send her a message asking her to meet us there for a friendly bout.” ”Hm.” Eli set about the task quickly, tapping out the message: ”VR simulation if available. Pilot Smith accompanying.” before setting the datatool away. ”Done. I don’t expect she’ll be absent.” ”Sounds like a plan. Let’s not keep the Ace waiting.” The elder pilot fell into step beside Eli as they moved on. ”The Ace?” Eli asked, starting off for Lofgren’s. It wouldn’t take the two long to make it there. “Stein. You know, she’s always working herself to the bone, carries herself like she’s been bred for this work. Haven’t seen her behind the wheel of her NC, but I wouldn’t think it’s a stretch to say she’s the Ace around here.” Agatha turned a critical eye to younger pilot. ”Unless you want that claim?” Eli craned her neck around to meet Agatha’s gaze. ”I want the people of New Anchorage safe. Titles aren’t enough.” Agatha raised her hands in faux defense. ”No offense intended, just a moniker I’ve taken to using.” ”A well earned one, I won’t argue.” “I take it you’re a local then? Most recent hires wouldn’t be so invested.” Eli nodded. ”Concerning, but true.” ”I’d try to convince you that I’m contrary to this trend, and I am, but I’ll save myself the breath and you your incredulity by saying I’ll prove myself when Graham decides to test us.” ”Yes, you will.” Eli would have been content to leave it there, but no sooner did she shut her mouth was she hearing Vera’s voice, scolding her in the back of her mind. It was enough admitting that it was Graham who would be testing their loyalty to New Anchorage, but still. With a sigh, she went on. ”I have the utmost respect for your previous service. I hope you understand my reservations.” “Completely understandable” ”Agatha paused, remembering something she had wished to discuss with Eli since she had her confrontation with Percy. “Eli, can I ask you about the kid that’s usually around you. She doesn’t look like your kid sister...” Eli felt a cold chill return to her neck, leaking down her shoulders. She shook her head, hesitant. ”Vera is a friend of the family. She’s here as my assistant.” ”Her family in the picture?” ”No,” Eli said. It was hard to admit why, hard to say that the Voloshyna’s had been driven out by her home. So she didn’t. ”My mother and I look after her.” ”She looks happy.” Agatha said, giving Eli an approving nod and grin. ”A bit strict, but I can’t fault that. You're a good parent, Eli. Glad to see someone who is around here.” Eli’s pulse quickened at the words. It felt better to hear them than she’d have expected, a different sort of validation even if it was at the cost of someone else. For the second time since she’d begun working for New Anchorage, she was happy for the coverage her scarf provided, and the shadows her hood cast over her face. There was a definite strain to the first words she uttered, but as always, she got herself on leash. ”Good pilot or not, Moore loves his daughter. He’s not a bad parent.” Agatha scoffed at notion of Percy being good at anything. ”Love is one thing, but he hasn’t shown commitment to defending his child. If he’s going to let Graham and…others walk over him, his daughter, and his wife, then it doesn’t matter how much he loves that girl because he isn’t being her parent.” She thumped her bicep with a bandaged fist. “A parent has to stand up for their own, even if the whole damned world is against them.” ”Measuring someone by their capacity to hurt their superiors is a mistake,” Eli said flatly. ”Percy may not have restraint, but he’s not insubordinate. If anyone posed a true threat to Graham, they would be dead.” ”Come on, you know there wasn’t any real threat of harm back there. Graham had that choreographed to a T.” The elder pilot sighed ruefully, eyes glossing with the haze of recalling days long since past. ”Honestly, we lucked out with our commander. Would have been easy to find a despot, or a corporate shill without any backbone. Used to hear stories of commanders who’d use their authority to, eh, dominate the female members of staff. They used to be the Harem Kings of the East Indies. If we had one of those sorts, well Percy would be finding himself the father of a child bride because he wouldn’t raise a hand in her defense.” Eli nodded, thoughtful, but shrugged. ”Perhaps, but hypothetical situations are just that. I’ve seen Moore fight, I’m content. For now. He may not be the last one standing, but I’m confident he would not be the first to fall.” ”Hmm, loyal I see.” She clapped Eli on the shoulder heartilly. ”See? That’s a good trait in a parent! You and I are going to get along just fine.” They had arrived at the outside of the Simulator Labs before Eli could come up with a proper response. Instead, she checked her datatool to see if Stein had responded, or if she was already present. ”On My Way.” The message read. Agatha nodded her understanding and leaned against the wall. ”So, anything you wanna ask me? Lately I seem to be an interrogator and i just know my girls are laughing at me somewhere for it.” “I imagine it is not a very funny joke.” The monotone voice crept up behind Agatha, the familiar sound of Stein’s words catching the two women off guard. Stein’s arrival seemed oddly timely considering Eli’s eyes had cut to her datatool. Nevertheless, she set it away and nodded her greeting to the other pilot. Agatha pushed herself off the wall and nodded in greeting to her fellow pilot. “Afternoon, Stein. How goes the day?” “You requested me, so there is that fact.” ”I trust you’re both prepared. I don’t expect Lofgren to exercise restraint while there are three of us.” “I am always prepared.” ”Wouldn’t be here if we weren’t.” ”Good,” Eli said, and started into the room. Things had turned out favorably in the end, she’d get to observe Agatha in combat, as well as Stein. Though it would be out-of-NC, knowledge was knowledge, and knowing how to fight with the team was essential, even if she didn’t always want to admit it. With that, the three pilots continued in, ready for whatever challenge would be laid out before them. The days to their test were ticking down, and “satisfactory” would hardly be enough.	Elizabeth Jackspar Age 21 Role Melee Skirmisher Appearance A life dedicated to training has left Eli with a lean, athletic form. An albino, her skin is chalk-white, her long hair a similar color, and her eyes holding a glassy-blue hue. She has a hard gaze and straight posture, like a soldier constantly at attention. Despite this, she’s prone to wearing civilian clothes when things are quiet. Scarves strike her fancy, and she’ll often wear them high on her neck over her mouth, but she’s also prone to gloves and arm warmers. Personality Cold and dismissive to anyone that isn’t her superior, compliant and dutiful to all others with an underlying layer of competitiveness beneath everything. A quick, calculating mind and fast reflexes make Eli a good soldier, but little else unfortunately. In her early teenage years, Eli began suffering from severe and sudden panic attacks, often leaving her an unresponsive wreck. Not knowing how such incidents would affect her daughter's future, her mother went to great lengths to keep the affliction a secret from future potential employers. After a handful of years the attacks decreased in both frequency and intensity without professional assistance, which made concealing them much easier. Tactical Preference/Skills Eli excels in melee combat, preferring swords to firearms and speed to durability. While her specialty is quick execution, she can handle prolonged confrontations, especially against a single opponent. Background ”Eli” Eli was eight years old when she learned her name was short for “Elizabeth”. Her mother, the librarian recluse Celina Jackspar, had used it once, the first time she’d cried during her training. ”Get up, Elizabeth. Now. And never cry in front of me again.” And she never did. The Jackspars might have been lepers for how little they interacted with the world. Confined to a modestly sized library nestled in the corner of what was then “Smith’s Rest”, few ever visited, and fewer were actually aware the spindly, aged woman had a child. With little to their name aside from cases and piles of books, it would not have been unreasonable to assume the family would contribute nothing great to the world. Celina would not allow such an outcome. The training began early, and never slackened. Eli learned from a young age what she was, and would be. She did not attend school, she did not socialize with peers, she rarely left the library at all. Her life was dedication, she had to let go of the urges to want, and focus entirely on the future. ”Up.” And she got up. The Jackspars could afford no firearms, and so forewent practicing them. Instead it was decided that Eli would master the art of melee combat in their absence. Lyosha Voloshyna, a carpenter and one of the family’s only “friends”, happily supplied them with wooden models of various swords, ranging from the typical and familiar, to the foreign and unique. Eli was made to train with them day in and day out. They would not be weapons held, they would be extensions of her own body, or she would fall short. Countless other prospective pilots had the advantage of proper training, they could afford to be merely “adequate” so long as they rounded out a checklist and passed the neural exam. ”I don’t want you on-par, I want you better. Keep going.” And she would. Hour after hour Eli practiced, submitting herself to the forms and tests of balance. By the time she was in her middle teens, picking up a sword felt like raising her hand, swinging felt like punching. Her threshold for pain was pushed further each day, and every time she kept her mouth shut, kept her face calm, she would catch the ghost of a smirk flicker over her mother’s face. Moving had become a dance, and she was the prima. When she was fifteen, a practice sword broke in her hand, splintering midway down the blade. It was old, nothing unexpected, and the shattering caused her no physical harm. All the same Eli froze, wide eyes fixated on the broken blade, and her arm, then the girl collapsed in a fit of agony. Celina watched, shocked. ”Get up.” But she didn’t. ”Elizabeth, get. Up.” But she couldn’t. It took all of her strength not to cry. It was her first major incident, and the only one Celina ever saw. It took a few years to realize they weren’t going to stop, and seeking professional psychiatric help would murder Eli’s chances at becoming a pilot, so Celina resolved to handle the situation in her own way. Eli knew Eli. Celina knew Elizabeth. ”Stop shaking.” And she would. The final years leading up to application were smooth by Celina’s standards. Her daughter was sharp, fast, resilient, and above all, obedient. She would protect Smith’s Rest, she would protect its people, and she would do so under the instruction of whosoever commanded the forces. Second to her, of course. ”Don’t disappoint me.” And she wouldn’t. -Helped defeat Knight and Rook alongside Percy Moore, Madison Cole, John Strange, and Joe Verona -Took on her younger sister, Vera, as an “assistant” -Bonded with the previous commander, Sophia -Suffered a gruesome defeat at the first assault on Smith’s Rest -Shaken by Sophia’s desertion Text Color: color=6ecff6 Example. Blur :Body-Plan: Blur is a humanoid, bipedal NC, designed to move and strike quickly. Its armor is lacking, but a myriad of thrusters allow not only for fast evasive maneuvers, but also for gap-closing on enemies. :Type/Quality: Blur is designed to be an up-close-and-personal NC, meant to close in on key targets before engaging in a melee assault. In this, Blur excels, and should the enemy be unequipped for close-range combat, they may have trouble. However range is her crux, and while Blur is good at evading enemy fire, should one corner her from far enough away, there is little she can do to get out of the situation. Though Eli would never admit it, Blur works best with, and sometimes even requires a team. :Equipment: -Sets of thrusters allowing for enhanced mobility and sustained flight. -Flare caches for more difficult evasive maneuvers. -Targeting system designed to track a single enemy and suggest/allocate NC power to close the distance in the quickest/most effective manner. Suggestions are automatic, control/execution is manual. :Armaments: -Standard-Issue NC Beam Sword -PPB-2.71 “Plasma Sword” (Purchased) -Deployable “Finger-Claws” (New-Anchorage Custom) -Set of demolition charges sized for NC's. The charges are kept as two separate components that are combined individually in their storage to become armed as needed, so as to avoid detonation from trauma to the housing NC. --- Vera Voloshyna (Left, Ana Moore. Right, Vera Voloshyna) Age 13 Appearance Vera’s short, her blonde hair equally so, and her eyes are vibrant, lively green. She’s taken to dressing like Eli in some cases, with scarves and hoodies and the like, and generally has smudges of dirt or oil on her face. One of her front teeth bears a chip to it. Personality Vera is both easily excitable and hard to bring down. The girl almost always has a smile on her face whether something fun is happening or not, and tends to be more on the gullible side. Background Vera’s parents were at Smith’s Rest long before she was born. Her mother was a doctor, and as Vera understands it she helped Ms. Jackspar deliver her daughter not long after their arrival, and it wasn’t until more than a decade later that she herself was born. Their families grew close, and Ms. Jackspar took on a completely different, warmer persona around the Voloshynas. When Vera was two, she spent much of her time being babysat by them, when she was five, she had managed to befriend Ms. Jackspar’s daughter, Elizabeth. When she was six, her parents vanished. The family had received threats multiple times over the course of their stay from residents none too fond of the Russian Volkov Security. The Voloshyna’s tried in vain to explain they held no part in the company’s actions, but when at last the threats turned to violence, they had no choice. The letters never addressed their daughter, perhaps because she spent so much time with the Jackspars it was assumed she was just another one of them. Regardless, when Vera’s parents fled they took the opportunity to leave her in the care of their friend, who agreed without complaint or protest. The girl did the rest of her growing up around Elizabeth, and the two grew incredibly close. She did not receive the same harsh training as Elizabeth but Ms. Jackspar did teach her a few tricks to keeping well in the settlement. -Due to an increasingly dangerous home environment, Celina sent her to "assist" Eli on-base. -Survived the assault on Smith's Rest Text Color: color=662d91 Example.
56,123	1,536	89	1,372	1,641	Joshua RayMESS HALL, NEW ANCHORAGE Ray was sitting quietly in the mess hall, finishing up his meal in the corner. He scarfed down his sandwhich earlier, and took his sweet time finishing up the soup, staring longingly into it as if it'd give him some answers. He was used to being lonely and a bit of an outsider in any group he was in, but for the entire week he... He didn't really do much outside of what was required for him. He did his best and 'scored' decently high in the obstacle course, except that one time he accidentally fell and hit their drill sergeant, Or whatever her official title was, Rebecca. 'Her name was Rebecca, right?'. He was mentally a mess right now. He couldn't remember anything specific recently, things were so monotonous. He hoped something exciting would happen. He then remembered that yes, something exciting would happen soon. Graham's 'ultimatum'. His primary question then, was severely important to him. To the point he audibly asked it, if quietly. "Who names their kid after a type of cracker anyway? I like them, but wow, at least use Bob...". He got out his logbook from his pant-pocket and wrote that down for further questioning. 'Why name kid Graham?' As Lunch was up, he quietly got up from his table, 'his' due to the fact nobody else ever ate with him yet, and went to deposit his dishes and get out of the mess-hall, to aimlessly wander the base. Alone. again. Ray sighed as he went to meander over to the restroom, 'I didn't know being part of a team could be so lonely.'. Nonetheless, as he went over to open the door, he still realized 'Well, no sense in getting attached before I'm more... officially hired anyway.' He went to relieve himself, until a woman's voice told him, "Uhh.. this is the girl's restroom?" "Oh.", He stood there awkwardly, before slowly backing out with an "Okay." After that little incident, he briskly walked to the gym. (After taking a leak in the proper room, of course.)	Joshua Ray Appearance Joshua Ray is a twenty-seven year old young man with brown eyes, long black hair in a pony-tail, and a somewhat lanky frame. He stands about six feet tall and weighs approximately 150 pounds. While he is somewhat squishy, he isn't weak in terms of strength. His skin is notably pale for a 'Surface-Dweller' due to his sheltered upbringing, and he carries himself as if he doesn't want to make a scene at most times. Age 27 Role Joshua Ray fits into both a 'Heavily-armored heavy weapons specialist' and 'High mobility demolitions' role. Due to this, his NC can fit both. Personality Joshua Ray is a kind, optimistic young man with fire and hope in his eyes, possessed by a desire to make the world a better place and wander around. That's what he'd be doing if he had any say in the matter, but a man with an NC has to eat. He dislikes doing extremely 'dirty' operations, yet is just fine being a more cunning or surreptitious sort. He's not one to talk often, but he does appreciate company, as long as they're also of the more silent type. He's easily noted for his somewhat deadpan, snarky humor and mild self-deprecating tendencies, yet maintaining a fairly friendly demeanor. However, for all of his love of justice and morality, he's a bit of a coward. Backstory Joshua Ray grew up in one of the many scattered surface settlements, in a still somewhat irradiated, yet peaceful area in one of outlying Denver-Vegas territories. Living a somewhat sheltered life, he developed a love of reading pre-war and modern stories, documents, and religious writings, not to mention a strong sense of righteousness and morality that stands with him to this day. When he was of age, he began wandering the world with his own two feet, going from continent to continent by salvaged boat or independent aerial transporters. Doing odd-jobs as needed around the world, he never lost his thirst for justice nor his hope to play a part in creating a better future for all of mankind. One day while working in a medical facility, what appeared to be an error in some minor group or another's "Neural-Combatant Compatibility" detection hardware revealed that he had the necessary mental or psychological asset that gave him the capability to control one. Calling in favors with friends and extended family, he soon found himself controlling a custom-built lightweight NC known as the Apollo, after an absolutely ancient group or project that apparently resulted in men landing on the moon overhead. While originally built from scrap at a junkyard and using hand-me-down Neural Nets and software, over three years the Apollo turned into the heavily armed and armored beast it is today. Eventually, however, he accepted all the independent contracts that he was any interested in, and decided to finally fall into a larger group. Going from one corporate army to another, he now waits to see if New Anchorage wants him or not. Tactical Preference & Skills Ray is highly adept at high-speed pursuit and maneuvering, managing heavy weapons, and bracing/fidgeting before impact to reduce the lethality of enemy attacks. His best skill, however, is his ability to determine the situation he's in and the safest way out if need be. Notes Joshua Ray's favorite pastimes include star-gazing, reading ancient and modern documents and stories, and finally contemplating with others about the universe and humanity's place. Not to mention video games. Text Color ff4c4c Apollo 'Heavy' AppearanceThe red Apollo 'Heavy' is a somewhat bulky heavily armored unit with many reaction control verniers and weapon mountings. While a thicker example of an NC, it is still a fairly sleek and well-rounded unit, armor able to render most non-specialist weapons fairly useless. Body & Type The Apollo is a heavily armed and armored bipedal type, with additional jets compared to most other heavy NC's, giving it a decent amount of maneuverability for its weight class. Although, it's still not particularly quick in a straight line. The NC itself stands at a mighty 26 meters, towering over medium weights and lightweights, although just a bit on the short side for fellow heavies. Equipment & Armaments The Apollo 'Heavy' is very well armed, with weapons and equipment including: One right-handed custom-built heavy particle rifle, firing deadly globs of hydrogen based plasma. It has a very high rate of fire for a weapon of its class and individual shot-strength, and has additional heatsinks compared to your standard plasma weapon. Due to these qualities, it's a very good suppression and anti-NC weapon, although its long range abilities are moot, and it can only reasonably fire when the NC is maneuvering slower. Made out of a combination of Paragon, Volkov, and Magen parts. Six 1 meter diameter missile racks on the back 'wings', these can take many types of warheads and missile bodies, although Ray usually loads them with long-range anti-armor missiles. 1 Heavy siege-shield, fitted with heat-resistant coating and sharpened to the point it can be used similar to a 'Pile-bunker' gauntlet. Fitted on the left arm with a gauntlet, leaving the hand free. 1 left-handed kinetic sniper rifle with a belt-feed. Based using Denver-Vegas parts, this rifle has a very long operational range and can easily damage most NC's and slow, armored targets like bunkers or naval ships. 2 hip-mounted Thermal Cleavers, each with a pointed tip, allowing them to slash and stab with equal ability. They are generally folded up like a butterfly knife on each hip, unless in use. One is as long as the NC's arm, and the other is about half as long, similar to a Katana and Wakizashi pair, although the blades are straight and less fancy. The Apollo is also equipped with an array of chaff-launchers, fitted with four charges of a special type of chaff that interferes with infrared and RADAR targeted weapons, while also reducing the capability of laser or particle arms. Finally, all of the units' ammunition is stored on a large backpack right beneath the units' thruster 'wings', with two feeds connecting to the Apollo's plasma caster and sniper-rifle, pumping hydrogen and sending large caliber bullets respectively. Fuel is stored inside tanks within the Apollo's legs and the sides of the chest. Unique Feature In an emergency, the heavy armor plating, extraneous thrusters and power-routing cables powering them can be ejected by the heavy clamps and occasional electromagnets that hold them in place. This results in the Apollo 'Heavy' effectively turning into the Apollo 'Light', with changed features below. Apollo 'Light' Appearance The Apollo Light is a thinly armored NC that is in all actuality just the frame for a much larger one, yet able to act independently. Standing two meters lower than its original form, the Apollo-Light is still taller then most average NC's, yet less so. The Apollo Heavy's shield divides in two at the middle, and combines with the now armorless wing-portion to form two large 'binders' on the backside. The motions of these in flight can severely enhance the rotational and maneuverability based capabilities of the NC. Body & Type The Apollo-Light is nearly armorless in comparison to the Heavy form, but the power generator, now having to feed a smaller amount of turbojets maneuvering a lighter NC, can overdrive the aforementioned for even more speed. Of course, the now 'needlessly heavy' systems installed do weigh it down to the point it's not as fast as it could be if optimized. Equipment & Armaments Much less heavily armed compared to the Apollo 'Heavy', the inner frame of which is only armed with its sniper rifle and plasma-caster, but its ammunition backpack is still in place, alongside its shield, although technically. Of course, with the armorless wings being able to move, they can still assist in defense. Theoretically, if need be, the connection ports powering the other weapons can send electrical arcs through the air like a tesla-coil, but Ray never tried that before in mild fear. Notes Compared to the 'Heavy form', the 'Light' Apollo is much more worthy as a scout or any other position that requires stealth, with a boxier and thinner design. If needed, it could be outfitted with RADAR-absorbent coating and act as reconnaissance unit.
56,124	1,536	90	923	5,303	GRAHAMCOMMANDER GRAHAM's OFFICE, NEW ANCHORAGE AFTERNOON “Are you sure? It’s only been nine days. I’m surprised you’ll be opting out of your contract.” Michael Graham crossed his arms as he looked across from his desk— the black matted hair of the pilot known as Alexander Sky looking back at him with a look of unease. Out of all of the new pilots he had contracted that arrived nine days ago, Alexander Sky, much like Yeshua Horowitz was on the last of suspects to request a dismissal. But while Yeshua gave him little comprehensive reasoning Alex seemed to be the exact opposite as he glanced around the office nervously. Graham thought maybe he could convince him to stay on as a pilot if it was a problem with his confidence in Graham or the incident with Dupoint in the Mess Hall— an incident that had led to him reclusing into his quarters when it wasn’t mandatory to be elsewhere. The young man grabbed the cuff of his jacket, straightening it out as if to calm his nerves before responding to Graham outright. “I’m not opting out of my contract—” He muttered under his breath as he moved his eyes from a nearby wall to look back at Graham. Alexander was mostly definitely nervous, but that’s not what caused Graham to reach for the handgun that was underneath his desk, holstered in case a conflict came when he could not properly react due to his position behind his desk. He hoped his gut feeling was wrong— but he had been in similar situations with raiders and fellow comrades. The mania of conflict and the crisis of ideology was one he had seen cause others to instinctively react with a viciousness that befitted monsters. Alexander was letting his past define his present and as a byproduct was likely to pull the trigger as soon as he drew his handgun— Graham’s eyes moved to Alexander’s belt where he could see the Red Star-issued handgun that the black-haired pilot and soldier hadn’t parted with. He returned his glance to look at Alexander so he didn’t notice that Graham was looking at his body language as hostile. “I know who you are and I know what you are doing, Graham. I thought my instincts were wrong when I stepped off the tram, I thought that you couldn’t possibly be what was hunting me, I thought you could be someone I could respect and admire. But you just want to turn me into a slave again— you want to enslave New Anchorage. I know it. I’ve seen people like you at Red Star. You almost tricked me.” Graham’s brows narrowed as Alex looked at him with a nervous confidence. “I’m not sure what you’re on about, Sky. You have the wrong idea.” “Do I? Your military ‘administration’ has turned soldiers into obedient little drones, threatening that if anyone steps out of line gets thrown down if not killed— the soldier at the Mess Hall? T-That’s proof of it. I should’ve been allowed to object to your treatment of Percy! Your order is not absolute… and definitely not perfect. You’re holding chains and I won’t be swayed by your lies. You may not believe in morality— but let me tell you that it exists and it was only going to be a matter of time before someone stepped up to oppose you. I’m not going to let you enslave these people. New Anchorage will be liberated from this junta you want to create… I should’ve told the others but they will understand after you’re dead. We’ll elect someone else… someone better.” Graham kicked himself up to his feet— handgun raised at Alex. “Think about this, Sky. It does not go down well for you.” “Heh… should’ve known you’d be ready. That won’t matter. I will rescue everyone.” Graham cursed to himself as he saw Alexander reach for his own handgun. Damn it. BANG! BANG! THUD!	NPC DOSSIERS \| NEW ANCHORAGE NPCs \| Commander Michael Graham Commanding Officer & Operations Director “I don’t believe in children’s fantasies of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, I believe in the absolute principle of order— a concept that promotes excellence, professionalism, integrity, organization, and heart. Order doesn’t allow fantasy, order allows you to be happy with your reality.” Name Michael A. Graham Appearance Commander Graham is a man that looks a decade younger than he appears, which is a bit of an oddity in his profession. Standing at six foot even and a rigorously sculpted physique Graham has proven that age is not a factor in the efforts of a professional soldier. Accompanied by dark blue-black hair that is drawn to mid-length and faded brown eyes, Graham despite the intensity he invokes is not abrasive to look at which in the past he had used to his advantage to get the wits on several enemies including rough-edged females of the criminal element. Graham has few preferences for attire— a uniform when it is available, or a loose synthweave jacket and military-fitted clothing for alternative “casual” situations. Age Forty-Three Role Operations Director Personality Claiming to have no place for childish fantasies of morality, Michael Graham serves to believe strictly in the concept of order as in his eyes it is the only answer to life. As a military commander Graham has been called ruthless, strict, abrasive, absolutist, and demanding— all of which are, in part, true to his character. Caring not for how people see him, Graham prescribes to a militarized belief of organization, rigorous expectation, and self-fulfillment through commitment. However, he is not so simply defined as a military drone given he has explored the world with a bit of a wanderlust that harkens back to his days as an aggressive and unruly NC pilot youth. Graham’s nuances and depth will be truly hard to uncover, though, as it seems as he isn’t privy to sharing. Backstory Michael Aldous Graham was born in the mega-city known as Las Vegas in 2634 within the jurisdiction of the Denver-Vegas Corporation. As an orphaned child, Graham ████████████████████████████ and was enlisted at age of seven years old and was administered to a military camp for training children. This allowed a form of ███████ to recruits to groom them into the ideal soldier. During a mandatory study of a psychological exam it was discovered that Graham was born with the ability to pilot NC’s. He was then sent off to a NC-specialized variant of the camp to which he met many like-minded children of his age and bonded with many of them. Throughout his time at the camp he was discovered to be one of the top three recruits of 2642. The others being ███████ and ███████. The three would become known as Denver-Vegas’ “Blood Trinity” as they became a force of reckoning. Starting in 2647 at The Skirmish of Andreas Fault. Sent in to deal with Red-Star insurgents that had began to encroach on Denver-Vegas territory beyond their corporate holdings in California, Graham and his comrades were said to “single-handedly” win the skirmish, though records are incomplete as sensor array camera footage has been buried in Denver-Vegas archives. As the dispute between Red-Star and Denver-Vegas continued Graham and his comrades gained prestige as the battles got more destructive and chaotic. By the end of the war the trinity had earned a reputation that would cement itself in legend— a status that would be tested when Graham found himself in a one-on-one skirmish with veteran independent pilot Agatha Smith. Following the Andreas Dispute War, Graham was thrown back into the thick of it not long after when Denver-Vegas declared war on the Volkov Corporation who had “unfairly” acquired Elysian Dream. Seven long years poured into the war and at the end of it the death of ███████ by the hands of a Volkov pilot by the name of ███████. Unsurprisingly, the death was earth-shaking for both Graham and ███████, who began to see that they weren’t as invulnerable as they were led to believe. Following the death of one trinity member Denver-Vegas found their battles going downhill against Volkov’s tactical advances and eventually they sued for peace. Elysian Dream remained in Volkov hands. In the time since the Elysian War, Graham found himself earning several promotions such as first officer, field captain, squadron commander, and operations commander. However, for reasons unknown Graham resigned from Denver-Vegas in 2673, opting to work independently. His record suggests operations collaborating with Fairbanks, Paragon, and smaller independents— never sticking around for long. New Anchorage hopes he will stay on permanently. Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran Military Commander Experienced NC Pilot Adept with Tactical Analysis Expert Marksman CQC Expertise Notes Graham absolutely detests nicknames— he will reprimand those who do not refer to him as commander, sir, or his surname. There has few people who he has tolerated nicknames from in his past and they are no longer part of his life. Graham has two adult children he knows about, aged 21 and 18. He has employed both of them. Dr. Herbert Bonheur Head of Medicine “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. Forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad.” Name Herbert H. Bonheur Appearance TBA Age Forty-Six Role Head of Medicine Personality Bonheur is admittedly rather obtuse given that his way of thinking isn’t exactly easy to understand by others; even fellow doctors. Coupled with a loose, casual demeanor and mannerisms that lead many to believe that the years of caffeine-induced dieting has led him to speak similar that may be a bit too quick for people to generally follow. Some consider Bonheur “insane” whilst others consider him “eccentric” but despite his terrible bedside manner and his abrasively blunt way of dealing with things Bonheur’s methods seems to always work. Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Best Medicial Pracitioner in Alaska Skilled Pharmacist Veteran Surgeon Notes TBA Dr. James Lofgren Head of NC Analysis “With only one minute to spare and you took down an opponent who seemed to have all of the advantages. Fascinating.” Name James M. Lofgren Appearance TBA Age Thirty-One Role NC Analyst Neurosurgeon Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Well-tested NC Analyst Skilled Neurosurgeon Skilled Psychologist & Therapist Notes TBA Valdislav Kuznetsov Head of Engineering “Quote” Name Valdislav S. Kuznetsov Appearance TBA Age Fifty-Five Role Senior Engineering Officer Mechanic Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Notes TBA Matthew Alvarez Operations Administrator “Your complaints are unfounded, I assure you that everything is going according to plan. Sit down.” Name Matthew L. Alvarez Appearance TBA Age Twenty-Six Role Operations Administrator Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Eidetic Memory Veteran Administrative Assistant Skilled Clerk Notes TBA Katarina Poux Engineering Officer “I just wish there was a way these beautiful machines could be used for good and not evil. There is such opportunity for them to be utilized for good.” Name Katarina “Kat” Poux Appearance Katarina is easy on the eyes when she is cleaned up, but due to her constant tweaking of machinery she tends to have a oil and dust-spotted appearance. Her hair is black that is worn long or in a messy ponytail depending on her time management and awareness. Her eyes are a perceptive hazel and her choices of attire are generally engineering jumpsuits and uniforms; rarely does Katarina remember what it was like to wear loose ‘feminine’ type clothing. Katarina is about average height for her ethnicity and age, setting in at around 5’6”. Age Twenty-Five Role Junior Engineering Officer Personality Katarina is upbeat and chirpy despite her “muddy” profession, choosing to be welcoming and optimistic rather than cynical and realistic. Whilst some might consider her an annoyance, her energy and emotions do set a mood amongst the engineering staff that leads to a good morale boost. However, with the shadow of death this disposition can be damaged and inverted; thus revealing a sort of “hot” and “cold” dynamic to her personality. However, Katarina tries very hard to not be downbeat and thinks things forward and not backward; she had done such dwelling on negative emotions when she was younger after all. Backstory The daughter of a NC pilot and a weapons engineer, Kat has been surrounded by big machines with complex machinery her entire life. A background that would bring the young girl to study all things mechanical and electrical which led to an astute understanding of mechs and traditional armored vehicles alike. Around the age of thirteen years old the world revealed itself to be much more harsh than she had been led to believe despite her parents professions being blatantly a product of their warlike environment. This tragedy was the death of her mother, Piana, when her independent NC was overwhelmed in combat. The effects of said death would bring her father to alcoholism and retirement from working on new NC weapon schematics and prototypes. Kat would go on following in the footsteps of who her father was before the accident and became an exceptional mechanic and designer in her own right., though she couldn’t seem to escape stigmas about her or her family wherever she went. By the age of twenty, following her instruction as an engineer she found herself in the employ of one of the big corporations: Fairbanks. Several months ago she quit her position as an aspiring engineer at Fairbanks due to various reasons and found herself in league with New Anchorage. Tactical Preference & Skills Skilled NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Weapons Designer Notes TBA Ingram Kalfox Financial & Intelligence Agent “It is so nice to see the youth looking optimistically towards their future— and the more ruthless of us trying to redeem their path in life. It brings hope for our time.” Name Ingram Kalfox Appearance TBA Age 43-56 Role Operations Economist Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Comprehensive Knowledge of International NC Pilots Skilled Businessman & Economist Notes TBA Rebecca Marek Operations Commander “---” Name Rebecca “Reb” Marek Appearance TBA Age 28-36 Role Military Commander Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Experienced Soldier & Military Commander Veteran Anti-NC Special Operations Unit Talented in Tactical Analysis Skilled in CQC Marksman Notes TBA
56,125	1,536	91	1,700	2,624	T A H L I A S T Y L E S Shooting Range - New Anchorage BANG! BANG! THUD! A red splatter exploded from the target that Tahlia could see down the very end of her sights. With a limp drop and a roll to one of the sides with what was left of the bloody mess, she made grin... a grin of satisfaction for murdering an element out of her life that she had come to hate oh so much. "Never did like watermelons," she joked to herself as she pulled the bolt back on her rifle and ejected the shell casing. With everything that had been going on during the week and how she had told her mechanics about her son, Tahlia needed to just simply vent some frustration and remember what it was like to cause a mess with such a deadly device. It was a rare thing to experience when you operated an NC and it came down to one key factor... you rarely saw the person's death. Not seeing someone's death was something that the woman had grown accustomed to. Being the ranged attacker that she was and sitting as far back on the battlefield as possible, Tahlia only saw the deaths of her targets through the map information that her NC and the Drone issued to her. A disappearing dot on a radar screen, a fading light like the light of someone's life. Tahlia pulled out the magazine and disarmed the rifle before placing it onto the table next to where she was lying prone. She hit a buzzer button on the wall, triggering a loud siren and a strobe light that began flashing just in front of her booth. Throwing her jacket over her body and pulling up the hood, she began the long walk down to where her fruit corpse was splattered. As she walked she felt rather exposed to the elements and dangers that an NC protected her from. Sure there were people supervising the range and she had done everything correctly as to not cop a stray bullet in the back, but that wouldn't necessarily stop someone with a vendetta. She didn't know what her reputation might be in a place like this and if there was a price on her head from one of the other companies. I know Graham at some point is going to ask about my history. The thought went through her head like a nail. Both painful and certain. The longer she stayed here, the more everyone would find out about her secrets and the way Red Star operated. Would they fear her, loath her, pity her? "Tahlia... Shut the fuck up!" she swore as she came up to the victim of such a horrendous murder, looking down at a watery death. The Australian kneeled down, placing her finger in the ooze and scooping up a bit towards her mouth before taking a lick. A shudder went down her spine with the sweet flavour that she hated oh so much. "Even metho wouldn't salvage the taste of this shit."	Name: Jan van Gent Appearance:Jan stands at 1.65 meters tall. He has fair skin, dark-blonde hair styled shortly and combed to the side. He has little standards concerning the clothes he wears, usually wearing whatever he managed to get on the cheap from a clothes vendor. The only criterium to him is that something needs to be functional. It doesn't need to be pretty or graceful, it just needs to work. Age: 27 Role: Flanking/ counter-CQC Personality :A rash and boorish man by nature. Jan is a spirited individual with a somewhat cruel streak to his actions. He doesn't particularly mind if other people are served by his actions, but is ultimately mostly in it for himself. Despite this though, he places great value on loyalty and mutual respect, even if it is for the slightly pragmatic reason that a long-time partner is the best partner. Backstory: A storied and grizzled independent. Jan van Gent was never part of the big five, instead operating with all sorts of factions all over the world as a mercenary contractor. He has probably fought with and against every major player on the current global stage, switching allegiances in quieter periods when hsi current employer's funds dried up, though always taking care not to antagonize anyone enough to draw the wrong sort of attention. A recent stint as a volkov subcontractor saw Jan assigned to New Anchorage. Political machinations above his control then saw volkvov retract their support, with jan's contract being terminated in the fallout. Jan simply shrugged and renegotiated a direct contract with New Anchorage's commander. Just another day on the job. Tactical Preference & Skills: Jan has great proficiency and experience at spotting and exploiting oppurtunities in a tactical situation. He has very good aim with all equipped weapons even at high speeds. He can concentrate on whatever his current target is without anything feasibly breaking his stride, though he is suspectible to a sort of tactical tunnel vision as well. Notes: Jan returns from the previous thread. Text Color: None due to player bias/laziness NC Codename: Goldenspur Appearance: The goldenspur is a grizzled mercenary machine, much like its pilot. Its frame is painted a muted black with gold details. While standing upright, its silhoutte is very visible due to its signature custom-built shoulder plates, somewhat resembling the skeletal wings of the winged hussar cavalry of old. These shoulder plates are folded over the NC's backside when in standby, but stretch to their full impressive length when shoulder weapons are deployed. Body & Type: A medium-class tank body. Original manufacturer is difficult to determine due to the amount of disparate custom parts mixed and matched to create the NC. Armor plating has been stripped and replaced with ligther variants on all sides save for the front to allow for greater manouverability. The NC has the unusual ability to fold downwards into a threaded tank-vehicle designed for speed and getaways. Equipment & Armaments: Goldenspur's main armament is a high-power plasma lance designed to punch through heavy armor and inflict catastrphic damage on internal systems. It requires a long pre-charge time and consumes most of the reactor's energy output when fired, also requiring a cooldown period afterwards. The goldenspur has two standard grade gimballed autoguns mounted on its shoulders. Energy consumption on them is low, and the caliber is sufficient to deal with most non-NC targets as well as posing a threat to NCs with lighter armor. In terms of defensive measures, the goldenspur has a standardized ECM array to deal with fire and forget missiles, a radar dampening coating on its armor, and a set of smoke launchers to disrupt visual contact. The smoke has a peculiar chemical composition that disperses lasers fired through it.
56,126	1,536	92	1,372	1,641	Joshua Ray, Joe VeronaCORRIDOR, NEW ANCHORAGE Joshua Ray was wandering the halls, steering himself vaguely towards the gymnasium but deciding to just enjoy the view walking there, metaphorically. The air inside was a bit still and too recycled in his opinion, and noting this he wondered if Graham was a Burrower. He was pretty sure Burrows were like that. He probably controlled the 'environment' inside the base, being the overall Commander. Nonetheless, his temporarily aimless floating about resulted in him seeing another Plugger just like himself. He then went up behind this Plugger, quietly, then made sure he was seen and heard with a simple, "Hello.". He walked with this one for a few moments, before deciding to stop and have a conversation. "Can we talk?" Joe Verona, who was heading to the administrative area of the base at the moment, responded to the "Hello." with a surprised "Y-Yes? How can I—", before he was interrupted by the same person. "I don't see why we couldn't talk, at least until our paths split again." Joshua attempted to break the ice. "I agree. I'm Joshua, you?" "Verona, Joe Verona. Nice to meet you." Joshua continued the conversation of few-words with his own name. "Ray, Joshua Ray. Nice to meet you too, Verona. So, what NC do you pilot? I pilot the Apollo Heavy, big red one?" "I think I recall seeing that one in the hangar. I myself pilot the Swarm, Unit 01. You have probably seen it already on your way through the hangar." Nodding, Joshua said, then asked, "You're correct. Haven't you been trying to get a little unique system installed on it properly? Mind enlightening me?" A bit flattered by Joshua's interest, and with a bit of pride about his idea, Joe answered: "In fact I have been and still am. Considering your interest, you have probably noticed how most of it is just speakers." "Yep, from my knowledge that's a giveaway that you're trying to make some sort of sonic weapon. I presume you're attempting to create a.. I forgot the name, but the type of weapon that uses soundwaves to damage the target? With that I presume you're not one to let things go to waste!" Just like Joe, Joshua seemed a tad excited about the concept. He addended his previous statement with a, "I'm not sure if those even exist, in mass-production anyway." "Indeed. It is basically an upscaled LRAD, so it has more volume over a larger distance, however it won't just use sheer volume to blow out the enemy's eardrums." Playfully 'dissapointed' and with a smirk, "So it won't be able to drop the bass?", Joshua questioned. With a chuckle Joe corrected "It could, but it wouldn't be of use, unless the enemy is allergic to bass." Joshua chuckled along. He was just happy he found a new acquaintance. He nodded to let Joe know to continue speaking. "In any case, it's main use should be causing destructive resonance in an enemy's NC's frame or skeleton, whichever you call it. The best analogy I'd have would be me somehow breaking all your bones without harming any soft tissue in the slightest." He added rather silently: "Damage from subsequent collapse of the body not included." Joshua smirked and snarked "I definitely needed the mental image of somebody collapsing as his bones cracked because somebody dropped all the bass at once. No nightmares from me, no sirree.". He tried to finalize this part of the conversation with a, "Nonetheless, really sounds like a very useful weapon. Should work wonders against enemy NC's, mostly because then we'll be able to just scoop up the parts. That'll be humorous." "It would definetly be. One of its advantages is, that it can't be dodged, unless the enemy is miles away, although it will take time to deal enough damage. The other main advantage is as you stated, although it also leaves any enemy's dead hand switches intact." "Yeah, that'd be sort of horrifying. Should remind the salvaging team or what-have-you to wear a bombsuit.". The two were outside where Joe was headed, the entrance to the administrative area, and Joshua simply nodded as he left Joe to do that. Two gunshots rang out, presumably from the shooting range. Joshua continued his wanderings, and changed his destination to the firing range, to see who was shooting what.	Joshua Ray Appearance Joshua Ray is a twenty-seven year old young man with brown eyes, long black hair in a pony-tail, and a somewhat lanky frame. He stands about six feet tall and weighs approximately 150 pounds. While he is somewhat squishy, he isn't weak in terms of strength. His skin is notably pale for a 'Surface-Dweller' due to his sheltered upbringing, and he carries himself as if he doesn't want to make a scene at most times. Age 27 Role Joshua Ray fits into both a 'Heavily-armored heavy weapons specialist' and 'High mobility demolitions' role. Due to this, his NC can fit both. Personality Joshua Ray is a kind, optimistic young man with fire and hope in his eyes, possessed by a desire to make the world a better place and wander around. That's what he'd be doing if he had any say in the matter, but a man with an NC has to eat. He dislikes doing extremely 'dirty' operations, yet is just fine being a more cunning or surreptitious sort. He's not one to talk often, but he does appreciate company, as long as they're also of the more silent type. He's easily noted for his somewhat deadpan, snarky humor and mild self-deprecating tendencies, yet maintaining a fairly friendly demeanor. However, for all of his love of justice and morality, he's a bit of a coward. Backstory Joshua Ray grew up in one of the many scattered surface settlements, in a still somewhat irradiated, yet peaceful area in one of outlying Denver-Vegas territories. Living a somewhat sheltered life, he developed a love of reading pre-war and modern stories, documents, and religious writings, not to mention a strong sense of righteousness and morality that stands with him to this day. When he was of age, he began wandering the world with his own two feet, going from continent to continent by salvaged boat or independent aerial transporters. Doing odd-jobs as needed around the world, he never lost his thirst for justice nor his hope to play a part in creating a better future for all of mankind. One day while working in a medical facility, what appeared to be an error in some minor group or another's "Neural-Combatant Compatibility" detection hardware revealed that he had the necessary mental or psychological asset that gave him the capability to control one. Calling in favors with friends and extended family, he soon found himself controlling a custom-built lightweight NC known as the Apollo, after an absolutely ancient group or project that apparently resulted in men landing on the moon overhead. While originally built from scrap at a junkyard and using hand-me-down Neural Nets and software, over three years the Apollo turned into the heavily armed and armored beast it is today. Eventually, however, he accepted all the independent contracts that he was any interested in, and decided to finally fall into a larger group. Going from one corporate army to another, he now waits to see if New Anchorage wants him or not. Tactical Preference & Skills Ray is highly adept at high-speed pursuit and maneuvering, managing heavy weapons, and bracing/fidgeting before impact to reduce the lethality of enemy attacks. His best skill, however, is his ability to determine the situation he's in and the safest way out if need be. Notes Joshua Ray's favorite pastimes include star-gazing, reading ancient and modern documents and stories, and finally contemplating with others about the universe and humanity's place. Not to mention video games. Text Color ff4c4c Apollo 'Heavy' AppearanceThe red Apollo 'Heavy' is a somewhat bulky heavily armored unit with many reaction control verniers and weapon mountings. While a thicker example of an NC, it is still a fairly sleek and well-rounded unit, armor able to render most non-specialist weapons fairly useless. Body & Type The Apollo is a heavily armed and armored bipedal type, with additional jets compared to most other heavy NC's, giving it a decent amount of maneuverability for its weight class. Although, it's still not particularly quick in a straight line. The NC itself stands at a mighty 26 meters, towering over medium weights and lightweights, although just a bit on the short side for fellow heavies. Equipment & Armaments The Apollo 'Heavy' is very well armed, with weapons and equipment including: One right-handed custom-built heavy particle rifle, firing deadly globs of hydrogen based plasma. It has a very high rate of fire for a weapon of its class and individual shot-strength, and has additional heatsinks compared to your standard plasma weapon. Due to these qualities, it's a very good suppression and anti-NC weapon, although its long range abilities are moot, and it can only reasonably fire when the NC is maneuvering slower. Made out of a combination of Paragon, Volkov, and Magen parts. Six 1 meter diameter missile racks on the back 'wings', these can take many types of warheads and missile bodies, although Ray usually loads them with long-range anti-armor missiles. 1 Heavy siege-shield, fitted with heat-resistant coating and sharpened to the point it can be used similar to a 'Pile-bunker' gauntlet. Fitted on the left arm with a gauntlet, leaving the hand free. 1 left-handed kinetic sniper rifle with a belt-feed. Based using Denver-Vegas parts, this rifle has a very long operational range and can easily damage most NC's and slow, armored targets like bunkers or naval ships. 2 hip-mounted Thermal Cleavers, each with a pointed tip, allowing them to slash and stab with equal ability. They are generally folded up like a butterfly knife on each hip, unless in use. One is as long as the NC's arm, and the other is about half as long, similar to a Katana and Wakizashi pair, although the blades are straight and less fancy. The Apollo is also equipped with an array of chaff-launchers, fitted with four charges of a special type of chaff that interferes with infrared and RADAR targeted weapons, while also reducing the capability of laser or particle arms. Finally, all of the units' ammunition is stored on a large backpack right beneath the units' thruster 'wings', with two feeds connecting to the Apollo's plasma caster and sniper-rifle, pumping hydrogen and sending large caliber bullets respectively. Fuel is stored inside tanks within the Apollo's legs and the sides of the chest. Unique Feature In an emergency, the heavy armor plating, extraneous thrusters and power-routing cables powering them can be ejected by the heavy clamps and occasional electromagnets that hold them in place. This results in the Apollo 'Heavy' effectively turning into the Apollo 'Light', with changed features below. Apollo 'Light' Appearance The Apollo Light is a thinly armored NC that is in all actuality just the frame for a much larger one, yet able to act independently. Standing two meters lower than its original form, the Apollo-Light is still taller then most average NC's, yet less so. The Apollo Heavy's shield divides in two at the middle, and combines with the now armorless wing-portion to form two large 'binders' on the backside. The motions of these in flight can severely enhance the rotational and maneuverability based capabilities of the NC. Body & Type The Apollo-Light is nearly armorless in comparison to the Heavy form, but the power generator, now having to feed a smaller amount of turbojets maneuvering a lighter NC, can overdrive the aforementioned for even more speed. Of course, the now 'needlessly heavy' systems installed do weigh it down to the point it's not as fast as it could be if optimized. Equipment & Armaments Much less heavily armed compared to the Apollo 'Heavy', the inner frame of which is only armed with its sniper rifle and plasma-caster, but its ammunition backpack is still in place, alongside its shield, although technically. Of course, with the armorless wings being able to move, they can still assist in defense. Theoretically, if need be, the connection ports powering the other weapons can send electrical arcs through the air like a tesla-coil, but Ray never tried that before in mild fear. Notes Compared to the 'Heavy form', the 'Light' Apollo is much more worthy as a scout or any other position that requires stealth, with a boxier and thinner design. If needed, it could be outfitted with RADAR-absorbent coating and act as reconnaissance unit.
56,127	1,536	93	1,524	552	VERABARRACKS, NEW ANCHORAGE WITH STEIN It had been a long and rather eventful day. The thought occured to Vera as she made her way through the corridors of the barracks, her mind wandering as she did so. While the small spat was certainly fresh and though she’d be stopping to see Ana first thing in the morning if she could, what truly concerned her was the morning’s events in the simulation labs with Dr. Lofgren. The results had come out positive— a fact that even she knew the rarity of being. It sent shivers of excitement through her veins, but beyond that excitement there was also fear. Not for the possible future, but for Lizzy; for what she might think, what she might say, and what she might do. All of it was supposed to be just one big “if” but the more she thought about it the smaller that “if” became. She’d been waiting all day, or maybe longer, to knock on Stein’s door. As she approached the door it slid open, as it had been set to an unlocked “open entry” sort of position. Vera’s eyes moved upward as the figure of the person she had come to see hung from the rafters with her legs wrapped around one of the supports for the ceiling, her hair drawn loose as it dropped towards the floor; Stein’s cerulean eyes looking towards Vera. A second later, Stein continued what she was doing as she crunched upwards as she continued the exercise she had been doing. “Vera.” She commented as she moved forward into a crunch. The younger girl’s eyes lit up, her apprehension vanishing in an instant, in favor of a familiar grin. ”Woah.” She muttered, before remembering herself. ”Uh... can I come in? S’not a bad time right?” “The door is unlocked.” The older woman commented, as if openly inviting the girl in. “If it was a bad time the door would be locked or I would be in my NC.” Vera didn’t mind the flat response, it was familiar and, despite the coldness, she found a comfort in it. With a spring in her step she entered, shutting the door behind her. ”Actually do you mind if I lock it?” Stein stopped her exercise as she asked and shot the girl a quizzical expression. “I don’t see why not. Is there something wrong?” ”Nothing’s, well…” Vera inhaled, sharp and long as she began trying to think of what to say and how to say it. She wasn’t afraid or even intimidated— she liked Stein and definitely trusted her, but she wasn’t exactly used to venting out her worries. At least not ones that concerned her. Vera made her way to the bed, but didn’t hop onto it, and instead plopped down on the floor to lean against its base. ”Ana and I had our uh...y’know, you remember Graham saying we were gonna be tested? We got tested and, well, we passed.” Vera exhaled, that was half of it at least. “I had absolutely no doubt.” Vera smiled, proud, happy, but she wasn’t done. ”So...I think I want to do it.” “What’s stopping you from doing it?” The acceptance was a relief. Vera wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but the fact that Stein didn’t lead with “don’t” helped to settle her. ”I dunno, a lot, I guess. Nothing. It’s my choice, Graham says, Lof says, everyone says. That’s supposed to be a good thing, right? It’s good to choose, right?” “I wouldn’t know, personally. I didn’t... get many options when I was younger. I suppose Percy and some others would think choice is good, but they might think their choice is yours and try to tell you what to do. But if Graham says it is your choice, it is your choice. He doesn’t seem the type to lie as far as I can tell.” Vera nodded. ”I know. I think I trust Graham, Ana doesn’t like him but I understand. I trust Lizzy too, I know she wouldn’t force it either way, and Percy...I dunno, I don’t think he’d bother, he’s got enough to worry about. I feel bad for him y’know? I…” She stopped, giggled quietly. ”Sorry, I didn’t mean to come here and talk your ear off.” “Oh, I think you did. But no, I don’t mind if it’s you.” Stein commented as she continued her exercises in the rafters, simultaneously holding conversation as she did so. The younger girl’s grin split wider, she looked to the ground and let her laugh spill out louder. ”That’s really cool, y’know, how you do that. I dunno, you’re really cool, you earned being cool, does that make sense? Maybe not.” “We’re equals. It has nothing to do with being ‘cool’. There is no reason I should talk down to you like Moore does.” ”I guess you’re right. Moore... Percy’s a dad though, I think I can understand where he’s coming from.” “I don’t. He uses that as an excuse.” Stein’s brows narrowed if Vera could see them, her tone darkening for a moment. “Just like all fathers, he’s manipulative and thinks his child is his slave; as if it is his right.” The venom in Stein’s comment caused Vera to pause for a moment, smile fading. Although she nodded sympathetically she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe Stein’s words. ”I get it, yeah. Not all dad’s are good people, s’not a free ticket or anything. I dunno if Ana’s a slave though, he doesn’t hurt her, doesn’t call her names, doesn’t...I don’t think he’s really a bad person, I think he’s just scared. I think everyone here gets a little scared, even Graham. Heck, even I’m scared sometimes, if you can believe it,” She smiled, trying to bring the lightness back to her voice. “True. There are times where I can… relate.” ”A’course ya can, silly, we’re people. That’s the great thing about it, we can all sorta get what we’re feeling. Might take some time, some practice, but it’s there.” “So, what are you going to do about you compatibility? Are you going to Graham first? or Jackspar?” Vera ran a hand under her hat and through her hair. That was the tough question. A bit guiltily she thought she might not tell Lizzy until she was stepping into an NC, but she knew she couldn’t get away with that, and wasn’t what she’d actually want to do anyway. ”Guess I’d go to Lizzy first. I’m kinda spooked, I know she won’t stop me but I...guess maybe that’s what’s got me. I think what I want is just, for someone to tell me it’s okay to do this, okay to want this, even if I know it’s not.” Vera slumped back, pulling her knees in close and resting her chin atop them. ”I know it’s dumb, I shouldn’t need that, I’m old enough to be able to stand on my own two feet.” “You want Jackspar’s respect and approval.” ”Yours wouldn’t hurt?” she asked, soft. “Heh. You don't have to worry about that; you’ve always had my respect and approval. You might be different from me… in a lot of ways, but even during my first day here at New Anchorage I gave you that.” Vera smiled again, a warmer, tamer kind. Her thoughts were still heavy, but it would be a bitter lie to say Stein’s words weren’t giving her a good lift. ”What do you think the surgery’ll be like?” “The greatest pain you will ever feel in your life. You’re older than I was when I had mine so you will undoubtedly be more resilient, stronger, more capable.” Stein took a heavy breath before removing herself from the rafters and making it back down to the floor; gripping her hair before drawing it back into a pair of twin tail’s which she’d clip with a metal band. “It’s an experience.” ”When you did it, did you cry?” “I did. I cried a lot— it was the second worst experience of my life even with the stims that dulled the pain. I thought I was going to die right there on the table. I was nine years old, only a little older than Ana when they rended the metal into my back. It was not pleasant, but I persevered. I believe you will be no different, but there is the chance that it could turn fatal. I know you say you are ready, that you want it; but do you want to take the risk that your last breath could be on the table?” Stein replied matter-of-factly before grabbing a container of water on the countertop in her room. Second worst. Vera might have asked about it, she knew she should have, but as Stein went on she found herself more focused on the present grimness. “Yes” and “No” seemed too forward, too inadequate, it was her life after all, and if it could end on that table like Stein said, shouldn’t she put more thought into it? She looked up at Stein, bit her lip, but kept her smile. ”S’weird, right? Think of all the pilots in the world, the ones you meet, n’fight, n’kill, all of’em had the same surgery. Prolly all of’em cried. S’weird...right?” “We all enter and leave the world in the same way.” Stein commented as she took a drink of the water inside the cannister. “But as for the surgery. I didn’t have a choice, but I wouldn’t have taken any other option. I was born compatible and I found a talent in it that I didn’t have for anything else. Some people would say it was “destiny” or I was a “prodigy” but it was just how my genetics lined up. You said you wanted it, right?” Stein turned from Vera and showed her back, her free hand motioning to her spine— the circular indents visibly apparent in the blonde-haired girl’s back up to her base of the neck. “This is nothing if you want it. This is just a small obstacle.” Vera touched the back of her own neck, tracing the vertebrae where she saw Stein’s implants were. It gave her an unsettling pit in her stomach to admit she didn’t just want it, she needed it. She saw a life in those little metal additions, saw an opportunity she couldn’t afford to miss. ”Dunno if they’ll look as pretty on me,” she said. ”But guess I won’t know if I don’t try.” Stein turned back to Vera, putting a hand on her shoulder. “There is no question for me that you will be able handle it.” Vera set her hand on top of Stein’s, it felt warm, but maybe that was just her nerves. She nodded, then got up to her feet and let the older girl’s hand go. ”You’re a good person, Stein. Everything that’s happened to you, you’re you now and I’m glad you’re here.” “As strong as stone.” Stein replied, reflecting on something from her past. ”S’good to be strong, but s’also good to have nice friends. If I only ever get the one, I think I’d still be happy.” “You’d be my first in a long time. So don’t die on the table, okay?” Vera let herself giggle, she couldn’t quite help it. ”I’ll definitely try.” “I didn’t say anything about trying.” Stein smirked. Suppressing the smile as best she could, which was admittedly poor, Vera stood up straight in salute. ”Ma’am, yes ma’am.” Stein reached out and adjusted Vera’s arm into a proper salute, restraining her urge to fall into a more emotive action. “I’d go talk to Jackspar then. Good luck.” Vera adjusted her hat, nodding happily, and scurried out of the room.	Elizabeth Jackspar Age 21 Role Melee Skirmisher Appearance A life dedicated to training has left Eli with a lean, athletic form. An albino, her skin is chalk-white, her long hair a similar color, and her eyes holding a glassy-blue hue. She has a hard gaze and straight posture, like a soldier constantly at attention. Despite this, she’s prone to wearing civilian clothes when things are quiet. Scarves strike her fancy, and she’ll often wear them high on her neck over her mouth, but she’s also prone to gloves and arm warmers. Personality Cold and dismissive to anyone that isn’t her superior, compliant and dutiful to all others with an underlying layer of competitiveness beneath everything. A quick, calculating mind and fast reflexes make Eli a good soldier, but little else unfortunately. In her early teenage years, Eli began suffering from severe and sudden panic attacks, often leaving her an unresponsive wreck. Not knowing how such incidents would affect her daughter's future, her mother went to great lengths to keep the affliction a secret from future potential employers. After a handful of years the attacks decreased in both frequency and intensity without professional assistance, which made concealing them much easier. Tactical Preference/Skills Eli excels in melee combat, preferring swords to firearms and speed to durability. While her specialty is quick execution, she can handle prolonged confrontations, especially against a single opponent. Background ”Eli” Eli was eight years old when she learned her name was short for “Elizabeth”. Her mother, the librarian recluse Celina Jackspar, had used it once, the first time she’d cried during her training. ”Get up, Elizabeth. Now. And never cry in front of me again.” And she never did. The Jackspars might have been lepers for how little they interacted with the world. Confined to a modestly sized library nestled in the corner of what was then “Smith’s Rest”, few ever visited, and fewer were actually aware the spindly, aged woman had a child. With little to their name aside from cases and piles of books, it would not have been unreasonable to assume the family would contribute nothing great to the world. Celina would not allow such an outcome. The training began early, and never slackened. Eli learned from a young age what she was, and would be. She did not attend school, she did not socialize with peers, she rarely left the library at all. Her life was dedication, she had to let go of the urges to want, and focus entirely on the future. ”Up.” And she got up. The Jackspars could afford no firearms, and so forewent practicing them. Instead it was decided that Eli would master the art of melee combat in their absence. Lyosha Voloshyna, a carpenter and one of the family’s only “friends”, happily supplied them with wooden models of various swords, ranging from the typical and familiar, to the foreign and unique. Eli was made to train with them day in and day out. They would not be weapons held, they would be extensions of her own body, or she would fall short. Countless other prospective pilots had the advantage of proper training, they could afford to be merely “adequate” so long as they rounded out a checklist and passed the neural exam. ”I don’t want you on-par, I want you better. Keep going.” And she would. Hour after hour Eli practiced, submitting herself to the forms and tests of balance. By the time she was in her middle teens, picking up a sword felt like raising her hand, swinging felt like punching. Her threshold for pain was pushed further each day, and every time she kept her mouth shut, kept her face calm, she would catch the ghost of a smirk flicker over her mother’s face. Moving had become a dance, and she was the prima. When she was fifteen, a practice sword broke in her hand, splintering midway down the blade. It was old, nothing unexpected, and the shattering caused her no physical harm. All the same Eli froze, wide eyes fixated on the broken blade, and her arm, then the girl collapsed in a fit of agony. Celina watched, shocked. ”Get up.” But she didn’t. ”Elizabeth, get. Up.” But she couldn’t. It took all of her strength not to cry. It was her first major incident, and the only one Celina ever saw. It took a few years to realize they weren’t going to stop, and seeking professional psychiatric help would murder Eli’s chances at becoming a pilot, so Celina resolved to handle the situation in her own way. Eli knew Eli. Celina knew Elizabeth. ”Stop shaking.” And she would. The final years leading up to application were smooth by Celina’s standards. Her daughter was sharp, fast, resilient, and above all, obedient. She would protect Smith’s Rest, she would protect its people, and she would do so under the instruction of whosoever commanded the forces. Second to her, of course. ”Don’t disappoint me.” And she wouldn’t. -Helped defeat Knight and Rook alongside Percy Moore, Madison Cole, John Strange, and Joe Verona -Took on her younger sister, Vera, as an “assistant” -Bonded with the previous commander, Sophia -Suffered a gruesome defeat at the first assault on Smith’s Rest -Shaken by Sophia’s desertion Text Color: color=6ecff6 Example. Blur :Body-Plan: Blur is a humanoid, bipedal NC, designed to move and strike quickly. Its armor is lacking, but a myriad of thrusters allow not only for fast evasive maneuvers, but also for gap-closing on enemies. :Type/Quality: Blur is designed to be an up-close-and-personal NC, meant to close in on key targets before engaging in a melee assault. In this, Blur excels, and should the enemy be unequipped for close-range combat, they may have trouble. However range is her crux, and while Blur is good at evading enemy fire, should one corner her from far enough away, there is little she can do to get out of the situation. Though Eli would never admit it, Blur works best with, and sometimes even requires a team. :Equipment: -Sets of thrusters allowing for enhanced mobility and sustained flight. -Flare caches for more difficult evasive maneuvers. -Targeting system designed to track a single enemy and suggest/allocate NC power to close the distance in the quickest/most effective manner. Suggestions are automatic, control/execution is manual. :Armaments: -Standard-Issue NC Beam Sword -PPB-2.71 “Plasma Sword” (Purchased) -Deployable “Finger-Claws” (New-Anchorage Custom) -Set of demolition charges sized for NC's. The charges are kept as two separate components that are combined individually in their storage to become armed as needed, so as to avoid detonation from trauma to the housing NC. --- Vera Voloshyna (Left, Ana Moore. Right, Vera Voloshyna) Age 13 Appearance Vera’s short, her blonde hair equally so, and her eyes are vibrant, lively green. She’s taken to dressing like Eli in some cases, with scarves and hoodies and the like, and generally has smudges of dirt or oil on her face. One of her front teeth bears a chip to it. Personality Vera is both easily excitable and hard to bring down. The girl almost always has a smile on her face whether something fun is happening or not, and tends to be more on the gullible side. Background Vera’s parents were at Smith’s Rest long before she was born. Her mother was a doctor, and as Vera understands it she helped Ms. Jackspar deliver her daughter not long after their arrival, and it wasn’t until more than a decade later that she herself was born. Their families grew close, and Ms. Jackspar took on a completely different, warmer persona around the Voloshynas. When Vera was two, she spent much of her time being babysat by them, when she was five, she had managed to befriend Ms. Jackspar’s daughter, Elizabeth. When she was six, her parents vanished. The family had received threats multiple times over the course of their stay from residents none too fond of the Russian Volkov Security. The Voloshyna’s tried in vain to explain they held no part in the company’s actions, but when at last the threats turned to violence, they had no choice. The letters never addressed their daughter, perhaps because she spent so much time with the Jackspars it was assumed she was just another one of them. Regardless, when Vera’s parents fled they took the opportunity to leave her in the care of their friend, who agreed without complaint or protest. The girl did the rest of her growing up around Elizabeth, and the two grew incredibly close. She did not receive the same harsh training as Elizabeth but Ms. Jackspar did teach her a few tricks to keeping well in the settlement. -Due to an increasingly dangerous home environment, Celina sent her to "assist" Eli on-base. -Survived the assault on Smith's Rest Text Color: color=662d91 Example.
56,128	1,536	94	923	5,303	End of Day 9 TIMESKIP Start of Day 14	NPC DOSSIERS \| NEW ANCHORAGE NPCs \| Commander Michael Graham Commanding Officer & Operations Director “I don’t believe in children’s fantasies of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, I believe in the absolute principle of order— a concept that promotes excellence, professionalism, integrity, organization, and heart. Order doesn’t allow fantasy, order allows you to be happy with your reality.” Name Michael A. Graham Appearance Commander Graham is a man that looks a decade younger than he appears, which is a bit of an oddity in his profession. Standing at six foot even and a rigorously sculpted physique Graham has proven that age is not a factor in the efforts of a professional soldier. Accompanied by dark blue-black hair that is drawn to mid-length and faded brown eyes, Graham despite the intensity he invokes is not abrasive to look at which in the past he had used to his advantage to get the wits on several enemies including rough-edged females of the criminal element. Graham has few preferences for attire— a uniform when it is available, or a loose synthweave jacket and military-fitted clothing for alternative “casual” situations. Age Forty-Three Role Operations Director Personality Claiming to have no place for childish fantasies of morality, Michael Graham serves to believe strictly in the concept of order as in his eyes it is the only answer to life. As a military commander Graham has been called ruthless, strict, abrasive, absolutist, and demanding— all of which are, in part, true to his character. Caring not for how people see him, Graham prescribes to a militarized belief of organization, rigorous expectation, and self-fulfillment through commitment. However, he is not so simply defined as a military drone given he has explored the world with a bit of a wanderlust that harkens back to his days as an aggressive and unruly NC pilot youth. Graham’s nuances and depth will be truly hard to uncover, though, as it seems as he isn’t privy to sharing. Backstory Michael Aldous Graham was born in the mega-city known as Las Vegas in 2634 within the jurisdiction of the Denver-Vegas Corporation. As an orphaned child, Graham ████████████████████████████ and was enlisted at age of seven years old and was administered to a military camp for training children. This allowed a form of ███████ to recruits to groom them into the ideal soldier. During a mandatory study of a psychological exam it was discovered that Graham was born with the ability to pilot NC’s. He was then sent off to a NC-specialized variant of the camp to which he met many like-minded children of his age and bonded with many of them. Throughout his time at the camp he was discovered to be one of the top three recruits of 2642. The others being ███████ and ███████. The three would become known as Denver-Vegas’ “Blood Trinity” as they became a force of reckoning. Starting in 2647 at The Skirmish of Andreas Fault. Sent in to deal with Red-Star insurgents that had began to encroach on Denver-Vegas territory beyond their corporate holdings in California, Graham and his comrades were said to “single-handedly” win the skirmish, though records are incomplete as sensor array camera footage has been buried in Denver-Vegas archives. As the dispute between Red-Star and Denver-Vegas continued Graham and his comrades gained prestige as the battles got more destructive and chaotic. By the end of the war the trinity had earned a reputation that would cement itself in legend— a status that would be tested when Graham found himself in a one-on-one skirmish with veteran independent pilot Agatha Smith. Following the Andreas Dispute War, Graham was thrown back into the thick of it not long after when Denver-Vegas declared war on the Volkov Corporation who had “unfairly” acquired Elysian Dream. Seven long years poured into the war and at the end of it the death of ███████ by the hands of a Volkov pilot by the name of ███████. Unsurprisingly, the death was earth-shaking for both Graham and ███████, who began to see that they weren’t as invulnerable as they were led to believe. Following the death of one trinity member Denver-Vegas found their battles going downhill against Volkov’s tactical advances and eventually they sued for peace. Elysian Dream remained in Volkov hands. In the time since the Elysian War, Graham found himself earning several promotions such as first officer, field captain, squadron commander, and operations commander. However, for reasons unknown Graham resigned from Denver-Vegas in 2673, opting to work independently. His record suggests operations collaborating with Fairbanks, Paragon, and smaller independents— never sticking around for long. New Anchorage hopes he will stay on permanently. Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran Military Commander Experienced NC Pilot Adept with Tactical Analysis Expert Marksman CQC Expertise Notes Graham absolutely detests nicknames— he will reprimand those who do not refer to him as commander, sir, or his surname. There has few people who he has tolerated nicknames from in his past and they are no longer part of his life. Graham has two adult children he knows about, aged 21 and 18. He has employed both of them. Dr. Herbert Bonheur Head of Medicine “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. Forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad.” Name Herbert H. Bonheur Appearance TBA Age Forty-Six Role Head of Medicine Personality Bonheur is admittedly rather obtuse given that his way of thinking isn’t exactly easy to understand by others; even fellow doctors. Coupled with a loose, casual demeanor and mannerisms that lead many to believe that the years of caffeine-induced dieting has led him to speak similar that may be a bit too quick for people to generally follow. Some consider Bonheur “insane” whilst others consider him “eccentric” but despite his terrible bedside manner and his abrasively blunt way of dealing with things Bonheur’s methods seems to always work. Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Best Medicial Pracitioner in Alaska Skilled Pharmacist Veteran Surgeon Notes TBA Dr. James Lofgren Head of NC Analysis “With only one minute to spare and you took down an opponent who seemed to have all of the advantages. Fascinating.” Name James M. Lofgren Appearance TBA Age Thirty-One Role NC Analyst Neurosurgeon Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Well-tested NC Analyst Skilled Neurosurgeon Skilled Psychologist & Therapist Notes TBA Valdislav Kuznetsov Head of Engineering “Quote” Name Valdislav S. Kuznetsov Appearance TBA Age Fifty-Five Role Senior Engineering Officer Mechanic Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Notes TBA Matthew Alvarez Operations Administrator “Your complaints are unfounded, I assure you that everything is going according to plan. Sit down.” Name Matthew L. Alvarez Appearance TBA Age Twenty-Six Role Operations Administrator Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Eidetic Memory Veteran Administrative Assistant Skilled Clerk Notes TBA Katarina Poux Engineering Officer “I just wish there was a way these beautiful machines could be used for good and not evil. There is such opportunity for them to be utilized for good.” Name Katarina “Kat” Poux Appearance Katarina is easy on the eyes when she is cleaned up, but due to her constant tweaking of machinery she tends to have a oil and dust-spotted appearance. Her hair is black that is worn long or in a messy ponytail depending on her time management and awareness. Her eyes are a perceptive hazel and her choices of attire are generally engineering jumpsuits and uniforms; rarely does Katarina remember what it was like to wear loose ‘feminine’ type clothing. Katarina is about average height for her ethnicity and age, setting in at around 5’6”. Age Twenty-Five Role Junior Engineering Officer Personality Katarina is upbeat and chirpy despite her “muddy” profession, choosing to be welcoming and optimistic rather than cynical and realistic. Whilst some might consider her an annoyance, her energy and emotions do set a mood amongst the engineering staff that leads to a good morale boost. However, with the shadow of death this disposition can be damaged and inverted; thus revealing a sort of “hot” and “cold” dynamic to her personality. However, Katarina tries very hard to not be downbeat and thinks things forward and not backward; she had done such dwelling on negative emotions when she was younger after all. Backstory The daughter of a NC pilot and a weapons engineer, Kat has been surrounded by big machines with complex machinery her entire life. A background that would bring the young girl to study all things mechanical and electrical which led to an astute understanding of mechs and traditional armored vehicles alike. Around the age of thirteen years old the world revealed itself to be much more harsh than she had been led to believe despite her parents professions being blatantly a product of their warlike environment. This tragedy was the death of her mother, Piana, when her independent NC was overwhelmed in combat. The effects of said death would bring her father to alcoholism and retirement from working on new NC weapon schematics and prototypes. Kat would go on following in the footsteps of who her father was before the accident and became an exceptional mechanic and designer in her own right., though she couldn’t seem to escape stigmas about her or her family wherever she went. By the age of twenty, following her instruction as an engineer she found herself in the employ of one of the big corporations: Fairbanks. Several months ago she quit her position as an aspiring engineer at Fairbanks due to various reasons and found herself in league with New Anchorage. Tactical Preference & Skills Skilled NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Weapons Designer Notes TBA Ingram Kalfox Financial & Intelligence Agent “It is so nice to see the youth looking optimistically towards their future— and the more ruthless of us trying to redeem their path in life. It brings hope for our time.” Name Ingram Kalfox Appearance TBA Age 43-56 Role Operations Economist Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Comprehensive Knowledge of International NC Pilots Skilled Businessman & Economist Notes TBA Rebecca Marek Operations Commander “---” Name Rebecca “Reb” Marek Appearance TBA Age 28-36 Role Military Commander Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Experienced Soldier & Military Commander Veteran Anti-NC Special Operations Unit Talented in Tactical Analysis Skilled in CQC Marksman Notes TBA
56,129	1,536	95	923	5,303	GRAHAMCOMMANDER GRAHAM's OFFICE, NEW ANCHORAGE AROUND NOON Problem after problem. Issue after issue. That was what the last five days had been for Michael Graham— and he wasn’t completely sure how to handle it. In the past three plus decades of work as a NC pilot, commander, and soldier he had never seen such a clusterfuck. In the last ten days, all of the traumatic ambushes and bloody feuds looked favorable compared to the prospect of New Anchorage and Graham was afraid it was only the beginning of a even larger problem; especially if his reports bore any reliability. It all felt too surreal that this tiny outfit in the middle of Alaska was this much of a epicenter of trouble, like he had walked into some sort of harrowing nightmare. He had been a commander for over a decade and he knew how to run facilities without error and he definitely didn’t inspire treason or disloyalty; but then again he had been used to dealing with subsidiary corporations and not independents. Graham looked down at his glass of brown liquor before downing it. This is nothing. The last ten or so days may have been rough, but they were nothing he couldn’t adjust for despite two blatant resignations from Jan Van Gent and Penny Maverick— resignations that he had to deal with after Alexander Sky’s apparent breakdown and attempt to depose him from New Anchorage. It wasn’t a new experience, in his life Graham had a gun pulled on him several times in several scenarios ranging from casual sittings to battlefield situations, but he didn’t expect it so suddenly and it had left a minor mark on his psyche. He wondered if more of those hired for New Anchorage were waiting for a chance. It was with that unease that Alvarez had suggested increasing precautions regarding it. But despite all of those outcomes he wasn’t going to opt out like a bruised flower who needed everything to go to plan. Life never went according to plan.	NPC DOSSIERS \| NEW ANCHORAGE NPCs \| Commander Michael Graham Commanding Officer & Operations Director “I don’t believe in children’s fantasies of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, I believe in the absolute principle of order— a concept that promotes excellence, professionalism, integrity, organization, and heart. Order doesn’t allow fantasy, order allows you to be happy with your reality.” Name Michael A. Graham Appearance Commander Graham is a man that looks a decade younger than he appears, which is a bit of an oddity in his profession. Standing at six foot even and a rigorously sculpted physique Graham has proven that age is not a factor in the efforts of a professional soldier. Accompanied by dark blue-black hair that is drawn to mid-length and faded brown eyes, Graham despite the intensity he invokes is not abrasive to look at which in the past he had used to his advantage to get the wits on several enemies including rough-edged females of the criminal element. Graham has few preferences for attire— a uniform when it is available, or a loose synthweave jacket and military-fitted clothing for alternative “casual” situations. Age Forty-Three Role Operations Director Personality Claiming to have no place for childish fantasies of morality, Michael Graham serves to believe strictly in the concept of order as in his eyes it is the only answer to life. As a military commander Graham has been called ruthless, strict, abrasive, absolutist, and demanding— all of which are, in part, true to his character. Caring not for how people see him, Graham prescribes to a militarized belief of organization, rigorous expectation, and self-fulfillment through commitment. However, he is not so simply defined as a military drone given he has explored the world with a bit of a wanderlust that harkens back to his days as an aggressive and unruly NC pilot youth. Graham’s nuances and depth will be truly hard to uncover, though, as it seems as he isn’t privy to sharing. Backstory Michael Aldous Graham was born in the mega-city known as Las Vegas in 2634 within the jurisdiction of the Denver-Vegas Corporation. As an orphaned child, Graham ████████████████████████████ and was enlisted at age of seven years old and was administered to a military camp for training children. This allowed a form of ███████ to recruits to groom them into the ideal soldier. During a mandatory study of a psychological exam it was discovered that Graham was born with the ability to pilot NC’s. He was then sent off to a NC-specialized variant of the camp to which he met many like-minded children of his age and bonded with many of them. Throughout his time at the camp he was discovered to be one of the top three recruits of 2642. The others being ███████ and ███████. The three would become known as Denver-Vegas’ “Blood Trinity” as they became a force of reckoning. Starting in 2647 at The Skirmish of Andreas Fault. Sent in to deal with Red-Star insurgents that had began to encroach on Denver-Vegas territory beyond their corporate holdings in California, Graham and his comrades were said to “single-handedly” win the skirmish, though records are incomplete as sensor array camera footage has been buried in Denver-Vegas archives. As the dispute between Red-Star and Denver-Vegas continued Graham and his comrades gained prestige as the battles got more destructive and chaotic. By the end of the war the trinity had earned a reputation that would cement itself in legend— a status that would be tested when Graham found himself in a one-on-one skirmish with veteran independent pilot Agatha Smith. Following the Andreas Dispute War, Graham was thrown back into the thick of it not long after when Denver-Vegas declared war on the Volkov Corporation who had “unfairly” acquired Elysian Dream. Seven long years poured into the war and at the end of it the death of ███████ by the hands of a Volkov pilot by the name of ███████. Unsurprisingly, the death was earth-shaking for both Graham and ███████, who began to see that they weren’t as invulnerable as they were led to believe. Following the death of one trinity member Denver-Vegas found their battles going downhill against Volkov’s tactical advances and eventually they sued for peace. Elysian Dream remained in Volkov hands. In the time since the Elysian War, Graham found himself earning several promotions such as first officer, field captain, squadron commander, and operations commander. However, for reasons unknown Graham resigned from Denver-Vegas in 2673, opting to work independently. His record suggests operations collaborating with Fairbanks, Paragon, and smaller independents— never sticking around for long. New Anchorage hopes he will stay on permanently. Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran Military Commander Experienced NC Pilot Adept with Tactical Analysis Expert Marksman CQC Expertise Notes Graham absolutely detests nicknames— he will reprimand those who do not refer to him as commander, sir, or his surname. There has few people who he has tolerated nicknames from in his past and they are no longer part of his life. Graham has two adult children he knows about, aged 21 and 18. He has employed both of them. Dr. Herbert Bonheur Head of Medicine “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. Forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad.” Name Herbert H. Bonheur Appearance TBA Age Forty-Six Role Head of Medicine Personality Bonheur is admittedly rather obtuse given that his way of thinking isn’t exactly easy to understand by others; even fellow doctors. Coupled with a loose, casual demeanor and mannerisms that lead many to believe that the years of caffeine-induced dieting has led him to speak similar that may be a bit too quick for people to generally follow. Some consider Bonheur “insane” whilst others consider him “eccentric” but despite his terrible bedside manner and his abrasively blunt way of dealing with things Bonheur’s methods seems to always work. Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Best Medicial Pracitioner in Alaska Skilled Pharmacist Veteran Surgeon Notes TBA Dr. James Lofgren Head of NC Analysis “With only one minute to spare and you took down an opponent who seemed to have all of the advantages. Fascinating.” Name James M. Lofgren Appearance TBA Age Thirty-One Role NC Analyst Neurosurgeon Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Well-tested NC Analyst Skilled Neurosurgeon Skilled Psychologist & Therapist Notes TBA Valdislav Kuznetsov Head of Engineering “Quote” Name Valdislav S. Kuznetsov Appearance TBA Age Fifty-Five Role Senior Engineering Officer Mechanic Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Notes TBA Matthew Alvarez Operations Administrator “Your complaints are unfounded, I assure you that everything is going according to plan. Sit down.” Name Matthew L. Alvarez Appearance TBA Age Twenty-Six Role Operations Administrator Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Eidetic Memory Veteran Administrative Assistant Skilled Clerk Notes TBA Katarina Poux Engineering Officer “I just wish there was a way these beautiful machines could be used for good and not evil. There is such opportunity for them to be utilized for good.” Name Katarina “Kat” Poux Appearance Katarina is easy on the eyes when she is cleaned up, but due to her constant tweaking of machinery she tends to have a oil and dust-spotted appearance. Her hair is black that is worn long or in a messy ponytail depending on her time management and awareness. Her eyes are a perceptive hazel and her choices of attire are generally engineering jumpsuits and uniforms; rarely does Katarina remember what it was like to wear loose ‘feminine’ type clothing. Katarina is about average height for her ethnicity and age, setting in at around 5’6”. Age Twenty-Five Role Junior Engineering Officer Personality Katarina is upbeat and chirpy despite her “muddy” profession, choosing to be welcoming and optimistic rather than cynical and realistic. Whilst some might consider her an annoyance, her energy and emotions do set a mood amongst the engineering staff that leads to a good morale boost. However, with the shadow of death this disposition can be damaged and inverted; thus revealing a sort of “hot” and “cold” dynamic to her personality. However, Katarina tries very hard to not be downbeat and thinks things forward and not backward; she had done such dwelling on negative emotions when she was younger after all. Backstory The daughter of a NC pilot and a weapons engineer, Kat has been surrounded by big machines with complex machinery her entire life. A background that would bring the young girl to study all things mechanical and electrical which led to an astute understanding of mechs and traditional armored vehicles alike. Around the age of thirteen years old the world revealed itself to be much more harsh than she had been led to believe despite her parents professions being blatantly a product of their warlike environment. This tragedy was the death of her mother, Piana, when her independent NC was overwhelmed in combat. The effects of said death would bring her father to alcoholism and retirement from working on new NC weapon schematics and prototypes. Kat would go on following in the footsteps of who her father was before the accident and became an exceptional mechanic and designer in her own right., though she couldn’t seem to escape stigmas about her or her family wherever she went. By the age of twenty, following her instruction as an engineer she found herself in the employ of one of the big corporations: Fairbanks. Several months ago she quit her position as an aspiring engineer at Fairbanks due to various reasons and found herself in league with New Anchorage. Tactical Preference & Skills Skilled NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Weapons Designer Notes TBA Ingram Kalfox Financial & Intelligence Agent “It is so nice to see the youth looking optimistically towards their future— and the more ruthless of us trying to redeem their path in life. It brings hope for our time.” Name Ingram Kalfox Appearance TBA Age 43-56 Role Operations Economist Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Comprehensive Knowledge of International NC Pilots Skilled Businessman & Economist Notes TBA Rebecca Marek Operations Commander “---” Name Rebecca “Reb” Marek Appearance TBA Age 28-36 Role Military Commander Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Experienced Soldier & Military Commander Veteran Anti-NC Special Operations Unit Talented in Tactical Analysis Skilled in CQC Marksman Notes TBA
56,130	1,536	96	1,409	1,959	AGATHACORRIDORS, NEW ANCHORAGE Things had been rather peculiar the past few days in New Anchorage, at least in Agatha’s opinion. Maybe it could have been passed off as the somberness resulting from Alexander Sky’s death, but the atmosphere had grown thick for reasons beyond simply the death of one pilot no matter the circumstances. There wasn’t a particular feel to it, not fear or anger, anticipation or apathy, just an aimless feeling that pervaded the air. Or maybe Agatha was going senile, who really knew at this point? All the aged lioness knew was that she needed a change of pace from the usual routine, and if that meant skipping lunch and taking it easy on the physical labor till dinner filled her up again, she would. Lunch had become an awkward time of day anyway, given the notable absences among their numbers and the odd tension Stein exhibited when around the senior staff. If they hadn’t had so many pilots to begin with Agatha may have been concerned they were understaffed, but as it was they would be able to make due on missions with what they had. Assuming things don’t decline further. Dangerous times, and we haven’t even fired a shot yet. She thought with a grim sense of humor, stalking the halls as she made her way to the office she had been pointedly ignoring up till now. Time to see the Commander. Wonder how far the brats come along. The corridors leading towards Commander Graham’s office felt harrowing, even more so than the entire facility felt— the reality of the last time a pilot stepped into the office becoming all the more apparent to not just Agatha but anybody who stepped forward to speak with the commander. The incident with Alexander was still labeled under a “need to know” basis and it all felt so hush hush despite Alvarez going over the announcement that Alexander Sky had definitely attempted to kill Graham during their last fated meeting several days prior. Agatha was well aware of the history in being made here in these halls. It was amusing to contemplate the ghost stories that would emerge in relation to Graham’s office, especially if he had to shoot another pilot. Hmm, I wonder if the ones that already left were the superstitious sort… Thanks to the directions Stein provided shortly after their arrival, as well the map on all their datapads, it wasn’t difficult for Agatha to turn the corner onto the corridor where Graham’s office resided. As she approached, it certainly did have an ominous appearance if looked at as a whole, but it wouldn’t slow down the aged lioness. With two armed guards leading into the checkpoint with another guard and of course an administrative assistant behind the monitor of a computer console. With confident strides she approached the approached the officer at the desk. ”Permission to enter, sir? I feel I must inform you that I am unarmed, but feel free to search.” She said the last part with a touch of cheek amidst the serious nature of her words and spread her arms to be frisked if the need arose. The nametag read ‘Abigail Kord’, as the sound of clattering keys continued as Agatha asked her question. “Another pilot this week? Have you come to resign as well? At this point the commander should appoint an officer to deal with resignations.” “Resign? No. I’m only leaving in a body bag, if at all.” “I see. Commander Graham is very busy, I hope you aren’t here to waste his time. I’ll let him know you need to see him.” ”Of course, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Finding they weren’t going to strip search she let her arms settled comfortably behind her back and waiting to be let in or sent away. She supposed Graham was a busy man and could have too much work for a social visit, but Agatha would just find another use for her time if he was unavailable. One can never have too much time on the firing range, after all. As Agatha waited there were a few whispers over Kord’s communication device before she looked up from her desk and to the pilot, giving a subtle nod as she waved her in the direction of Graham’s office doors, which were also guarded by two additional soldiers. Finding her way cleared with little difficulty, Agatha gave a parting nod in return to the desk officer before progressing to the next checkpoint. With all this security it was a small wonder Alex got a gun into Graham’s office in the first place, or was the security in response to the incident itself? Well, she was being moved forward, so however this went down it was at the very least on the behest of Graham himself; otherwise she wouldn’t have gotten this far without her resignation papers in hand. Hmm, does he remember our first and last encounter? Awful long time for a child in an iron giant to remember, but he seems to have proven his competence so far...though his hiring practises could use some work.” Though since it was these same practises that got her a job, it wasn’t in her interest to bring this up in conversation. Stopping before the final two guards Agatha looked between them expectantly, wondering if they would be the ones to search her or if Graham would take her in directly. Neither soldier seemed to stop her, though had she been specifically armed perhaps it would’ve been different. As the door slid open, Graham’s voice became apparent. “Smith.” There was a pause. “I’m in the middle of a few things, but how can I help you?” ”Commander.” Agatha stepped inside and stood at ease before his desk. While Graham may have been rather militant in his practises, he hadn’t yet instituted such stringent guidelines into the pilot's behavior. It being a social call also left her in a bit of a lax mindset. ”I was actually looking to talk with you if your workload wasn’t too cumbersome; don’t worry, it’s not a matter of resignation or life and death.” The aged lioness amended, not trying to worry the man over losing another pilot. ”It’s more of a social call then anything else. Getting a measure of the man leading us moving forward into the future once we are past this testing phase.” “Fourteen days in and you want a social call instead of lunch. That’s not something I was expecting, honestly. Especially considering the fact that every single pilot has only stepped into this pilot for anything but.” ”Truth be told I was going to save this for after the testing, but given recent events I’ve figured there isn’t much point waiting. Besides, if every Tom, Dick, and Jane came walking into your office to talk about their feelings, you wouldn’t be a very authoritative commander.” Her foot scuffed along the crimson streaks left ingrained into the cold steel of the floors. Agatha had to admit that it was a poignant reminder to everyone who entered the office who was in charge around these parts, and couldn’t help her lips curling upwards in approval. ”Heh, I never would have thought this is where we would wind up.” “I never thought so, either. Not so bad for an orphan from Vegas, really.” “Not bad at all, though I guess we were all just starry eyed kids before we got tested.” Graham chuckled as he looked to Agatha as he put the datapad down on his desk. “Not all of us were idealistic.” She allowed herself to grin a bit easier as Graham appeared to loosen up. Since she had not been outright cast out and Graham was participating, it was a given that at least she was going to be getting an interesting conversation out of this. Agatha herself wasn’t exactly idealistic growing up, but her childhood was so distant it bore no relevance now. Still, there was always a sense of wanderlust when she gazed upon the hulking Neural Combatants, reverence for walking Armageddon, that wasn’t something a child could really put into words. Looking on it now, Agatha thought she may have desired the liberty that wielding that kind of power would give her. Well, regardless of ideals, you came out fine. Even have that bucket of bolts you call an NC still in operation. Heh, I swear I took its leg off, but looks like my memory must have failed me.” “Tell that to the nerve damage in my right leg.” Graham grinned as it looked like the thought of talking about that period of his life was a much wanted distraction from what he had been dealing with. The aged lioness was intimately familiar with the allure of reflecting on one’s past. Lingering regret mixed with the sweetness of nostalgia made for an intoxicating and enthralling mixture that was difficult to arouse oneself from. Yet this wasn’t inherently wrong to imbibe in, Agatha would be rather hypocritical if she thought so. This was exactly what the both of them needed, a brief reprieve from their current woes in the halls of times since past. ”I think your leg is fine if you aren’t dragging yourself around in a wheelchair. Me? I still feel like my ribs are going to implode from you nearly coring Charon! Suppose I should thank you for that, otherwise I wouldn’t have upped the armor.” “Seems like a upgrade that didn’t get a lot of use. You retired not too long after.” It spoke to how much Agatha was enjoying this moment that she didn’t seem off put by mention of her retirement. “You’d be surprised how effective a heavily armored NC in your yard can dissuade trouble from hitting your family. I’m sure it would have gotten plenty of use, but I’d rather have kept the kids safe until they were ready for it.” Agatha ran a hand through her faded hair and looked upwards, eyes seeming to be locked on an ephemeral image far away from New Anchorage. “Sir, you ever have any of your own?” “Out of the ones I know about, there’s two of them here at New Anchorage.” A short bark of laughter slipped out of Agatha at Graham’s phrasing. While she hadn’t known it at the time her future research into the boy who nearly killed her would reveal that he had a reputation as a ladies man. The both of them probably knew he had more than one bastard out there in the world. “Ah, must be nice having them close. Since I’m willing to be my first month’s salary none of the pilot’s here are yours, I’m going to say….engineering and security?” “My daughter is in medical, educated in Denver-Vegas Pharmaceuticals. She’s done pretty well, but she has abandonment issues so she left when I left.” Graham paused, “As for my son, he’s in engineering. He was a pretty talented NC technican, has a bit of a wanderlust though. I honestly will be surprised if he’ll be staying on for more than a few months.” ”You must be proud of them. Sound like smart kids, they’ll do well for themselves even if your boy looks for his own place in the world. My girls are out there somewhere, wandering souls not likely to stick in one place too long. Still wouldn’t mind more frequent correspondence.” “I could do some digging, see where they ended up; if you’d like.” Agatha shook her head in the negative. As much as she loved her girls the aged lioness knew there was a time to let her girls go and have the time to find their own place in this violent world. And so can I now. Agatha crossed her arms across her chest to occupy her hands as her finger twitched in irritation from her own thoughts. ”I shouldn’t be nosy. They weren’t raised to be damsels, so they don’t need their mother coming to rescue them.” Looking about the room, noting the bloodstain and the rather stringent decorating style that were presented here. Everything bore a degree of theatre to it, an image he desired to present to the world, or in this case New Anchorage. The rigidity of military doctrine, or the latest monument to his power in the splatter of a mad pilot’s life fluid on the floor. Agatha understood that these were important to project to maintain his authority, but a question lingered. ”If you don’t mind me asking, but why did you take this position?” Graham’s smirk dropped and he averted his eyes for a moment, taken back by the question. “What do you mean? It’s a good position.” ”It is, but it’s also a heavy load. Takes you from behind the wheel of your NC but it isn’t any safer.” “I haven’t been behind the ‘wheel’ of my NC in a decade. So that’s not a change. I’m also not concerned about safety.” Agatha snorted mirthlessly, foot tapping the floor. ”Clearly. So I take it you do this for the love of the job, or is retirement not your style?” “I have my reasons.” It wasn’t in Agatha’s imagination that Graham was done with this line of conversation. Agatha hadn’t expected to get anything truly profound or a closely held secret out of her former adversary. She had gotten more than enough to slake her curiosity and they had been enjoying themselves for a time. ”Heh, don’t we all?” The aged lioness chuckled disarmingly before finally deciding to slip into a chair across from Graham’s desk. Things had already been pushed to the brink of tension and needed to unwind with the one thing every parent enjoyed, bragging about their children. “So where did your daughter get her education?” “One of the medical universities in Vegas. Pretty much most of o— my reserve earnings from my early career went into her education in the megacity.” Graham paused as his hand reached to the comlink connected to his right ear. He held up his hand. “I’d hate to cut this short, but I have a new pilot to integrate to the base that has just arrived.” ”Of course. Thank you for your time, sir. Perhaps we can talk more another time then.” Just as soon as she had gotten comfortable Agatha was back to her feet. Offering Graham a tidy salute, she turned and left the way she came. As curious as she was about the new pilot, they’d likely be introduced at the next meal anyway. The aged lioness had a lot to think about after their brief conversation, and there wasn’t much time left to make it back to the cafeteria and eat.	AGATHA SMITH Appearance: Standing at 5’6”, Agatha has sharp features and a smile that could cut an NC to ribbons. Hair once flaxen has long since gone gray, which is pulled into a loose bun. Deep set green eyes and a pointed nose. Some people have told her she has the face of a 1st grade Math teacher who takes joy in assigning homework over the weekend. While not a weight lifter, she has a solid frame from years of hard work on the surface. Tends to wear a faded burgundy vest over an oil stained grey jumpsuit. Age: 58 Role: Scout Sniper Personality: Agatha is a restless woman who finds there is no worse fate than finding yourself without purpose. Give’s 110% percent to everything she does, and is a strong proponent of clean living, or as clean as one can get outside the burrows. Carries herself with a wizened air of experience that comes with age, not book smarts. Could be described as desperate in search for a cause, desperate enough to come to Anchorage. Doesn't acknowledge her own bitterness with having settled down and giving up on piloting. Feels like she lost out on something important, but can't besmirch her husbands memory or their daughters to disregard their lives together as unimportant. Biography: Born and raised on the surface, Agatha always knew she was a special snowflake. At the bizarrely typical age of 14, she was found compatible to pilot an NC. Like so many before her she was drawn into piloting a bipedal weapon of mass destruction and had many mercantile adventures as an independent NC operator that aren’t worth recollection. The kinds of adventures that blur together but can often be summed up as, ‘Go to exotic locations, meet interesting people, and kill them’. Throughout her ventures she had a loyal mechanic who would have followed her to hell and back by the name of Albert Smith. He wasn’t particularly handsome or clever, but he was loyal, sweet, and won over her affections through his perseverance. At 27 Agatha was married, by 28 she had a daughter and another on the way. Finding their means of employment too dangerous to foster a family, they decided it was prudent for Agatha to set aside the adventuring for a more sedentary lifestyle. Investing their considerable saving towards setting up shop in a scrapyard, Agatha began a new life as a mother and family woman. For years, that was good enough. All the effort she had put forth piloting her NC was directed towards running the scrapyard and raising her kids. There wasn’t the same rush that came with piloting a multi-ton automaton, but she was satisfied for a time. Then the children grew up, and left the nest to find out their own destinies. To be the special snowflakes that have fantastical opportunities all lined up for the taking if they only go out and claim them. Her husband of 29 years had grown ill and passed peacefully in his sleep. That left Agatha, with a job she didn’t care for and no one relying upon her. Most would have considered this time to retire, settle down and indulge herself before the inevitable end, but she couldn’t. Even with the best years of her life in the past, she knew she had more to give. Firing up the old NC, which had been used as a makeshift crane for the scrapyard, she went out to recapture her lost glory, but found there wasn’t any demand for someone so long out of the game. The only ones as desperate as she was where the good folks down at New Anchorage, and they just so happened to be looking for any pilot that would come their way. Tactical Preference: Specializes in the collection and dissemination of tactical information with the armaments to capitalize on this knowledge with unparalleled veracity from long range. Relies upon heavy thrusters to facilitate rapid repositioning to out maneuver and evade enemy forces. Word Color: Teal 008080 NC Codename: Charon Body Type: Moderately armored bipedal NC specialized towards ease of movement and relocation. Meant to be a Sniper who repositions with each shot and endeavors to flank an enemy rather than engage from extreme long range at a stationary position. The armor isn't enough for front line combat, but is sufficient to keep Charon active while exposed during relocation. Equipment: -Powerful, back mounted thruster pack for explosive bursts of propulsion meant for either rapid ascent on a vertical plane or dashing forward to cover long distance in a short time. -Advanced Targeting suite to magnify targets up to 60x and offer thermal and night vision capabilities at range. Will paint targets viewed through optics with a marker that will be relayed to friendly units. Armaments: - PXS-8.0 'Opticor' Super heavy Maser rifle. - leg mounted dumb fire rocket pods. 2 pods per leg, 12 rockets each. - Shoulder mounted smoke grenade launcher.
56,131	1,536	97	1,700	2,624	M A D I S O N C O L E & P E R C Y J. M O O R E Medical Facility - New Anchorage (Morning) The nurse had been in the ICU room for the past half hour giving Madison a full medical check to make ensure that she hadn’t suffered any adverse effects from being comatosed for such a long period of time. What started off as the usual health check on her body eventually turned into what felt like a full mechanical tune-up when the datatool was connected to her arm. Once connected, the nurse began to go through all the various system settings, as each finger began to operate and twitch on it’s own giving a very subtle electrical jolt to Madison herself. While checking on the arm’s performance the nurse spoke to her in a calm, collected voice as she both shifted her view from the information screen to the injured girl herself. “Just a little bit longer, Madison, and we can dismiss you for some light duty work. However I’m afraid that we can’t allow you to sync up with any NCs in your current state as your body may experience a possible prolapse back into your previous coma.” “Not to mention, there is the fact that there is no way she is ready to synchronise with the Mad-e at her current physical, mental, and emotional state. No, no, no. Not ready. We do not just put girls in machines when they wake up, no.” The voice of Dr. Herbert Bonheur was blatant as the brown-haired doctor scurried from the doorway into the room with a few papers in his hand. “Nurse, have the nanomachines been flushed from the system? And are the stims correlating well with Ms. Cole’s system? We cannot risk an imbalance…. given her mental history. That would be bad.” Madison remained silent during both the bedside test and the speech that she was somehow supposed to understand. She tried to remember back to what happened, recalling that her last actions involved her NC attacking a Volkov Tank at close range… and then— ===WARNING!!!!=== > Target in close proximity > Possible damage to ’s NC: 40% > Possible damage to Warhead Launcher Ammo supply Madison’s eyes started to water and her teeth chattered as she visualised the explosion her NC endured. The fire and the metal soaring past her body, a searing sensation in her left eye as her right arm was pierced with rusty, oil-covered shards of metal. The medical machines that were still connected to the bedridden girl fluctuated for a brief moment when her heart rate spiked but as the nurse looked at monitors noticing the rise, she dismissed it when Madison’s vitals returned to back to a normal level. “The nanomachines have been flushed, and the new stims have not caused issue with Ms. Cole, Dr. Bonheur.” “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. She forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad. Wham! Dead patient.” “Why are so many people in here?” a soft, familiar voice asked, “Is something up?” Doctor Bonheur turned his head, “Gah! Moore, you know it is incongruous to show up as you please! This isn’t a food dispenser, this is a medical facility.” The redhead pilot backed out of the room - he wasn’t but a couple steps inside anyway. He kept his voice quiet as he tried to explain himself, “I thought it was alright, the doors were open. Sorry. I-I was just checking on Madison. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” “Visiting hours are not— wait, wait… oh I see. Actually, Ms. Cole might be relieved for a familiar face after waking from her neural comatose…heh. Don’t just stand there, come in.” Percy stepped back inside, walking past the doctor to Madison. He smiled at her for a moment as he saw her finally awake before speaking softly, “Hey. How’re you feeling?” In a zombie like state Madison turned to the familiar face of Percy, giving a slight smile and trying desperately to speak in her weakened state, but all that came out was the soft whisper of, “Hey Freckles?” Percy couldn’t keep himself from snorting in laughter, “Yes. It’s Freckles. Good to see you still have your sense of humor.” As he sat in the chair beside the bed, he watched as Madison gripped the green dinosaur on her free arm. Giving as much effort as she could, she began mouthing the names of those that she could remember. “Ana?” “Yeah, she’s here. Not with me at the moment, she’s in our shared room. She’s on base with me now. She’s wanted to see you, but.. I..” he cleared his throat, he wasn’t sure what got caught in it, “You know. I didn’t really want her to see you like this.” “Joe?” “Pale as ever. Still a brainiac... I think he’s working on some kind of sound cannon..? I didn’t ask about it.” She smiled. The sound of sweet music was something she was looking forward to hearing again. The next name came with extra effort, giving a bit of sound to her raspy voice, “Duncan?” Percy opened his mouth to answer, but he didn’t say anything. He fumbled with his hands for a few moments before finally going to answer. “He’s—” “—Duncan left New Anchorage several weeks ago, was going on and on about how he ‘failed’ you. No word from him since.” The pilot couldn’t keep himself from glaring at the doctor. “Seriously? Did you have to be so.. blunt?” He didn’t exactly sound angry, just shocked… Maybe a little angry. Just a little. “Honesty is the best policy.” Bonheur smirked as he patted the other man on the shoulder. “Unless you prefer me lying to a patient? That’s unethical.” “You didn’t have to be that forward about it.” As Percy and Dr Bonheur continued their bickering, Madison glared up at the doctor “Liar! Duncan wouldn’t leave me!” she spoke in a whispering scream before looking over towards Percy for confirmation. She could see the saddened, sympathetic look in his expression. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he just couldn’t figure out what. Dr. Bonheur sighed, also sympathetic as he shuffled his hands in his lab coat as he looked over at Madison, cringing as she screamed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Cole, but he did. If you want, I’m sure that the administrative office might be able to locate him for you, if that’s something you want to do. Don’t know what else to tell you beyond that.” ”Maybe he’ll come back,” Percy suggested, trying to keep it light-hearted. “I could go and ask if you want me to.” Madison gave a stern shake of her head. As much as she cared about Duncan, the fact that he left her only meant she would be chasing after someone who had made the decision to remove themselves from her life. Even by the time she was to go to where he was last reported, there was no guarantee that he would still be there. For the time being she knew she had to focus on both herself and how she was going to get back to her usual, perky attitude. Percy stood up from his chair hesitantly, then asked, “Is it alright if I come back to check on you later?” He had this guilty look on his face, like he didn’t really want to go. He probably had a good reason, though. Madison nodded with a sad and sombre expression, watching as her acquaintance began to leave the room. “Later today, then,” Percy mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. Judging by how he was frowning and looking even more guilty, her pouting must’ve worked. He turned around to give her a small wave, then continued his leave.	Name: Jan van Gent Appearance:Jan stands at 1.65 meters tall. He has fair skin, dark-blonde hair styled shortly and combed to the side. He has little standards concerning the clothes he wears, usually wearing whatever he managed to get on the cheap from a clothes vendor. The only criterium to him is that something needs to be functional. It doesn't need to be pretty or graceful, it just needs to work. Age: 27 Role: Flanking/ counter-CQC Personality :A rash and boorish man by nature. Jan is a spirited individual with a somewhat cruel streak to his actions. He doesn't particularly mind if other people are served by his actions, but is ultimately mostly in it for himself. Despite this though, he places great value on loyalty and mutual respect, even if it is for the slightly pragmatic reason that a long-time partner is the best partner. Backstory: A storied and grizzled independent. Jan van Gent was never part of the big five, instead operating with all sorts of factions all over the world as a mercenary contractor. He has probably fought with and against every major player on the current global stage, switching allegiances in quieter periods when hsi current employer's funds dried up, though always taking care not to antagonize anyone enough to draw the wrong sort of attention. A recent stint as a volkov subcontractor saw Jan assigned to New Anchorage. Political machinations above his control then saw volkvov retract their support, with jan's contract being terminated in the fallout. Jan simply shrugged and renegotiated a direct contract with New Anchorage's commander. Just another day on the job. Tactical Preference & Skills: Jan has great proficiency and experience at spotting and exploiting oppurtunities in a tactical situation. He has very good aim with all equipped weapons even at high speeds. He can concentrate on whatever his current target is without anything feasibly breaking his stride, though he is suspectible to a sort of tactical tunnel vision as well. Notes: Jan returns from the previous thread. Text Color: None due to player bias/laziness NC Codename: Goldenspur Appearance: The goldenspur is a grizzled mercenary machine, much like its pilot. Its frame is painted a muted black with gold details. While standing upright, its silhoutte is very visible due to its signature custom-built shoulder plates, somewhat resembling the skeletal wings of the winged hussar cavalry of old. These shoulder plates are folded over the NC's backside when in standby, but stretch to their full impressive length when shoulder weapons are deployed. Body & Type: A medium-class tank body. Original manufacturer is difficult to determine due to the amount of disparate custom parts mixed and matched to create the NC. Armor plating has been stripped and replaced with ligther variants on all sides save for the front to allow for greater manouverability. The NC has the unusual ability to fold downwards into a threaded tank-vehicle designed for speed and getaways. Equipment & Armaments: Goldenspur's main armament is a high-power plasma lance designed to punch through heavy armor and inflict catastrphic damage on internal systems. It requires a long pre-charge time and consumes most of the reactor's energy output when fired, also requiring a cooldown period afterwards. The goldenspur has two standard grade gimballed autoguns mounted on its shoulders. Energy consumption on them is low, and the caliber is sufficient to deal with most non-NC targets as well as posing a threat to NCs with lighter armor. In terms of defensive measures, the goldenspur has a standardized ECM array to deal with fire and forget missiles, a radar dampening coating on its armor, and a set of smoke launchers to disrupt visual contact. The smoke has a peculiar chemical composition that disperses lasers fired through it.
56,132	1,536	98	1,372	1,641	JOSHUA RAYBARRACKS, NEW ANCHORAGE In the room of Joshua Ray, the man himself was writing in his log while in his bed, facing downwards with one of his legs kicked up and eating a bag of gummy snacks. Pinching up a bear, in his mind, its inter-racial family of worms, fellow bears, and other assorted gummy candies were already in tears as they watched him being ripped apart limb from limb above their heads. Like a starving animal, he went in to grab a few more to add to the tomb of gnarled bits and pieces of gummy flesh within his stomach. He wrote down his experiences related to trying to join this team of misfits. With his own trusty pencil, 'So far I've only had the pleasure of getting to know one other guy, Joe Verona, in this place. He's a nice one I can tell, seems dependable.' He bit the eraser before continuing, the man of few chicken scratchings wondering what else to put. 'I've been trying to identify the others but the only one recognizable is some older lady, I already forgot her name like the dumbass I am. That guy I talked to on the train went berserk and tried to kill Graham Crackers, but since he's a total badass presumably, he shot first.' Happy for now, he decided to get up and find something to pass the time with. He always wanted to try a certain game... Grabbing his knife, he slipped it into his pocket nice and snug, before going into the mess-hall, to try and make a new acquaintance with this little game. JOSHUA RAY and ELIMess Hall, New Anchorage It was lunch, and the NC pilots were called to eat once more, but at least one, Ray, was looking to do something else aside from that. He decided to randomly select one of the pilots who were walking in and sit next to them and squawk at them for a bit, get to know them. It’s been two weeks, might as well, right? He decided to sit down with an icier looking girl, the type he’d recognize from his endless stories as the one that needed a bit of careful defrosting. Of course, that was just an assumption, but those were still useful. Plopping down at a table in the corner with her, he decided to get the obvious finished with immediately. Opening with a ”Hi there, I’m, y’know.. Joshua Ray. Nice to meet you?” he then thought sarcastically, Starting out smooth as butter as usual, Ray., before he smiled a friendly grin, until he resumed his standard facial expression of mild interest. She didn’t turn to him until he’d actually spoken, and even then it was from the side up to his last word. Icy had been an accurate observation, for sure, and when she did face him, he didn’t receive a smile in return. From the past days, it might have been expected that at this point, a younger, peppier voice would chime in to make the proper introductions, however a passing glance showed that the young woman was, in fact, alone. ”Hello,” her voice was a dead match, cold, official, mechanical. ”Is something the matter?” ”Well, yeah, I was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind talking and, you know, goofing around a little to get to know each other. I’ve never been one for big teams but, y’know, it’s a good idea to sorta… know the other people you’re working with, right?” He went to grab something from his pocket, taking a bit and continuing to speak. ”Wanna play a game? I think it’s a traditional game for tough people like us, soldiers and stuff?” Eventually, he got out a knife, blade covered by a scabbard. ”Five Finger Fillet? Safe or Ballsy?” Her eyes narrowed, swapping from him to the knife, then back to him. Her stature went rigid, but it seemed more a point of form than any true apprehension. ”You want to cut your fingers off,” a question, even if it sounded more like a statement. ”That’s why I asked ‘Safe or Ballsy?’ Scabbard on or off?” He had a short little laugh before admitting ”I usually play it safe. I’m not too brave at all.”. He put the knife on the table between them before asking again, ”Interested or not? Might be fun.” The knife had the man’s initials, JR, and apparently a little name. ‘Chance the knife’ was on the other side of the handle. For a few moments the young woman was quiet, studying the knife now entirely. At length she offered a brief nod, and pushed it back to him. ”Leave it on, dismembering yourself now would be unwise.” With that she turned full and sat watching, waiting for a demonstration. Perhaps she’d never actually played the game. Joshua grabbed the ‘safe’ knife and put his left hand down on the table, spreading his fingers apart widely, and twirling the blade in his right hand until it pointed downwards. ”Never played, right? I’ve been told that you go something like this...”, Ray stabbed the knife sideways in between each finger, narrowly missing each time until a second or two later he ‘cut’ his own thumb on his second go around. He went to check on his finger reflexively before handing it over, ”As fast as possible. Poke your hand, pass it.” ””Uhh… huh.. Usually there’s a bet or something involved. And a ‘first one to stab themselves thrice loses’ and stuff. At least where I come from.” ”So it’s gambling,” she said, flat but not accusatory. She took the offered knife and weighed it in her hand, tested the scabbard point against her palm, and, apparently satisfied, splayed her fingers out on the table as he had done. Her pacing was steady, slow at first and gradual, but her accuracy was most noteworthy. On the fourth pass she nicked the edge beneath her pinky, and let a small “hm” rumble her throat, before handing the knife back over. ”It’s not a bad blade.” ”You got that right.” He agreed as he went to grab it. Before resuming himself, he inquired, ”Care for the story behind it?”. He then started quickly, going at a somewhat lethargic pace himself and with comparable accuracy, but that probably came from a bit more experience with stupid games such as this instead of him being good with a knife. Or was he good with a knife? Either way, he did screw up right as he reached the fifth pass. He slid the knife over. ”It’s a knife. It doesn’t have a story,” she said as she hovered it over her hand once again, ”Though I assume then that you have a story, involving the knife.” This time she started with a swifter pace, pinpointing between each finger, her figure hunching slightly as intense eyes focused. It was the eighth pass this time before she tweaked the blade at an odd angle and caught it sideways between her middle and ring finger. She set it down for him. ”I’m not interested in that either. If we’re sharing information, I’d more like to know how often you use knives, if you do at all, for more than simple recreation.” ”I used them often enough while I was still figuring out my NC, y’know the Apollo? Big red one. I actually got this knife in an accidental bar brawl. I was just present for one, didn’t participate, but I picked it up on the way out of dodge. Guy’s probably still looking for it.” He had a shit-eating grin on his face, proud of his act of extremely mild thievery. ”I haven’t killed anything with it yet, and for that I’m pretty glad I guess.” He went to continue the game, going quicker this time and ‘nicking’ himself on his left hand’s middle finger in the eighth pass too. ”I believe that’s three,” she stated. ”In lieu of a wager, I’d rather know why you’re here.” Joshua, with a hint of sarcasm, simply said ”Because the demonstration sure counts.”, before putting his hand to his chin. Looking to the side and resting his head on his now-free left hand, he thought about what he could say for a bit. With another grin fit for some sort of trickster, he dryly asked ”Did you mean that theologically, physically, or historically?” while smirking. Once again she did not share his levity, cold gaze stern, lips pulled taut. ”Whichever convinces me why I should trust you, when we’ve already had mutiny, drop-outs, and traitors.” ”Physically, I’m here cause I used my legs to get on a train. Theologically, there’s hundreds of possibilities. Fate? Deus Vult? Because an angel told me too? Historically? Because some guy made giant robots, I pilot one, and I need money I can get from here because that Graham fellow needs pilots.” He then put his knife in his pocket. ”Really, though, I’m just here for a combo of things. Money, for one, and because Graham seems decent compared to the alternatives.” Joshua shrugged his shoulders and pointed to himself, then to Elizabeth. ”Us NC pilots are sometimes just tools, so I’m happy I get to choose who gets to use this tool too. Feels pretty nice, yeah? Graham seems like he’ll treat me decent. Besides, the other pilots seem cool so far anyway. Can’t stay a lone wolf forever, and this is a nice pack, I guess.”, Joshua smiled. She clicked her tongue in her mouth, sat up straight, and subtly glanced around the room. Her voice went lower, not in a whisper, but grave nonetheless. ”You don’t choose your home. Our job is to protect New Anchorage, even if that means protecting it from people who were also meant to. I trust you understand?” Joshua had a certain look in his eye. He started to answer, ”Ah, I think I know what you mean. I can be underhanded, but I’m pretty sure neither of us will have to worry about that.”, before he got up from his chair and went to actually get some grub. ”Besides, as I said, I’m not that ballsy anyway.”. ”As I hear, the most dangerous ones rarely are,” she said, and returned to her own meal. Before moving away from the table, he shrugged once more, in agreement. ”I suppose.” He lifted his left hand, moving his fingers. ”After all, I’m a lefty.”	Joshua Ray Appearance Joshua Ray is a twenty-seven year old young man with brown eyes, long black hair in a pony-tail, and a somewhat lanky frame. He stands about six feet tall and weighs approximately 150 pounds. While he is somewhat squishy, he isn't weak in terms of strength. His skin is notably pale for a 'Surface-Dweller' due to his sheltered upbringing, and he carries himself as if he doesn't want to make a scene at most times. Age 27 Role Joshua Ray fits into both a 'Heavily-armored heavy weapons specialist' and 'High mobility demolitions' role. Due to this, his NC can fit both. Personality Joshua Ray is a kind, optimistic young man with fire and hope in his eyes, possessed by a desire to make the world a better place and wander around. That's what he'd be doing if he had any say in the matter, but a man with an NC has to eat. He dislikes doing extremely 'dirty' operations, yet is just fine being a more cunning or surreptitious sort. He's not one to talk often, but he does appreciate company, as long as they're also of the more silent type. He's easily noted for his somewhat deadpan, snarky humor and mild self-deprecating tendencies, yet maintaining a fairly friendly demeanor. However, for all of his love of justice and morality, he's a bit of a coward. Backstory Joshua Ray grew up in one of the many scattered surface settlements, in a still somewhat irradiated, yet peaceful area in one of outlying Denver-Vegas territories. Living a somewhat sheltered life, he developed a love of reading pre-war and modern stories, documents, and religious writings, not to mention a strong sense of righteousness and morality that stands with him to this day. When he was of age, he began wandering the world with his own two feet, going from continent to continent by salvaged boat or independent aerial transporters. Doing odd-jobs as needed around the world, he never lost his thirst for justice nor his hope to play a part in creating a better future for all of mankind. One day while working in a medical facility, what appeared to be an error in some minor group or another's "Neural-Combatant Compatibility" detection hardware revealed that he had the necessary mental or psychological asset that gave him the capability to control one. Calling in favors with friends and extended family, he soon found himself controlling a custom-built lightweight NC known as the Apollo, after an absolutely ancient group or project that apparently resulted in men landing on the moon overhead. While originally built from scrap at a junkyard and using hand-me-down Neural Nets and software, over three years the Apollo turned into the heavily armed and armored beast it is today. Eventually, however, he accepted all the independent contracts that he was any interested in, and decided to finally fall into a larger group. Going from one corporate army to another, he now waits to see if New Anchorage wants him or not. Tactical Preference & Skills Ray is highly adept at high-speed pursuit and maneuvering, managing heavy weapons, and bracing/fidgeting before impact to reduce the lethality of enemy attacks. His best skill, however, is his ability to determine the situation he's in and the safest way out if need be. Notes Joshua Ray's favorite pastimes include star-gazing, reading ancient and modern documents and stories, and finally contemplating with others about the universe and humanity's place. Not to mention video games. Text Color ff4c4c Apollo 'Heavy' AppearanceThe red Apollo 'Heavy' is a somewhat bulky heavily armored unit with many reaction control verniers and weapon mountings. While a thicker example of an NC, it is still a fairly sleek and well-rounded unit, armor able to render most non-specialist weapons fairly useless. Body & Type The Apollo is a heavily armed and armored bipedal type, with additional jets compared to most other heavy NC's, giving it a decent amount of maneuverability for its weight class. Although, it's still not particularly quick in a straight line. The NC itself stands at a mighty 26 meters, towering over medium weights and lightweights, although just a bit on the short side for fellow heavies. Equipment & Armaments The Apollo 'Heavy' is very well armed, with weapons and equipment including: One right-handed custom-built heavy particle rifle, firing deadly globs of hydrogen based plasma. It has a very high rate of fire for a weapon of its class and individual shot-strength, and has additional heatsinks compared to your standard plasma weapon. Due to these qualities, it's a very good suppression and anti-NC weapon, although its long range abilities are moot, and it can only reasonably fire when the NC is maneuvering slower. Made out of a combination of Paragon, Volkov, and Magen parts. Six 1 meter diameter missile racks on the back 'wings', these can take many types of warheads and missile bodies, although Ray usually loads them with long-range anti-armor missiles. 1 Heavy siege-shield, fitted with heat-resistant coating and sharpened to the point it can be used similar to a 'Pile-bunker' gauntlet. Fitted on the left arm with a gauntlet, leaving the hand free. 1 left-handed kinetic sniper rifle with a belt-feed. Based using Denver-Vegas parts, this rifle has a very long operational range and can easily damage most NC's and slow, armored targets like bunkers or naval ships. 2 hip-mounted Thermal Cleavers, each with a pointed tip, allowing them to slash and stab with equal ability. They are generally folded up like a butterfly knife on each hip, unless in use. One is as long as the NC's arm, and the other is about half as long, similar to a Katana and Wakizashi pair, although the blades are straight and less fancy. The Apollo is also equipped with an array of chaff-launchers, fitted with four charges of a special type of chaff that interferes with infrared and RADAR targeted weapons, while also reducing the capability of laser or particle arms. Finally, all of the units' ammunition is stored on a large backpack right beneath the units' thruster 'wings', with two feeds connecting to the Apollo's plasma caster and sniper-rifle, pumping hydrogen and sending large caliber bullets respectively. Fuel is stored inside tanks within the Apollo's legs and the sides of the chest. Unique Feature In an emergency, the heavy armor plating, extraneous thrusters and power-routing cables powering them can be ejected by the heavy clamps and occasional electromagnets that hold them in place. This results in the Apollo 'Heavy' effectively turning into the Apollo 'Light', with changed features below. Apollo 'Light' Appearance The Apollo Light is a thinly armored NC that is in all actuality just the frame for a much larger one, yet able to act independently. Standing two meters lower than its original form, the Apollo-Light is still taller then most average NC's, yet less so. The Apollo Heavy's shield divides in two at the middle, and combines with the now armorless wing-portion to form two large 'binders' on the backside. The motions of these in flight can severely enhance the rotational and maneuverability based capabilities of the NC. Body & Type The Apollo-Light is nearly armorless in comparison to the Heavy form, but the power generator, now having to feed a smaller amount of turbojets maneuvering a lighter NC, can overdrive the aforementioned for even more speed. Of course, the now 'needlessly heavy' systems installed do weigh it down to the point it's not as fast as it could be if optimized. Equipment & Armaments Much less heavily armed compared to the Apollo 'Heavy', the inner frame of which is only armed with its sniper rifle and plasma-caster, but its ammunition backpack is still in place, alongside its shield, although technically. Of course, with the armorless wings being able to move, they can still assist in defense. Theoretically, if need be, the connection ports powering the other weapons can send electrical arcs through the air like a tesla-coil, but Ray never tried that before in mild fear. Notes Compared to the 'Heavy form', the 'Light' Apollo is much more worthy as a scout or any other position that requires stealth, with a boxier and thinner design. If needed, it could be outfitted with RADAR-absorbent coating and act as reconnaissance unit.
56,133	1,536	99	1,318	425	PERCYBARRACKS, N.A. FACILITY Percy knew he was late for the lunch call, but he did not care the slightest bit.. Nope. Not a bit. Not the teeniest little bit.. He let himself groan inwardly. He did care, because he refused to let his kid go hungry because of his laziness, plus messing up a near-spotless attendance record just felt so wrong. At the time time, however, he really didn’t want to walk all the way to his room to get Ana, walk to the mess hall for lunch, then walk all the way back to escort Ana through the halls. He didn’t necessarily feel entitled to some laziness - especially if his kid was going to suffer, but at the same time he was sooo definitely entitled to some laziness. But he wouldn’t let his kid go hungry.. He groaned outwardly and bucked up. He could cope with a little more walking and he knew it. Or, more accurately, it’s been drilled into his head by Reb so then he would know it. On the subject of Miss Marek, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was getting special attention from her. A feeling in his gut said that it’d be kind of wrong if he was getting special attention - Joe probably needed the one-on-one time more than Percy did - but something a bit lower was telling him to just go with it, that it was nice to get some special treatment. It’s hard to disagree with that, especially when the person giving him extra attention was so attractive. Maybe he was a sucker for a woman in uniform, or maybe it was how she demanded him to work harder, or maybe it was a little more cliche, like how inviting her dark brown eyes were, or even that she’s just pleasant to talk to away from the training.. Either way, Rebecca made all this feel less like a damn drag.. Then Percy walked into his bedroom door. He took a step back, scolding himself for getting that involved with his own thoughts as the door slid open. Ana spoke as soon as Percy made eye contact with her, “Do you need your glasses, Dad?" “No,” Percy said, a blush forming on his face, “I’m just.. thinking, that’s all.” “About?” “Things that you shouldn’t worry about.” “If it's making you walk into things, surely it's very-” Percy simply gave her the look that his parents gave him when he was talking too much before changing subject, “Are you hungry?” Ana nodded, quickly putting up her toys and grabbing Percy’s hand to walk with him to the mess hall. The pilot checked his datapad for the time, having to flick through a few other pages until he actually got to the clock - 12:27. He grimaced, looking down at his daughter to tell her they better get going before they totally miss out on lunch, but she spoke first “Can I see your datapad?" “Day-ta pad,” Percy corrected. Before he could continue, Ana looked at him funny. “What?” “It’s not day-ta,” Ana said, “It’s dat-uh.” Percy grinned as he faced forward to watch where he was walking. She walked straight into this one, and he was so glad he didn't miss this opportunity like he had so many others. He kept his voice casual, but there was no hiding the smile on his face. “Yeah. You know, I guess technically you’re right about that.” Ana looked confused again, before she noticed the shit-eating grin on her father's face. “Oh no," Ana put on her best pouty face in the hopes it'll stop what's about to happen. "Dad, don’t-” Percy was unfazed. He's not going to let this joke rot in his brain forever. This is the perfect time for it. He continued with a sly smile, “-Since it’s mine, it could be called-” “-Dad, please-” Ana begged, squeezing his hand a little tighter. Percy could barely contain himself - his voice was lowered, trying desperately not to laugh as he delivered the punchline in a whisper just audible enough for Ana to hear, “-A da-dapad.” THIS IS HOW I RETURN? WITH STUPID FLUFF AND DAD JOKES?	Percy J. Moore Age: 32 Role: > Support Appearance: He's a pretty average looking guy. He's about 5 ft 8in, 167 lbs. He has red hair and freckles all over his body, suggesting he's at least a little Irish. At least a little. Even though everything else about him seems warm and inviting, his eyes are a cool gray blue. Some people have told him he looks a little girly, but his stubble shows otherwise. He also has a little bit of a nose on him. Normally, he'd wear a blue jean jacket with a faux fur collar with a dark sandy brown turtleneck underneath, light jeans with dark long-johns underneath, and some worn but sturdy leather-y hiking boots (with socks, of course). He also has a set of more intimidating black steel toed boots, but he doesn't wear those very often. He also has two silver rings on his left hand. One is his wedding ring, the other is his wife's. The glasses shown in the picture are merely for reading. (I just couldn't keep the glasses-wearing Percy to myself tho like look at him) Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) He's got one or two screws a little bit loose.. He's paranoid, temperamental, overprotective and has a very hard time relaxing. Under all that he's really just scared. He's scared for his daughter and himself. He doesn't want his girl to end up like her mother - dead - or him - an emotional mess that's barely got his shit together. If you can get through the barrier to the guy underneath it, you've got yourself a friend that's gonna have your back 99% of the time. Backstory: He was living an average life that was as comfortable as it can be in a wasteland with his mother and father in Smith's Rest.. maybe even a little bit sheltered. After moving out of the house so he can have some time to really figure out who he was as a person, his parents died shortly after because of a disease that was spreading across the settlement. A few years after that, and after a few romps with some other people, he met a lovely woman that was just a year older than him - Laura. Laura was, in his eyes, very pretty, very intelligent, and very much the yin to his yang. They just clicked. They had a child out of wedlock, but they married after their little girl, Ana, was born. A few months later, as they were finally settled into parenthood and Percy thought that maybe everything's alright, Laura was killed in an accident in her workplace. Percy had to tackle parenthood alone. He did awfully at first - Laura was a much better parent than he was at that point in time - but he gradually got better. Ana grew up to be a bright eyed little girl. He took the job because he was in need of the huge sum of money promised. He thought he could just get in, get out, be over with it.. It'd be easy! He was so, so wrong - he figured that one out after the surgery to get his plug.. That's what he gets for not reading the fine print. After dealing with a surprise attack on Smith's Rest, he's gotten meaner and a little less forgiving. Then, after the events of the Navy attack, his NC was damaged to the point it locked up, was able to be toppled, and the right side of his body was mangled pretty badly - so badly in fact, on top of breaking his leg, he lost his hand. His face was luckily kept in tact. He's back into what Sophia called the unfair game with much hesitance.. he prays he doesn't lose any more body parts. Tactical Preference & Skills: > He'd rather stay away from bloodshed if he can, but if he can't, sticking close to the team would be his second choice. He has a very strong desire to protect those around him, even if they're in huge mechas, making him an adequate support. > If he was to do a solo mission and the only person he has to worry about is himself (and he's confident that he'll be fine), he would find no issues with getting his metal hands dirty. Or oily, I guess. Notes: > He hates getting drunk - not because of what it does to him, but because his hangovers are awful > He has pistol that's been passed down for generations upon generations. It's technically obsolete, but he's very good at using it. > He also has a pocket knife that was a sort of "parting gift" from Sophia (the former commander). > He has a prosthetic hand now. He both hates it and kind of totally loves it. > His sync rate is around 75-90%, depending on his mental state. Text Color: LightSteelBlue, or b0c4de Codename: Papa Mike Appearance:: Looks clunkier and heavier than it really is. Basic metallic black paint with white accents. Has a couple dings here and there, but it's not affecting anything major. Older model modified to meet standards of the present, really. Body & Type: > Bipedal > Originally designed to be semi-proficient at most tasks. Has been modified to be faster and more powerful than the original. Equipment: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > Slightly damaged stock neural computer - a bug in the computer is that it calls Percy "Micheal" instead of "Percy." Percy has tried to fix it but is afraid he'll break something else. He's not a coder for fuck's sake. > Above-average thrusters specifically designed for short bursts of speed > Slightly above average generator Armaments: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > VEKW-01.65 (New-Anchorage Custom - 35 rounds, mid-to-long-range) > PPB-2.71 (New-Anchorage Custom - melee (laser sword), standard white in color) Small Standard Fairbanks-Model missile launcher on the back (3 missile burst, long-range) random tidbits (will be added to as I think of things) > Before the NC was Percy's, it belonged to a guy named Michael who was actually an assault/support for his squad.. hence the computer calling him "Michael" :P Ana L. Moore The redhead is Ana. The ushanka girl is Vera Age: 8 Appearance: She's just past the average height of girls her age, being 4ft 2in, but she's underweight at 50 lbs. She shares many of her father's physical traits, just softened (especially her nose). She also has his red hair and freckles - her freckles are more in her face, however. Her eyes are a very lovely shade of green. She's usually wearing a pink and white striped sweater that's beaten up from being worn so often, some dark pants that are equally as beat up, and some shoes that are so worn it's probably time for new ones. She has what she would call "a dumb monkey hat with stupid looking gloves that match" that she really would prefer not to wear (she's eight, not FIVE), but her father makes her wear it sometimes when it's colder than usual. Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) Despite all that's happened, she's still very optimistic and caring. She's got a will made of titanium and she's braver than she realizes she is - even braver than her father, who she feels is the bravest person in the whole world. She's a little bit like her father in the sense that she also has a touch of a temper as well... maybe not a touch. Backstory: She was born to Laura and Percy. She never knew her mother, because she died when she was little. When the surprise attack in Smith's Rest happened, she was almost taken away for who knows what purpose. Almost. She was saved, but her perceptions of the world changed pretty drastically. She didn't know just how scary the world was till then. She's slowly learning to deal with the nightmares, but she probably won't like confined spaces very much. Notes: > She stole a box of crayons from the school once. She still has that box of crayons. > She absolutely loves dogs. Puppies are awesome. > She is very much capable of taking care of herself.. for the most part. > She's a bit clumsy - she has a very tiny, almost unnoticeable scar on her nose, between her eyes. she walked into a door frame when she was little. > Birthday is August 7th. Text Color: Violet or ee82ee
56,134	1,536	100	923	5,303	RYNTRANSIT DEPOT, NEW ANCHORAGE AROUND NOON The ride from Seattle to New Anchorage was one of the shorter expeditions that Kathryn Dradht had done in her thirteen years of living life, as admittedly short her experiences behind the wheel of a mech had been. But no matter the experience of a rival pilot she always turned heads— though it wasn’t hard to understand why, what with her being as young and impetuous as she was. But it was that impetuousness that got her through the day and eventually earned her respect on the field. Deep within her stomach she knew that New Anchorage would be no different and that playing with others would just be something she’d get used to dealing with and as long as they didn’t cross her there wouldn’t be any problems; people who tried to get on her bad side didn’t end up too well. With a duffel bag slugged over her shoulder, Ryn looked around the station for the commander of the outfit that had taken her on; her foot tapping impatiently on the concrete floor as her free hand straightened the collar of her brown synthetic mesh jacket. The fact that the guy hiring her was not on time and she was almost had a sort of amusing irony to Ryn— her body resting against a support pillar as her right hand dug into her jacket pockets to retrieve an old world coin that she began playing with to bide her time. A few minutes later the clattering of footsteps moving toward her direction caught her ear and a snarky comment left her lips in a mutter. “About damn time.” The youthful pilot looked up at the man approaching— he definitely looked in charge based on her observations; though she wasn’t sure what kind of person he was going to turn out to be. She had employers who barked at her, gave her the most minute of instructions, treated her like a braggart child, and condescended her. What sort of man was this one going to turn out to be? She had no interest in doing superfluous research on this “Graham” fellow or even New Anchorage; she was here to do the same thing she did independently. “Kathryn Dradht, I presume.” She shook her head as he used her formal name. “Ryn. You the employer?” He raised a brow. “I wouldn’t be talking to you otherwise, are you ready to get started?” “Suppose I am.” “Good. Follow me.” Generally this was around the time the employer asked her if she had any questions— and given her new “Commander” and the way he walked, she was surprised that hadn’t come up yet. Either he was in a rush, didn’t care, or there was a lot of other issues on his mind that he felt it’d be pointless to ask; or maybe a combination of all of supposed options. Either way, it was not like Ryn was teeming with questions and curiosity. As far as she was concerned— if you’ve seen one mech base you’ve seen them all. “You have a few weeks to pass all the required examinations and tests— but given your track record I don’t doubt you’ll handle it well. I’ll be having my administrative aid wire you the essential information within the hour to your datatool. I apologize that I cannot give you a more in-depth integration personally beyond throwing you to the cafeteria— but I’m sorting out a lot of issues and my time is becoming more diminutive by the second.” “As long as I know where I’m sleeping and when food is done, I’m pretty good.” “We’re only a few minutes into the NC pilots lunch term, so you’re in luck there. But yes, that will all be sorted within the hour.” Ryn nodded as she kept flipping the coin in her hand as they walked through corridor after corridor until the door opened to the Mess Hall— or what she assumed was a mess hall considering she had never been acquainted one in her entire life. Ryn nodded as she kept flipping the coin in her hand as they walked through corridor after corridor until the door opened to the Mess Hall— or what she assumed was a mess hall considering she had never been acquainted one in her entire life. As Graham moved forward ready to introduce her to her fellow pilots she ran through a quick look of the setup and who exactly the people she was going to be working with looked like. “Apologies to interrupt your lunch— but given Van Gent and other losses I have decided to take on an available contract with another pilot. I’m sure you’ll warm up to her and get her settled here at New Anchorage.” Graham turned to Ryn. “This is Ryn Dradht. The pilot of The Phantasm.” Ryn made a casual wave. “Now, if you excuse me… I have another meeting I’m late for, so please get her sorted. Thank you.” Ryn caught the coin she had tossed in the air with her right hand as she looked around. “Yo.”	NPC DOSSIERS \| NEW ANCHORAGE NPCs \| Commander Michael Graham Commanding Officer & Operations Director “I don’t believe in children’s fantasies of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, I believe in the absolute principle of order— a concept that promotes excellence, professionalism, integrity, organization, and heart. Order doesn’t allow fantasy, order allows you to be happy with your reality.” Name Michael A. Graham Appearance Commander Graham is a man that looks a decade younger than he appears, which is a bit of an oddity in his profession. Standing at six foot even and a rigorously sculpted physique Graham has proven that age is not a factor in the efforts of a professional soldier. Accompanied by dark blue-black hair that is drawn to mid-length and faded brown eyes, Graham despite the intensity he invokes is not abrasive to look at which in the past he had used to his advantage to get the wits on several enemies including rough-edged females of the criminal element. Graham has few preferences for attire— a uniform when it is available, or a loose synthweave jacket and military-fitted clothing for alternative “casual” situations. Age Forty-Three Role Operations Director Personality Claiming to have no place for childish fantasies of morality, Michael Graham serves to believe strictly in the concept of order as in his eyes it is the only answer to life. As a military commander Graham has been called ruthless, strict, abrasive, absolutist, and demanding— all of which are, in part, true to his character. Caring not for how people see him, Graham prescribes to a militarized belief of organization, rigorous expectation, and self-fulfillment through commitment. However, he is not so simply defined as a military drone given he has explored the world with a bit of a wanderlust that harkens back to his days as an aggressive and unruly NC pilot youth. Graham’s nuances and depth will be truly hard to uncover, though, as it seems as he isn’t privy to sharing. Backstory Michael Aldous Graham was born in the mega-city known as Las Vegas in 2634 within the jurisdiction of the Denver-Vegas Corporation. As an orphaned child, Graham ████████████████████████████ and was enlisted at age of seven years old and was administered to a military camp for training children. This allowed a form of ███████ to recruits to groom them into the ideal soldier. During a mandatory study of a psychological exam it was discovered that Graham was born with the ability to pilot NC’s. He was then sent off to a NC-specialized variant of the camp to which he met many like-minded children of his age and bonded with many of them. Throughout his time at the camp he was discovered to be one of the top three recruits of 2642. The others being ███████ and ███████. The three would become known as Denver-Vegas’ “Blood Trinity” as they became a force of reckoning. Starting in 2647 at The Skirmish of Andreas Fault. Sent in to deal with Red-Star insurgents that had began to encroach on Denver-Vegas territory beyond their corporate holdings in California, Graham and his comrades were said to “single-handedly” win the skirmish, though records are incomplete as sensor array camera footage has been buried in Denver-Vegas archives. As the dispute between Red-Star and Denver-Vegas continued Graham and his comrades gained prestige as the battles got more destructive and chaotic. By the end of the war the trinity had earned a reputation that would cement itself in legend— a status that would be tested when Graham found himself in a one-on-one skirmish with veteran independent pilot Agatha Smith. Following the Andreas Dispute War, Graham was thrown back into the thick of it not long after when Denver-Vegas declared war on the Volkov Corporation who had “unfairly” acquired Elysian Dream. Seven long years poured into the war and at the end of it the death of ███████ by the hands of a Volkov pilot by the name of ███████. Unsurprisingly, the death was earth-shaking for both Graham and ███████, who began to see that they weren’t as invulnerable as they were led to believe. Following the death of one trinity member Denver-Vegas found their battles going downhill against Volkov’s tactical advances and eventually they sued for peace. Elysian Dream remained in Volkov hands. In the time since the Elysian War, Graham found himself earning several promotions such as first officer, field captain, squadron commander, and operations commander. However, for reasons unknown Graham resigned from Denver-Vegas in 2673, opting to work independently. His record suggests operations collaborating with Fairbanks, Paragon, and smaller independents— never sticking around for long. New Anchorage hopes he will stay on permanently. Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran Military Commander Experienced NC Pilot Adept with Tactical Analysis Expert Marksman CQC Expertise Notes Graham absolutely detests nicknames— he will reprimand those who do not refer to him as commander, sir, or his surname. There has few people who he has tolerated nicknames from in his past and they are no longer part of his life. Graham has two adult children he knows about, aged 21 and 18. He has employed both of them. Dr. Herbert Bonheur Head of Medicine “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. Forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad.” Name Herbert H. Bonheur Appearance TBA Age Forty-Six Role Head of Medicine Personality Bonheur is admittedly rather obtuse given that his way of thinking isn’t exactly easy to understand by others; even fellow doctors. Coupled with a loose, casual demeanor and mannerisms that lead many to believe that the years of caffeine-induced dieting has led him to speak similar that may be a bit too quick for people to generally follow. Some consider Bonheur “insane” whilst others consider him “eccentric” but despite his terrible bedside manner and his abrasively blunt way of dealing with things Bonheur’s methods seems to always work. Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Best Medicial Pracitioner in Alaska Skilled Pharmacist Veteran Surgeon Notes TBA Dr. James Lofgren Head of NC Analysis “With only one minute to spare and you took down an opponent who seemed to have all of the advantages. Fascinating.” Name James M. Lofgren Appearance TBA Age Thirty-One Role NC Analyst Neurosurgeon Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Well-tested NC Analyst Skilled Neurosurgeon Skilled Psychologist & Therapist Notes TBA Valdislav Kuznetsov Head of Engineering “Quote” Name Valdislav S. Kuznetsov Appearance TBA Age Fifty-Five Role Senior Engineering Officer Mechanic Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Notes TBA Matthew Alvarez Operations Administrator “Your complaints are unfounded, I assure you that everything is going according to plan. Sit down.” Name Matthew L. Alvarez Appearance TBA Age Twenty-Six Role Operations Administrator Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Eidetic Memory Veteran Administrative Assistant Skilled Clerk Notes TBA Katarina Poux Engineering Officer “I just wish there was a way these beautiful machines could be used for good and not evil. There is such opportunity for them to be utilized for good.” Name Katarina “Kat” Poux Appearance Katarina is easy on the eyes when she is cleaned up, but due to her constant tweaking of machinery she tends to have a oil and dust-spotted appearance. Her hair is black that is worn long or in a messy ponytail depending on her time management and awareness. Her eyes are a perceptive hazel and her choices of attire are generally engineering jumpsuits and uniforms; rarely does Katarina remember what it was like to wear loose ‘feminine’ type clothing. Katarina is about average height for her ethnicity and age, setting in at around 5’6”. Age Twenty-Five Role Junior Engineering Officer Personality Katarina is upbeat and chirpy despite her “muddy” profession, choosing to be welcoming and optimistic rather than cynical and realistic. Whilst some might consider her an annoyance, her energy and emotions do set a mood amongst the engineering staff that leads to a good morale boost. However, with the shadow of death this disposition can be damaged and inverted; thus revealing a sort of “hot” and “cold” dynamic to her personality. However, Katarina tries very hard to not be downbeat and thinks things forward and not backward; she had done such dwelling on negative emotions when she was younger after all. Backstory The daughter of a NC pilot and a weapons engineer, Kat has been surrounded by big machines with complex machinery her entire life. A background that would bring the young girl to study all things mechanical and electrical which led to an astute understanding of mechs and traditional armored vehicles alike. Around the age of thirteen years old the world revealed itself to be much more harsh than she had been led to believe despite her parents professions being blatantly a product of their warlike environment. This tragedy was the death of her mother, Piana, when her independent NC was overwhelmed in combat. The effects of said death would bring her father to alcoholism and retirement from working on new NC weapon schematics and prototypes. Kat would go on following in the footsteps of who her father was before the accident and became an exceptional mechanic and designer in her own right., though she couldn’t seem to escape stigmas about her or her family wherever she went. By the age of twenty, following her instruction as an engineer she found herself in the employ of one of the big corporations: Fairbanks. Several months ago she quit her position as an aspiring engineer at Fairbanks due to various reasons and found herself in league with New Anchorage. Tactical Preference & Skills Skilled NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Weapons Designer Notes TBA Ingram Kalfox Financial & Intelligence Agent “It is so nice to see the youth looking optimistically towards their future— and the more ruthless of us trying to redeem their path in life. It brings hope for our time.” Name Ingram Kalfox Appearance TBA Age 43-56 Role Operations Economist Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Comprehensive Knowledge of International NC Pilots Skilled Businessman & Economist Notes TBA Rebecca Marek Operations Commander “---” Name Rebecca “Reb” Marek Appearance TBA Age 28-36 Role Military Commander Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Experienced Soldier & Military Commander Veteran Anti-NC Special Operations Unit Talented in Tactical Analysis Skilled in CQC Marksman Notes TBA
56,135	1,536	101	1,318	425	PERCYMESS HALL, N.A. FACILITY The red-headed pilot could only stare in disbelief at Graham as he started out. Graham couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t have been. Percy’s gaze then settled on the young orange-haired girl, still not wanting to believe what he was seeing. What was this guy thinking? Was the child aware of how much danger she was in? How old was she exactly? She only looked about Vera’s age, so where were this child’s parents? Would this be the first time she’s done this? It didn’t look like it, but she might not have been adequately informed about how dangerous being a pilot is. There were so many awful questions buzzing in his head that he almost felt nauseous. Kids really shouldn’t be in this kind of environment as far as he was concerned, but was he really one to talk? His daughter was right next to him... “Dad?” “No,” Percy said, starting to stand up, trying to keep Graham in his sights. He knew that his daughter more than likely wanted to meet Ryn, but he was wary of that for the simple reason he couldn’t supervise it. Percy forced himself to breathe, speaking in a less stern tone, “Just stay there, okay?” He’d glance over to her, but he didn’t want to lose sight of his commander. Percy had to do something - every fiber of his being was screaming at him to do something. Even if Graham only had Ana run through the test and insisted that she wasn’t going to be forced into anything, if Graham was willing to hire a child pilot - even thinking those words doesn’t sit right with him - who’s to say that he won’t find some reason to go back on his word? He didn’t even realize he was so worked up until he caught up to the man in uniform. “Graham.” Graham groaned as Percy nearly chased him down, the pacing of the footsteps fairly obvious as the two stopped in the main corridor leading away from the Mess Hall. The impatience and disinterest in dealing with one of his pilots when he specifically said he was busy was obvious but nonetheless he composed himself before turning around to answer Percy. “Moore. I’ve got a meeting but if you need me to, I can spare you a few minutes. Can we make this productive and quick?” Percy forced himself to stand at attention like he had been told to during training, looking slightly embarrassed at his outburst. But he felt that he was justified in having it. Even if he felt justified, he didn’t want a repeat of two weeks ago. Percy dared having the thought that maybe he’d be able to actually react, given the circumstances, but at the same time, he wanted this to be concise and to the point just as much as Graham did. He gave himself another moment to think about how he was going to tackle the issue in his head, unaware of how his position slacked as he spoke. “It’s, uh.. It’s just that Ryn looks awfully young, sir. Is she old enough to be doing this?” Graham took a light breath, a half-chuckle leaving his breath. “That’s your concern? Oh, good.” “Why would that not concern me? The kid looks twelve!” “I believe she’s recently turned thirteen. Anyway, Ryn Dradht has been an independent pilot for three-to-four years now, she’s got the experience and interest in helping us so we hired her. She’s got a bit of a reputation but by all accords she’d probably tell you that she is very much old enough to do this.” “The fact she’s thirteen doesn’t make it any better,” Percy spat. The face he made after the comment made him realize that he might’ve stepped a little out of line, but as far as he was concerned he wasn’t backing down now. “The world is what the world is, Moore. What do you want me to tell you? That girl is plenty experienced for the job here and has the nerve to prove it. She approached us with the contract and she signed on the proverbial dotted line.” “She approached you? No other adults involved?” Percy looked absolutely bewildered. Before Graham could reply, Percy continued, “Where are her parents? I might have to talk to them and make sure they know-” Graham nodded, “She sent us a digital inquiry a week ago— she was worried she missed our recruitment drive. As for her parents? They’ve been deceased or gone from her life for awhile now, but I imagine if you want the big details on that you’d have to talk to her about it, presuming she’s willing to share.” The pilot looked like he had so much more to say - some things rude, some things a little more productive, but either way, he couldn’t find his voice to actually ask what was on his mind. It wasn’t like his worldview was shattered or anything extreme like that, it was simply concerning that Graham even thought that was a good idea. Ryn might not be at the level of emotional development needed , and doing something filled with so much tragedy and death at thirteen would definitely stunt her, if it didn’t already. However, Graham did say that she had been doing this for four years… “She was doing this since she was nine?” Percy spoke a bit slowly, like he didn’t even want to ask that. The thought made his head spin. “She was nine?” “Yeah, I’ve been doing it since I was nine. You have a problem with that?” The voice cut from behind Percy’s shoulder, evidently Ryn’s curiosity had gotten the better of her and followed Percy. He jumped and turned to see the shorter girl looking at him with narrowed brows, obviously looking displeased by the comments she heard. “No- we-well, yes,” Percy stuttered, trying to keep his tone the same. He didn’t expect to be talking to her and Graham at the same time, “Yes, I do, but- It’s not your fault, of course, but-” “I mean, it is my fault considering I sort of asked for it. But I guess you wouldn't know, that since you think you know me after less than a minute of seeing me. Tch, who the fuck do you think you are?” She mouthed, her tone oozing in confidence and profane attitude; an attitude that caused Graham to chuckle. “I’ll leave you two to it. I’m running late.” Graham commented before Percy could react, leaving the two pilots to their conversation. Was it weird that Percy felt the slightest bit intimidated by a thirteen year old? Yes, but given everything, it didn’t really surprise him. He didn’t expect her to be so sarcastic. He addressed the first thing that came to mind, though, “No, I never said you asked for it, I- It’s concerning that-” He gave himself a second to he could actually gather his thoughts and quit stumbling over his words. Worry in his voice, he dared to ask, ”A-are you being watched by anyone? A, an uncle, or a family friend, or-” She laughed point blank. “Ha! As if I need an ‘adult’ to watch me. I watch myself, thanks. I don’t need a stuttering know-it-all to know what to do. Shouldn’t you be minding your own business, anyway?” “It didn’t seem right that a child's being put in this situation,” Percy tried to explain, “You should be in school still, learning.. Whatever it is they’re teaching now!” “And who are you to decide what is right or what I should be learning? Geeze, I didn’t realize I’d see the moral high ground from a pilot who kills other people for a living.” Ryn sighed as she looked to Graham for a moment, “What a hypocrite.” “I haven’t killed anyone,” Percy said, “I’ve done the best I can to keep that from happening.” The girl shook her head as she heard Percy’s comments. “A NC pilot who hasn’t killed ever? And is like fifty years old? What a loser.” The redheaded pilot’s face actually flushed at that comment. He didn’t think he looked that old. Sure, it could just be her being a little turd child, but he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Ana’s always been very bluntly honest, so he thought maybe Ryn was doing the same. “I’m actually thirty-two, for your information.” “Look, I don’t care if you are thirty thousand years old - I care that you’re coming at me with this bullshit like you know what’s best when you don’t. I know what is best for me; end of story. You aren’t my parent, guardian, friend, or boss, so how about you go off into the bathrooms over there and go cry like a little baby? 'Cause that’s all I hear when you speak now - baby noises. Wah. Wah. Now if you excuse me, Mr. Babyman, I’m going to go return to the mess and eat my first lunch. Later. Don’t drown in your tears.” Percy had never wanted to spank a child, but there he was, wanting to discipline her with physical assault. He let himself exhale slowly, the look on his face saying everything. He wasn’t going to cry, he was just very, very angry. But he knew he was better than hitting a kid; he prided himself on not using physical discipline on Ana, and he wasn’t going to go and hit someone else’s kid. But if Ryn was his kid she would definitely be bent over his leg and spanked at least three times. At least. Who does she think she is talking down to someone who is much older? She literally had to look up at him for fuck’s sake! All the more reason to keep her away from Ana. He thought to himself, going ahead and following a little ways behind Ryn so he could go back to his comparatively angelic little girl and finish his lunch, too.	Percy J. Moore Age: 32 Role: > Support Appearance: He's a pretty average looking guy. He's about 5 ft 8in, 167 lbs. He has red hair and freckles all over his body, suggesting he's at least a little Irish. At least a little. Even though everything else about him seems warm and inviting, his eyes are a cool gray blue. Some people have told him he looks a little girly, but his stubble shows otherwise. He also has a little bit of a nose on him. Normally, he'd wear a blue jean jacket with a faux fur collar with a dark sandy brown turtleneck underneath, light jeans with dark long-johns underneath, and some worn but sturdy leather-y hiking boots (with socks, of course). He also has a set of more intimidating black steel toed boots, but he doesn't wear those very often. He also has two silver rings on his left hand. One is his wedding ring, the other is his wife's. The glasses shown in the picture are merely for reading. (I just couldn't keep the glasses-wearing Percy to myself tho like look at him) Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) He's got one or two screws a little bit loose.. He's paranoid, temperamental, overprotective and has a very hard time relaxing. Under all that he's really just scared. He's scared for his daughter and himself. He doesn't want his girl to end up like her mother - dead - or him - an emotional mess that's barely got his shit together. If you can get through the barrier to the guy underneath it, you've got yourself a friend that's gonna have your back 99% of the time. Backstory: He was living an average life that was as comfortable as it can be in a wasteland with his mother and father in Smith's Rest.. maybe even a little bit sheltered. After moving out of the house so he can have some time to really figure out who he was as a person, his parents died shortly after because of a disease that was spreading across the settlement. A few years after that, and after a few romps with some other people, he met a lovely woman that was just a year older than him - Laura. Laura was, in his eyes, very pretty, very intelligent, and very much the yin to his yang. They just clicked. They had a child out of wedlock, but they married after their little girl, Ana, was born. A few months later, as they were finally settled into parenthood and Percy thought that maybe everything's alright, Laura was killed in an accident in her workplace. Percy had to tackle parenthood alone. He did awfully at first - Laura was a much better parent than he was at that point in time - but he gradually got better. Ana grew up to be a bright eyed little girl. He took the job because he was in need of the huge sum of money promised. He thought he could just get in, get out, be over with it.. It'd be easy! He was so, so wrong - he figured that one out after the surgery to get his plug.. That's what he gets for not reading the fine print. After dealing with a surprise attack on Smith's Rest, he's gotten meaner and a little less forgiving. Then, after the events of the Navy attack, his NC was damaged to the point it locked up, was able to be toppled, and the right side of his body was mangled pretty badly - so badly in fact, on top of breaking his leg, he lost his hand. His face was luckily kept in tact. He's back into what Sophia called the unfair game with much hesitance.. he prays he doesn't lose any more body parts. Tactical Preference & Skills: > He'd rather stay away from bloodshed if he can, but if he can't, sticking close to the team would be his second choice. He has a very strong desire to protect those around him, even if they're in huge mechas, making him an adequate support. > If he was to do a solo mission and the only person he has to worry about is himself (and he's confident that he'll be fine), he would find no issues with getting his metal hands dirty. Or oily, I guess. Notes: > He hates getting drunk - not because of what it does to him, but because his hangovers are awful > He has pistol that's been passed down for generations upon generations. It's technically obsolete, but he's very good at using it. > He also has a pocket knife that was a sort of "parting gift" from Sophia (the former commander). > He has a prosthetic hand now. He both hates it and kind of totally loves it. > His sync rate is around 75-90%, depending on his mental state. Text Color: LightSteelBlue, or b0c4de Codename: Papa Mike Appearance:: Looks clunkier and heavier than it really is. Basic metallic black paint with white accents. Has a couple dings here and there, but it's not affecting anything major. Older model modified to meet standards of the present, really. Body & Type: > Bipedal > Originally designed to be semi-proficient at most tasks. Has been modified to be faster and more powerful than the original. Equipment: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > Slightly damaged stock neural computer - a bug in the computer is that it calls Percy "Micheal" instead of "Percy." Percy has tried to fix it but is afraid he'll break something else. He's not a coder for fuck's sake. > Above-average thrusters specifically designed for short bursts of speed > Slightly above average generator Armaments: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > VEKW-01.65 (New-Anchorage Custom - 35 rounds, mid-to-long-range) > PPB-2.71 (New-Anchorage Custom - melee (laser sword), standard white in color) Small Standard Fairbanks-Model missile launcher on the back (3 missile burst, long-range) random tidbits (will be added to as I think of things) > Before the NC was Percy's, it belonged to a guy named Michael who was actually an assault/support for his squad.. hence the computer calling him "Michael" :P Ana L. Moore The redhead is Ana. The ushanka girl is Vera Age: 8 Appearance: She's just past the average height of girls her age, being 4ft 2in, but she's underweight at 50 lbs. She shares many of her father's physical traits, just softened (especially her nose). She also has his red hair and freckles - her freckles are more in her face, however. Her eyes are a very lovely shade of green. She's usually wearing a pink and white striped sweater that's beaten up from being worn so often, some dark pants that are equally as beat up, and some shoes that are so worn it's probably time for new ones. She has what she would call "a dumb monkey hat with stupid looking gloves that match" that she really would prefer not to wear (she's eight, not FIVE), but her father makes her wear it sometimes when it's colder than usual. Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) Despite all that's happened, she's still very optimistic and caring. She's got a will made of titanium and she's braver than she realizes she is - even braver than her father, who she feels is the bravest person in the whole world. She's a little bit like her father in the sense that she also has a touch of a temper as well... maybe not a touch. Backstory: She was born to Laura and Percy. She never knew her mother, because she died when she was little. When the surprise attack in Smith's Rest happened, she was almost taken away for who knows what purpose. Almost. She was saved, but her perceptions of the world changed pretty drastically. She didn't know just how scary the world was till then. She's slowly learning to deal with the nightmares, but she probably won't like confined spaces very much. Notes: > She stole a box of crayons from the school once. She still has that box of crayons. > She absolutely loves dogs. Puppies are awesome. > She is very much capable of taking care of herself.. for the most part. > She's a bit clumsy - she has a very tiny, almost unnoticeable scar on her nose, between her eyes. she walked into a door frame when she was little. > Birthday is August 7th. Text Color: Violet or ee82ee
56,136	1,536	102	1,524	552	VERA and RYNBarracks/Mess Hall, New Anchorage The sound of scraping metal accompanied Vera as she dragged a chair out into the hall, echoing off of the metal walls. She knew lunch would be the best time for this, everyone would be gone to the cafeteria to eat, she could make all the noise she wanted. Still, every absurdly loud scratch sent a cringe up her spine, pulled her face into a wince, and she was glad when at last the chair was settled against the wall. About ten feet up was the vent, one of the few that kept the corridor temperate. She made sure the chair was aligned properly beneath it, seat against the wall back facing out, then scurried back into the room. This time she came out not with a chair, but with the naked twin-sized mattress from her cot. It wasn’t too heavy, she found, but she had to waddle to keep it from sliding off of her back, and even then the end dragged against the floor. Oh well, at least it was quiet. With some effort she managed to lay the narrow mattress against the chair, creating a sharp incline that led just under the vent. A sly, proud smile cut across her face, quickly chased by a giggle of excitement. There were likely easier ways to reach the vent, in fact there were better hiding places in general, but none of them were as fun to access. ”Alright, alright, you got this,” she mumbled, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet. ”Easy peasy.” Vera dashed forward onto the mattress, and suddenly every grumpy thought she’d ever had about how stiff it was turned to praise. It held her up well, yielding enough for confident footholds but not enough to cave thanks to the support from the chair. At one half of the moment she had reached the top, linking her fingers into the thick flutes of the vent just as the mattress tilted in beneath her, and at the other, she was practically dangling on the wall. Frantically she grabbed a small book tucked to the waistline of her pants. Thin enough to fit into the vent shaft, with a string tied to it that was kept bundled up beneath the cover, with only a few inches left to hang out in the open. Inconspicuous, out of the way, at least that was the hope. She slid it in just as the mattress flopped away, and she had to rely solely on the strength of her arms. That didn’t last long. ”Oh god—“ she dropped, sliding down the wall, and, much to her relief, flat onto the mattress with an “oof”, and another excited round of laughter. From there it was only a matter of putting everything away, a process she made sure to be quieter about now that it was closer to the end of lunch. Vera was sure she wouldn’t need to grab the little journal for at least a couple weeks. Whenever the operation would be. She paused fitting the mattress back onto the bed, and felt a flutter in her stomach, like the kind she’d feel before going to get a shot. Over time she’d come to realize that the worst part was the waiting, the pacing around at home, the sitting in a waiting room, and that the actual deal was over in a moment. The surgery would be different, now she was certain all of the anxiety was justified, that there would be no quick in and out. She kept hearing Stein’s descriptions in her head, before she went to sleep, when she woke up. But louder than all of that she remembered: ”This is nothing if you want it.” And that was enough to keep her fears in check. Everything done, she locked up the room and started off for the mess hall. It’d taken her a bit longer than she’d expected to hide the journal, but she figured there was just enough time to grab something small to nibble on. That was of course before she actually arrived, and saw that not only did there seem to be enough time for a proper meal, but there was also someone new, someone young, though not quite as young as Ana. Maybe she and the new girl were the same age? That’d be nifty, she hadn’t known anyone her age growing up, but then, the Jackspar house wasn’t a very sociable one. Either way, she was grinning madly again, and scrambled into the cafeteria, stopping only long enough to give an enthusiastic wave to Ana and Percy on her way to the new girl. ”Heya!” she chimed, rearing up beside Ryn and rattling off more of her greeting. ”I’m Vera, it’s nice to meet you! You’ve got really pretty hair, y’know that? What’s your name?” The orange-haired girl raised a brow with fork in hand as she looked towards Vera, her expression decidedly unimpressed at the moment. But Vera was confident she could change her mood. “Ryn, and thanks. Your hair isn’t so bad either, though it’d be easier to tell without the... hat y’know.” A sly smirk pursed into the girl’s lips as she casually dove her fork down into the food on her plate, her eyes remaining on the blonde-haired girl who had sprung up the conversation. So far so good, Vera figured, the girl was already smiling. She glanced up at her own forehead, having once again forgotten the hat was even there. Dang thing had become like a second layer of skin, so she supposed it was only natural, but even still Ryn had a point. Swiping it off, she gave her head a shake to let her hair down, laughing again. ”It’s cool to see another kid around, there’s only the two of us, and you now! What brings ya?” Ryn grabbed a bite of the chopped meat on the fork before offering a response— twirling the now empty fork in-between her fingers she leaned back slightly as she appeared to think about it for a quick moment. “Same as everyone else, I guess. Credits. Giant Robots. Stuff. Sure isn’t being told I’m a ‘little bitty kid and should be doing my homework while the big adults do the heavy lifting’. Tch.” Vera’s eyes went wide, her smile hovering on the edge of excitement. ”You’re a pilot?” “Well, obviously. Aren’t you?” ”Ahuh!” Vera said, nodding only to falter. ”Uh...well, actually, no, not yet. I gotta do that surgery. But then yeah! Wow, that’s so cool, how long have you been one? “Well, ‘round four years now.” It took a minute for Vera to register what that meant, and part of her wanted to blurt out that Ryn started younger than even Stein had, but she managed to keep her cool. At least, in a way that meant she was practically bouncing in her seat. ”That’s so cool, you must be gettin’ really good!” “Well, we have a saying in the indie circuit— get good or get dead; so I got good.” ”Oof, so grim!” Vera giggled. ”Guess even out there everyone’s super serious.” “Sometimes. Wasn’t ‘xactly taken seriously at first.” She pointed with her hand toward Percy who was at the far end of the table, “’cuz you’re a kid oh my god where is your adult?! Fuckin’ morons. I am the adult! But guess who’s not awesome and who are obviously losers? Them.” To say the sudden, biting turn Ryn took didn’t catch Vera off-guard would have been a lie. There definitely seemed to be more fire in the girl than just her hair, and while she couldn’t say she agreed with everything Ryn had said, she also couldn’t pretend like she understood it. Nevertheless, Vera laughed it off. ”Who, Percy? Nah, he’s cool, he’s been here one of the longest! Everyone here is pretty cool, actually. Everyone left, anyway. We had some cool people here before too, but some of’em moved on.” “Well, I had a talk with that loser outside and he totally thinks he’s hot shit and can tell me how to live my life, and let me tell you— he’s not. I’d like to shove my fist down his “I’m an adult” presumptuous babyhead. Nobody tells Ryn Dradht what to do but Ryn Dradht.” Ryn seemed pretty confident in her distaste for Percy, which didn’t come as too much of a surprise. She wasn’t the first to dislike him, and thus far she wasn’t the worse either. “Anyway, yeah that’s how it goes. People cash in and leave. I’ve been in tons of outfits and seen people cop out and whatever. Never had a real team though, so this is kinda new and stuff. Here’s hoping this will at least be a little fun.” Vera was glad that Ryn carried the conversation on, more than willing to change the topic. ”I think it will be! Everything’s better with a few helping hands, y’know?” She might have waited for a response, in fact Vera might have been perfectly content talking with the new girl for the rest of the lunch period. But she got a stark reminder of her own hunger in the way of an almost embarrassingly loud growling from her stomach. She looked down as though a sharp look might silence it, but ended up giggling to herself again. ”Boy, I really oughta grab something. Hey, if I don’t catcha later, I’m always around the dorms, or with Ana. Oh! You should meet her, she’s awesome, I bet you guys would get along great!” Ryn shrugged. “Iunno. But yeah, we’ll chat later if you don’t sit back down here, I guess. Going to be seeing a lot of me around anyway.” Vera grinned, hopping up off of the seat and starting for the line of food. ”Lookin’ forward to it! See ya!”	Elizabeth Jackspar Age 21 Role Melee Skirmisher Appearance A life dedicated to training has left Eli with a lean, athletic form. An albino, her skin is chalk-white, her long hair a similar color, and her eyes holding a glassy-blue hue. She has a hard gaze and straight posture, like a soldier constantly at attention. Despite this, she’s prone to wearing civilian clothes when things are quiet. Scarves strike her fancy, and she’ll often wear them high on her neck over her mouth, but she’s also prone to gloves and arm warmers. Personality Cold and dismissive to anyone that isn’t her superior, compliant and dutiful to all others with an underlying layer of competitiveness beneath everything. A quick, calculating mind and fast reflexes make Eli a good soldier, but little else unfortunately. In her early teenage years, Eli began suffering from severe and sudden panic attacks, often leaving her an unresponsive wreck. Not knowing how such incidents would affect her daughter's future, her mother went to great lengths to keep the affliction a secret from future potential employers. After a handful of years the attacks decreased in both frequency and intensity without professional assistance, which made concealing them much easier. Tactical Preference/Skills Eli excels in melee combat, preferring swords to firearms and speed to durability. While her specialty is quick execution, she can handle prolonged confrontations, especially against a single opponent. Background ”Eli” Eli was eight years old when she learned her name was short for “Elizabeth”. Her mother, the librarian recluse Celina Jackspar, had used it once, the first time she’d cried during her training. ”Get up, Elizabeth. Now. And never cry in front of me again.” And she never did. The Jackspars might have been lepers for how little they interacted with the world. Confined to a modestly sized library nestled in the corner of what was then “Smith’s Rest”, few ever visited, and fewer were actually aware the spindly, aged woman had a child. With little to their name aside from cases and piles of books, it would not have been unreasonable to assume the family would contribute nothing great to the world. Celina would not allow such an outcome. The training began early, and never slackened. Eli learned from a young age what she was, and would be. She did not attend school, she did not socialize with peers, she rarely left the library at all. Her life was dedication, she had to let go of the urges to want, and focus entirely on the future. ”Up.” And she got up. The Jackspars could afford no firearms, and so forewent practicing them. Instead it was decided that Eli would master the art of melee combat in their absence. Lyosha Voloshyna, a carpenter and one of the family’s only “friends”, happily supplied them with wooden models of various swords, ranging from the typical and familiar, to the foreign and unique. Eli was made to train with them day in and day out. They would not be weapons held, they would be extensions of her own body, or she would fall short. Countless other prospective pilots had the advantage of proper training, they could afford to be merely “adequate” so long as they rounded out a checklist and passed the neural exam. ”I don’t want you on-par, I want you better. Keep going.” And she would. Hour after hour Eli practiced, submitting herself to the forms and tests of balance. By the time she was in her middle teens, picking up a sword felt like raising her hand, swinging felt like punching. Her threshold for pain was pushed further each day, and every time she kept her mouth shut, kept her face calm, she would catch the ghost of a smirk flicker over her mother’s face. Moving had become a dance, and she was the prima. When she was fifteen, a practice sword broke in her hand, splintering midway down the blade. It was old, nothing unexpected, and the shattering caused her no physical harm. All the same Eli froze, wide eyes fixated on the broken blade, and her arm, then the girl collapsed in a fit of agony. Celina watched, shocked. ”Get up.” But she didn’t. ”Elizabeth, get. Up.” But she couldn’t. It took all of her strength not to cry. It was her first major incident, and the only one Celina ever saw. It took a few years to realize they weren’t going to stop, and seeking professional psychiatric help would murder Eli’s chances at becoming a pilot, so Celina resolved to handle the situation in her own way. Eli knew Eli. Celina knew Elizabeth. ”Stop shaking.” And she would. The final years leading up to application were smooth by Celina’s standards. Her daughter was sharp, fast, resilient, and above all, obedient. She would protect Smith’s Rest, she would protect its people, and she would do so under the instruction of whosoever commanded the forces. Second to her, of course. ”Don’t disappoint me.” And she wouldn’t. -Helped defeat Knight and Rook alongside Percy Moore, Madison Cole, John Strange, and Joe Verona -Took on her younger sister, Vera, as an “assistant” -Bonded with the previous commander, Sophia -Suffered a gruesome defeat at the first assault on Smith’s Rest -Shaken by Sophia’s desertion Text Color: color=6ecff6 Example. Blur :Body-Plan: Blur is a humanoid, bipedal NC, designed to move and strike quickly. Its armor is lacking, but a myriad of thrusters allow not only for fast evasive maneuvers, but also for gap-closing on enemies. :Type/Quality: Blur is designed to be an up-close-and-personal NC, meant to close in on key targets before engaging in a melee assault. In this, Blur excels, and should the enemy be unequipped for close-range combat, they may have trouble. However range is her crux, and while Blur is good at evading enemy fire, should one corner her from far enough away, there is little she can do to get out of the situation. Though Eli would never admit it, Blur works best with, and sometimes even requires a team. :Equipment: -Sets of thrusters allowing for enhanced mobility and sustained flight. -Flare caches for more difficult evasive maneuvers. -Targeting system designed to track a single enemy and suggest/allocate NC power to close the distance in the quickest/most effective manner. Suggestions are automatic, control/execution is manual. :Armaments: -Standard-Issue NC Beam Sword -PPB-2.71 “Plasma Sword” (Purchased) -Deployable “Finger-Claws” (New-Anchorage Custom) -Set of demolition charges sized for NC's. The charges are kept as two separate components that are combined individually in their storage to become armed as needed, so as to avoid detonation from trauma to the housing NC. --- Vera Voloshyna (Left, Ana Moore. Right, Vera Voloshyna) Age 13 Appearance Vera’s short, her blonde hair equally so, and her eyes are vibrant, lively green. She’s taken to dressing like Eli in some cases, with scarves and hoodies and the like, and generally has smudges of dirt or oil on her face. One of her front teeth bears a chip to it. Personality Vera is both easily excitable and hard to bring down. The girl almost always has a smile on her face whether something fun is happening or not, and tends to be more on the gullible side. Background Vera’s parents were at Smith’s Rest long before she was born. Her mother was a doctor, and as Vera understands it she helped Ms. Jackspar deliver her daughter not long after their arrival, and it wasn’t until more than a decade later that she herself was born. Their families grew close, and Ms. Jackspar took on a completely different, warmer persona around the Voloshynas. When Vera was two, she spent much of her time being babysat by them, when she was five, she had managed to befriend Ms. Jackspar’s daughter, Elizabeth. When she was six, her parents vanished. The family had received threats multiple times over the course of their stay from residents none too fond of the Russian Volkov Security. The Voloshyna’s tried in vain to explain they held no part in the company’s actions, but when at last the threats turned to violence, they had no choice. The letters never addressed their daughter, perhaps because she spent so much time with the Jackspars it was assumed she was just another one of them. Regardless, when Vera’s parents fled they took the opportunity to leave her in the care of their friend, who agreed without complaint or protest. The girl did the rest of her growing up around Elizabeth, and the two grew incredibly close. She did not receive the same harsh training as Elizabeth but Ms. Jackspar did teach her a few tricks to keeping well in the settlement. -Due to an increasingly dangerous home environment, Celina sent her to "assist" Eli on-base. -Survived the assault on Smith's Rest Text Color: color=662d91 Example.
56,137	1,536	103	1,700	2,624	T A H L I A S T Y L E S Hanger #8 - New Anchorage The pilots at New Anchorage were dropping like flies and in the last two weeks Tahlia had seen a fair few of them leave the compound, tail between their legs, whimpering that it was all too hard, all with the exception of one... The notorious Alexander Sky. Even on day one she knew that he would be one that caused trouble; remembering how she had to beat some common sense into the boy in order to force him to obey his master. Alexander was born a slave to the Red Star and he believed that he could fight his way his way into freedom. In this world, however, freedom was represented by the simple piece of metal that was fired out of the barrel of a gun and there was something ironic in the knowledge that Sky was now deceased while attempting to follow his delusional dream. This is where Tahlia had taken full advantage of the opportunity. "Easy!!! EASY!!!" Tahlia called out as she stood on top of her NC and guided the power cell into the Torso of the Spyder. For the past four days ever since Tahlia found out about the slave's death she had been instructing Thomas and Philip on how to carefully salvage a Red Star NC for replacement parts. The Power Cell was simply one piece that she had her eye on. "Will ya fucken look at that. She bloody fits! Haha! And it's tighter than a nun's nasty." The cigarette was bought up to the mouth and rested between her lips as she applauded the effort of the team achieving something remarkable. For the Aussie this was Christmas all over again and it meant that she was one step closer to being back in the killing game. "Tahlia, it's past twelve. We've got this covered if you wanted to go for some lunch," a voice from the crane cockpit yelled out towards the Pilot. Thomas' words prompted Tahlia to pull out her Datapad and check the time, realising that he was correct and that she should have a break. "Fair enough" Tahlia replied as she made her way over to the hoist in order to let herself down from the top of the NC. Tahlia wandered down the hallway in order to enter the Mess Hall, drawing the last few puffs of her cancer stick so that all that was left was the yellow filter. She was about to flick away the cigarette when she noticed an orange hair child pass through the entrance doors with Percy following behind him. "Ey, ey, eyy!" she announced, holding up the back of her hand in order to stop the father in his tracks. It was probably the closest Tahlia had been to him seeing as how she made little effort to get to know the other pilots. "Who's the shrimp you're following like a creepy old man?" Tahlia looked at Percy noting that her taunt was possibly adding to that annoyed expression, either that or he was already in that mood for some reason. It was something she had seen a few times before whenever his little one was causing mischief in the lunch room, giving him a reason to scold the child and tell her to behave. Whatever the case the scene that Tahlia witnessed didn't make sense to her and considering what had been happening lately, she wanted to make sure she knew exactly exactly what was going on and who any new people were.	Name: Jan van Gent Appearance:Jan stands at 1.65 meters tall. He has fair skin, dark-blonde hair styled shortly and combed to the side. He has little standards concerning the clothes he wears, usually wearing whatever he managed to get on the cheap from a clothes vendor. The only criterium to him is that something needs to be functional. It doesn't need to be pretty or graceful, it just needs to work. Age: 27 Role: Flanking/ counter-CQC Personality :A rash and boorish man by nature. Jan is a spirited individual with a somewhat cruel streak to his actions. He doesn't particularly mind if other people are served by his actions, but is ultimately mostly in it for himself. Despite this though, he places great value on loyalty and mutual respect, even if it is for the slightly pragmatic reason that a long-time partner is the best partner. Backstory: A storied and grizzled independent. Jan van Gent was never part of the big five, instead operating with all sorts of factions all over the world as a mercenary contractor. He has probably fought with and against every major player on the current global stage, switching allegiances in quieter periods when hsi current employer's funds dried up, though always taking care not to antagonize anyone enough to draw the wrong sort of attention. A recent stint as a volkov subcontractor saw Jan assigned to New Anchorage. Political machinations above his control then saw volkvov retract their support, with jan's contract being terminated in the fallout. Jan simply shrugged and renegotiated a direct contract with New Anchorage's commander. Just another day on the job. Tactical Preference & Skills: Jan has great proficiency and experience at spotting and exploiting oppurtunities in a tactical situation. He has very good aim with all equipped weapons even at high speeds. He can concentrate on whatever his current target is without anything feasibly breaking his stride, though he is suspectible to a sort of tactical tunnel vision as well. Notes: Jan returns from the previous thread. Text Color: None due to player bias/laziness NC Codename: Goldenspur Appearance: The goldenspur is a grizzled mercenary machine, much like its pilot. Its frame is painted a muted black with gold details. While standing upright, its silhoutte is very visible due to its signature custom-built shoulder plates, somewhat resembling the skeletal wings of the winged hussar cavalry of old. These shoulder plates are folded over the NC's backside when in standby, but stretch to their full impressive length when shoulder weapons are deployed. Body & Type: A medium-class tank body. Original manufacturer is difficult to determine due to the amount of disparate custom parts mixed and matched to create the NC. Armor plating has been stripped and replaced with ligther variants on all sides save for the front to allow for greater manouverability. The NC has the unusual ability to fold downwards into a threaded tank-vehicle designed for speed and getaways. Equipment & Armaments: Goldenspur's main armament is a high-power plasma lance designed to punch through heavy armor and inflict catastrphic damage on internal systems. It requires a long pre-charge time and consumes most of the reactor's energy output when fired, also requiring a cooldown period afterwards. The goldenspur has two standard grade gimballed autoguns mounted on its shoulders. Energy consumption on them is low, and the caliber is sufficient to deal with most non-NC targets as well as posing a threat to NCs with lighter armor. In terms of defensive measures, the goldenspur has a standardized ECM array to deal with fire and forget missiles, a radar dampening coating on its armor, and a set of smoke launchers to disrupt visual contact. The smoke has a peculiar chemical composition that disperses lasers fired through it.
56,138	1,536	104	1,318	425	JOHN "JINGO" STRANGENew Anchorage Thump Thump Thump Thump Jingo stared at the wall in front of him with an expression that portrayed nothing but a man deep in exercise. Beneath him foot met treadmill with tremendous force as he sprinted in place, earbuds jammed into his head blaring loud music. The days he had spent in New Anchorage were slowly stacking up on top of him, day and night were nonexistent in the subterranean military base, so natural his perception of time became all but gone as day after day stitched themselves into one, long string of waking up, shooting and running. As a result he grew more and more distanced from the crew, as monotony dugs its claws into him and made any kind of interaction with other people brief and dull. Still staring blankly at the wall, track after track went by and sweat had completely soaked through his white shirt and made every crease and scar on his skin visible through damp fabric. A gentle tap on his shoulder brought him out of his trance like state, Jingo looked over his shoulder, still sprinting along. Rebecca Marek stood there, her arms crossed and the emotion in her eyes somewhere between concern and annoyance. "Everyone's cleared out already, John.." she began, reaching over the safety rail and holding down a button that brought the treadmill's conveyor to a slow stop, "Yet you're still here, you'll be late for lunch." Jingo didn't speak, he simply looked down at his bare feet like a child being chastised for doing something naughty. He would have much rather spent the day on the treadmill, due to lack of willingness to talk to anyone but he wasn't going to let that make him disobey a superior, he may have been a bit lax when it came to following orders but if he respected someone, he tended to do as they asked. Throwing his towel over his shoulder, Jingo clicked his heels, gaining the attention of his metallic hound, making it promptly skitter over and follow at his heels. As Jingo left the room, Rebecca looked at him with an expression of mild disbelief. " Strange one he is..." Jingo looked up, eyes closed in relaxation, he had skipped lunch not in the mood to eat right after such an intense round of conditioning. Water rained down on him from the shower head mounted in the ceiling, plastering his hair to his forehead and filling up his mouth via the hole in his cheek. Skitters stood quietly by his side, any water bouncing off of Jingo wetting his armor sides. Jingo reached out, a soft moan escaping his throat as he stretched his sore muscles, he grasped a bar of soap and held it under the water for a moment, letting the dry exterior break down into slippery suds. Bringing the bar of soap to his head, he rubbed perfumed bubbles into his hair until it was coated in a thick, white lather. Replacing the soap back into it's dish, he brought his right hand to his hay colored hair and began to work the suds into the coarse mat, rubbing his fingers into his scalp. As he washed, water dragged froth down his body, the black rubber sheet that was stapled taut against his torso glimmered in the frosty white light of the bathroom. Skitters plodded around in the shower, his metal paws clinking against the wet concrete basin, he dropped his snout into the water and made sniffing motions at the soap. Jingo shifted the robotic dog slightly so it wouldn't get soap on it's camera. "Now we don'ee wan' any soap on yer camera do we?" he chided, "Else you'll freak ou' again." the first time Skitters had joined Jingo in the shower he got soap on his camera lens, not being able to see, the robotic dog panicked, flailing in the slippery space and bringing Jingo down on top of him - Jingo reached behind him and applied lather against the bruise gently. "Now make yerself useful and play uz a track." Skitters padded out without being told twice, trailing wet paw prints as it rustled to Jingo's terminal. popping over the lip of the desk with the aid of his front legs, craning his neck forward he tapped the spacebar with his muzzle. A loading icon spun around on the display, Skitters' head following it around and around. In the short time Jingo had been at the facility, he had plunged into the common folders on the system and dredging up music from long untouched files, and much to his surprise they were mostly tracks he enjoyed. Jingo tapped his foot against the coarse concrete, nodding his head as he scrubbed his body. "Honey, Honey.." he mumbled, holding the soap in front of his face as if it were a microphone, "How you thrill me, aha. Honey, Honey.." The shower ended with the song, Jingo having scrubbed every nook and cranny he could get his fingers into; towel wrapped around his waist he looked at his reflection in the mirror, lifting and turning his head to afford him a better view of his now thick beard. Jingo contemplated shaving it, shaving it all, but he knew he wouldn't look quite like himself if he did. Then again 'Who cares? Jingo walked down the hall clean shaven, feeling a bit fresher after the shower and putting on a clean set of clothes. The jaunt in his step had returned, even if just a shadow. Turning into the mess hall, Jingo stood under the doorway for a few moments to process what he was seeing. " Bludy 'ell! Why are ye so shor'?! he exclaimed at Ryn.	Percy J. Moore Age: 32 Role: > Support Appearance: He's a pretty average looking guy. He's about 5 ft 8in, 167 lbs. He has red hair and freckles all over his body, suggesting he's at least a little Irish. At least a little. Even though everything else about him seems warm and inviting, his eyes are a cool gray blue. Some people have told him he looks a little girly, but his stubble shows otherwise. He also has a little bit of a nose on him. Normally, he'd wear a blue jean jacket with a faux fur collar with a dark sandy brown turtleneck underneath, light jeans with dark long-johns underneath, and some worn but sturdy leather-y hiking boots (with socks, of course). He also has a set of more intimidating black steel toed boots, but he doesn't wear those very often. He also has two silver rings on his left hand. One is his wedding ring, the other is his wife's. The glasses shown in the picture are merely for reading. (I just couldn't keep the glasses-wearing Percy to myself tho like look at him) Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) He's got one or two screws a little bit loose.. He's paranoid, temperamental, overprotective and has a very hard time relaxing. Under all that he's really just scared. He's scared for his daughter and himself. He doesn't want his girl to end up like her mother - dead - or him - an emotional mess that's barely got his shit together. If you can get through the barrier to the guy underneath it, you've got yourself a friend that's gonna have your back 99% of the time. Backstory: He was living an average life that was as comfortable as it can be in a wasteland with his mother and father in Smith's Rest.. maybe even a little bit sheltered. After moving out of the house so he can have some time to really figure out who he was as a person, his parents died shortly after because of a disease that was spreading across the settlement. A few years after that, and after a few romps with some other people, he met a lovely woman that was just a year older than him - Laura. Laura was, in his eyes, very pretty, very intelligent, and very much the yin to his yang. They just clicked. They had a child out of wedlock, but they married after their little girl, Ana, was born. A few months later, as they were finally settled into parenthood and Percy thought that maybe everything's alright, Laura was killed in an accident in her workplace. Percy had to tackle parenthood alone. He did awfully at first - Laura was a much better parent than he was at that point in time - but he gradually got better. Ana grew up to be a bright eyed little girl. He took the job because he was in need of the huge sum of money promised. He thought he could just get in, get out, be over with it.. It'd be easy! He was so, so wrong - he figured that one out after the surgery to get his plug.. That's what he gets for not reading the fine print. After dealing with a surprise attack on Smith's Rest, he's gotten meaner and a little less forgiving. Then, after the events of the Navy attack, his NC was damaged to the point it locked up, was able to be toppled, and the right side of his body was mangled pretty badly - so badly in fact, on top of breaking his leg, he lost his hand. His face was luckily kept in tact. He's back into what Sophia called the unfair game with much hesitance.. he prays he doesn't lose any more body parts. Tactical Preference & Skills: > He'd rather stay away from bloodshed if he can, but if he can't, sticking close to the team would be his second choice. He has a very strong desire to protect those around him, even if they're in huge mechas, making him an adequate support. > If he was to do a solo mission and the only person he has to worry about is himself (and he's confident that he'll be fine), he would find no issues with getting his metal hands dirty. Or oily, I guess. Notes: > He hates getting drunk - not because of what it does to him, but because his hangovers are awful > He has pistol that's been passed down for generations upon generations. It's technically obsolete, but he's very good at using it. > He also has a pocket knife that was a sort of "parting gift" from Sophia (the former commander). > He has a prosthetic hand now. He both hates it and kind of totally loves it. > His sync rate is around 75-90%, depending on his mental state. Text Color: LightSteelBlue, or b0c4de Codename: Papa Mike Appearance:: Looks clunkier and heavier than it really is. Basic metallic black paint with white accents. Has a couple dings here and there, but it's not affecting anything major. Older model modified to meet standards of the present, really. Body & Type: > Bipedal > Originally designed to be semi-proficient at most tasks. Has been modified to be faster and more powerful than the original. Equipment: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > Slightly damaged stock neural computer - a bug in the computer is that it calls Percy "Micheal" instead of "Percy." Percy has tried to fix it but is afraid he'll break something else. He's not a coder for fuck's sake. > Above-average thrusters specifically designed for short bursts of speed > Slightly above average generator Armaments: (will be added to/changed as the RP progresses) > VEKW-01.65 (New-Anchorage Custom - 35 rounds, mid-to-long-range) > PPB-2.71 (New-Anchorage Custom - melee (laser sword), standard white in color) Small Standard Fairbanks-Model missile launcher on the back (3 missile burst, long-range) random tidbits (will be added to as I think of things) > Before the NC was Percy's, it belonged to a guy named Michael who was actually an assault/support for his squad.. hence the computer calling him "Michael" :P Ana L. Moore The redhead is Ana. The ushanka girl is Vera Age: 8 Appearance: She's just past the average height of girls her age, being 4ft 2in, but she's underweight at 50 lbs. She shares many of her father's physical traits, just softened (especially her nose). She also has his red hair and freckles - her freckles are more in her face, however. Her eyes are a very lovely shade of green. She's usually wearing a pink and white striped sweater that's beaten up from being worn so often, some dark pants that are equally as beat up, and some shoes that are so worn it's probably time for new ones. She has what she would call "a dumb monkey hat with stupid looking gloves that match" that she really would prefer not to wear (she's eight, not FIVE), but her father makes her wear it sometimes when it's colder than usual. Personality: (this is more of a guideline than a set of hard and fast rules. People are complex, man.) Despite all that's happened, she's still very optimistic and caring. She's got a will made of titanium and she's braver than she realizes she is - even braver than her father, who she feels is the bravest person in the whole world. She's a little bit like her father in the sense that she also has a touch of a temper as well... maybe not a touch. Backstory: She was born to Laura and Percy. She never knew her mother, because she died when she was little. When the surprise attack in Smith's Rest happened, she was almost taken away for who knows what purpose. Almost. She was saved, but her perceptions of the world changed pretty drastically. She didn't know just how scary the world was till then. She's slowly learning to deal with the nightmares, but she probably won't like confined spaces very much. Notes: > She stole a box of crayons from the school once. She still has that box of crayons. > She absolutely loves dogs. Puppies are awesome. > She is very much capable of taking care of herself.. for the most part. > She's a bit clumsy - she has a very tiny, almost unnoticeable scar on her nose, between her eyes. she walked into a door frame when she was little. > Birthday is August 7th. Text Color: Violet or ee82ee
56,139	1,536	105	923	5,303	RYN & JINGOMESS HALL, NEW ANCHORAGE People in New Anchorage definitely knew how to give a girl a welcome and Ryn was beginning to feel a little bit of whiplash from the reactions she had gotten so far— almost to the point she coughed on her food in surprise. The question shot at her by the tall and eccentric man was one that Ryn was honestly not expecting. Her height was about the average of her age and she didn’t look older than she actually was, so the prospect of being assumed to not be a child at first glance was a little odd. But then again the people in New Anchorage definitely knew how to make her feel some sort of whiplash from the variously different reactions she had gotten thus far and the presumption that she was some sort of person with a height deficiency was pretty hilarious— so much so that she coughed on the food she had been eating in surprise. The orange-haired thirteen year old cleared her throat once it was apparent that she wasn’t going to choke on mashed vegetables and brown meat. As she looked up at the man before her she couldn’t help but think he was funny; and not just by the way he talked. “Huh? I’m not that short for my age, just so you know.” Jingo looked at her in turn for a moment, perplexed, the gears in his head grinding against each other painfully as he computed what he was hearing. “Wha’ de ye mean ‘fer yer age’?” He asked, the meaning behind her statement flying over his head. Either this guy was dim or he wasn’t thinking about the possibility that a teenager could be joining New Anchorage under any circumstances. Ryn let out a heavy sigh as she looked at him blankly before responding to him. “Do you have volts for brains or something? It’s obvious that I’m a kid, so… duh.” Pursing his lips, Jingo looked at the little girl that sat on the bench far below him, sticking his tongue out of the tear in the side of his face and biting it in thought. “Are ye trying te play games with me, lass? Coz if so, e’m very amused.” Ryn raised a brow— her experiences at New Anchorage were hardly consistently normal for her, even with the previous introductions she had to make at other places where she had been employed briefly. First there was Commander Graham who didn’t treat her one way or the other and just wanted to get on to business, then there was Percy Moore who condescended and belittled her whilst acting like a stuttering moron, and finally there was Vera who was closer to her age and was the most welcoming person thus far. And now there was this person and whatever this conversation was. The tonal shift was going to give her a migraine. Why did things have to be confusing? A light sigh exited her voice as she set down her fork on the metal tray that held her food. “Nope.” She shook her head. “I’m a kid. Thirteen years old. You people up here are weird, do you know that? First I’m a kid and now I’m basically some kind of shortstack; what the literal fuck?” Jingo turned his head over his shoulder and spat, hitting Skitters straight in the muzzle, he winced for a moment, mouthing “sorry boy” before returning his attention to the little girl. The only girls Jingo had been use to were the little ones, Percy and Elizabeth’s children— they were pleasant, nice even, but this child was just odd. He plonked himself down in the seat in front of her, still dwarfing her, and scanned her face. “Ye shud wa’ch yer language.” “Why the fuck should I do that? I’ll speak how I want.” “Oi!” He yelled out, loud enough so that everyone in the mess hall stopped for a moment and turned to look, “Ye be’er watch yer mouf, or I'll break i’ for ye. We’re civilized folk, and we dun’ee swear all Willy nilly!” He looked at her with a mixture of anger and confusion, why was he even having this discussion? Ryn’s lips turned into a scowl as he raised his voice and decided that it was a good idea to threaten her. After Percy’s bullshit earlier she wasn’t going to stand for people telling her what she was going to do and it most certainly wasn’t in her character to be a scared little girl. If people wanted to fight she wasn’t going to back down; she never backed down. In response she acted on instinct as her hands curled into fists before she slammed them down without thinking. “Then fucking break it for me, fuckface! I’m not going to sit down like I’m scared of you! I am not afraid to kick your ass right here! If you want to fight, let’s fucking fight!” Jingo glared at the little girl, his eyes burning with rage - he brought his fist down on the table just as she did, sending her plate and tray into the air and onto a heap behind her. He was finding it hard to keep a straight face and slowly his glare disintegrated into a half-assed attempt of holding back a laugh. Something he couldn't quite do. The man burst out laughing, clutching his gut with his prosthetic hand but quickly regretted it as he pricked himself. “Ye shud ‘av seen te look on yer face!” Ryn blinked in utter disbelief at Jingo’s reaction to her— was he making fun of the idea that she could kick his ass or was it that she was so quick to step up? Whichever the case, she wasn’t quite sure what had just happened and her nerves began to slowly cool due to the absurdity of the whole endeavor that had just happened and after a minute of stiff silence… she chuckled. “The fuck is wrong with you? You’re crazy.” “Aye, I'm crazy.” He said through dying chuckles, “The name is John, though mos’ call me Jingo.” Jingo patted the spot by his side and Skitters hopped up with no objections. “And this ‘ere is Ski’ers, you'll see me in the Wessex. The li’le one with the machine guns.” “People who care to know me call me Ryn. I pilot the Phantasm. It’s like a normal NC but with sniper and artillery utility. It’s awesome.” “Yer the pilot of tha’ big, purple fucker?!” He exclaimed in bewilderment, “She is an awesome craf’, tha’s fer sure.” Jingo extended his prosthetic, giving her a broad smile, “It's a pleasure te have ye Ryn.” Ryn looked quizzically at the hand before carefully grabbing onto it with her hand. She didn’t want tetanus or something. “Yeah, you’re weird… but okay. I can deal with okay.” “Me sirname Is Strange.” Ryn nodded, managing another chuckle before she turned to the floor where the little food she had left was scattered before she casually placed her hands behind her head, a sigh leaving her lips. “I’m bored now.” “Wan’ee go shoo’ing?” He suggested, scratching Skitters metallic head. “Thanks, but nah. I’m just gonna go on a walk. Later.”	NPC DOSSIERS \| NEW ANCHORAGE NPCs \| Commander Michael Graham Commanding Officer & Operations Director “I don’t believe in children’s fantasies of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, I believe in the absolute principle of order— a concept that promotes excellence, professionalism, integrity, organization, and heart. Order doesn’t allow fantasy, order allows you to be happy with your reality.” Name Michael A. Graham Appearance Commander Graham is a man that looks a decade younger than he appears, which is a bit of an oddity in his profession. Standing at six foot even and a rigorously sculpted physique Graham has proven that age is not a factor in the efforts of a professional soldier. Accompanied by dark blue-black hair that is drawn to mid-length and faded brown eyes, Graham despite the intensity he invokes is not abrasive to look at which in the past he had used to his advantage to get the wits on several enemies including rough-edged females of the criminal element. Graham has few preferences for attire— a uniform when it is available, or a loose synthweave jacket and military-fitted clothing for alternative “casual” situations. Age Forty-Three Role Operations Director Personality Claiming to have no place for childish fantasies of morality, Michael Graham serves to believe strictly in the concept of order as in his eyes it is the only answer to life. As a military commander Graham has been called ruthless, strict, abrasive, absolutist, and demanding— all of which are, in part, true to his character. Caring not for how people see him, Graham prescribes to a militarized belief of organization, rigorous expectation, and self-fulfillment through commitment. However, he is not so simply defined as a military drone given he has explored the world with a bit of a wanderlust that harkens back to his days as an aggressive and unruly NC pilot youth. Graham’s nuances and depth will be truly hard to uncover, though, as it seems as he isn’t privy to sharing. Backstory Michael Aldous Graham was born in the mega-city known as Las Vegas in 2634 within the jurisdiction of the Denver-Vegas Corporation. As an orphaned child, Graham ████████████████████████████ and was enlisted at age of seven years old and was administered to a military camp for training children. This allowed a form of ███████ to recruits to groom them into the ideal soldier. During a mandatory study of a psychological exam it was discovered that Graham was born with the ability to pilot NC’s. He was then sent off to a NC-specialized variant of the camp to which he met many like-minded children of his age and bonded with many of them. Throughout his time at the camp he was discovered to be one of the top three recruits of 2642. The others being ███████ and ███████. The three would become known as Denver-Vegas’ “Blood Trinity” as they became a force of reckoning. Starting in 2647 at The Skirmish of Andreas Fault. Sent in to deal with Red-Star insurgents that had began to encroach on Denver-Vegas territory beyond their corporate holdings in California, Graham and his comrades were said to “single-handedly” win the skirmish, though records are incomplete as sensor array camera footage has been buried in Denver-Vegas archives. As the dispute between Red-Star and Denver-Vegas continued Graham and his comrades gained prestige as the battles got more destructive and chaotic. By the end of the war the trinity had earned a reputation that would cement itself in legend— a status that would be tested when Graham found himself in a one-on-one skirmish with veteran independent pilot Agatha Smith. Following the Andreas Dispute War, Graham was thrown back into the thick of it not long after when Denver-Vegas declared war on the Volkov Corporation who had “unfairly” acquired Elysian Dream. Seven long years poured into the war and at the end of it the death of ███████ by the hands of a Volkov pilot by the name of ███████. Unsurprisingly, the death was earth-shaking for both Graham and ███████, who began to see that they weren’t as invulnerable as they were led to believe. Following the death of one trinity member Denver-Vegas found their battles going downhill against Volkov’s tactical advances and eventually they sued for peace. Elysian Dream remained in Volkov hands. In the time since the Elysian War, Graham found himself earning several promotions such as first officer, field captain, squadron commander, and operations commander. However, for reasons unknown Graham resigned from Denver-Vegas in 2673, opting to work independently. His record suggests operations collaborating with Fairbanks, Paragon, and smaller independents— never sticking around for long. New Anchorage hopes he will stay on permanently. Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran Military Commander Experienced NC Pilot Adept with Tactical Analysis Expert Marksman CQC Expertise Notes Graham absolutely detests nicknames— he will reprimand those who do not refer to him as commander, sir, or his surname. There has few people who he has tolerated nicknames from in his past and they are no longer part of his life. Graham has two adult children he knows about, aged 21 and 18. He has employed both of them. Dr. Herbert Bonheur Head of Medicine “Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. Forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad.” Name Herbert H. Bonheur Appearance TBA Age Forty-Six Role Head of Medicine Personality Bonheur is admittedly rather obtuse given that his way of thinking isn’t exactly easy to understand by others; even fellow doctors. Coupled with a loose, casual demeanor and mannerisms that lead many to believe that the years of caffeine-induced dieting has led him to speak similar that may be a bit too quick for people to generally follow. Some consider Bonheur “insane” whilst others consider him “eccentric” but despite his terrible bedside manner and his abrasively blunt way of dealing with things Bonheur’s methods seems to always work. Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Best Medicial Pracitioner in Alaska Skilled Pharmacist Veteran Surgeon Notes TBA Dr. James Lofgren Head of NC Analysis “With only one minute to spare and you took down an opponent who seemed to have all of the advantages. Fascinating.” Name James M. Lofgren Appearance TBA Age Thirty-One Role NC Analyst Neurosurgeon Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Well-tested NC Analyst Skilled Neurosurgeon Skilled Psychologist & Therapist Notes TBA Valdislav Kuznetsov Head of Engineering “Quote” Name Valdislav S. Kuznetsov Appearance TBA Age Fifty-Five Role Senior Engineering Officer Mechanic Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Veteran NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Notes TBA Matthew Alvarez Operations Administrator “Your complaints are unfounded, I assure you that everything is going according to plan. Sit down.” Name Matthew L. Alvarez Appearance TBA Age Twenty-Six Role Operations Administrator Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Eidetic Memory Veteran Administrative Assistant Skilled Clerk Notes TBA Katarina Poux Engineering Officer “I just wish there was a way these beautiful machines could be used for good and not evil. There is such opportunity for them to be utilized for good.” Name Katarina “Kat” Poux Appearance Katarina is easy on the eyes when she is cleaned up, but due to her constant tweaking of machinery she tends to have a oil and dust-spotted appearance. Her hair is black that is worn long or in a messy ponytail depending on her time management and awareness. Her eyes are a perceptive hazel and her choices of attire are generally engineering jumpsuits and uniforms; rarely does Katarina remember what it was like to wear loose ‘feminine’ type clothing. Katarina is about average height for her ethnicity and age, setting in at around 5’6”. Age Twenty-Five Role Junior Engineering Officer Personality Katarina is upbeat and chirpy despite her “muddy” profession, choosing to be welcoming and optimistic rather than cynical and realistic. Whilst some might consider her an annoyance, her energy and emotions do set a mood amongst the engineering staff that leads to a good morale boost. However, with the shadow of death this disposition can be damaged and inverted; thus revealing a sort of “hot” and “cold” dynamic to her personality. However, Katarina tries very hard to not be downbeat and thinks things forward and not backward; she had done such dwelling on negative emotions when she was younger after all. Backstory The daughter of a NC pilot and a weapons engineer, Kat has been surrounded by big machines with complex machinery her entire life. A background that would bring the young girl to study all things mechanical and electrical which led to an astute understanding of mechs and traditional armored vehicles alike. Around the age of thirteen years old the world revealed itself to be much more harsh than she had been led to believe despite her parents professions being blatantly a product of their warlike environment. This tragedy was the death of her mother, Piana, when her independent NC was overwhelmed in combat. The effects of said death would bring her father to alcoholism and retirement from working on new NC weapon schematics and prototypes. Kat would go on following in the footsteps of who her father was before the accident and became an exceptional mechanic and designer in her own right., though she couldn’t seem to escape stigmas about her or her family wherever she went. By the age of twenty, following her instruction as an engineer she found herself in the employ of one of the big corporations: Fairbanks. Several months ago she quit her position as an aspiring engineer at Fairbanks due to various reasons and found herself in league with New Anchorage. Tactical Preference & Skills Skilled NC Technician Experienced Electrical Engineer Weapons Designer Notes TBA Ingram Kalfox Financial & Intelligence Agent “It is so nice to see the youth looking optimistically towards their future— and the more ruthless of us trying to redeem their path in life. It brings hope for our time.” Name Ingram Kalfox Appearance TBA Age 43-56 Role Operations Economist Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Comprehensive Knowledge of International NC Pilots Skilled Businessman & Economist Notes TBA Rebecca Marek Operations Commander “---” Name Rebecca “Reb” Marek Appearance TBA Age 28-36 Role Military Commander Personality TBA Backstory TBA Tactical Preference & Skills Experienced Soldier & Military Commander Veteran Anti-NC Special Operations Unit Talented in Tactical Analysis Skilled in CQC Marksman Notes TBA
56,140	1,536	106	1,524	552	ELIMESS HALL, NEW ANCHORAGE Despite the new commotion, Eli spent the rest of her lunch in silence. She’d met one new person already, and while Joshua didn’t seem like the bad sort –for what first impressions with him were worth–, she wasn’t about to play another game of icebreaker with a stranger. Still, Ryn had her attention for as long as Vera was there, even if it was subtle. Much to her relief, everything seemed to go well. Ryn was doubtless on the rougher side, either because she was actually as weathered as she purported to be, or she was merely pretending. It didn’t matter much either way, she saw upsides to both. If Ryn was truly experienced, then she’d be an actual asset to New Anchorage. If she wasn’t, if all of her huffing and puffing was just that, then Eli didn’t need to worry about her questionable loyalty; the girl wouldn’t survive anyway. As her mother said: ”People are threats up until their last breath.” Her meal finished, Eli started out of the mess hall just before the shouting between Jingo and Ryn began. She heard it outside, but when it dissolved, figured the situation was handled. Reflex developed over the past days steered her towards the simulation room, but she found herself fighting it. In a moment of shame she wondered if her hesitation stemmed from fear, but pushed that away quickly. There was nothing to fear, and she’d been steadily improving in both time and damage sustained, confident that before long she would clear Lofgren’s room with little issue. So what anchored her? A pit formed in her stomach, she knew the answer before she’d even finished thinking the question. Checking the time, she saw there was still a chunk left before lunch came to an end, and with a sharp turn Eli headed away from the simulation route, and towards the barracks. She would spend the rest of the hour in her room, she had a call to make.	Elizabeth Jackspar Age 21 Role Melee Skirmisher Appearance A life dedicated to training has left Eli with a lean, athletic form. An albino, her skin is chalk-white, her long hair a similar color, and her eyes holding a glassy-blue hue. She has a hard gaze and straight posture, like a soldier constantly at attention. Despite this, she’s prone to wearing civilian clothes when things are quiet. Scarves strike her fancy, and she’ll often wear them high on her neck over her mouth, but she’s also prone to gloves and arm warmers. Personality Cold and dismissive to anyone that isn’t her superior, compliant and dutiful to all others with an underlying layer of competitiveness beneath everything. A quick, calculating mind and fast reflexes make Eli a good soldier, but little else unfortunately. In her early teenage years, Eli began suffering from severe and sudden panic attacks, often leaving her an unresponsive wreck. Not knowing how such incidents would affect her daughter's future, her mother went to great lengths to keep the affliction a secret from future potential employers. After a handful of years the attacks decreased in both frequency and intensity without professional assistance, which made concealing them much easier. Tactical Preference/Skills Eli excels in melee combat, preferring swords to firearms and speed to durability. While her specialty is quick execution, she can handle prolonged confrontations, especially against a single opponent. Background ”Eli” Eli was eight years old when she learned her name was short for “Elizabeth”. Her mother, the librarian recluse Celina Jackspar, had used it once, the first time she’d cried during her training. ”Get up, Elizabeth. Now. And never cry in front of me again.” And she never did. The Jackspars might have been lepers for how little they interacted with the world. Confined to a modestly sized library nestled in the corner of what was then “Smith’s Rest”, few ever visited, and fewer were actually aware the spindly, aged woman had a child. With little to their name aside from cases and piles of books, it would not have been unreasonable to assume the family would contribute nothing great to the world. Celina would not allow such an outcome. The training began early, and never slackened. Eli learned from a young age what she was, and would be. She did not attend school, she did not socialize with peers, she rarely left the library at all. Her life was dedication, she had to let go of the urges to want, and focus entirely on the future. ”Up.” And she got up. The Jackspars could afford no firearms, and so forewent practicing them. Instead it was decided that Eli would master the art of melee combat in their absence. Lyosha Voloshyna, a carpenter and one of the family’s only “friends”, happily supplied them with wooden models of various swords, ranging from the typical and familiar, to the foreign and unique. Eli was made to train with them day in and day out. They would not be weapons held, they would be extensions of her own body, or she would fall short. Countless other prospective pilots had the advantage of proper training, they could afford to be merely “adequate” so long as they rounded out a checklist and passed the neural exam. ”I don’t want you on-par, I want you better. Keep going.” And she would. Hour after hour Eli practiced, submitting herself to the forms and tests of balance. By the time she was in her middle teens, picking up a sword felt like raising her hand, swinging felt like punching. Her threshold for pain was pushed further each day, and every time she kept her mouth shut, kept her face calm, she would catch the ghost of a smirk flicker over her mother’s face. Moving had become a dance, and she was the prima. When she was fifteen, a practice sword broke in her hand, splintering midway down the blade. It was old, nothing unexpected, and the shattering caused her no physical harm. All the same Eli froze, wide eyes fixated on the broken blade, and her arm, then the girl collapsed in a fit of agony. Celina watched, shocked. ”Get up.” But she didn’t. ”Elizabeth, get. Up.” But she couldn’t. It took all of her strength not to cry. It was her first major incident, and the only one Celina ever saw. It took a few years to realize they weren’t going to stop, and seeking professional psychiatric help would murder Eli’s chances at becoming a pilot, so Celina resolved to handle the situation in her own way. Eli knew Eli. Celina knew Elizabeth. ”Stop shaking.” And she would. The final years leading up to application were smooth by Celina’s standards. Her daughter was sharp, fast, resilient, and above all, obedient. She would protect Smith’s Rest, she would protect its people, and she would do so under the instruction of whosoever commanded the forces. Second to her, of course. ”Don’t disappoint me.” And she wouldn’t. -Helped defeat Knight and Rook alongside Percy Moore, Madison Cole, John Strange, and Joe Verona -Took on her younger sister, Vera, as an “assistant” -Bonded with the previous commander, Sophia -Suffered a gruesome defeat at the first assault on Smith’s Rest -Shaken by Sophia’s desertion Text Color: color=6ecff6 Example. Blur :Body-Plan: Blur is a humanoid, bipedal NC, designed to move and strike quickly. Its armor is lacking, but a myriad of thrusters allow not only for fast evasive maneuvers, but also for gap-closing on enemies. :Type/Quality: Blur is designed to be an up-close-and-personal NC, meant to close in on key targets before engaging in a melee assault. In this, Blur excels, and should the enemy be unequipped for close-range combat, they may have trouble. However range is her crux, and while Blur is good at evading enemy fire, should one corner her from far enough away, there is little she can do to get out of the situation. Though Eli would never admit it, Blur works best with, and sometimes even requires a team. :Equipment: -Sets of thrusters allowing for enhanced mobility and sustained flight. -Flare caches for more difficult evasive maneuvers. -Targeting system designed to track a single enemy and suggest/allocate NC power to close the distance in the quickest/most effective manner. Suggestions are automatic, control/execution is manual. :Armaments: -Standard-Issue NC Beam Sword -PPB-2.71 “Plasma Sword” (Purchased) -Deployable “Finger-Claws” (New-Anchorage Custom) -Set of demolition charges sized for NC's. The charges are kept as two separate components that are combined individually in their storage to become armed as needed, so as to avoid detonation from trauma to the housing NC. --- Vera Voloshyna (Left, Ana Moore. Right, Vera Voloshyna) Age 13 Appearance Vera’s short, her blonde hair equally so, and her eyes are vibrant, lively green. She’s taken to dressing like Eli in some cases, with scarves and hoodies and the like, and generally has smudges of dirt or oil on her face. One of her front teeth bears a chip to it. Personality Vera is both easily excitable and hard to bring down. The girl almost always has a smile on her face whether something fun is happening or not, and tends to be more on the gullible side. Background Vera’s parents were at Smith’s Rest long before she was born. Her mother was a doctor, and as Vera understands it she helped Ms. Jackspar deliver her daughter not long after their arrival, and it wasn’t until more than a decade later that she herself was born. Their families grew close, and Ms. Jackspar took on a completely different, warmer persona around the Voloshynas. When Vera was two, she spent much of her time being babysat by them, when she was five, she had managed to befriend Ms. Jackspar’s daughter, Elizabeth. When she was six, her parents vanished. The family had received threats multiple times over the course of their stay from residents none too fond of the Russian Volkov Security. The Voloshyna’s tried in vain to explain they held no part in the company’s actions, but when at last the threats turned to violence, they had no choice. The letters never addressed their daughter, perhaps because she spent so much time with the Jackspars it was assumed she was just another one of them. Regardless, when Vera’s parents fled they took the opportunity to leave her in the care of their friend, who agreed without complaint or protest. The girl did the rest of her growing up around Elizabeth, and the two grew incredibly close. She did not receive the same harsh training as Elizabeth but Ms. Jackspar did teach her a few tricks to keeping well in the settlement. -Due to an increasingly dangerous home environment, Celina sent her to "assist" Eli on-base. -Survived the assault on Smith's Rest Text Color: color=662d91 Example.
56,141	1,536	107	1,700	2,624	M A D I S O N C O L E Medical Facility / Mess Hall - New Anchorage A heavily cloaked figure moved through the New Anchorage hallways keeping to the shadows as much as possible, but also determined that it needed to make this dangerous journey towards freedom. It's boots slammed on the ground with an earth shattering explosion in every step; a sound that didn't quite match the size of it's own body. Even if the utmost care was taken to soften the noise it wouldn't matter... that was simply how this unique being walked. Finally the individual came to the intended target, looking ahead with the only eye that was still it's own. The hunger that was being experienced deep within her belly was visually shown by the build-up of saliva in the mouth. The only thing left was to walk through the doorway that stood before her. This was going to be it, everything that she had ever dreamed of and more! "Real Food!!!" Madison tearfully whispered to herself, seeing the glorious interior of the busy Mess Hall open up to her. Ever since she woke up from her coma she had been on a strict diet on order to build up her energy again but eating "Jelly and Tofu", as she called it, for that time was simply not enough to satisfy her. The girl had taken note of the daily schedule that the doctors and nurses followed, the times they performed tests and the moments that they let her have time to herself. With this knowledge she decided that today was going to be the day that she would make her grand escape and eat like the Mother-Fucken-Queen! Madison made her way stealthily past the groups of people, both recognising the few that she had arrived here with and curious about the many others that she had never seen before in her life. She kept to herself and tried to avoid a scene as she wandered her way up to the servery to reach out and grab a tray. The girl picked it up with her artificial hand and noticed how the grip that she had wasn't quite enough. The tray slid through her fingertips like ice, quickly forcing her to catch the sheet of metal with her free left before it fell to the ground. "Crap!" she swore out loud, realising that she was only seconds away from becoming the center of attention. She didn't want that to happen, she wanted to stay invisible. Maybe a lifetime ago it would have been different, but for today she only wanted to stand alone as she pondered over what delicious delicacy she was going to break her new-found food virginity with. ... "Quit standing there like a roo in tha fucken spotlight and pick something!" Madison quickly spun her head around to say, "Sorry". As she looked up at the thick Australian accent she noticed instead that this woman beside her had a rather strong Asian appearance. This was someone Madison didn't recognise nor expected but the vibe that she was exerting at the time seemed to indicate that the younger girl was taking way too long in her choice of meal. Madison turned back towards the dishes and continued to ponder a bit more, not realising that she had re-entered her trance like state. ... "Seriously?" This time the woman forcefully leaned over in front of Madison and started scooping up various portions for herself, dumping the heaps onto her own tray and then decided to point to a few various dishes with the grasped ladle, "It's the bloody same shit every day. The chow tucker and snags are edible, the reef will make you chunder, and the veggies are all watery shit." Throughout the spiel Madison stood there somewhat confused as to what this woman was talking about, however there was one small detail that she noticed visually. It was a rather unique, black symbol that spread it's way across the the woman's back as she leaned over to grab her food. "She's Red Star!" Madison whispered quietly to herself, but not realising that she was actually whispering right into Tahlia's ear. Tahlia briefly paused what she was doing, scoop halfway buried into one of slurry pits. A heavy exhale was made as she made a final shovel for food before dumping the mass of boiled vegetables on top of whatever else she had collected. With a forceful shove she stabbed the tray into Madison's grip, forcing the edge to dig deep into her stomach region. The girl gave a harsh cough as she glanced down only now noticing that Tahlia must have pulled the tray out of her grip while she was locked in a daze. "Next time you can farm for your own fucken meal," the ex-Red Star snapped back as she scooped up her own tray and proceeded to wander off towards the free tables, leaving Madison to stand alone. The young, pink haired girl couldn't do much more then stare down at the dish that had at one stage disappeared from her own grasps without her knowledge. As amazing as this meal was, she felt defeated by this simple fact and she could feel the tears slowly well up in the corner of her eyes. "But... I don't like cauliflower," she whimpered, noticing the flakes of white that were infected throughout her meal.	Name: Jan van Gent Appearance:Jan stands at 1.65 meters tall. He has fair skin, dark-blonde hair styled shortly and combed to the side. He has little standards concerning the clothes he wears, usually wearing whatever he managed to get on the cheap from a clothes vendor. The only criterium to him is that something needs to be functional. It doesn't need to be pretty or graceful, it just needs to work. Age: 27 Role: Flanking/ counter-CQC Personality :A rash and boorish man by nature. Jan is a spirited individual with a somewhat cruel streak to his actions. He doesn't particularly mind if other people are served by his actions, but is ultimately mostly in it for himself. Despite this though, he places great value on loyalty and mutual respect, even if it is for the slightly pragmatic reason that a long-time partner is the best partner. Backstory: A storied and grizzled independent. Jan van Gent was never part of the big five, instead operating with all sorts of factions all over the world as a mercenary contractor. He has probably fought with and against every major player on the current global stage, switching allegiances in quieter periods when hsi current employer's funds dried up, though always taking care not to antagonize anyone enough to draw the wrong sort of attention. A recent stint as a volkov subcontractor saw Jan assigned to New Anchorage. Political machinations above his control then saw volkvov retract their support, with jan's contract being terminated in the fallout. Jan simply shrugged and renegotiated a direct contract with New Anchorage's commander. Just another day on the job. Tactical Preference & Skills: Jan has great proficiency and experience at spotting and exploiting oppurtunities in a tactical situation. He has very good aim with all equipped weapons even at high speeds. He can concentrate on whatever his current target is without anything feasibly breaking his stride, though he is suspectible to a sort of tactical tunnel vision as well. Notes: Jan returns from the previous thread. Text Color: None due to player bias/laziness NC Codename: Goldenspur Appearance: The goldenspur is a grizzled mercenary machine, much like its pilot. Its frame is painted a muted black with gold details. While standing upright, its silhoutte is very visible due to its signature custom-built shoulder plates, somewhat resembling the skeletal wings of the winged hussar cavalry of old. These shoulder plates are folded over the NC's backside when in standby, but stretch to their full impressive length when shoulder weapons are deployed. Body & Type: A medium-class tank body. Original manufacturer is difficult to determine due to the amount of disparate custom parts mixed and matched to create the NC. Armor plating has been stripped and replaced with ligther variants on all sides save for the front to allow for greater manouverability. The NC has the unusual ability to fold downwards into a threaded tank-vehicle designed for speed and getaways. Equipment & Armaments: Goldenspur's main armament is a high-power plasma lance designed to punch through heavy armor and inflict catastrphic damage on internal systems. It requires a long pre-charge time and consumes most of the reactor's energy output when fired, also requiring a cooldown period afterwards. The goldenspur has two standard grade gimballed autoguns mounted on its shoulders. Energy consumption on them is low, and the caliber is sufficient to deal with most non-NC targets as well as posing a threat to NCs with lighter armor. In terms of defensive measures, the goldenspur has a standardized ECM array to deal with fire and forget missiles, a radar dampening coating on its armor, and a set of smoke launchers to disrupt visual contact. The smoke has a peculiar chemical composition that disperses lasers fired through it.
56,142	1,537	0	952	2,710	Director Richards, holding a freshly lit cigar in one hand and a clipboard filled with papers in the other, strode through the hallways of MetaOps Headquarters. He approached the door that read 'Briefing Room' at the end of the hallway, stuck the cigar into his mouth, breathed in the harmful chemicals, then opened the door. Inside, MetaOps' newly organized strike team sat around passing the time before they were given their new assignments. Crosscut was the first to see The Director enter the room and immediately stood at attention. "At ease," The Director said to Crosscut and any other operative in the room doing the same. Pulling a remote from his pocket, The Director used it to turn out the lights and turn on the projector in the back, before walking up towards the front of the room. The Director took a look at the various operatives that sat before him, paying special attention to the more eccentrically dressed of the group, before speaking. These were the best of the best. Well most of them at least, some were just cannon-fodder. "At 0900 yesterday morning, a highly classified facility was broken in to," he said. A slide appeared, showing the outside of the building. "This facility, which we will from hear on out call The Forge, specialized in one thing and one thing only... creating the nastiest, most destructive weapons known to mankind." A new slide appeared on the wall, this one of a more present picture of the facility from earlier, complete with a man-sized hole in the side of it. "This is the outside of The Forge now. Only one thing was stolen out of all the deadly devices inside, and that was the weapon that Project: God Complex had almost finished creating." Another new slide, this one of a room strewn with bodies, rubble, and broken scientific equipment. Crosscut was the first to speak. "What is this weapon that the project had been making?" he asked. "That information is being kept on a need-to-know basis. Right now, none of you need to know," The Director responded. Crosscut leaned back in his chair, irritated by the answer given. Director Richards continued with the briefing, "As you can probably guess by the fact that you're the ones being told all of this and not Seal Team Six or Delta Force, the perpetrators of the theft were meta-humans. Unfortunately for them, we know almost all of their identities. The powers they used to pull this off are pretty uncommon. Only problem is just going to be finding where they all scurried off to. We got a few locations that we suspect, but until we're able to narrow it down to something less than an metropolitan city, we'll be sitting on our hands. Shouldn't take more than a few hours. Until then, I don't believe any of you have actually met before. You'll be working together to find these 'super-terrorists' as my superiors have taken to calling them, so might as well get used to each other. Crosscut, you're in charge." The Director turned the projector off and the lights back on before making his way to the door. Before he could leave, Crosscut called out to him. "Sir, the identities of these guys. You didn't say who they were," Crosscut asked. He already knew what answer The Director would give, but it was worth a shot. "All in due time, all in due time," was the only response he got. Crosscut was irritated with the way The Director was treating this mission. Teams were built on trust, and while he knew that sometimes there was information that was better left to be known by a few people, MetaOps leader was keeping them all in the dark. Crosscut ignored his dislike for their commanding officer and walked to the front of the room where The Director had stood earlier. "As you heard, I'll be the leader of our rag-tag little team. My name's Ray Stevans, but on-mission we will exclusively using our designated code names. Mine is Crosscut. I've been here at MetaOps for awhile now, so you might know me by name, but in case you don't, here's what you need to know: I've been an operative for most of my life, and if you want to get to the same position I'm in right now, all you need to do is follow my orders. I don't keep my past a mystery, so if you have questions, go ahead and ask." Crosscut went back to his chair and sat down. Whether the rest of the team wanted to introduce themselves formally like he did, or if they wanted to just wander the room introducing themselves in a more casual way, he didn't care. As long as they all socialized, this should be able to get the team to know and hopefully trust one another. That's what mattered.	Code Name: Witch Real Name: Samantha Choi Age: 24 Gender: Female Nationality: Korean-American Powers: Witch has telekinesis, similar to having an extra pair of long, strong, invisible arms. Limited to a range of twenty meters, the strength of her telekinesis is directly related to Witch’s physical strength and fatigue. The more in shape she is, the more weight she can carry. However, her telekinesis does not simply extend her reach; the weight she can carry through telekinesis versus how much she can normally carry is multiplied by a factor of ten. If Witch can lift up a one hundred pound object with her hands, she can lift a one thousand pound object through telekinesis. Other notes about her “arms”: Witch must be able to see what she is trying to carry. Her telekinesis can also be used to lift herself up, giving the impression she can fly or float. Finally, her “arms” are not only good for carrying things, but also smashing or tearing things. Again, they are like invisible arms, so anything a normal person could do with their arms, she can do with her extra ones. Origins/History: Samantha had a fairly privileged life prior to joining MetaOps. She attended college for a major in physics, but Sam still found enough free time to party almost every weekend (except for during midterms and finals. Nobody parties during midterms and finals). She didn’t get into any trouble during college, however, and graduated at 22 with a stellar GPA. After graduation, however, things got a little difficult. Sam had trouble finding a job, so she got on the next flight to Korean and stayed at her grandparents’ house in Seoul. It was in Seoul that Sam realized that she could pick things up from a distance, something she swore she couldn’t do beforehand. She began toying with her newfound power in the safety of her own home, slowly getting accustomed to using her extra arms. Sam began to piece together the details of her power; their effective distance, their strength, and how they related to her strength. It didn’t take long for her grandparents to find out she had telekinesis. After long deliberation, they ultimately decided to turn Sam in to the authorities. Sam refused, running from her grandparents’ home out of fear. However, Sam’s inherent recklessness kept getting her into trouble. She would abuse her power to try to steal from stores in order to survive on the streets of Seoul. For several months, Sam got along nicely in Seoul. However, her luck eventually ran out, and a shopkeeper noticed that he was being robbed. Sam managed to escape, but the security footage didn’t lie. The shopkeeper alerted the government right away. As soon as the guns started to be waved at Sam, she surrendered. She was held in isolation for several days while the Korean officials decided what to do with her. Ultimately, she was handed over to the US government and given to MetaOps. For her first year at MetaOps, much of her time was devoted to strengthening her powers and learning their limits, as well as extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. Sam found that she was a quick learner in hand-to-hand and quickly excelled. She’s no expert, but she’s pretty damn good at it. After that first year, Witch was deemed ready to go out into the field, and has since spent a year operating for MetaOps. Personality: Sam’s primary trait is that she is absolutely curious about everything. If she doesn’t know something to a satisfactory degree, Sam will question anyone she can until she does. However, her curiosity comes with a downside. Her inquisitive nature often leads to strong cynicism, so she finds herself questioning people’s motives more often than she’d like to admit to. Not to say that Sam is an absolute cynic. She still considers herself fortunate that MetaOps picked her up from the Korean government and that she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life in a prison or lab somewhere, and Sam keeps that in mind at all times. She has utmost respect for authority within MetaOps and has fierce loyalty to the division. For the most part, Sam thinks in a procedural, rational manner, but it doesn’t take much for her to lose her cool. She’s young, she’s reckless, and MetaOps often finds itself having to clean up after her or reprimand her actions or rein her in. Appearance: Sam is small and unseeming, standing at only 5’4, but the nature of her power requires her to stay in excellent physical condition. She’s short, but she’s tough, and has a strong, muscular body to make up for her size. As for her other features, Sam has bleached and dyed her naturally black hair into a beach blonde color, wearing it in a medium-length ponytail. She wears thick frame glasses over her dark brown eyes which she replaces with contacts when she is sent on a mission. Speaking of which, her mission attire is a completely black, full-body jumpsuit, with pockets scattered over her legs in various sizes to carry a multitude of things. In addition to this, Sam wears military-grade combat boots and gloves and is more often than not found wearing a different kind of hat on her head. thank you for this image! Sam in her suit (minus the goggles) (the idea for Sam’s power was most definitely inspired by both Chronicle and Elfen Lied. in fact, I might as well have taken a carbon copy from both of them and placed it here, so you could most definitely refer to those if you want a clearer picture of Sam’s power!)
56,143	1,537	1	1,813	471	David Arazaga - Elementalist Ray Stevans - Crosscut As you heard, I'll be the leader of our rag-tag little team. My name's Ray Stevans, but on-mission we will exclusively using our designated code names. Mine is Crosscut. I've been here at MetaOps for awhile now, so you might know me by name, but in case you don't, here's what you need to know: I've been an operative for most of my life, and if you want to get to the same position I'm in right now, all you need to do is follow my orders. I don't keep my past a mystery, so if you have questions, go ahead and ask." David looked at Ray, forming his silent opinion on the guy, before deeming that he a stern person perhaps? He was obviously experienced person as well, being at his age along with the vibe of familiarity to the job like he said to them earlier. His main traits so far was that the man was obviously confident enough to be the leader, and since he was still alive in this job meant he was smart enough to stay alive as well. Any other quirks of the man the would have to find out latter, but at least their leader wasn't as bad as he was thinking about before he came here. Observing the rest of the group, he found several people of interest that caught his attention, such as the three other teenagers who he was surprised that they were on a mission. The youngest of them looked like she was still going to high school and not older than a senior, but now shes here. Besides the three youngest meta-humans in the group no one else seemed suspicious or interesting enough for him to take a note of but, he would keep an ear out if he hear anything. Deciding to be next on the list to introduce himself to the group and get it over with instead of waiting until the very last second, he raised his hand with meek smile "Hello team, my name is David so if you need anything just ask me. I can try my best to see if I can help you, and umm- my codename is 'Elementalist' if you wanted to know, but David is just fine. Pleasure to meet you all, and working with you" After the short introduction he was pretty much done observing his allies and so he took out his phone in his pocket before, becoming engrossed in it as he waited for the others. Looking up every once in a while before, back down to do what hes doing on his phone.	Real Name David Arazaga Age 25 Gender Male Nationality Half Argentinian/Mexican Powers: Elemental Manipulation - David has the ability of manipulating the elements in all their forms, being more focused on being versatile to cover more area rather than potent in a single element. Despite his weaker elemental powers, he specializes in combining elements and creating devastating elemental magic. However, due to combining multiple elements, it is very draining on David's stamina. David also cannot create elements out of thin air, and can only manipulate already existing sources, however creativity may allow him to find resources where it might not be expected. The more complicated the element, the more draining it is on David and if the resources aren't nearby then it drains David even more to collect the elements to form it. Origins/History: Summarizing a average childhood, David was born into the middle-class where his family were able to afford to live comfortably as live their life. Being to afford something expensive perhaps once in a while, David didn't mind his modest upbringing. However, during his time through school he was a avid student, who surprisingly had an high interest within the science and math subjects of school. However, since he learned faster than the children of his age he felt different from them as he could relate to older children much more easily. Learning things from them as well socially and picking up some things from them as well. With this kind of childhood, Damien was nerdy guy who was pretty smart for a kid his age but still had a bunch to learn despite his studiousness. However, if you had anything to ask about something that you were confused about in class, you could ask him and he would most likely clear up something for you. From the first glace, you wouldn't had seen anything special about the boy but when he was alone you could see he glowed brightly at times before it would disappear. Going through High-School he changed and became a little more socially pleasant, being able to hold a normal conversation with other people, while also making sure to look good enough to make a nice humble impression to people. However, many people knew that he still was a nerdy guy who if anything was more interested in taking a book and reading it somewhere quiet or surfing up the web. He was a generally likable guy who was interesting and had a handful amount of friends who he knew pretty well and they the same. Taking him by surprise was the years of High School, which had breezed by and before he could root himself down he graduated from high school. Having a good idea on what he wanted to do, he decided to go into college to take a degree in math, however switched a year latter into science subject. Deciding that it would be more colorful and exciting to study science which was a broad range of thing was better than the bland language of mathematics despite him being able to do it proficiently. Science was simply a more fun subject that he preferred and could teach other easily and so years went by in college with him getting his Masters in Science before finally a teaching degree. However during these years in college was when he discovered his powers, where an unfortunate accident almost took place. It had near midnight where he was separated from his friends after a late night of drinking themselves silly and he wondered away from the group. Then came from the alleyway was the victim of his outburst of powers as, he was threatened. With a knife at his neck, his eyes glowed briefly before it felt warm, with the chilly night air disappear and was increasing getting warmer before his attack was set on fire. Unsure what happen along with him being drunk, he ran away despite a pair of eyes watching him as he ran away getting a cab back to the dorms. How he got recruited into the MetaOps... was a very unlikely thing for David when he thought of it as they had came several months after he had finished getting his degree. He would had almost forgotten about the incident if he wasn't practicing how his powers worked, as he preformed minor tricks such as lighting a candle or freezing his cup of water to ice when he was bored. If they hadn't come to the college under the disguise of searching for him for that certain night. It had taken them several months of tracking him down and upon being approached about the incident, he did his best to bluff and lie about what happened that night but with video evidence. He started to run, with him out the window of a 3-story dorm may seem impossible, but he trusted himself enough that he controlled the air around him cushioning his fall before he ran. But from the corner that he turn was shot with tranquilizer darts before being dragged away... There he was explained that he was being watched by a single agent who had notice that David showed the signs of being an gifted since a early age and was reported by a few people but nothing was going to be done until he displayed his powers. They would of abandoned the case long ago if there wasn't a small yet tiny stream of complaints of him glowing eerily due to the amount of energy that was suppressed in him for all those years. Promised that he wouldn't get into trouble for the accident and that he could redeem himself, he was recruited into the MetaOps and trained so he could use his powers without them being released unconsciously. It had been quite a while since that incident and David was now a changed person, despite his plans not going how he expected it was better than what he was thinking of doing. Personality: A bright and young individual who seemingly looks like the everyday person with the exception of his youth and energy that people of his age has. David likes being a intelligent person and likes to judge people upon first meeting them, however he prefers to keep his opinion to himself and remain polite. He is always perceived as a shy and reclusive individual which is mostly correct for the most part, on the other hand, he can be quite a sociable person but speaks softly. Mumbling combined with his soft way of speaking makes him easily able to fade into the background if he ever wished to disappear from the conversation as he was barely noticed anyway in the first place. When he does speak clearly he is shown to have a nice voice, not too deep as it is a blend of both masculine and feminine, with his voice being slightly deeper.
56,144	1,537	2	1,404	5,009	Alexander Ziker - MicWiz Alex could barely control his own body. As weird as that might have sounded, it was actually very accurate. He was constant squirming around in his seat, tapping the table with his fingers, fiddling with his wand, all things that would annoy most of the people at the table. In all truth, he was not doing it to purposely annoy anyone, it was actually the situation that was at hand. Sure there were super- terrorist around, but it was actually his first mission, he could finally utilize his abilities to its fullest extent. Know that I think about, super-terriost are a really dangerous thing. Alex thought to himself. Before all this Meta-human business, they only had to worry about bombing terrorist, not ones with superpowers. That was a whole new can of worms, and definitely not a cup of tea for the for the Military. That's why the MetaOps were created he supposed, get us and use us against people like us before we become like them, a simple but straight forward explanation to a not so straight forward situation. When Alex was finally able to gain control over his body, people were introducing onr another. Pretty generic wouldn't you think. he though to himself. The supposed leader was Crosscut, Alex could not help but wonder what his ability was, sounded like it was dangerous. Next was David, or Elementalist, such a simple name. If he told that to the super- terrorist his ability could be assessed "super" quick. But Alex could not blame him, names did not come easy to anyone, it him 5 months to come up with a permanent name. After David went, Alex throught it would be gracious of him to go ahead and introduce himself. Alex got up right after David sat down. As he walked over to were David was originally standing, he was sure people were laughing at what he was wearing. He was claded in a long, red hoodie that reached his ankles, he had metal boots and gauntlets on, and a red and white shirt with light red pants, and to top it off, his wand, which was strapped to his hip, unusual indeed. "My name is Alexander, but you can call me Alex, especially the ladies." He said winking a girl at the table playfully. "My Codename is MicWiz, nice meeting you all." He said with a wide grin before taking his seat, that would be good enough for know, the rest would be for making conversation.	Code Name: MicWiz Real Name: Alexander Ziker Age: 24 Nationality: Caucasian Powers: Energy Constructs Alex can create tools, weapons and other objects from Energy. He can create any can imagine but has to have a good idea how it functions. His constricts can be broken if the amount of force that is applied is greater than the amount the user's imagination can produce. Alexander can use this ability through a wand with a glowing, pink colored, diamonds shaped object on the top. His energy constructs are all colored neon pink. Origins: Alex grew up in a fairly normal environment. Despite having to raise a child as a single parent, his mother still did her best to give her child what he wanted. There was never a shortage of fun when it came to spending fun with his mother. Alex never knew his father, and truly never cared to ask about him. His mother did all she could to be a mother and a father to her son. She had the privilege of having a well paying job a computer programmer, giving her the opportunity to work at home, and spend time with her child. Alex was never a straight A student, but he did what he could in school. Alex was fortunate enough to get into a good collage. Unfortunately, Alex struggled with school, stress angered him, but he hid it with humor. To make things worse, his mother was starting to have health problems. Alex was slowly getting depressed, and for the first time in his life he wished he had a father. The was the lowest point in his life, once he hit his Jr. Year, Alex barely went to school anymore. His mother could not do anything to help her son, since she had a hard time even helping herself. This was the time when hour begin to develop his powers. Alex retreated to his imagination during this time, hopping to escape from the world around him, maybe to unwind. When what he thought up came into existence, he was astonished, disappointed that it was pink, but was amazed. He showed his mother this power, but when she saw it, she was not amazed, instead, she was horrified. She contacted the authorities and he was taken into custody. Alex was soon handed over to MetaOps, since then he has been trained to control his ability. Learn how it works, widen and make more use of his imagination, he will soon be ready to be sent out. Unfortunately, Alex still has mixed feelings about his mother. Personality: Alex is easygoing, upbeat, energetic, funny, flirty and loves to tell jokes, even if they aren't funny. Alex is genuinely very intelligent and honest, and cares about his friends and family. He sometimes doesn't think before reacting and he enjoys pulling pranks on people, especially those who he doesn't like. Despite his jokey attitude, Alex has been shown to have a serious side, which happens when he is angered by someone or when the situation calls for it.
56,145	1,537	3	1,449	5,936	Revel Honestly, knowing everything made situations in which restraint was necessary such a bore. Revel sat lopsided in his chair, getting by in a half-daze of sleep. With his goggles around his neck, it was obvious he was dozing to any observers, but not as obvious as everything else going on around here. Forty minutes ago, Revel had been mildly surprised to learn that a group of metas had infiltrated what was undoubtedly one of the most secure locations in the United States and made off with a tool capable of turning a country into a very large boneyard. Above all else the string-puller wished he could have been there, so that he might have been able to congratulate them firsthand. Anyone who could pull off such a stunt with such magnificent impunity was worth getting your hooks into, both literally and metaphorically. Unfortunately that time had passed, and now Revel had to content himself with listening to the other people assembled in the room. Technically, his power was limited precognition and not omniscience, though, so there were some stimulating things to be found out while he blatantly ignored the man called Crosscut. Having used nothing but his alias for so long, Revel very easily accepted the paradigm of using codenames. In particular, like the man whose codename Revel just knew to be the elementalist, even before he became the first person to introduce himself, Revel found himself looking at the teenagers, the girls in particular. One of them was a mere seventeen years, a laughable age to be assigned to what amounted to a government hit squad. Though he hadn't the fortune to have predicted her name, Revel was reminded by one of them of a bamboo shoot, so slender and green was her visage. To be of anything but cannon-fodder meant to bring vengeful tears to the eyes of her teammates, he reckoned, she would have to possess a very noteworthy power. Then there was the blonde girl, who looked especially braindead, and failed to impress him whatsoever. By the time Revel refocused on the people getting up, Alex had gotten up. “My name is Alexander, but you can call me Alex, especially the ladies,” Revel muttered, rolling his eyes. His little game was no fun when he couldn't see the stunned reaction on others' faces. After MicWiz had finished, the string-puller pushed himself out of his chair, saying, “That's my cue then,” and strode to the front. “I know at least one of you is going to have a chuckle at what I'm wearing, but that's to be expected, really,” he recited boredly, hands behind his back. He then pointed at the brown-haired sniper Michelle, who seemed about as pleased to be here as he. “When you get up in a minute to do your intro, try not to step on that water bottle. It's not got a cap on, and the carpet will get mildew.” It was tough to resist showing off by saying the words of the person to come after himself, but Revel managed. Besides, it you predicted too far in advance, he knew that people would change to spite him. He addressed the rest of the group next. “My name is Revel. I am here to redeem myself. I hope to become familiar to each any everyone one of you, not just as a comrade, but as a friend.” Revel bowed slightly, smiling, and returned to his seat.	Code Name: Revel Real Name: Mòric Syg Age: 29 Gender: Male Nationality: Hungarian Powers: The only superpower Revel has is a limited form of precognition. Though he can't see the future, technically, Revel simply knows it. Knowledge from the future simply manifests in his brain, like a hidden memory suddenly provoked. Revel is able to identify that said information is from the future, as well as from how far forward it came. The longest he's ever been able to know something before its occurrence is two hours. After developing this power for a while, Revel realized that this knowledge comes from futures that can be, not futures that are, and grew to be able to figure out the consequences of certain actions before performing them. Revel wields two bracers that each contain lengths of cord. In response to certain nerve impulses, the cords can be extended, retracted, or electrified. This is not a power; merely a weapon. Origins/History: Though he was born in Hungary, Mòric's parents had no intention of keeping him there. The road to the United States was a hard one, but in the end the little family departed for the new world. They had heard tales of a land of opportunity, where even the poorest men could become legendary through the strength of their will and the work of their hands, but after arriving they found another side to the story altogether. Nowadays Revel remembers little, particularly the circumstances leading up to the defining event of his youth, but he keenly recalls the stinging abandonment. Though Revel inwardly suspects they couldn't take properly take care of him or provide for him, an acknowledged possibility is that they simply didn't want him after all. Luck smiled upon the fair-haired dark child, however, and a traveling carnival of dubious repute took him in. A childhood spent among such a wacky assembly greatly influenced his character; Revel learned hierarchy, trickery, theatricality, deception, and how to manipulate. As a teenager he served as the ringmaster, the youngest to date, introducing and playing a part with incredible feats to keep the crowd enthralled and its money in hand. In his spare time, he attended several schools as the circus traveled, getting expelled from one after another but never giving up his quest for knowledge. Revel's own psyche, already decidedly misaligned, continued down its skewed path. His ambitions and intellect reached far, far beyond entertainment. It was during this time that he realized he had supernatural ability to see a short way into the future, and without either questioning or hesitation he accepted his gift and put it to use. Years later, a new boss took over the carnival, despite the rumors of abductions and experimentation. Willow, daughter of a recent immigrant to the United States from Vietnam and a self-made woman, was determined to set the despicable community to rights. Slowly, her enlightening, positive influence and vast intelligence permeated every carny of the lot save one: Revel. After weeks in seclusion, avoiding his boss while devouring company funds at an incredible rate, he emerged from his mobile laboratory bedecked in strange clothes and wielding sinister technology. He approached Willow at her desk and let loose a swarm of nanites upon her. The microscopic swarm of robots integrated themselves with the woman from head to toe, placing her squarely under Revel's influence. Revel's first triumph catalyzed a wave of terror as the entire carnival collapsed, all resources heading straight to the String Puller as he weaseled his way into infamy. Shortly thereafter Revel disappeared, and began in secret a cult using his precognitive abilities to gain followers. Guessing that he wasn't the only superpowered person in the world, Revel set about making armaments for himself and his followers, and endeavored to learn more about others like him. When Revel caught wind through an associate named Quaily that the MetaOps project and been formed and was combing the country for suitable recruits. With this in mind, Revel severed ties from his cult, making sure his past was well hidden, left his second-in-command in charge, and allowed himself to be captured by MetaOps operatives during a feigned robbery. When offered a chance for redemption by project administrators, he grudgingly conceded. Personality: Revel is slimy and secretive, with little to no morality limiting his ambitions and the meeting of his goals. He is outwardly charming but inwardly misogynistic and narcissistic. In fact he is incredibly sexist, enjoying having control over females in any aspect from their fear to their form. His ultimate passion is to control and contort, and he has a curiosity that has led him to experiment. The fact that he has created a cult with him as the head is a testament to his manipulative ability and charisma. Revel is the ultimate ringleader, the shadow and the plot behind the front lines, the cult leader playing chess with people. A knack for adapting to the situation at hand and learning from his failures make him particularly dangerous. In everyday circumstances, he is very capable of feigning ordinary emotion, and hides his...eccentricities. One thing he greatly enjoys is to guess what other people are going to say before they do so, and then be right. Appearance: Revel wears the same gear he wore during his feigned robbery, reasoning that it will 'remind of the past self he's trying to redeem'. He is slightly farsighted and speaks with a hint of a Hungarian accent.
56,146	1,537	4	2,096	5,087	Michelle Kine - Widowmaker Michelle was doing some routine maintenance on her pistols. A good cleaning was vital before and after every mission. After all, she didn't want her guns to jam when she needed them most. She listened to Crosscut talk with the MetaOps commander, knowing full well what frustration he was feeling at being left in the dark. She hated that feeling. There was always someone pulling the strings while staying in the shadows. This was why her previous partner died, not enough information. Oh well, all Michelle had to do was deal with the issues at hand. She was certain she wouldn't make the same mistake again. Now the introductions were being made. There was Crosscut, of course, and there were a couple others by now. She wished she shared Alex's enthusiasm on this, but there was no room for that on the job. Revel's warning caused her to look down, where she noticed that water bottle for the first time. Nodding in appreciation, she picked it up by the neck, she placed it onto the table where it would not be spilled so easily, then resumed her maintenance on her guns. Reassembling her guns, Michelle began her introduction, "Right, my name is Michelle Kine, codename Widowmaker. Unlike most of you, if not all of you, I don't have any powers. No shapeshifting, no fire breathing, none of that good stuff." Putting a magazine into a pistol and cocking the slide, she continued, "I make up for that with combat experience, and plenty of it." Finishing off the other pistol as well, she placed them into their respective holsters and waited for others to introduce themselves.	Code Name: Widowmaker Real Name: Michelle Kine Age: 27 Gender: Female Nationality: American Powers: None. She is a normal human through and through. Instead, she has these talents: -Sharpshooter: Michelle is a master with virtually any firearm one could come up with. Pistols, sniper rifles, grenade launchers, you name it, she can use it. -Battle instincts: honed through a lifetime of fighting both normals and super humans, Michelle both reacts and recovers more quickly than most. -Fist fighting: Just because she uses firearms so much doesn't mean she doesn't know how to fight without one. Origins/History: Michelle grew up in a rough neighborhood. Gangs controlled the streets, and not even the police did anything about them; in fact, some were even bribed to keep their noses out of the conflict. As a result, little Michelle had to learn how to fend for herself. It certainly wasn't easy, especially since she was a girl. In time, though, she earned a reputation among the gangs so they knew not to bother her. Of course, things took a turn for the worse when she encountered a gang leader who was a super human. She fought hard, but she ultimately could not contend. Before she faced complete defeat, however, she was fortunate enough to have another super human interfere in the fight and save her. Michelle was too proud at first to express her thanks, but they eventually became good friends. When they grew up, they enlisted in the military. The two went through tough times, both in the field and at home, but they were inseparable. At least, until one day, when two were caught by surprise and Michelle's friend died in the firefight by another super human. Michelle had quickly killed the one who had done the deed, but it did little to ease the pain of the loss. Shortly after, Michelle was approached with the offer to join MetaOps, which Michelle accepted. Personality: Michelle has a hard look in her eyes, as if she had seen terrible things. She's also not the most chatty person either. However, the look can soften, and a kinder personality will show. In a fight, there's no one else you would have to stay by your side, and will stay by you if your death slowly approaches.
56,147	1,537	5	1,884	334	DRAKE MARBLE: A.K.A The Chimera Drake knew he was probably one of the most out of place, and possibly most confused in the entire room. The man with the cigar had mentioned secret bases? A weapon of mass destruction? What could possibly know about things like that, considering only a few weeks ago his biggest worry was what common-criminal to go after next and what he would eat for dinner? Still he doubted he others had much more experience with this... Or a least he had doubted util the introductions were made. Crosscut, he seemed like a pretty standup guy... Honestly Drake wouldn't have any troubled following his lead. The guy knew what he was doing it seemed, then there was Alex, someone who Drake had to resist the urge to instantly dislike as soon as he spoke. That aura of cockiness was the exact thing to irritate him. Revel spoke next and despite his complete disinterested manor, the boy didn't mind him all that much really. He seemed to simply be calm about things and there was nothing wrong with that. Then the woman stood up to make her introduction, and Drake shrank slightly back into his seat. A trained killer huh? Maybe she didn't have any super powers but he doubted that mean much if she was allowed on the team with them. 'Dont get on her bad side...' Drake thought quietly to himself. Once she finished he figured he would go ahead and make himself known , standing up to address those at the table, absently scratching one of his furry ears. "Alright, guess I'm next. I'm Drake, codename The Chimera... Though I honestly don't like putting 'the' at the beginning of that." He started with a small shrug. "Nice to meet you all I guess?" With that he sat down, letting out a small sigh. What else was there to say really?	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,148	1,537	6	2,725	212	Izzy Winters - Freyja When Director Richards walked in, Izzy was slow to react. She had been sitting stiffly and staring at her hands on the table, trying not to draw too much attention from the intimidating group. When she finally realized he was there and began to stand at attention, he had already told them to be at ease. So without ever fully standing up, she sat back awkwardly in her chair, eyes down. She would never get used to this military stuff. While she picked at her thumbnail, she listened intently to the Director and Ray. Her nervousness only grew as she began to understand that the stakes for the assignment were far higher than the other few she had been a part of. After a man named David introduced himself to the whole group as Ray had done, she realized that they would all be expected to do so. Simply speaking in front of a group made her uncomfortable, and this was in front of meta-human military personnel. Swallowing hard, Izzy began reciting what she'd say in her mind as she gave her attention to the others introducing themselves. Alexander and Revel were dressed... strangely. They seemed nice enough, though, as did David. Revel's words, directed at a scary-looking woman named Michelle, hinted that he had some sort of foresight power. Realizing this, Izzy perked up and relaxed ever-so-slightly in her seat. According to the Director, everyone here had some sort of ability. Izzy wanted to know exactly what they all could do, but so far, only Revel had said anything to hint at his power. Michelle's introduction was the most surprising to Izzy. The woman had no power, but had been assigned to this group? That was... terrifying, honestly. She was like the opposite of Izzy; she was here because of her experience and skill, instead of some super-natural power that was given to her. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Izzy looked to the boy who stood up next. His codename was Chimera, and judging by his ears, he had some sort of shape-shifting ability. The girl decided she'd outright state her power in her introduction, hoping that would encourage others to do the same so she wouldn't have to guess. Going over her lines one more time, Izzy took a deep breath and stood up. "H-hello, I'm Izzy..." She paused, blanking for a brief moment. Feeling a tinge of red spread across her face, she kept her eyes locked on the center of the table as she continued. "Izzy Winters. My codename is Freyja. And I... um... don't die, I g-guess." Wow she was blowing this, and with all of these people staring at her. Pathetic. She picked at the cuff of her long-sleeved shirt. "It's nice to meet you all, and I look forward to working with all of you..." With a burning face and a small nod, she sat down quickly, biting her lip. She desperately needed to get more comfortable with speaking in front of a group. Her hope of making a decent first impression was now shot to hell, but she told herself it didn't really matter. She'd just be back in the same place she had been with her last group.	Appearance: Code Name: Freyja Real Name: Isabelle "Izzy" Winters Age: 20 Gender: Female Nationality: British-Canadian Powers: Some sort of entity inhabits Izzy's body alongside her. This spirit hasn't displayed the ability to take control of her body, and can do no more than occasionally whisper into her mind. It does, however, make Izzy immortal. Any injury that the girl sustains, no matter how severe, will heal itself nearly instantly after a long delay. The delay depends on the severity of the wound, and will generally be several hours long. This regeneration will activate even if Izzy is dead, and will bring her back to life, only slightly worse for wear. What Izzy's power does not do is nullify pain in any way. Getting shot will still hurt her. A lot. Power Origin: The eight-year-old Izzy had just woken up from a nightmare. The same one she had had every night, without fail, for the past two years. In it, she would wake up not in her own bed, but her mothers. With neither of her parents in sight, she would hop off the tall bed and exit into the hallway. Walking down it would take far longer than it did in real life. Eventually, she would make it to her dark kitchen and tiptoe around the table, every step taking her closer to the stairs that lead to the basement. And she would stand there, staring in horror, as the door creaked open, revealing a rotting, human figure. Its face was a mess, with no distinguishable human features, its skin was loose and grey, and its limbs were too long and ended in clawed hands and feet. It would climb up towards her, and she knew she should run, but she could never move. It would reach her, and grab hold of her. And then it would slash at her stomach. Any normal nightmare of Izzy's would have ended right there, but this one continued. The creature would tear the helpless girl apart, and no matter how mutilated she became, she wouldn't die. She would lay there in terror, and in unimaginable pain, waiting for the creature to stop. Which it would, eventually. After it had had its fill of fun, it would take one last, blank look at the girl's eyes, before slowly turning and crawling back down to the basement. The young girl shivered under her covers, a cold sweat covering her. After spending an hour calming herself down, telling herself it was only a dream, she fell asleep again, knowing her ordeal for the night was over. That morning, she decided she had had enough. Gathering her courage over a few hours, she made her way to the basement stairs while her parents were outside, enjoying the summer sun. Izzy had always made a point of avoiding the basement when not with her parents, but today, she desperately wanted to prove to herself that there was nothing to be scared of. Clutching the fabric of her shirt at her chest, she took the first step down -- and tripped over a shoe. She tumbled down violently, landing at the base of the stairs, in too much shock to make any noise. Pain and nausea swept across her small body, and she fought to focus her eyes. Panic set in as she realized she couldn't move and that her body was twisted in ways that it shouldn't have been. As life left her, her eyes darted around, desperate for help. And then she saw it. The creature from her nightmare. It stood in the short hallway, only a few feet from her, looking down at her small frame. It crouched down and touched her cheek, and she could feel its cold skin. She had seen it hundreds of times in her mind, but this was too much. The wave of terror that hit her was what finally caused her to lose consciousness. When she came to, she was in an Intensive Care Unit, surrounded by a doctor and a few nurses who stared down at her in disbelief. They all started up at the same time, running around the room chaotically. Through it all, only one thing was clear to Izzy. A raspy voice. Hel... lo. Her head groggy, the next hours were a blur. Tests were run on her, confirming that all her injuries were healed. Realizing Izzy was a meta-human, the doctors let the government know. As she was so young, no action beyond covering up the event was done. Instead, her parents were told that when Izzy was of age, she would be brought into the military. History: With her life set from the beginning, Izzy had no real cares or worries during her teen years. The hardest thing she endured in her life, other than that voice in her head, was moving from Edmonton to Montreal when she was 13, but she adjusted quickly to the new city, and even picked up a little french. She didn't have to overachieve in school, nor work part-time jobs to pay for tuitions. Instead, she made sure to enjoy herself. While not a natural thrill-seeker, she did plenty of stupid stuff, knowing she didn't have to fear death. It's enough to say that she woke up in a puddle of her own dried blood more than a few times. The pain was the worst part. Most of the time, she would either pass out quickly from it or just die, which was always ideal, but a couple times she had to lay in agony for hours until her ability kicked in. Having that happen was always her biggest fear, and the only reason why she wasn't out enjoying herself all the time. When not out and about, Izzy ate up any sort of media that involved an immortal character. For obvious reasons, she couldn't get enough. Between those two and socializing, she saw no point in making much of an effort in her school work. She got by without too much trouble though never reached her potential. The day came where Izzy turned 18. She wasn't sure whether she was happy about that or not. On one hand, being a superhero and fighting to save people seemed awesome, though she worried that she had romanticized that idea over the years. On the other, her easy, fun life was over. Knowing that worrying about it would change nothing, she had a tearful goodbye with her parents before being driven off and told she would be part of MetaOps. Not being very good at the whole military-killing thing, it took a good year-and-a-half of training to get Izzy ready for her first mission. She died on that one. And the one after that. Personality: Izzy is sociable, if a little quiet. She enjoys spending time with people, but does act a little shy often. She tends to be very polite with people, and always has a smile on her face in an attempt to brighten other's days. Understandably, she doesn't put much value on her life, which is a good thing since that's basically in her job description. Despite having been hot stuff in her teen days, her confidence has been greatly dampened by the fact that she's extremely inexperienced compared to everyone around her. Not only that, but she seems to take longer than everyone else to pick things up. When she lets her mind wander, she tends to think that she's only kept around as cannon-fodder to keep other, better soldiers alive. She's mostly gotten over her habit of ignoring work, and tries her best to improve herself so that she can keep others safe. Or at least not bring them down.
56,149	1,537	7	1,884	334	Drake calmly watched as the girl sat up, listening to what she had to say. It was fairly awkward; and stuttered at that. Somehow he felt sorry for her... If there was anyone who was more out of their element here then he was, it was most certainly this girl. The round of introductions was honestly feeling slow and boring to Drake, and with that last introduction he decided it was a good opportunity to open up some actual conversation. As she sat down he leaned forward and raised his eyebrows slightly. "Don't die?" He questioned, sounding genuinely curious about what she meant by that. "That sounds... Interesting. How can you not die?"	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,150	1,537	8	1,854	4,756	Gloria - Specter Gloria didn't want to be here, it was that simple. It was however a step up from prison which was her other option. Besides, here she had limited access to a lot of equipment and information that really shouldn't be placed in the hands of a thief. Especially one whose very nature made containing her almost impossible. Her posture made it pretty clear to everyone that Gloria was totally unconcerned with anything that was going on in this room. She had her feet kicked back and propped up on the shiny conference table they were gathered around, her shoes scuffing the waxed surface. If her situation was not one in which her demise was a very real possibility Gloria would have found the actions of the Director who entered the room a moment later laughable. He started with 'at ease', like she owed him enough respect to glance in his direction when he entered let alone salute, please. The next thing the Director did was start there 'briefing', which was a ludicrous term for it because he left out all of the important information. He might as well have said 'meta-humans on the loose go get 'em' for all the help he was. They weren't told, the metas powers, there numbers, if they were organized or what this massively important weapon they stole did. This hole thing was mediocre at best, a thief wouldn't go into a house unless they knew the layout, security and timetable for the residence. Why should the military be any different. This complete lack of intelligence was going to get them all killed. Of course what did that matter to the Director, judging by the group in this room they'd been more or less thrown together, yanked out of whatever life they might have had before. To this project they were completely expendable. After all if the entire strike team died, then MetaOps had gathered some valuable data and they could pull another group of mutants off the street and try all over again. Gloria sat quiet, she had no desire to get to know any of these people. After all it wasn't like any of them would willing stick by her. There was no point in getting to know someone when inevitably one would betray the other. Gloria did however observe her teammates. It was important she gauge strengths and weaknesses because there was a high possibility that she could end up fighting against them just as much as she could beside.	Code Name: Specter Real Name: Gloria Lieth Age: 19 Nationality: American Power: Intangibility – Simply put Gloria has the ability to shift the rate at which her molecules vibrate in order to pass through solid matter. The biggest exception to this is electricity, attempting to phase through anything that carries a heavy electric charge will cause her a great amount of pain. If the charge is towards the lower end but still present she may still be able to push through, this kind of stress of her powers will leave behind something akin to a severe friction burn on any exposed skin that went through the process, effects on clothing may vary by circumstance. If Gloria tries to reform inside a solid object her body will attempt to expel the foreign material with varied degrees of success. If it is a small portion of her body inside a comparatively less dense material then the material will warp and shift to accommodate that body part however if it is most of her body inside something like stone then she will experience excruciating pain her molecules fuse with the stone in a permanent and fatal manor. Organic matter carries a discernable electric charge. This means that the same rules apply to Gloria moving through a person as they do moving through electricity. Compared to something like an electric fence the charge that humans or animals carry is relatively low so Gloria could move through someone however it would hurt quite a bit. Reforming inside something with an electric charge would be suicide, Gloria may succeed in reforming but the charge of the matter she is moving through would kill her. However Gloria has discovered that if she moves through something with a low level charge and alternates solid and not very quickly she is able to fry circuitry, such as security systems or computers. Passing through vegetation is not a problem as the charge it carries is almost unnoticeable compared to other living things. The denser a substance is the more difficult for Gloria to move through it. Something like class would be fairly easy but something like lead or osmium would be much more difficult and possibly even dangerous depending on how much of it she is phasing through. Origins: Gloria grew up in New York City. Her home was not exactly a stable one. Both her parents Peter and Rose, worked constantly, her mother was a lawyer and her father a doctor. This meant that both Gloria and her little sister Cassandra lived well but there’s more to life than that. Because of their occupations neither of Gloria’s parents were home consistently and when they were home Gloria was not there favorite person. They saw Gloria as a deviant, unwilling or worse unable to fulfil their vision of what a daughter should be. On the best days they ignored her but on many of the less pleasant ones Gloria and her parents would get into violently loud arguments. Because of this Gloria stayed out quite often when she knew her parents might be home. She spent most of her time at pool halls or twenty four hour coffee shops. It wasn’t really a secret that Cassandra was Peter and Rose’s favorite but Gloria didn’t resent her sister for it. If you met Cassandra you’d know it was hard to resent her for anything. Cassie as Gloria called her was almost as unstable as Gloria’s home life. She had been diagnosed with schizophrenia at a young age, her parents however couldn’t bear to have her institutionalized. Usually her delusions were pretty tame but every now and then she’d have a serious fit. Peter and Rose didn’t see many of these, they were too busy working. To them Cassandra was there perfect daughter, they weren’t capable of seeing how seriously she needed help. Gloria didn’t like spending time at home, it contained very few pleasant memories for her but at times when she knew her parents were working she would stay none the less to keep her little sister calm. When Gloria was out she gave Cassie a cellphone, if anything scared or frightened her, or anything happened that Cassie couldn’t explain she was to call right away. The development of Gloria’s meta-gene when she was fourteen was the beginning of the end. At first her parents didn’t notice but Gloria’s control over her ability was spotty, she’d phase partway through things at the randomest times and soon enough it happened in public. Once a month Gloria, Rose Peter and Cassie all sat down for a family dinner. This family time once a month was hell for Gloria but Cassie five years younger than her sister seemed to love having everyone together, she didn’t see the tension between her parents and her older sister. For this reason when this time rolled around Gloria tried to be as pleasant as she could, to be the person that Peter and Rose wanted despite the fact that it was not who she was. Gloria helped her mother with dinner that night trying so hard to make this special for her sister. When she was taking the plates to the dining room table Gloria tripped on a piece of loose carpet and went careening towards the table plates flying everywhere. Some sort of instinct activated in Gloria then, a primal sense of self protection cause her power to activate that moment. It save her head from smashing into the fine oak but it doomed her in her parent’s eyes. Gloria passed straight through the table top with her entire family there to witness. At the best of time Peter and Rose were not tolerant people but finding out that there child was a mutant was the final straw for them. They removed her from school, couldn’t have that happening in public, what would the neighbors think? Then they forbid her to leave the house. Of course Gloria was happy to stay when both her parents were out if only to keep an eye on her little sister. At that point in her life the only reason that Gloria didn’t run away from home was because Cassie. The little girl need Gloria now more than ever. Cassie had always had an over active imagination which often enough fueled her delusions. Ever since she’d seen what Gloria could do her schizophrenia had incorporated it into her own personal reality. She’d become convinced that she also was a meta-human. That might have been okay if she thought she had telekinesis or pyrokinesis or energy manipulation or telepathy or anything else. Except Cassie didn’t dream up an ability like that. One that couldn’t hurt her. Cassie had started to believe that she could fly. At the beginning it was almost funny, seeing the eleven year old jumping off tables and chairs and laughing when she hit the ground. Two years after Gloria first discovered her powers when she was sixteen things turned dangerous. Gloria came home one day to find Cassandra standing on the railing of the back deck, fifteen feet off the ground. “I’m gonna do it this time sis.” She shouted with a smile on her face, before Gloria could do anything Cassandra leapt from the railing. She broke both of her legs and fractured her collarbone. Gloria called 911, when Peter and Rose got home they wouldn’t believe that there dear sweet innocent Cassie had actually jumped off a fifteen foot deck. The real answer seemed obvious, Gloria had pushed her sister off the deck out of jealously. No matter how many times Gloria told them what happened they refused to believe it. It was only Cassandra’s insistence that Gloria had gotten home after the fall that kept her from ending up in Juvi. Three months later after Cassie’s bones had healed Gloria’s relationship with her parents had deteriorated further, to the point where Gloria couldn’t be in the same room with them without an argument starting. That fateful night Gloria stormed out of the house not wanted to be there when Peter and Rose returned. She went down to the pool halls were she wasn’t too bad at hustle guys out of there cash. That night Gloria got a phone call in that special phone she’d reserved for her sister. She picked up with haste leaving a game mid play and forfeiting her bet. “Cassie what’s wrong?” “There’s something in the attic with me sis. I’m scared, but one of the windows in the attic is open. I’m gonna fly away from it. I’m going to be alright.” Gloria’s heart nearly stopped, she began to run for home as fast as her legs would carry her as she tried to talk her sister down. “Cassie don’t do this. Whatever’s in the attic with you isn’t scary enough to waste your powers on it, your powers are special. They should be used for special things.” Gloria had learned that directly opposing Cassie’s delusions was a mistake. Her little sister would get irritable and angry and Gloria couldn’t calm her down. “Its big sis, it’s got horns.” “Cassie I’m almost at the house, don’t do anything till I get there.” “It’s coming for my Glory. I have to fly. I have too.” Gloria rounded the corner to the street her house was on. She shoved open the gate with enough force to smash it into the fence beside. Gloria ran up the walk just in time to hear her sister’s scream and see her body hit the ground. In shock Gloria gathered her little sister in her arms, she wasn’t even twelve yet and she seemed so small all broken. She tried to smile and Gloria could see blood coating her teeth. “It didn’t get me sis, I flew. Did you see?” Gloria smiled tears streaming down her eyes. “I saw, my little angel, you flew. It was beautiful.” The smile on Cassandra’s face was so innocent it broke Gloria’s heart. “I… I have to go somewhere else now don’t I?” Gloria couldn’t answer. How did you respond to a dying girls last words? Cassie reached up a hand and touched Gloria’s chest right below her collarbone. “Don’t worry sis, I’ll always be there for you. Right there.” She said pocking Gloria’s chest, smearing blood on her tank top. That was how Peter and Rose found the two of them three house later. Cassandra’s broken body being cradled by a despondent Gloria who was still crying and holding Cassie in her arms. “My god Gloria, what did you do?” said Peter looking on the scene with horror. This snapped Gloria out of whatever state she’d been existing in before. Her pain and anguish quickly turning to anger. “You can’t possibly think… I’m your daughter, her sister. I would never… but then what do you know about me? What do you know about either of us? Maybe if you’d bothered to come home every once in a while you might have been able to stop her from jumping.” “Jumping?” said Rose in shock. “You can’t possibly think we’d believe this was self-inflicted? Our daughter would never commit suicide.” “Mom! You’re daughter was schizophrenic, she needed help. Help you weren’t willing to admit might be necessary. Her blood in on your hands.” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “No actually I think it’s on your hands.” he said gesturing down Gloria’s hands which were indeed stained wither her sisters blood. “Rose call the police.” Gloria watched in horror as her mother pulled out a cellphone. “Police, I’d like to report a murder. My daughter is dead, yes I know who did it. She’s still here. Get here as quick as possible I don’t think we can hold her for long.” Gloria looked between her parents and realized two very important things, they’d never really loved her, and they were determined to see her jailed for Cassandra’s death. Gloria started to run. “No you don’t.” shouted Peter moving to intercept. Gloria didn’t stop she just kept running and as she approached her father her both moved through his. Pain crackled through her limbs that Gloria didn’t fully understand but shock, horror, and grief dulled its edge so that she barely felt it. Gloria didn’t stop running till she was ten blocks from her house. She used the little money she had on her to buy new, clean clothing and she wiped the blood from her skin. This began Gloria’s life on the streets. It took six months before the police gave up on finding her. Of course officially her file was still open and she was still wanted but after that amount of time no one expected her to be found. She stayed in New York, using her gift to steal what she needed. A neat trick she discovered was that if she made her stomach intangible she could store shoplifted items in it for several minutes before she started to feel like she was choking. Gloria did what she had to, to survive. Six months ago her jobs finally caught up with her. She was hired by a local fence to steal a diamond ring from a safety deposit body. It was a trap set by MetaOps. They’d gotten winds of her exploits, the vault were the diamond was held had been retrofitted with an electrically charged grid in all of the walls, floor and ceiling which was activated once she was inside. After that they used insulated cuffs that were wired to transport her to a holding facility. Her choices were simple, join the MetaOps project or spent the next two to five years in jail for the various crimes she’d committed to get by. Personality: Gloria has a prominent wild streak to her and enjoyed partying, drinking, and having sex. Often enough she’ll use a guy and dump him without forming any sort of emotional ties. She can also be careless and irresponsible, Gloria treats serious matters more lightly than she probably should. She is generally carefree and laid-back, causing her to view people who take matters serious as being wound too tight. Gloria doesn’t really want to be in any sort of leadership position on the team because of a deep seated fear that her mistakes could cost them a lot just like with her sister. She explains this reluctance to take command of a situation by nonchalantly saying it’s too much of a hassle. When she wants to be Gloria can be both forceful and persuasive, she could be a decent leader given the chance. Gloria frequently proved herself to be impulsive. She is known for her quick, easily irritated nature, something her father described as the "Lieth temper". Gloria has deep issues with parental figures, due to being raised by neglectful, absent parents while she was young. Nonetheless, she has a deep yearning for a family. She has many trust issues, always fearing that she will be betrayed or hurt if she lets someone in. Often enough she is incapable of understanding why someone would show kindness with nothing to gain for themselves. She is always suspicious of people who take an interest in her. Gloria shows hostility to those she doesn't trust or doesn't know but on the one hand, she would display extreme loyalty to those who were close to her and cared for her, yet that hasn’t happened since her sister died. Appearance:
56,151	1,537	9	451	960	Oh my god, what a fucking mess. To put it simply, Sam was overwhelmed. There was a lot going on, a lot of introductions, and a lot of different emotions were being cast by the various personalities in the room. And on top of all of that, there was still a mission at hand, and all of these people were just expected to work together. Up to now, Sam had worked in small strike teams and had gained a rapport with a few of her teammates on those missions, but this? This was more or less the Director trying to fit together a dozen or so puzzle pieces that would never fit together, not in a million years. Hopefully Ray knew what he was doing; it would take a lot of work to make this group a working unit. Sam didn't even know where to begin with introductions. There were so many new people and so many questions she wanted to ask them, primarily regarding their powers, but there were more specific questions in more particular cases. She began to make a list in her head, to be filed away and saved for a more opportune moment. How long exactly has Ray been an operative, and why did he assume that everyone was as uptight and hardassed as he was? Why did Alex think his lame-ass wink was a good idea? Did he know that he was just gonna end up getting punched in the face with behavior like his? What exactly did Revel need to redeem himself for? Why was Izzy even here? The poor girl seemed scared shitless. Then again, as much as Sam appreciated MetaOps, they were really good at being huge assholes at the most inopportune moments. Where the fuck could Sam get something to eat? With her list carefully thought out and filed away, Sam quietly raised a hand up, but didn't bother moving from her place leaned up against the wall in the back of the room. "Hi. Samantha. They called me a witch in Korea, so you can call me that in the field, if you want," Sam rattled off fairly monotonously. She gave a slight grin to everyone in the room, then did her best to become as invisible as possible. She did not want to attract any attention to herself.	Real Name: Unknown (Known by Angelica or Angelina due to what she does with her powers) Age: 17 Gender: Female Nationality: French Powers: Matter reconfiguration: Angelica's power in a nut shell is quite simple, yet highly complex. Her body is capable of deconstructing any living, or non living, thing to it's base matter by absorbing it into her body through her hands. The amount in which see can take in is limited to her own size. At this point her body can transform the matter into any kind she desires it to become. Then once taken in her body can produce anything of equal matter from any part of her body. The conditions for this ability are very intriguing though. If she takes in a tree for example, a living thing, then she must produce something that in someway is connected to her body that is also usable like another arm, wings, or maybe internal organs to heal herself. If it's something that wasn't alive then it can't give her anything like the above mentioned. Instead it would have to produce something like armor, a gun, or maybe a glass dove if she really wanted! The biggest thing though is making sure she has equal matter of any kind. It should also be noted that a black hole appears on her palms when she uses this so whatever she's taking in is literally torn apart on a molecular level. It should be noted that this process is time consuming and is not instantaneous or quick. In fact it is slow enough that a living target would feel the excruciating pain of there body being slowly torn apart not just where the cut off would end up being when it's stopped or ended. It should be noted that once she takes something in the recharge time can vary from 20 seconds (Really small object) to 15 minutes (IF she were to intake a full capacity) and then the time to change the matter into what she desires anywhere from 15 seconds to 10 minutes depending on how similar an object is to the desired material and also the amount she has to change. Origins/History: Born in Paris Angelina was born to a fairly rich family and was allowed to do nearly whatever she wanted for her early life up until she was about eight when her parents were murdered in their home. She would have died too if not for the house catching fire causing the murderer to flee before he found her. This didn't hinder Angelina though, well emotionally it got her down for a bit, but she continued on trusting that God would guide her life. After three more years when she turned 11 Angelina being the head of the family decided she wanted to try and live in America for a few years. This was due to not wanting the pressure of media she recieved in France at such a young age. Once she was in America she hid who she was really not letting people know she had plenty of money and had it really good even without her parents around. This when the French media caught on to her move one of her care takers helped her change her identity at the age of 13 and from there she was finally home free! Then another accident happened. While on a trip her caretaker died in a climbing accident while Angelina was on her own at the age of 16 leaving her completely alone in life, other than her friends at school and that she'd made around the town. The problem was no one knew who she really was anymore. Only she knew her secret, and then Angelina was involved in her own accident. She had always been interested in science due to that being part of her families business and why she had all this money, so she decided to visit a genetics research lab. They had been testing a new toxin capable of altering a personals DNA, but they weren't sure what it would do. Well unlucky for everyone there they got to be the test subjects. A gas line exploded inside the compound exposing everyone inside that part of the building to the toxin. Most died from genetic defects afterwards, others ruined for life with mental illnesses, some were just changed...They were different...Angelina was one of these people. The doctors had no idea who she was or anything. When she came to she didn't remember anything about herself either. She had amnesia, and on top of that several bodily injuries some of which they weren't sure if she would ever recover from them. When a doctor tried to explain what was happening and how she may never fully function again Angelina got so upset. The doctor place and hand on her arm and she ended up grabbing his arm and suddenly he started to disappear into her hand. All of her wounds were healing and after they were healed she grew bright white angel wings which wrapped around her protectively. After the government was informed she was taken away so that they could figure out what to do with her. Thus the obvious answer was suggested and followed through with...MetaOps... Personality: Since the amnesia Angelina is quite confused. She understands that she killed the doctor on accident and had to be punished somehow, but everything was just so confusing. Thus she believes anything anyone tells her for the most part and follows orders without question. Basically the mission is all that matters to her and she almost thinks like a child not knowing right or wrong fully. She means well in all of her actions though, even if it might hurt someone.
56,152	1,537	10	887	371	To say he was feeling personal discomfort was something of an understatement. He had grown up so used to feeling like an outcast or a freak or a monster, with the exception of the times he'd been in those bad parts of town. Funny how the worst people had treated him fairer than anyone else he had ever known. Hard to not be a little jaded by something as ridiculously stupid as that. As each person came up to introduce themselves it was all Cliff could do to concentrate, his thoughts were like debris being swept up by a cyclone, a chaotic heap of mental detritus that made him dizzy at the best of times and hopelessly unsteady at the worst. Each of the Meta humans assembled in the briefing room seemed so vastly and fundamentally different in both powers and personalities and Cliff was no different, he supposed. Shit, I finally found more like me and I don't relate to a single one of them. A begrudging sense of surface level pride forbade him from admitting how scared he was now (and, well, all the time) but the soul inside which was still very much that of an abandoned child was screaming silently and causing him to reflexively clench and unclench his hands into fists. Suddenly it was time for him to get up, at least he supposed when the floor went quiet and a gap appeared. He took a discreet breath to steady himself and stood up. He attempted taking a step to the front of the room, but found his legs wouldn't allow such a thing. He cleared his throat, and placed a hand over the inside of his elbow reflexively. The place where so many needles had gone and so much junk entered his body. Infections from misuse had left scars there permanently and rather than serving as painful reminders they were just dead giveaways. Like hell anyone would even care about this junkie anyway, but he was here and stubborn enough to refuse not to be acknowledged. "I'm Cliff...uh, codename Evil Eyes," he said as though each word were chosen very carefully, "I don't really know how to explain myself...but I guess I can...um, control kinetic energy, I think. At least that's what my file...what my dossier says. I..." he suddenly went blank, like he had reached his limit of what to say in one sentence so he concluded with a pathetic and timid, "thank you," and sat back down. There, see? Not unlike pulling teeth sure, but you did it.	Code Name: Evil Eyes Real Name: Cliff Page Age: 25 Gender: Male Nationality: Swiss-American Powers: Manipulation of Kinetic energy. Cliff is able to manipulate any object that moves, be it himself, a thrown object such a ball or even (with enough intense concentration) a bullet. The smaller and faster the object, the greater the concentration and chance of failure, a slower larger object can be manipulated quite easily. However, something like a thundering freight train may as well just keep on going. The power requires intense levels of concentration and only works on something already moving, or imbued with Kinetic energy. Cliff cannot turn potential energy into kinetic energy without regular human means. He can speed or slow his own body to varying extents, though this is most often employed as a fighting technique, where he can increase the speed and power of his strikes dramatically at a higher rate of fatigue. In desperate enough times he can speed his whole body to make a quick escape, but only over short distances. Mental fatigue is a constant issue, and violent mood swings can occur as a result. Origins/History: Ever since Cliff was born, he had always been...something else. He was different in ways he couldn't even fully comprehend. He showed alarming talent for physical activity and sports, but his academia suffered due to a lack of concentration and problems controlling his temper. He frightened the other kids and grew up mostly friendless. Repeated attempts at psychiatry left his parents emotionally and financially drained, leading them to turn him loose as soon as they felt he was grown up enough to take care of himself. Cliff was intensely bitter about what he considered to be abandonment by the two people he had always felt he could turn to. Truth be told he was as scared of the world around him as it was of him. In those turbulent years he tried to find out more about himself, paying for blood tests and volunteering for medical testing, but his results were always confidential and he was always turned away from being a test subject. Vague excuses being administered by nervous doctors just pushed him further to uncover the truth. In his searching he found bits and pieces of information on an experiment being run through the years around his conception and birth of pregnant women given in vitro injections under the guise of "tests" or "supplements" to make sure their baby was as robustly healthy as possible. The vast majority of the subjects reported stillbirths, and the percentage of children who survived were kept under constant yet covert observation until the program was deemed a failure and shut down for good. Very little information was made available, and Cliff's only source of information was one out of work reporter who stank of rum constantly. Guess he must have dug too deep, because Cliff found him in his home with his throat slashed. Despondent, he gave up and sank into a depression He did okay for himself for a while, working menial construction jobs to little avail. He soon found drugs and suddenly a whole new type of people who weren't frightened of him, but instead would keep him off his head and encourage his violence rather than scold him for it. As anyone could guess adding hardcore drugs (meth, heroine, pcp, you name it) to an already unstable, violent man was just a recipe for a total disaster. He was arrested during a raid on a known drug den, covered in blood and catatonic. He was clearly coming down from the cocktail of narcotics leaving his system. Among his victims were two powerful, slippery drug lords who had evaded arrest for a decade. Cliff was arrested, but never went to trial. Instead he was identified as one of the children from the testing, and given the fact that he had made the streets significantly safer, he was given special consideration and after a rigorous rehabilition accepted into the Meta Operations. He figured he could use this to find out more about how he became the way he was. Personality: Cliff doesn't warm up to people, and finds them difficult to communicate with. His powers often cause him mental drain, leading to him saying little and appearing very distracted, and his violent mood swings cause contention with most people he meets. However, underneath all of that is a man who has been to his lowest point and risen back up slowly but surely, someone who is less inclined to words and more driven to action and someone who certainly knows his rights from his wrongs. He has no beef with any of the MetaOps personnel despite rubbing most of them the wrong way. If it came down to it, he would stand in front of a bullet for any of them.
56,153	1,537	11	2,725	212	Izzy Winters - Freyja Before Izzy had any time to wallow in her embarrassment, the boy named Drake leaned over and spoke to her. She blinked at him, relief spreading through her after a moment. She could do one-on-one conversations. Small groups were ideal, since she could stay quiet and just enjoy listening to others talk, but this was fine. "Oh, um, that was a terrible way of describing it, I suppose," she said with a sheepish smile. "It's more like, any injury I get heals itself after a little bit. Even ones that kill me. And then I--" Izzy stopped when she heard someone else speak up. Turning her head, she saw the woman named Samantha, who seemed very confident in herself, despite the brevity of her introduction. Izzy frowned a bit, wishing she could be more like that. She looked back to Drake to finish her sentence. "And when fatal injuries are healed, I come back to life. So yeah, it is wrong to say I don't die. I've already died about a dozen times, I think." She gave a small laugh. "It's not very fun." Her attention then turned to the next person to speak. The girl, Angelina, was noticeably the youngest of the group, and was the most... bubbly, to say the least. It was strange to see someone so excited, in this situation. If she could be so positive, more power to her. Izzy gave a small sigh, cursing her inability to do the same. Next was a man, Cliff. It was nice to know that someone else didn't seem completely at ease speaking in front of a group. Though he spoke deliberately and didn't stutter, so his introduction went at least a little better than her own. Deciding she wanted to find out more about Drake's power, she turned back to him. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what's up with the ears?" she asked with a slight tilt of her head, looking at them. "I mean, I figure it has to do with your ability, but how does it work?"	Appearance: Code Name: Freyja Real Name: Isabelle "Izzy" Winters Age: 20 Gender: Female Nationality: British-Canadian Powers: Some sort of entity inhabits Izzy's body alongside her. This spirit hasn't displayed the ability to take control of her body, and can do no more than occasionally whisper into her mind. It does, however, make Izzy immortal. Any injury that the girl sustains, no matter how severe, will heal itself nearly instantly after a long delay. The delay depends on the severity of the wound, and will generally be several hours long. This regeneration will activate even if Izzy is dead, and will bring her back to life, only slightly worse for wear. What Izzy's power does not do is nullify pain in any way. Getting shot will still hurt her. A lot. Power Origin: The eight-year-old Izzy had just woken up from a nightmare. The same one she had had every night, without fail, for the past two years. In it, she would wake up not in her own bed, but her mothers. With neither of her parents in sight, she would hop off the tall bed and exit into the hallway. Walking down it would take far longer than it did in real life. Eventually, she would make it to her dark kitchen and tiptoe around the table, every step taking her closer to the stairs that lead to the basement. And she would stand there, staring in horror, as the door creaked open, revealing a rotting, human figure. Its face was a mess, with no distinguishable human features, its skin was loose and grey, and its limbs were too long and ended in clawed hands and feet. It would climb up towards her, and she knew she should run, but she could never move. It would reach her, and grab hold of her. And then it would slash at her stomach. Any normal nightmare of Izzy's would have ended right there, but this one continued. The creature would tear the helpless girl apart, and no matter how mutilated she became, she wouldn't die. She would lay there in terror, and in unimaginable pain, waiting for the creature to stop. Which it would, eventually. After it had had its fill of fun, it would take one last, blank look at the girl's eyes, before slowly turning and crawling back down to the basement. The young girl shivered under her covers, a cold sweat covering her. After spending an hour calming herself down, telling herself it was only a dream, she fell asleep again, knowing her ordeal for the night was over. That morning, she decided she had had enough. Gathering her courage over a few hours, she made her way to the basement stairs while her parents were outside, enjoying the summer sun. Izzy had always made a point of avoiding the basement when not with her parents, but today, she desperately wanted to prove to herself that there was nothing to be scared of. Clutching the fabric of her shirt at her chest, she took the first step down -- and tripped over a shoe. She tumbled down violently, landing at the base of the stairs, in too much shock to make any noise. Pain and nausea swept across her small body, and she fought to focus her eyes. Panic set in as she realized she couldn't move and that her body was twisted in ways that it shouldn't have been. As life left her, her eyes darted around, desperate for help. And then she saw it. The creature from her nightmare. It stood in the short hallway, only a few feet from her, looking down at her small frame. It crouched down and touched her cheek, and she could feel its cold skin. She had seen it hundreds of times in her mind, but this was too much. The wave of terror that hit her was what finally caused her to lose consciousness. When she came to, she was in an Intensive Care Unit, surrounded by a doctor and a few nurses who stared down at her in disbelief. They all started up at the same time, running around the room chaotically. Through it all, only one thing was clear to Izzy. A raspy voice. Hel... lo. Her head groggy, the next hours were a blur. Tests were run on her, confirming that all her injuries were healed. Realizing Izzy was a meta-human, the doctors let the government know. As she was so young, no action beyond covering up the event was done. Instead, her parents were told that when Izzy was of age, she would be brought into the military. History: With her life set from the beginning, Izzy had no real cares or worries during her teen years. The hardest thing she endured in her life, other than that voice in her head, was moving from Edmonton to Montreal when she was 13, but she adjusted quickly to the new city, and even picked up a little french. She didn't have to overachieve in school, nor work part-time jobs to pay for tuitions. Instead, she made sure to enjoy herself. While not a natural thrill-seeker, she did plenty of stupid stuff, knowing she didn't have to fear death. It's enough to say that she woke up in a puddle of her own dried blood more than a few times. The pain was the worst part. Most of the time, she would either pass out quickly from it or just die, which was always ideal, but a couple times she had to lay in agony for hours until her ability kicked in. Having that happen was always her biggest fear, and the only reason why she wasn't out enjoying herself all the time. When not out and about, Izzy ate up any sort of media that involved an immortal character. For obvious reasons, she couldn't get enough. Between those two and socializing, she saw no point in making much of an effort in her school work. She got by without too much trouble though never reached her potential. The day came where Izzy turned 18. She wasn't sure whether she was happy about that or not. On one hand, being a superhero and fighting to save people seemed awesome, though she worried that she had romanticized that idea over the years. On the other, her easy, fun life was over. Knowing that worrying about it would change nothing, she had a tearful goodbye with her parents before being driven off and told she would be part of MetaOps. Not being very good at the whole military-killing thing, it took a good year-and-a-half of training to get Izzy ready for her first mission. She died on that one. And the one after that. Personality: Izzy is sociable, if a little quiet. She enjoys spending time with people, but does act a little shy often. She tends to be very polite with people, and always has a smile on her face in an attempt to brighten other's days. Understandably, she doesn't put much value on her life, which is a good thing since that's basically in her job description. Despite having been hot stuff in her teen days, her confidence has been greatly dampened by the fact that she's extremely inexperienced compared to everyone around her. Not only that, but she seems to take longer than everyone else to pick things up. When she lets her mind wander, she tends to think that she's only kept around as cannon-fodder to keep other, better soldiers alive. She's mostly gotten over her habit of ignoring work, and tries her best to improve herself so that she can keep others safe. Or at least not bring them down.
56,154	1,537	12	1,884	334	As Angelica made her introduction Drake made a small noise of discomfort. He was by no means a shy person, but when someone had a personality that ... Strong, well it tended to have large effects on him. Still he managed to sit still and simply listen to what she said, deciding she wasn't all too bad and he would grow to like her. Then the girl he had asked questions of spoke. Drake listened attentively to the girl, nodding slowly as she explained in a somewhat jumbled form of what she could do. Once he got the general gist of it however, his eyes widened in a sort of expression between amazement and delight. Immortal? Was she actually immortal? He tried to ask her more questions however he became interrupted as another man stood up to introduce himself, his name being Evil Eyes...? Drake would need to remember to ask him about his ability as well. He turned once again to the girl as she finished explaining, then asked about his power to which he let out a small, slightly embarrassed chuckle and absently scratched at his furry ear. "Ah , well... I'm a shapeshifter." He explained slowly. "I can shift into animals and stuff, but my powers are. Well. They're kinda broken." His brow furrowed as he tried to think of a way to explain what he meant. "Most shifters can turn into whatever they want, but I'm unable to do that because of something that happened when I was young. So instead when I shift I mix up animals and stuff. At first I hated it, but I learned that I could use it to create the ultimate super animal... I guess. I call it the Chimera." He paused then continued to explain the ears. "I also can't get the human body right. For some reason I always have these ears."	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,155	1,537	13	2,229	1,796	Cathryn "Pirate Queen" Tessaro "Some interesting characters" Cathryn quietly said to herself as everyone proceeded to introduce themselves. She was leaning back in a chair, with legs on the table. She had planned on going sooner, but with others jumping on it faster than she could get her legs down, she decided to wait until last, save herself the energy. She took a few mental notes on some of her teammates. She didn't have a reason to trust them yet, but would be forced to trust them based on name and what other details they decided to give out right now. Cathryn smiled at Alex, the kid was confident with women, she could give him that, but how confident would he be with a woman who could be rather flirtatious? She'd find out later. Next she examined Michelle, girl seemed to have a knack for guns, seeing as she was fiddling with one. Cathryn could possibly get that girl any gun she wanted, so long as it was within reason, she had trouble getting theoretical guns like railguns or laser rifles. She'd continue with her mental notes if it wasn't for the fact that she should get her introduction done. Cathryn brought her legs down and stood up, straightening her outfit before starting her introduction. "Hello cuties, my name is Cathryn Tessaro, codename Pirate Queen. If that's too lengthy for you, then you may use Pirate" She looked around "And some of you have probably already made the connection between my codename and outfit. Smart cookies" she said playfully. "I'm also sure some of you may recognize me, I was quite popular in the news." Cathryn smiled "And before anyone gets too curious, I can summon weapons, every weapon that has existed up to now." Her attention turned to Michelle "And should anyone need ammo, I got you covered." With her introduction done, she sat back down. Putting her legs back on the table and leaning back.	Code Name: Pirate Queen Real Name: Cathryn Tessaro Age: 30 Gender: Female Nationality: Italian-American Powers: Weapon Manipulation. Capable of summoning many different types of weapons. Ranging from small pocket knives and pistols, to heavy caliber weaponry like machine guns and launchers. As well as heavy weight swords, maces, and axes. Even bows. All the while having inexhaustible supply of ammunition. Has even summoned larger weapons like cannons, but can get quite exhausted when summoning even one. She can also operate weapons telekinetically. Allowing her move, fire, and reload weapons without physical contact. However, the range is quite limited to the size of the weapon. Small firearms like pistols can only go approximately four feet from her. Swords and other melee weapons can go farther, about ten or so feet. Larger guns like assault rifles and shotguns go about the same distance. The number of telekinetically manipulated weapons is limited as well. Three firearms max, five melee weapons max. This number is excluding any weapons she is currently holding. A unique thing about her power is her instantaneous, yet temporary, mastery of any weapon or weapons she operates. Once she stops operating the weapon(s) she loses all knowledge on how to handle the weapon. Origins/History: Cathryn didn't learn of her powers till she was 19, when she was aboard a passenger vessel with her parents. The vessel was boarded by some lowly local pirates attempting to seize the vessel and kill anyone who stood in the way. She noted they weren't very organized, but stayed to the side. It was when her mother accidentally bumped into one of the pirates, which proceeded to beat her mother, that caused her to interfere. The man's assault rifle being tugged away from him, first by her own hands, but then by telekinetic means. Shortly after seizing the rifle from him, it was aimed at him, then a few shots rang out. She then became interested in modern piracy a few years after. Cathryn was more than just some pirate in desperate need of money, she was quite successful. Branded as a national, and even an international threat at some point in her time of tyranny. The name Pirate Queen is more true to it's word than most would like to believe. She was the ring leader of a pirating syndicate. Terrorizing the waters around the world, taking out smaller pirate groups and some larger ones. Even finding a way to terrorize two of the Great Lakes for a few months. This earned her a mixed reputation amongst the world. They were thankful that she took out some of that other pirate rings, but were fearful if she became the only pirate leader and collapse the global economy. The Navy tended to be wary of her presence, sending out messages, warning to keep her distance and warning shots fired in the vicinity of her ships. Which were empty to her and usually pushed the lone vessels out of her area. She had pretty good control over the international waters. But one day, the Navy came up with a plan. Not a mouse trap, or assassination. Those had been tried one too many times for their comfort, and she had noticeably learned from those attempts. No, their plan was something they only tried once before, that ended in a stalemate between the two forces. A head on fight, no sneaky operations. Just a straight head on fight between both forces, but they got their timing right. Bringing a force over twice the size of hers while she was on patrol with three ships. The battle was still ferocious, but she was ultimately taken down. Her own personal, nearly sunken ship being towed behind a Navy vessel. They didn't want to take her aboard, fear of her commandeering the vessel then fleeing. She was to be given specialty treatment. This treatment being a special firing squad that sat back about 20 feet to ensure that even if she did try to shoot at them, they could take her out before she could take the whole squad out. And it almost happened, but someone paid her a visit on the scheduled day. And asked a few questions. Shortly after the visit ended, she was given to the U.S. Government who placed her in MetaOps, and has been in the group for a few years now Personality: A very pompous and flirtatious woman who will get what she wants one way or another. She does suffer from occasional depression, and refuses to talk to anyone as to why.
56,156	1,537	14	952	2,710	Crosscut listened to each of his team members introductions, studying how they acted. He had skimmed each of their files, so he knew each of their capabilities, but it was always good to his own impression on people and not just trust the analysts. As Pirate Queen finished her introduction, The Director burst into the room, quickly turning out the lights and turning the projector back on. "We have a new development team," he said as live footage being taken by a news copter was shown. "We are here at Progress Energy's Crystal River nuclear plant 80 miles north of Tampa, Florida. As you can see, a gold and black-clad meta-human has appeared and is wreaking havoc. Not too long ago, this man appeared near the facility and began threatening the workers that he would send the facility into meltdown. Police have tried to stop him, but nothing seems to have deterred his advance towards the reactor. We have been told that the military is on their way," the reporter said. The Director turned to the operatives before him. "That's us team. The guy we're facing goes by the code name: The Immortal. He's one of our suspects for the theft at The Forge, so these events could be related. MetaOps is still mostly unknown to the general public and we're trying to keep it that way, so Crosscut will be transporting you all to the location one-at-a-time. We've got our Public Relations department working on some BS story of how you're all some random Metas who happened to be nearby, the media will suck up the superhero vigilante crap like a sponge. Now gear up and meet up at the Satellite Room." Crosscut soon teleported out of the Briefing Room and into the Satellite Room, he needed to have a clear image of where he was going if he didn't want to teleport inside a wall or other material. He stood in the center of the room, waiting to take whoever arrived first to the combat zone. As soon as he took the first person, he'd teleport back and take the next. Every time a new person arrived, he'd give them the order to hit The Immortal with everything they had. This guy needed to be stopped.	Code Name: Witch Real Name: Samantha Choi Age: 24 Gender: Female Nationality: Korean-American Powers: Witch has telekinesis, similar to having an extra pair of long, strong, invisible arms. Limited to a range of twenty meters, the strength of her telekinesis is directly related to Witch’s physical strength and fatigue. The more in shape she is, the more weight she can carry. However, her telekinesis does not simply extend her reach; the weight she can carry through telekinesis versus how much she can normally carry is multiplied by a factor of ten. If Witch can lift up a one hundred pound object with her hands, she can lift a one thousand pound object through telekinesis. Other notes about her “arms”: Witch must be able to see what she is trying to carry. Her telekinesis can also be used to lift herself up, giving the impression she can fly or float. Finally, her “arms” are not only good for carrying things, but also smashing or tearing things. Again, they are like invisible arms, so anything a normal person could do with their arms, she can do with her extra ones. Origins/History: Samantha had a fairly privileged life prior to joining MetaOps. She attended college for a major in physics, but Sam still found enough free time to party almost every weekend (except for during midterms and finals. Nobody parties during midterms and finals). She didn’t get into any trouble during college, however, and graduated at 22 with a stellar GPA. After graduation, however, things got a little difficult. Sam had trouble finding a job, so she got on the next flight to Korean and stayed at her grandparents’ house in Seoul. It was in Seoul that Sam realized that she could pick things up from a distance, something she swore she couldn’t do beforehand. She began toying with her newfound power in the safety of her own home, slowly getting accustomed to using her extra arms. Sam began to piece together the details of her power; their effective distance, their strength, and how they related to her strength. It didn’t take long for her grandparents to find out she had telekinesis. After long deliberation, they ultimately decided to turn Sam in to the authorities. Sam refused, running from her grandparents’ home out of fear. However, Sam’s inherent recklessness kept getting her into trouble. She would abuse her power to try to steal from stores in order to survive on the streets of Seoul. For several months, Sam got along nicely in Seoul. However, her luck eventually ran out, and a shopkeeper noticed that he was being robbed. Sam managed to escape, but the security footage didn’t lie. The shopkeeper alerted the government right away. As soon as the guns started to be waved at Sam, she surrendered. She was held in isolation for several days while the Korean officials decided what to do with her. Ultimately, she was handed over to the US government and given to MetaOps. For her first year at MetaOps, much of her time was devoted to strengthening her powers and learning their limits, as well as extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. Sam found that she was a quick learner in hand-to-hand and quickly excelled. She’s no expert, but she’s pretty damn good at it. After that first year, Witch was deemed ready to go out into the field, and has since spent a year operating for MetaOps. Personality: Sam’s primary trait is that she is absolutely curious about everything. If she doesn’t know something to a satisfactory degree, Sam will question anyone she can until she does. However, her curiosity comes with a downside. Her inquisitive nature often leads to strong cynicism, so she finds herself questioning people’s motives more often than she’d like to admit to. Not to say that Sam is an absolute cynic. She still considers herself fortunate that MetaOps picked her up from the Korean government and that she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life in a prison or lab somewhere, and Sam keeps that in mind at all times. She has utmost respect for authority within MetaOps and has fierce loyalty to the division. For the most part, Sam thinks in a procedural, rational manner, but it doesn’t take much for her to lose her cool. She’s young, she’s reckless, and MetaOps often finds itself having to clean up after her or reprimand her actions or rein her in. Appearance: Sam is small and unseeming, standing at only 5’4, but the nature of her power requires her to stay in excellent physical condition. She’s short, but she’s tough, and has a strong, muscular body to make up for her size. As for her other features, Sam has bleached and dyed her naturally black hair into a beach blonde color, wearing it in a medium-length ponytail. She wears thick frame glasses over her dark brown eyes which she replaces with contacts when she is sent on a mission. Speaking of which, her mission attire is a completely black, full-body jumpsuit, with pockets scattered over her legs in various sizes to carry a multitude of things. In addition to this, Sam wears military-grade combat boots and gloves and is more often than not found wearing a different kind of hat on her head. thank you for this image! Sam in her suit (minus the goggles) (the idea for Sam’s power was most definitely inspired by both Chronicle and Elfen Lied. in fact, I might as well have taken a carbon copy from both of them and placed it here, so you could most definitely refer to those if you want a clearer picture of Sam’s power!)
56,157	1,537	15	1,404	5,009	Alexander Ziker - MicWiz Alex enjoyed the introductions, it really felt good to meet people who were just like him and in the same situation. In all truth, it was refreshing, at first this whole program, the whole out look of the situation scared him. Unfortunately, some of the them did not have the same excitement that he did. Most were you cookie-cut, loner, badass, smart one. But there was nothing he could do, he would have to put up with them, just as they would have to put up with him. Despite that, he still did not want to deal with all their useless drama. Things finally seemed to be getting interesting when The Director burst in the room and turned on the TV. Apparently, some immortal monster meta human was attacking the plant. The police could not stop it, so they would have to bare the burden, which was the obvious solution. The BS story was not as BS as it sounded, they were a bunch of Meta Humans fighting off evil, sounded like a vigilante group to him, they just worked under the government for a change. Alex was the first up and out, he had everything he needed on him, his wand. As he walked through the corridors, he unsheathed it and gazed at the pick stone. It was a gem that he himself had never seen, or heard of, but it helped him use his powers. It was actually the reason he picked his name, MicWiz, Wiz stood for Wizard, and that's how he dressed, Mic was just for the heck of it. Alex walked into the Satellite Room, again, first to enter. The only order he received was to through everything he had at the guy. Alex did not believe it was a slow plan, but skilled and nodded. Before he knew it he was inside the plant, shots and screams hung in the air, debris and bodies scattered all over the ground, not a pretty sight. Unfortunately, Alex did not have much time to sight see, the target was a few feet away from him, the reactor not much farther. Alex brought his wand forward and it's gem glowed brightly, suddenly a transparent, thick, pink wall appeared in front of the reactor, that would stop him for a few seconds, but he needed the others to do any real damage. The mission was to stop him from getting to the reactor, and that was what he was doing, fighting the guy came next.	Code Name: MicWiz Real Name: Alexander Ziker Age: 24 Nationality: Caucasian Powers: Energy Constructs Alex can create tools, weapons and other objects from Energy. He can create any can imagine but has to have a good idea how it functions. His constricts can be broken if the amount of force that is applied is greater than the amount the user's imagination can produce. Alexander can use this ability through a wand with a glowing, pink colored, diamonds shaped object on the top. His energy constructs are all colored neon pink. Origins: Alex grew up in a fairly normal environment. Despite having to raise a child as a single parent, his mother still did her best to give her child what he wanted. There was never a shortage of fun when it came to spending fun with his mother. Alex never knew his father, and truly never cared to ask about him. His mother did all she could to be a mother and a father to her son. She had the privilege of having a well paying job a computer programmer, giving her the opportunity to work at home, and spend time with her child. Alex was never a straight A student, but he did what he could in school. Alex was fortunate enough to get into a good collage. Unfortunately, Alex struggled with school, stress angered him, but he hid it with humor. To make things worse, his mother was starting to have health problems. Alex was slowly getting depressed, and for the first time in his life he wished he had a father. The was the lowest point in his life, once he hit his Jr. Year, Alex barely went to school anymore. His mother could not do anything to help her son, since she had a hard time even helping herself. This was the time when hour begin to develop his powers. Alex retreated to his imagination during this time, hopping to escape from the world around him, maybe to unwind. When what he thought up came into existence, he was astonished, disappointed that it was pink, but was amazed. He showed his mother this power, but when she saw it, she was not amazed, instead, she was horrified. She contacted the authorities and he was taken into custody. Alex was soon handed over to MetaOps, since then he has been trained to control his ability. Learn how it works, widen and make more use of his imagination, he will soon be ready to be sent out. Unfortunately, Alex still has mixed feelings about his mother. Personality: Alex is easygoing, upbeat, energetic, funny, flirty and loves to tell jokes, even if they aren't funny. Alex is genuinely very intelligent and honest, and cares about his friends and family. He sometimes doesn't think before reacting and he enjoys pulling pranks on people, especially those who he doesn't like. Despite his jokey attitude, Alex has been shown to have a serious side, which happens when he is angered by someone or when the situation calls for it.
56,158	1,537	16	2,096	5,087	Michelle listened as everyone else made their introductions. This would be her team now. She would have to not mess up with any of them. She had noticed Angelina staring at her pistols, which Michelle passed off as an odd quirk, and nodded again in appreciation at Cathryn's comment about the ammo. That would certainly come in handy if she were to get low on ammo. Then the Director burst into the room bearing bad news about this dangerous fellow attacking a nuclear reactor. Michelle watched the news broadcast, but it didn't give her anything all that useful. He was clearly able to fly, he appeared to be bulletproof, and also quite strong, if breaking through walls with only his hands was anything to judge by. He didn't seem to be able to do much else, which was a welcome sign, but the abilities this "Immortal" fellow already had made him quite a threat already. Standing up, Michelle said to her teammates, "Alright, boys and girls, see you on the battlefield." She left the room to go into the Armory, where she could get a selection of equipment to use. Michelle grabbed a grenade belt as well as a submachine gun. She would be fighting in close quarters, so it seemed like the best choice. She added a few customizations on it to make it focus more on accuracy rather than power. A scope, a smaller clip, a better stock, etc.	Code Name: Widowmaker Real Name: Michelle Kine Age: 27 Gender: Female Nationality: American Powers: None. She is a normal human through and through. Instead, she has these talents: -Sharpshooter: Michelle is a master with virtually any firearm one could come up with. Pistols, sniper rifles, grenade launchers, you name it, she can use it. -Battle instincts: honed through a lifetime of fighting both normals and super humans, Michelle both reacts and recovers more quickly than most. -Fist fighting: Just because she uses firearms so much doesn't mean she doesn't know how to fight without one. Origins/History: Michelle grew up in a rough neighborhood. Gangs controlled the streets, and not even the police did anything about them; in fact, some were even bribed to keep their noses out of the conflict. As a result, little Michelle had to learn how to fend for herself. It certainly wasn't easy, especially since she was a girl. In time, though, she earned a reputation among the gangs so they knew not to bother her. Of course, things took a turn for the worse when she encountered a gang leader who was a super human. She fought hard, but she ultimately could not contend. Before she faced complete defeat, however, she was fortunate enough to have another super human interfere in the fight and save her. Michelle was too proud at first to express her thanks, but they eventually became good friends. When they grew up, they enlisted in the military. The two went through tough times, both in the field and at home, but they were inseparable. At least, until one day, when two were caught by surprise and Michelle's friend died in the firefight by another super human. Michelle had quickly killed the one who had done the deed, but it did little to ease the pain of the loss. Shortly after, Michelle was approached with the offer to join MetaOps, which Michelle accepted. Personality: Michelle has a hard look in her eyes, as if she had seen terrible things. She's also not the most chatty person either. However, the look can soften, and a kinder personality will show. In a fight, there's no one else you would have to stay by your side, and will stay by you if your death slowly approaches.
56,159	1,537	17	1,884	334	Drake had been listening to what little conversation had been going on in the room when the "Pirate Queen" spoke up. He couldn't help but get a little bit excited when he saw her, a boyish grin growing on his face. He had heard plenty of her, knowing she was practically a legendary criminal... And now she was here? That was cool. When the general came bursting in to give them the update, Drake looked around in confusion. The satellite room? How the hell was he supposed to know where that was exactly? It wasn't like anyone had given him a tour of this place! Fortunately it seemed like at least someone knew where they were going, as he was able to basically just follow Alex to he room where Crosscut had located himself to. "When are we heading out?" He asked quickly, the nerves of going to fight another meta already beginning to get to him.	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,160	1,537	18	1,449	5,936	For the remainder of the cute little introduction period, Revel listened intently, his chin perched on his fist. Some of the people here, he knew, could offer little in the department of useful or even entertaining information, but he whatever he could glean from them he store in his mental repository. Through the imagined files he shifted, debating whether to archive these latest details for future use, or cast them aside. Powerless sniper? Memorized. Revel smirked; a bullet from far away was the only way someone like Michelle could possibly contribute to a fight. Drake the Chimera? Nothing poignant there. Immortal Freyja? Perhaps useful as a meat shield, or a distraction. Revel always appreciated someone he could throw at the enemy to give him more time to plan. So far, Willow had proved herself capable to the task, but after the twelfth time repairing her cybernetics had lost its charm. When the unsolicited voice of Drake piped up again, this time from the designated 'audience', Revel rolled his eyes. This was not the time to be asking moronic questions in order to chat with a girl. A few moments passed before the next person got up, leaving Revel time to think. He had expected a formal military training routine, adapted to suit a band of superpowered folk certainly, but something regimented nonetheless. Only through strictest control could a tactician intelligently use his soldiers. While Revel fancied himself such a strategist, he had resigned himself to playing the role of subordinate in order to see his grand scheme to fruition, so perhaps it was a better thing the Director wasn't being more authoritative. Still, it seemed to Revel like something more than a meet-and-greet was necessary to get the ball rolling. In particular, the string-puller looked forward to observing the powers of the others—at least, those he hadn't already foreseen. The piercing tone of Bright Angel yanked Revel from his reverie. He winced to hear it, wondering yet again why a mere girl would be assigned as his equal. It was insulting to say the least. When Cliff made himself known, however, Revel's fascination ignited. The gestures of a man more than touched by drugs did not escape his eyes, and it pleased the string-puller to recognize someone against whom leverage could be used. Those gripped by drugs, either now or in the past, always listened where others might not. Finally came Cathryn, and Revel's green eyes fixated upon her. His precognition had granted him her name, but of all her characteristics, it interested him least. Shapely. Blunt. Gun-wielder. Annoyingly confident. And yes, I've seen you on the news. A thorough scoundrel! Fewer silly ideals to get in the way. Pity I couldn't see more of you...I should like very much to see how you respond to some of my serums. As Cathryn finished and sauntered by, Revel shot her an infatuated smile. Almost immediately after, none other than the project head appeared. Idly wondering if the urgency of his movements meant that things were about to kick off, Revel heeded the Director's explanation. Hah! He resisted the urge to laugh out loud. Running in blind, are we? He mused, grinning. It'll be a slaughter. But it'll make the team stronger by weeding out the weak ones. After a meaningful glance back at Bright Angel, he followed the Widowmaker, MicWiz, and the Chimera to the Satellite room. “Beam me up, snotty.” And just like that, Revel stood in the nuclear plant. He snorted after Crosscut vanished. “Hit him with everything we have? How stupid. The victorious strategist only seeks battle after the victory has been won.” He glanced at the magical barrier conjured by MicWiz, then at Michelle. “We cannot attempt to defend something by placing ourselves and our objective side-by-side. Let me think...” Revel placed his palm to his head and closed his eyes, as if trying to remember something. The information he sought, however, came not from the past but from the future. He knew that the black-and-gold-clad figure would have no trouble either finding the reactor or penetrating the wizard's shield. He also knew that when Michelle attempted to shoot the Immortal, striding silently toward them, the bullets would do him no harm. “Well, sucks to be you, Widow. Your submachine there won't do anything but annoy this asshole. He's near-invincible. If he gets in this room, we're done. All we can do is bind him and move him around while we try to find out what's responsible for the 'near' part. I didn't any better a read on him, but a lot of people with a lot of power are arrogant and can be baited. If we annoy him, he'll come after us instead of the reactor. Let's move into the next room and see if we can find anything we can use.”	Code Name: Revel Real Name: Mòric Syg Age: 29 Gender: Male Nationality: Hungarian Powers: The only superpower Revel has is a limited form of precognition. Though he can't see the future, technically, Revel simply knows it. Knowledge from the future simply manifests in his brain, like a hidden memory suddenly provoked. Revel is able to identify that said information is from the future, as well as from how far forward it came. The longest he's ever been able to know something before its occurrence is two hours. After developing this power for a while, Revel realized that this knowledge comes from futures that can be, not futures that are, and grew to be able to figure out the consequences of certain actions before performing them. Revel wields two bracers that each contain lengths of cord. In response to certain nerve impulses, the cords can be extended, retracted, or electrified. This is not a power; merely a weapon. Origins/History: Though he was born in Hungary, Mòric's parents had no intention of keeping him there. The road to the United States was a hard one, but in the end the little family departed for the new world. They had heard tales of a land of opportunity, where even the poorest men could become legendary through the strength of their will and the work of their hands, but after arriving they found another side to the story altogether. Nowadays Revel remembers little, particularly the circumstances leading up to the defining event of his youth, but he keenly recalls the stinging abandonment. Though Revel inwardly suspects they couldn't take properly take care of him or provide for him, an acknowledged possibility is that they simply didn't want him after all. Luck smiled upon the fair-haired dark child, however, and a traveling carnival of dubious repute took him in. A childhood spent among such a wacky assembly greatly influenced his character; Revel learned hierarchy, trickery, theatricality, deception, and how to manipulate. As a teenager he served as the ringmaster, the youngest to date, introducing and playing a part with incredible feats to keep the crowd enthralled and its money in hand. In his spare time, he attended several schools as the circus traveled, getting expelled from one after another but never giving up his quest for knowledge. Revel's own psyche, already decidedly misaligned, continued down its skewed path. His ambitions and intellect reached far, far beyond entertainment. It was during this time that he realized he had supernatural ability to see a short way into the future, and without either questioning or hesitation he accepted his gift and put it to use. Years later, a new boss took over the carnival, despite the rumors of abductions and experimentation. Willow, daughter of a recent immigrant to the United States from Vietnam and a self-made woman, was determined to set the despicable community to rights. Slowly, her enlightening, positive influence and vast intelligence permeated every carny of the lot save one: Revel. After weeks in seclusion, avoiding his boss while devouring company funds at an incredible rate, he emerged from his mobile laboratory bedecked in strange clothes and wielding sinister technology. He approached Willow at her desk and let loose a swarm of nanites upon her. The microscopic swarm of robots integrated themselves with the woman from head to toe, placing her squarely under Revel's influence. Revel's first triumph catalyzed a wave of terror as the entire carnival collapsed, all resources heading straight to the String Puller as he weaseled his way into infamy. Shortly thereafter Revel disappeared, and began in secret a cult using his precognitive abilities to gain followers. Guessing that he wasn't the only superpowered person in the world, Revel set about making armaments for himself and his followers, and endeavored to learn more about others like him. When Revel caught wind through an associate named Quaily that the MetaOps project and been formed and was combing the country for suitable recruits. With this in mind, Revel severed ties from his cult, making sure his past was well hidden, left his second-in-command in charge, and allowed himself to be captured by MetaOps operatives during a feigned robbery. When offered a chance for redemption by project administrators, he grudgingly conceded. Personality: Revel is slimy and secretive, with little to no morality limiting his ambitions and the meeting of his goals. He is outwardly charming but inwardly misogynistic and narcissistic. In fact he is incredibly sexist, enjoying having control over females in any aspect from their fear to their form. His ultimate passion is to control and contort, and he has a curiosity that has led him to experiment. The fact that he has created a cult with him as the head is a testament to his manipulative ability and charisma. Revel is the ultimate ringleader, the shadow and the plot behind the front lines, the cult leader playing chess with people. A knack for adapting to the situation at hand and learning from his failures make him particularly dangerous. In everyday circumstances, he is very capable of feigning ordinary emotion, and hides his...eccentricities. One thing he greatly enjoys is to guess what other people are going to say before they do so, and then be right. Appearance: Revel wears the same gear he wore during his feigned robbery, reasoning that it will 'remind of the past self he's trying to redeem'. He is slightly farsighted and speaks with a hint of a Hungarian accent.
56,161	1,537	19	952	2,710	The Immortal hovered over to the reactor. It would finally be over, after all these years. A sudden pink wall appeared suddenly to block his way. The Immortal turned to see MicWiz being the cause of the irritation before him. "There's no point in trying to stop me, boy. You're obviously not a normal human, so I suggest using your powers to escape. Maybe you can save some the civilians nearby," he told MicWiz. He saw Revel, Widowmaker, and Chimera as well, but ignored them. If they got in the way he would simply plow through them like he did the police from before. "Though, if I were you, I'd stay and accept the inevitable. What I'm about to do will probably be much preferable to what he plans on doing. Now, drop the... wall, before I have to hurt you."	Code Name: Witch Real Name: Samantha Choi Age: 24 Gender: Female Nationality: Korean-American Powers: Witch has telekinesis, similar to having an extra pair of long, strong, invisible arms. Limited to a range of twenty meters, the strength of her telekinesis is directly related to Witch’s physical strength and fatigue. The more in shape she is, the more weight she can carry. However, her telekinesis does not simply extend her reach; the weight she can carry through telekinesis versus how much she can normally carry is multiplied by a factor of ten. If Witch can lift up a one hundred pound object with her hands, she can lift a one thousand pound object through telekinesis. Other notes about her “arms”: Witch must be able to see what she is trying to carry. Her telekinesis can also be used to lift herself up, giving the impression she can fly or float. Finally, her “arms” are not only good for carrying things, but also smashing or tearing things. Again, they are like invisible arms, so anything a normal person could do with their arms, she can do with her extra ones. Origins/History: Samantha had a fairly privileged life prior to joining MetaOps. She attended college for a major in physics, but Sam still found enough free time to party almost every weekend (except for during midterms and finals. Nobody parties during midterms and finals). She didn’t get into any trouble during college, however, and graduated at 22 with a stellar GPA. After graduation, however, things got a little difficult. Sam had trouble finding a job, so she got on the next flight to Korean and stayed at her grandparents’ house in Seoul. It was in Seoul that Sam realized that she could pick things up from a distance, something she swore she couldn’t do beforehand. She began toying with her newfound power in the safety of her own home, slowly getting accustomed to using her extra arms. Sam began to piece together the details of her power; their effective distance, their strength, and how they related to her strength. It didn’t take long for her grandparents to find out she had telekinesis. After long deliberation, they ultimately decided to turn Sam in to the authorities. Sam refused, running from her grandparents’ home out of fear. However, Sam’s inherent recklessness kept getting her into trouble. She would abuse her power to try to steal from stores in order to survive on the streets of Seoul. For several months, Sam got along nicely in Seoul. However, her luck eventually ran out, and a shopkeeper noticed that he was being robbed. Sam managed to escape, but the security footage didn’t lie. The shopkeeper alerted the government right away. As soon as the guns started to be waved at Sam, she surrendered. She was held in isolation for several days while the Korean officials decided what to do with her. Ultimately, she was handed over to the US government and given to MetaOps. For her first year at MetaOps, much of her time was devoted to strengthening her powers and learning their limits, as well as extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. Sam found that she was a quick learner in hand-to-hand and quickly excelled. She’s no expert, but she’s pretty damn good at it. After that first year, Witch was deemed ready to go out into the field, and has since spent a year operating for MetaOps. Personality: Sam’s primary trait is that she is absolutely curious about everything. If she doesn’t know something to a satisfactory degree, Sam will question anyone she can until she does. However, her curiosity comes with a downside. Her inquisitive nature often leads to strong cynicism, so she finds herself questioning people’s motives more often than she’d like to admit to. Not to say that Sam is an absolute cynic. She still considers herself fortunate that MetaOps picked her up from the Korean government and that she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life in a prison or lab somewhere, and Sam keeps that in mind at all times. She has utmost respect for authority within MetaOps and has fierce loyalty to the division. For the most part, Sam thinks in a procedural, rational manner, but it doesn’t take much for her to lose her cool. She’s young, she’s reckless, and MetaOps often finds itself having to clean up after her or reprimand her actions or rein her in. Appearance: Sam is small and unseeming, standing at only 5’4, but the nature of her power requires her to stay in excellent physical condition. She’s short, but she’s tough, and has a strong, muscular body to make up for her size. As for her other features, Sam has bleached and dyed her naturally black hair into a beach blonde color, wearing it in a medium-length ponytail. She wears thick frame glasses over her dark brown eyes which she replaces with contacts when she is sent on a mission. Speaking of which, her mission attire is a completely black, full-body jumpsuit, with pockets scattered over her legs in various sizes to carry a multitude of things. In addition to this, Sam wears military-grade combat boots and gloves and is more often than not found wearing a different kind of hat on her head. thank you for this image! Sam in her suit (minus the goggles) (the idea for Sam’s power was most definitely inspired by both Chronicle and Elfen Lied. in fact, I might as well have taken a carbon copy from both of them and placed it here, so you could most definitely refer to those if you want a clearer picture of Sam’s power!)
56,162	1,537	20	1,404	5,009	Alexander Ziker - MicWiz Alex felt a bit relived to see some of the others, in truth, he really did believe that there were not coming. He remembered there Codenames from their introductions back at the base. Chimera, he most likely had the ability to shape shift, the name kind of hinted at it, although he was not so sure. His ability may be useful in the fight against a god, he could always land on him, as a whale. Next was Widowmaker, the gun-ho badass, and the one with the clear disadvantage. Shooting the guy would be like throwing seeds at a concrete wall. She may end up holding them back if she was not careful. Then their was Revel, he could not guess his powers, maybe he had the ability to moon, anywhere, that would be something. Despite this, the guys carried himself well, with an aura of confidence, although Alex may have been the only person who felt that way. Alex glanced at Revel while the guy told them to let him think, he made sure to keep the wall up and strong. Revel looked like he was thinking hard, whatever it was, Alex hoped it would help them. Unfortunately, Revel's first comment did not help them much, he was stating the obvious. "That didn't help us in anyway." He mumbled to himself despondently. The guys plan was as straight forward as Crosscut, peel his focus off the reactor and towards them. They were basically trying to annoy a tiger enough to leave it's prey and come after us. Alex shrugged, "Alrighty, make him focus us...this was suicide was a suicide mission from the start huh?" he said as he let down his shield. Alex did not wait for a response before activating his wand. The gem on top glowed, pink aura emanating from it brightly. Alex closed his eyes for a few seconds, and took a deep breath. In his minds eye he imagined a tank, during his training for the MetaOps program, he was made to memorize the inner working of hundreds of vehicles. Alex brought his wand up into the air, and then brought it down quickly, as if he was going to hit the ground. Suddenly, pink smoke enveloped the air, by the time it cleared, a pink, M18 "Hell Cat" was in front of them. It was not transparent, but is lines were think black, making it look as if it was drawn, but the pink energy made it so life like. On the side there was Alexs' code name MicWiz in all caps. The hatch at the very top opened up and Alex climbed inside. His upper body could be seen poking out over the hatch. He brought his wand forward, "Fire" he yelled and a flash of pink energy shout out from the tanks cannon, heading straight for The Immortal.	Code Name: MicWiz Real Name: Alexander Ziker Age: 24 Nationality: Caucasian Powers: Energy Constructs Alex can create tools, weapons and other objects from Energy. He can create any can imagine but has to have a good idea how it functions. His constricts can be broken if the amount of force that is applied is greater than the amount the user's imagination can produce. Alexander can use this ability through a wand with a glowing, pink colored, diamonds shaped object on the top. His energy constructs are all colored neon pink. Origins: Alex grew up in a fairly normal environment. Despite having to raise a child as a single parent, his mother still did her best to give her child what he wanted. There was never a shortage of fun when it came to spending fun with his mother. Alex never knew his father, and truly never cared to ask about him. His mother did all she could to be a mother and a father to her son. She had the privilege of having a well paying job a computer programmer, giving her the opportunity to work at home, and spend time with her child. Alex was never a straight A student, but he did what he could in school. Alex was fortunate enough to get into a good collage. Unfortunately, Alex struggled with school, stress angered him, but he hid it with humor. To make things worse, his mother was starting to have health problems. Alex was slowly getting depressed, and for the first time in his life he wished he had a father. The was the lowest point in his life, once he hit his Jr. Year, Alex barely went to school anymore. His mother could not do anything to help her son, since she had a hard time even helping herself. This was the time when hour begin to develop his powers. Alex retreated to his imagination during this time, hopping to escape from the world around him, maybe to unwind. When what he thought up came into existence, he was astonished, disappointed that it was pink, but was amazed. He showed his mother this power, but when she saw it, she was not amazed, instead, she was horrified. She contacted the authorities and he was taken into custody. Alex was soon handed over to MetaOps, since then he has been trained to control his ability. Learn how it works, widen and make more use of his imagination, he will soon be ready to be sent out. Unfortunately, Alex still has mixed feelings about his mother. Personality: Alex is easygoing, upbeat, energetic, funny, flirty and loves to tell jokes, even if they aren't funny. Alex is genuinely very intelligent and honest, and cares about his friends and family. He sometimes doesn't think before reacting and he enjoys pulling pranks on people, especially those who he doesn't like. Despite his jokey attitude, Alex has been shown to have a serious side, which happens when he is angered by someone or when the situation calls for it.
56,163	1,537	21	2,725	212	Drake's power was a little more complicated than Izzy's own, it seemed, but that made it fun to hear about. She nodded in understanding, and was about to ask why he had described it as 'broken,' but stopped when Cathryn introduced herself as the Pirate Queen. Izzy stared at the woman for a moment, certain she recognized her in some way. Her thoughts were interrupted by the abrupt reappearance of the Director. He turned on a projector, showing footage of a meta-human. As the Director spoke, Izzy stared at the footage, in muted shock. This man, The Immortal, had the power to be a proper super-hero, straight out of a comic book, and yet... he was doing this. And she would have to fight him. Izzy had little experience in general, and even less when it came to meta-humans. The most she had ever gone up against were metas with C-list abilities. Her heart-rate increased as she picked herself up out of her chair, a little unsteady at first. As she followed Michelle to the Armory, she kept reminding herself that she couldn't die, that she had nothing to fear. Over and over and over. No... fear, the voice croaked out. Izzy was unsure about what she should grab, considering how little she knew about The Immortal. A SIG Sauer P226 pistol was a decent idea, as it was the firearm she was most comfortable with. It likely wouldn't do much against her enemy, but she couldn't not take a gun. A combat knife she could take. Even if she didn't use it, it was light enough to justify. And grenades. The only thing she thought might be able to damage the meta and that she felt she had enough training with to use. She threw on the smallest, thinnest combat vest she could find, and filled it's pockets with fragmentation, stun, and concussive grenades, along with a few extra clips for her pistol. Jogging after the others of her new team, she focused on keeping herself as calm as possible. She regarded Ray with a nervous, but determined look, and nodded as firmly as she could manage, to tell him that she was ready. A blink later, Izzy found herself in the plant, disorientated after the sudden, drastic change in surroundings. Eyes wide and teeth grinding, she took a second to ground herself, spotting the others of MetaOps who had already been teleported here. Her first instinct was to run towards them, as both Revel and Widowmaker appeared to know what they were doing. Before she could act on that, however, she noticed the floating Immortal, who did not seem to care in the slightest that several meta-humans had just appeared to challenge him. A pink wall suddenly obstructed the course he was currently set on, created by Alex. He turned to the robe-clad man. The Immortal's words were cryptic and foreboding, but Izzy quickly disregarded it all after he finished on a threat directed towards Alex. The tank conjured up by Alex took her by surprise, but at this point, she chose not to think about it too much. She had to do the only thing she could. Distract. The girl fumbled with a pouch, pulling out a stun grenade and tossing away the pin. "Look away!" she yelled in the loudest voice she could muster while lobbing it at The Immortal's feet, the timing such that it would detonate a moment after Alex's cannon-shot hit. Izzy turned and ran further away from the group, heart pounding in her ears, trying to split the enemy's attention. She hoped he'd go after her, the easy, lone target, giving everyone else a little more time to do... whatever they could do.	Appearance: Code Name: Freyja Real Name: Isabelle "Izzy" Winters Age: 20 Gender: Female Nationality: British-Canadian Powers: Some sort of entity inhabits Izzy's body alongside her. This spirit hasn't displayed the ability to take control of her body, and can do no more than occasionally whisper into her mind. It does, however, make Izzy immortal. Any injury that the girl sustains, no matter how severe, will heal itself nearly instantly after a long delay. The delay depends on the severity of the wound, and will generally be several hours long. This regeneration will activate even if Izzy is dead, and will bring her back to life, only slightly worse for wear. What Izzy's power does not do is nullify pain in any way. Getting shot will still hurt her. A lot. Power Origin: The eight-year-old Izzy had just woken up from a nightmare. The same one she had had every night, without fail, for the past two years. In it, she would wake up not in her own bed, but her mothers. With neither of her parents in sight, she would hop off the tall bed and exit into the hallway. Walking down it would take far longer than it did in real life. Eventually, she would make it to her dark kitchen and tiptoe around the table, every step taking her closer to the stairs that lead to the basement. And she would stand there, staring in horror, as the door creaked open, revealing a rotting, human figure. Its face was a mess, with no distinguishable human features, its skin was loose and grey, and its limbs were too long and ended in clawed hands and feet. It would climb up towards her, and she knew she should run, but she could never move. It would reach her, and grab hold of her. And then it would slash at her stomach. Any normal nightmare of Izzy's would have ended right there, but this one continued. The creature would tear the helpless girl apart, and no matter how mutilated she became, she wouldn't die. She would lay there in terror, and in unimaginable pain, waiting for the creature to stop. Which it would, eventually. After it had had its fill of fun, it would take one last, blank look at the girl's eyes, before slowly turning and crawling back down to the basement. The young girl shivered under her covers, a cold sweat covering her. After spending an hour calming herself down, telling herself it was only a dream, she fell asleep again, knowing her ordeal for the night was over. That morning, she decided she had had enough. Gathering her courage over a few hours, she made her way to the basement stairs while her parents were outside, enjoying the summer sun. Izzy had always made a point of avoiding the basement when not with her parents, but today, she desperately wanted to prove to herself that there was nothing to be scared of. Clutching the fabric of her shirt at her chest, she took the first step down -- and tripped over a shoe. She tumbled down violently, landing at the base of the stairs, in too much shock to make any noise. Pain and nausea swept across her small body, and she fought to focus her eyes. Panic set in as she realized she couldn't move and that her body was twisted in ways that it shouldn't have been. As life left her, her eyes darted around, desperate for help. And then she saw it. The creature from her nightmare. It stood in the short hallway, only a few feet from her, looking down at her small frame. It crouched down and touched her cheek, and she could feel its cold skin. She had seen it hundreds of times in her mind, but this was too much. The wave of terror that hit her was what finally caused her to lose consciousness. When she came to, she was in an Intensive Care Unit, surrounded by a doctor and a few nurses who stared down at her in disbelief. They all started up at the same time, running around the room chaotically. Through it all, only one thing was clear to Izzy. A raspy voice. Hel... lo. Her head groggy, the next hours were a blur. Tests were run on her, confirming that all her injuries were healed. Realizing Izzy was a meta-human, the doctors let the government know. As she was so young, no action beyond covering up the event was done. Instead, her parents were told that when Izzy was of age, she would be brought into the military. History: With her life set from the beginning, Izzy had no real cares or worries during her teen years. The hardest thing she endured in her life, other than that voice in her head, was moving from Edmonton to Montreal when she was 13, but she adjusted quickly to the new city, and even picked up a little french. She didn't have to overachieve in school, nor work part-time jobs to pay for tuitions. Instead, she made sure to enjoy herself. While not a natural thrill-seeker, she did plenty of stupid stuff, knowing she didn't have to fear death. It's enough to say that she woke up in a puddle of her own dried blood more than a few times. The pain was the worst part. Most of the time, she would either pass out quickly from it or just die, which was always ideal, but a couple times she had to lay in agony for hours until her ability kicked in. Having that happen was always her biggest fear, and the only reason why she wasn't out enjoying herself all the time. When not out and about, Izzy ate up any sort of media that involved an immortal character. For obvious reasons, she couldn't get enough. Between those two and socializing, she saw no point in making much of an effort in her school work. She got by without too much trouble though never reached her potential. The day came where Izzy turned 18. She wasn't sure whether she was happy about that or not. On one hand, being a superhero and fighting to save people seemed awesome, though she worried that she had romanticized that idea over the years. On the other, her easy, fun life was over. Knowing that worrying about it would change nothing, she had a tearful goodbye with her parents before being driven off and told she would be part of MetaOps. Not being very good at the whole military-killing thing, it took a good year-and-a-half of training to get Izzy ready for her first mission. She died on that one. And the one after that. Personality: Izzy is sociable, if a little quiet. She enjoys spending time with people, but does act a little shy often. She tends to be very polite with people, and always has a smile on her face in an attempt to brighten other's days. Understandably, she doesn't put much value on her life, which is a good thing since that's basically in her job description. Despite having been hot stuff in her teen days, her confidence has been greatly dampened by the fact that she's extremely inexperienced compared to everyone around her. Not only that, but she seems to take longer than everyone else to pick things up. When she lets her mind wander, she tends to think that she's only kept around as cannon-fodder to keep other, better soldiers alive. She's mostly gotten over her habit of ignoring work, and tries her best to improve herself so that she can keep others safe. Or at least not bring them down.
56,164	1,537	22	1,884	334	Drake appeared with the others after Alex had already done the most important task of the evening; meaning he had already blocked off the reactor in order to buy them time. Somehow, that one act caused him to begin to like the guy just a bit more. Next he went on to listen to Revel's plan, feeling the same as the rest: underwhelmed. Find something in another room? Seriously? There was a Meta-Human who was threatening the safety of everyone here, there was no way they could waste time like that. Fortunately Drake agreed with Alex and knew their only chance was to peel the Immortal off from the reactor, a definitely reasonable and more effective task. In the back of Drake's mind he decided he almost certainly needed to buy Alex a drink or something after he conjured a tank in order to apply a distraction, and Izzy's addition of a grenade was greatly appreciated. Drake turned his head to cover his hyper-sensitive ears just in time, cursing slightly as he heard the noise. He couldn't be distracted now though, they needed a distraction on this guy, and while he knew little about everyone elses powers he knew his were more than suited to the task at hand. He almost certainly couldn't take this guy if what they knew about his strength was right, but distract him and maybe even give him a fight? Hell yeah. "Now that's a plan!" Drake shouted as he stepped forwards, his eyes slowly turning to pure black. "Cover me Wiz!" With that his body began to bulge, growing at an absolutely impossible rate. First fur began to spread across his skin, ripping through his clothing as if it were made of paper, following by his enormous tail and huge, leathery wings. Soon enough he was in his massive form, definitely giving an intimidating appearance. His four legs were bloated with muscle, his shoulders and wings following suit with massive mass. His wings flapped and slowly unfurled as he bared his razor sharp teeth, letting out a large roar. This guy had strength? Check, so did the Chimera. He could fly? So could Drake, though he was almost certainly not as agile. Still with his partners behind him he had to hope he could give them enough time to come in and save his ass. And with that, he charged the meta.	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,165	1,537	23	1,449	5,936	When the Immortal appeared only a few meters away, Revel could barely keep himself from jumping in surprise. “Good grief, I only saw a few seconds forward? How terrible!” Revel composed himself and leaped backwards, clearing the way for MicWiz to summon his tank. It was an impressive feat; no sense in risking himself on the front lines if someone else was intent on being the main event. Instinctively, the string-puller loosed the muscles that controlled his whips, preparing to fire them out. He had barely accomplished this, however, when a new report flashed in his mind. When he threw out his whips to wrap around the Immortal's body, they would restrain him for mere seconds before succumbing to his hyper strength and ripping apart like weeds in the hand of a grim gardener. Even electrifying them wouldn't buy enough time, and even if Revel decided to make the sacrifice anyway, relying upon his crack team of metas to take the initiative, he'd be disarmed. This perilous situation courted death in a multitude of ways, but Revel knew better than to let the stress get to him. He lived for these rushes. There was nothing so satisfying than defeating an ultra-powered meta with wits—brain over brawn of the highest calibre. So thinking, Revel jumped back again, trusting MicWiz's barrage to keep the Immortal back. He sidled up to the wizard and warned, “After he bops our Chimera between the eyes he'll go for you to stop this magic at the source. I'm going to place a trap around you. When he swoops down to hit you, dive forward, not backward. I'll take care of it.” So saying, Revel loosened his whips and shot them upward toward the ceiling. After letting out some slack, he laid it around MicWiz's feet, and stepped away. It was not his intention to try and snare the Immortal; rather, he would pull his electrified cables taught and let Revel hit them. Hard things could be broken with concussive force, but soft things like cords had to cut or pulled apart by tension. Revel predicted that if the Immortal punched his stretched whips, he'd get a numbing shock, but the cables would be unharmed. An invincible being's nerves couldn't be destroyed, but with the right impulse, they could be jolted into acting randomly. Plus, if the Immortal saw the trap and went to disable it, he'd leave himself wide open. More information poured into Revel's head, but this cache held only one, dreadful secret. Beneath the cyan tint of his goggles, his eyes widened in alarm. “Looks like the Immortal doesn't want to be immortal any longer. He's going to try to blow up the reactor with himself inside, in hopes of ending his miserable existence.” This comment was made more to himself than anyone else, but anybody in his immediate vicinity would hear it, too.	Code Name: Revel Real Name: Mòric Syg Age: 29 Gender: Male Nationality: Hungarian Powers: The only superpower Revel has is a limited form of precognition. Though he can't see the future, technically, Revel simply knows it. Knowledge from the future simply manifests in his brain, like a hidden memory suddenly provoked. Revel is able to identify that said information is from the future, as well as from how far forward it came. The longest he's ever been able to know something before its occurrence is two hours. After developing this power for a while, Revel realized that this knowledge comes from futures that can be, not futures that are, and grew to be able to figure out the consequences of certain actions before performing them. Revel wields two bracers that each contain lengths of cord. In response to certain nerve impulses, the cords can be extended, retracted, or electrified. This is not a power; merely a weapon. Origins/History: Though he was born in Hungary, Mòric's parents had no intention of keeping him there. The road to the United States was a hard one, but in the end the little family departed for the new world. They had heard tales of a land of opportunity, where even the poorest men could become legendary through the strength of their will and the work of their hands, but after arriving they found another side to the story altogether. Nowadays Revel remembers little, particularly the circumstances leading up to the defining event of his youth, but he keenly recalls the stinging abandonment. Though Revel inwardly suspects they couldn't take properly take care of him or provide for him, an acknowledged possibility is that they simply didn't want him after all. Luck smiled upon the fair-haired dark child, however, and a traveling carnival of dubious repute took him in. A childhood spent among such a wacky assembly greatly influenced his character; Revel learned hierarchy, trickery, theatricality, deception, and how to manipulate. As a teenager he served as the ringmaster, the youngest to date, introducing and playing a part with incredible feats to keep the crowd enthralled and its money in hand. In his spare time, he attended several schools as the circus traveled, getting expelled from one after another but never giving up his quest for knowledge. Revel's own psyche, already decidedly misaligned, continued down its skewed path. His ambitions and intellect reached far, far beyond entertainment. It was during this time that he realized he had supernatural ability to see a short way into the future, and without either questioning or hesitation he accepted his gift and put it to use. Years later, a new boss took over the carnival, despite the rumors of abductions and experimentation. Willow, daughter of a recent immigrant to the United States from Vietnam and a self-made woman, was determined to set the despicable community to rights. Slowly, her enlightening, positive influence and vast intelligence permeated every carny of the lot save one: Revel. After weeks in seclusion, avoiding his boss while devouring company funds at an incredible rate, he emerged from his mobile laboratory bedecked in strange clothes and wielding sinister technology. He approached Willow at her desk and let loose a swarm of nanites upon her. The microscopic swarm of robots integrated themselves with the woman from head to toe, placing her squarely under Revel's influence. Revel's first triumph catalyzed a wave of terror as the entire carnival collapsed, all resources heading straight to the String Puller as he weaseled his way into infamy. Shortly thereafter Revel disappeared, and began in secret a cult using his precognitive abilities to gain followers. Guessing that he wasn't the only superpowered person in the world, Revel set about making armaments for himself and his followers, and endeavored to learn more about others like him. When Revel caught wind through an associate named Quaily that the MetaOps project and been formed and was combing the country for suitable recruits. With this in mind, Revel severed ties from his cult, making sure his past was well hidden, left his second-in-command in charge, and allowed himself to be captured by MetaOps operatives during a feigned robbery. When offered a chance for redemption by project administrators, he grudgingly conceded. Personality: Revel is slimy and secretive, with little to no morality limiting his ambitions and the meeting of his goals. He is outwardly charming but inwardly misogynistic and narcissistic. In fact he is incredibly sexist, enjoying having control over females in any aspect from their fear to their form. His ultimate passion is to control and contort, and he has a curiosity that has led him to experiment. The fact that he has created a cult with him as the head is a testament to his manipulative ability and charisma. Revel is the ultimate ringleader, the shadow and the plot behind the front lines, the cult leader playing chess with people. A knack for adapting to the situation at hand and learning from his failures make him particularly dangerous. In everyday circumstances, he is very capable of feigning ordinary emotion, and hides his...eccentricities. One thing he greatly enjoys is to guess what other people are going to say before they do so, and then be right. Appearance: Revel wears the same gear he wore during his feigned robbery, reasoning that it will 'remind of the past self he's trying to redeem'. He is slightly farsighted and speaks with a hint of a Hungarian accent.
56,166	1,537	24	952	2,710	MicWiz's tank shot hit The Immortal just as MicWiz had intended. Unfortunately for the youth, it did not have the results he may have wished for. The Immortal got into position to quickly rush his opponent, until a stun grenade went off in front of him. As The Immortal recovered from disorientation, he looked up to see Chimera flying towards him. The Immortal looked at the 'beast' coming towards him with unamusement. Before Chimera could land an attack, The Immortal grabbed him by the throat and told him, "I have lived on this Earth for longer than you can conceive. This fight is pointless. Just let me end my suffering." He threw the boy with no effort, only sending him to the other side of the facility. Then, he turned towards MicWiz. "I already have you a chance to leave. Know that you have brought this on yourself." The Immortal quickly flew to the MicWiz, intending to grab him, but Revel's foresight seemed to have saved MicWiz's life. Electricity flowed through his body and he quickly tried to entangle himself from the wires. When he was finally free, The Immortal turned to Revel. "I was mistaken, obviously you are the biggest threat here. Show me what else you've got."	Code Name: Witch Real Name: Samantha Choi Age: 24 Gender: Female Nationality: Korean-American Powers: Witch has telekinesis, similar to having an extra pair of long, strong, invisible arms. Limited to a range of twenty meters, the strength of her telekinesis is directly related to Witch’s physical strength and fatigue. The more in shape she is, the more weight she can carry. However, her telekinesis does not simply extend her reach; the weight she can carry through telekinesis versus how much she can normally carry is multiplied by a factor of ten. If Witch can lift up a one hundred pound object with her hands, she can lift a one thousand pound object through telekinesis. Other notes about her “arms”: Witch must be able to see what she is trying to carry. Her telekinesis can also be used to lift herself up, giving the impression she can fly or float. Finally, her “arms” are not only good for carrying things, but also smashing or tearing things. Again, they are like invisible arms, so anything a normal person could do with their arms, she can do with her extra ones. Origins/History: Samantha had a fairly privileged life prior to joining MetaOps. She attended college for a major in physics, but Sam still found enough free time to party almost every weekend (except for during midterms and finals. Nobody parties during midterms and finals). She didn’t get into any trouble during college, however, and graduated at 22 with a stellar GPA. After graduation, however, things got a little difficult. Sam had trouble finding a job, so she got on the next flight to Korean and stayed at her grandparents’ house in Seoul. It was in Seoul that Sam realized that she could pick things up from a distance, something she swore she couldn’t do beforehand. She began toying with her newfound power in the safety of her own home, slowly getting accustomed to using her extra arms. Sam began to piece together the details of her power; their effective distance, their strength, and how they related to her strength. It didn’t take long for her grandparents to find out she had telekinesis. After long deliberation, they ultimately decided to turn Sam in to the authorities. Sam refused, running from her grandparents’ home out of fear. However, Sam’s inherent recklessness kept getting her into trouble. She would abuse her power to try to steal from stores in order to survive on the streets of Seoul. For several months, Sam got along nicely in Seoul. However, her luck eventually ran out, and a shopkeeper noticed that he was being robbed. Sam managed to escape, but the security footage didn’t lie. The shopkeeper alerted the government right away. As soon as the guns started to be waved at Sam, she surrendered. She was held in isolation for several days while the Korean officials decided what to do with her. Ultimately, she was handed over to the US government and given to MetaOps. For her first year at MetaOps, much of her time was devoted to strengthening her powers and learning their limits, as well as extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. Sam found that she was a quick learner in hand-to-hand and quickly excelled. She’s no expert, but she’s pretty damn good at it. After that first year, Witch was deemed ready to go out into the field, and has since spent a year operating for MetaOps. Personality: Sam’s primary trait is that she is absolutely curious about everything. If she doesn’t know something to a satisfactory degree, Sam will question anyone she can until she does. However, her curiosity comes with a downside. Her inquisitive nature often leads to strong cynicism, so she finds herself questioning people’s motives more often than she’d like to admit to. Not to say that Sam is an absolute cynic. She still considers herself fortunate that MetaOps picked her up from the Korean government and that she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life in a prison or lab somewhere, and Sam keeps that in mind at all times. She has utmost respect for authority within MetaOps and has fierce loyalty to the division. For the most part, Sam thinks in a procedural, rational manner, but it doesn’t take much for her to lose her cool. She’s young, she’s reckless, and MetaOps often finds itself having to clean up after her or reprimand her actions or rein her in. Appearance: Sam is small and unseeming, standing at only 5’4, but the nature of her power requires her to stay in excellent physical condition. She’s short, but she’s tough, and has a strong, muscular body to make up for her size. As for her other features, Sam has bleached and dyed her naturally black hair into a beach blonde color, wearing it in a medium-length ponytail. She wears thick frame glasses over her dark brown eyes which she replaces with contacts when she is sent on a mission. Speaking of which, her mission attire is a completely black, full-body jumpsuit, with pockets scattered over her legs in various sizes to carry a multitude of things. In addition to this, Sam wears military-grade combat boots and gloves and is more often than not found wearing a different kind of hat on her head. thank you for this image! Sam in her suit (minus the goggles) (the idea for Sam’s power was most definitely inspired by both Chronicle and Elfen Lied. in fact, I might as well have taken a carbon copy from both of them and placed it here, so you could most definitely refer to those if you want a clearer picture of Sam’s power!)
56,167	1,537	25	1,884	334	Chimera flew across the room, slamming into the wall and causing it to crack slightly. Fortunately, he could recover from a blow like that, but unfortunately he was most certainly dazed. He had known it was only a short term distraction for the Immortal, but he hadn't exactly expected it to be that short termed. Obviously bull rushing someone that fast was a bad idea in foresight, but he knew that at least on a physical plane, he needed to at least absorb the Immortals blows while they actually discovered how to defeat him. Slowly standing up and shaking his massive head, Chimera slowly began to creep forwards, hoping his team would back him up. If anyone could help him at this point, it was probably Revel since the meta seemed to be focused completely on him. Hopefully Revel understood. Drake was going for a second bout, this time from behind, and would coordinate something behind that. Or at least maybe he'd give Drake other directions besides just 'sneak up behind the man', which seemed to be his best course of action at the moment.	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,168	1,537	26	1,404	5,009	Alexander Ziker - MicWiz Things weren't going the way Alex expected, the guys was practically eating the tanks shells. How they were supposed to kill this guy without pushing him into a black hole was beyond Alex. No wonder the SWAT and police had not chance, they were fighting a sayian in golden diapers. It seemed that the Revels plan was working though, the monster was slowly taking his focus off the reactor, and towards them, which was good and bad at the same time. "Look away!" a voice rang, before Alex had a chance to turn to see who it was, a flash of bright light forced him to close his eyes. "I...see the light." He mumbled, but the explosion quickly died down, but the Immortal was stunned for a few seconds. He barley noticed the Chimera's command to cover him, by the time he looked back, the kid he once knew was a giant four legged, muscular, winged...beast. Alex immediately looked away, that was not a pretty sight to see. Before Alex could fire again, Chimera was already up and away, attacking the Immortal, but his attack was quickly cut short, with the grabbing of his neck, and chucking of his body. The Immortal then focused on Alex, which again was not the most pleasant of thoughts. The threat was much more than what a school bully would say, this was a serious, "Your life is over" type thing. Suddenly, Revel entangled him in some whips that electrocuted him, but the Immortal quickly escaped. Alex was half listening to Revel's plan, and half focused on the ever closing Immortal. Alex nodded, move forward, not backwards, easy enough. The big guy came at him and the tanks treads went into overdrive, quickly getting Alex out of harms way. Suddenly, the Immortal was entangled in a web of wires, and his attention know directed to Revel, which was relieve to him, but bad for Revel. Alex noticed Chimera trying to sneak up behind the Immortal. It was not the best of ideas, but it was one. In an attempt to support Chimera, Alex dispelled his tank. Once his feet were now planted to the ground, he raised his wand once again, and repeated the same process he did anytime he was constructing something. This time, what formed in front of Alex was a giant, pink golem completely made out of solidified pink energy. It began to circle around to were Revel was standing, it's lifeless eyes stared at the Immortal, it stood at a whooping 9 feet. Alex had no real fighting ability on his own, but his constructs, and his imagination were all he needed.	Code Name: MicWiz Real Name: Alexander Ziker Age: 24 Nationality: Caucasian Powers: Energy Constructs Alex can create tools, weapons and other objects from Energy. He can create any can imagine but has to have a good idea how it functions. His constricts can be broken if the amount of force that is applied is greater than the amount the user's imagination can produce. Alexander can use this ability through a wand with a glowing, pink colored, diamonds shaped object on the top. His energy constructs are all colored neon pink. Origins: Alex grew up in a fairly normal environment. Despite having to raise a child as a single parent, his mother still did her best to give her child what he wanted. There was never a shortage of fun when it came to spending fun with his mother. Alex never knew his father, and truly never cared to ask about him. His mother did all she could to be a mother and a father to her son. She had the privilege of having a well paying job a computer programmer, giving her the opportunity to work at home, and spend time with her child. Alex was never a straight A student, but he did what he could in school. Alex was fortunate enough to get into a good collage. Unfortunately, Alex struggled with school, stress angered him, but he hid it with humor. To make things worse, his mother was starting to have health problems. Alex was slowly getting depressed, and for the first time in his life he wished he had a father. The was the lowest point in his life, once he hit his Jr. Year, Alex barely went to school anymore. His mother could not do anything to help her son, since she had a hard time even helping herself. This was the time when hour begin to develop his powers. Alex retreated to his imagination during this time, hopping to escape from the world around him, maybe to unwind. When what he thought up came into existence, he was astonished, disappointed that it was pink, but was amazed. He showed his mother this power, but when she saw it, she was not amazed, instead, she was horrified. She contacted the authorities and he was taken into custody. Alex was soon handed over to MetaOps, since then he has been trained to control his ability. Learn how it works, widen and make more use of his imagination, he will soon be ready to be sent out. Unfortunately, Alex still has mixed feelings about his mother. Personality: Alex is easygoing, upbeat, energetic, funny, flirty and loves to tell jokes, even if they aren't funny. Alex is genuinely very intelligent and honest, and cares about his friends and family. He sometimes doesn't think before reacting and he enjoys pulling pranks on people, especially those who he doesn't like. Despite his jokey attitude, Alex has been shown to have a serious side, which happens when he is angered by someone or when the situation calls for it.
56,169	1,537	27	1,854	4,756	Gloria - Specter Gloria was the last to be transported to the site. Mostly because she stalled in the Armory. Gloria didn't really have any reason she'd want to do this. Sure this Immortal guy had to be pretty bad but the reactor he was targeting was relatively isolated. If his intention had been to cause mass carnage there were other easier ways and even other nuclear reactors closer to populated centers. The death count from an overload would be minimal, in fact from what Gloria had seen on the news tapes most of the facility's crew had already been evacuated. However Gloria knew that if she tried to skip out on a mission she'd find herself back in prison before the battle was through. Sighing Gloria strapped on a weapons belt, she didn't like guns. To destructive and... inelegant, instead she took a number of stun grenades as well as a couple of the explosive variety. She strapped two combat knives to her hips and one to her hand before making her way to the control room where she was transported into the heart of the battle. Gloria couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes behind the others but already the main floor of the plant, far too close to the reactor was in chaos. They seemed to be fighting a losing battle. Chimera looked the worse for wear, McWizz was standing behind a 9 foot... pink golem and the Immortal was bearing down on Revel. They didn't have much time left. From the state of things it was clear that the Immortal would sweep them aside, whether it took him ten minutes or an hour. Everything they'd done so far seemed at its greatest capacity, yet the Immortal was unfazed and perhaps even... bored. They were nothing more than an annoyance to him. Like flees on a dogs back. None of them could hope to keep this up. Yet Gloria couldn't stand by and do nothing. When she had been in the armory it had simply been a matter of probability of success vs the collateral damage of failure, now that she was here however it was Gloria's life on the line. Crosscut couldn't transport them all out of harms way at the same time and when he finally realized that they couldn't win this it would be too late for him to save more than maybe one of them. Gloria wasn't taking chances on being that one. Their only option was to defeat the Immortal if they wanted to survive and Gloria knew damn well that she wasn't going to die in a power plant in the middle of god knows were surrounded by people she barely knew. On the streets Gloria had learned how to fight, it was never fair and it was never sportsman like but it kept her alive, there was no reason why the same rules shouldn't apply here. With the Immortal's attention focused on Revel Gloria had her shot at an attack. Her powers weren't exactly combat oriented but that didn't change what she needed to do. Gloria started to run fast as she could, she was still in her own clothing having no time to change and her shoes were built for silence and speed. At the last second Gloria leaped into the air catching the Immortal on the back. She wrapped her legs around his chest and pulled herself up so her head was next to his. In a matter of seconds she detached the knives from her belt and bringing them round she stabbed both of them viciously into the Immortal's eyes.	Code Name: Specter Real Name: Gloria Lieth Age: 19 Nationality: American Power: Intangibility – Simply put Gloria has the ability to shift the rate at which her molecules vibrate in order to pass through solid matter. The biggest exception to this is electricity, attempting to phase through anything that carries a heavy electric charge will cause her a great amount of pain. If the charge is towards the lower end but still present she may still be able to push through, this kind of stress of her powers will leave behind something akin to a severe friction burn on any exposed skin that went through the process, effects on clothing may vary by circumstance. If Gloria tries to reform inside a solid object her body will attempt to expel the foreign material with varied degrees of success. If it is a small portion of her body inside a comparatively less dense material then the material will warp and shift to accommodate that body part however if it is most of her body inside something like stone then she will experience excruciating pain her molecules fuse with the stone in a permanent and fatal manor. Organic matter carries a discernable electric charge. This means that the same rules apply to Gloria moving through a person as they do moving through electricity. Compared to something like an electric fence the charge that humans or animals carry is relatively low so Gloria could move through someone however it would hurt quite a bit. Reforming inside something with an electric charge would be suicide, Gloria may succeed in reforming but the charge of the matter she is moving through would kill her. However Gloria has discovered that if she moves through something with a low level charge and alternates solid and not very quickly she is able to fry circuitry, such as security systems or computers. Passing through vegetation is not a problem as the charge it carries is almost unnoticeable compared to other living things. The denser a substance is the more difficult for Gloria to move through it. Something like class would be fairly easy but something like lead or osmium would be much more difficult and possibly even dangerous depending on how much of it she is phasing through. Origins: Gloria grew up in New York City. Her home was not exactly a stable one. Both her parents Peter and Rose, worked constantly, her mother was a lawyer and her father a doctor. This meant that both Gloria and her little sister Cassandra lived well but there’s more to life than that. Because of their occupations neither of Gloria’s parents were home consistently and when they were home Gloria was not there favorite person. They saw Gloria as a deviant, unwilling or worse unable to fulfil their vision of what a daughter should be. On the best days they ignored her but on many of the less pleasant ones Gloria and her parents would get into violently loud arguments. Because of this Gloria stayed out quite often when she knew her parents might be home. She spent most of her time at pool halls or twenty four hour coffee shops. It wasn’t really a secret that Cassandra was Peter and Rose’s favorite but Gloria didn’t resent her sister for it. If you met Cassandra you’d know it was hard to resent her for anything. Cassie as Gloria called her was almost as unstable as Gloria’s home life. She had been diagnosed with schizophrenia at a young age, her parents however couldn’t bear to have her institutionalized. Usually her delusions were pretty tame but every now and then she’d have a serious fit. Peter and Rose didn’t see many of these, they were too busy working. To them Cassandra was there perfect daughter, they weren’t capable of seeing how seriously she needed help. Gloria didn’t like spending time at home, it contained very few pleasant memories for her but at times when she knew her parents were working she would stay none the less to keep her little sister calm. When Gloria was out she gave Cassie a cellphone, if anything scared or frightened her, or anything happened that Cassie couldn’t explain she was to call right away. The development of Gloria’s meta-gene when she was fourteen was the beginning of the end. At first her parents didn’t notice but Gloria’s control over her ability was spotty, she’d phase partway through things at the randomest times and soon enough it happened in public. Once a month Gloria, Rose Peter and Cassie all sat down for a family dinner. This family time once a month was hell for Gloria but Cassie five years younger than her sister seemed to love having everyone together, she didn’t see the tension between her parents and her older sister. For this reason when this time rolled around Gloria tried to be as pleasant as she could, to be the person that Peter and Rose wanted despite the fact that it was not who she was. Gloria helped her mother with dinner that night trying so hard to make this special for her sister. When she was taking the plates to the dining room table Gloria tripped on a piece of loose carpet and went careening towards the table plates flying everywhere. Some sort of instinct activated in Gloria then, a primal sense of self protection cause her power to activate that moment. It save her head from smashing into the fine oak but it doomed her in her parent’s eyes. Gloria passed straight through the table top with her entire family there to witness. At the best of time Peter and Rose were not tolerant people but finding out that there child was a mutant was the final straw for them. They removed her from school, couldn’t have that happening in public, what would the neighbors think? Then they forbid her to leave the house. Of course Gloria was happy to stay when both her parents were out if only to keep an eye on her little sister. At that point in her life the only reason that Gloria didn’t run away from home was because Cassie. The little girl need Gloria now more than ever. Cassie had always had an over active imagination which often enough fueled her delusions. Ever since she’d seen what Gloria could do her schizophrenia had incorporated it into her own personal reality. She’d become convinced that she also was a meta-human. That might have been okay if she thought she had telekinesis or pyrokinesis or energy manipulation or telepathy or anything else. Except Cassie didn’t dream up an ability like that. One that couldn’t hurt her. Cassie had started to believe that she could fly. At the beginning it was almost funny, seeing the eleven year old jumping off tables and chairs and laughing when she hit the ground. Two years after Gloria first discovered her powers when she was sixteen things turned dangerous. Gloria came home one day to find Cassandra standing on the railing of the back deck, fifteen feet off the ground. “I’m gonna do it this time sis.” She shouted with a smile on her face, before Gloria could do anything Cassandra leapt from the railing. She broke both of her legs and fractured her collarbone. Gloria called 911, when Peter and Rose got home they wouldn’t believe that there dear sweet innocent Cassie had actually jumped off a fifteen foot deck. The real answer seemed obvious, Gloria had pushed her sister off the deck out of jealously. No matter how many times Gloria told them what happened they refused to believe it. It was only Cassandra’s insistence that Gloria had gotten home after the fall that kept her from ending up in Juvi. Three months later after Cassie’s bones had healed Gloria’s relationship with her parents had deteriorated further, to the point where Gloria couldn’t be in the same room with them without an argument starting. That fateful night Gloria stormed out of the house not wanted to be there when Peter and Rose returned. She went down to the pool halls were she wasn’t too bad at hustle guys out of there cash. That night Gloria got a phone call in that special phone she’d reserved for her sister. She picked up with haste leaving a game mid play and forfeiting her bet. “Cassie what’s wrong?” “There’s something in the attic with me sis. I’m scared, but one of the windows in the attic is open. I’m gonna fly away from it. I’m going to be alright.” Gloria’s heart nearly stopped, she began to run for home as fast as her legs would carry her as she tried to talk her sister down. “Cassie don’t do this. Whatever’s in the attic with you isn’t scary enough to waste your powers on it, your powers are special. They should be used for special things.” Gloria had learned that directly opposing Cassie’s delusions was a mistake. Her little sister would get irritable and angry and Gloria couldn’t calm her down. “Its big sis, it’s got horns.” “Cassie I’m almost at the house, don’t do anything till I get there.” “It’s coming for my Glory. I have to fly. I have too.” Gloria rounded the corner to the street her house was on. She shoved open the gate with enough force to smash it into the fence beside. Gloria ran up the walk just in time to hear her sister’s scream and see her body hit the ground. In shock Gloria gathered her little sister in her arms, she wasn’t even twelve yet and she seemed so small all broken. She tried to smile and Gloria could see blood coating her teeth. “It didn’t get me sis, I flew. Did you see?” Gloria smiled tears streaming down her eyes. “I saw, my little angel, you flew. It was beautiful.” The smile on Cassandra’s face was so innocent it broke Gloria’s heart. “I… I have to go somewhere else now don’t I?” Gloria couldn’t answer. How did you respond to a dying girls last words? Cassie reached up a hand and touched Gloria’s chest right below her collarbone. “Don’t worry sis, I’ll always be there for you. Right there.” She said pocking Gloria’s chest, smearing blood on her tank top. That was how Peter and Rose found the two of them three house later. Cassandra’s broken body being cradled by a despondent Gloria who was still crying and holding Cassie in her arms. “My god Gloria, what did you do?” said Peter looking on the scene with horror. This snapped Gloria out of whatever state she’d been existing in before. Her pain and anguish quickly turning to anger. “You can’t possibly think… I’m your daughter, her sister. I would never… but then what do you know about me? What do you know about either of us? Maybe if you’d bothered to come home every once in a while you might have been able to stop her from jumping.” “Jumping?” said Rose in shock. “You can’t possibly think we’d believe this was self-inflicted? Our daughter would never commit suicide.” “Mom! You’re daughter was schizophrenic, she needed help. Help you weren’t willing to admit might be necessary. Her blood in on your hands.” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “No actually I think it’s on your hands.” he said gesturing down Gloria’s hands which were indeed stained wither her sisters blood. “Rose call the police.” Gloria watched in horror as her mother pulled out a cellphone. “Police, I’d like to report a murder. My daughter is dead, yes I know who did it. She’s still here. Get here as quick as possible I don’t think we can hold her for long.” Gloria looked between her parents and realized two very important things, they’d never really loved her, and they were determined to see her jailed for Cassandra’s death. Gloria started to run. “No you don’t.” shouted Peter moving to intercept. Gloria didn’t stop she just kept running and as she approached her father her both moved through his. Pain crackled through her limbs that Gloria didn’t fully understand but shock, horror, and grief dulled its edge so that she barely felt it. Gloria didn’t stop running till she was ten blocks from her house. She used the little money she had on her to buy new, clean clothing and she wiped the blood from her skin. This began Gloria’s life on the streets. It took six months before the police gave up on finding her. Of course officially her file was still open and she was still wanted but after that amount of time no one expected her to be found. She stayed in New York, using her gift to steal what she needed. A neat trick she discovered was that if she made her stomach intangible she could store shoplifted items in it for several minutes before she started to feel like she was choking. Gloria did what she had to, to survive. Six months ago her jobs finally caught up with her. She was hired by a local fence to steal a diamond ring from a safety deposit body. It was a trap set by MetaOps. They’d gotten winds of her exploits, the vault were the diamond was held had been retrofitted with an electrically charged grid in all of the walls, floor and ceiling which was activated once she was inside. After that they used insulated cuffs that were wired to transport her to a holding facility. Her choices were simple, join the MetaOps project or spent the next two to five years in jail for the various crimes she’d committed to get by. Personality: Gloria has a prominent wild streak to her and enjoyed partying, drinking, and having sex. Often enough she’ll use a guy and dump him without forming any sort of emotional ties. She can also be careless and irresponsible, Gloria treats serious matters more lightly than she probably should. She is generally carefree and laid-back, causing her to view people who take matters serious as being wound too tight. Gloria doesn’t really want to be in any sort of leadership position on the team because of a deep seated fear that her mistakes could cost them a lot just like with her sister. She explains this reluctance to take command of a situation by nonchalantly saying it’s too much of a hassle. When she wants to be Gloria can be both forceful and persuasive, she could be a decent leader given the chance. Gloria frequently proved herself to be impulsive. She is known for her quick, easily irritated nature, something her father described as the "Lieth temper". Gloria has deep issues with parental figures, due to being raised by neglectful, absent parents while she was young. Nonetheless, she has a deep yearning for a family. She has many trust issues, always fearing that she will be betrayed or hurt if she lets someone in. Often enough she is incapable of understanding why someone would show kindness with nothing to gain for themselves. She is always suspicious of people who take an interest in her. Gloria shows hostility to those she doesn't trust or doesn't know but on the one hand, she would display extreme loyalty to those who were close to her and cared for her, yet that hasn’t happened since her sister died. Appearance:
56,170	1,537	28	1,449	5,936	Major Stone watched how the team started to prepare for their first mission. It was his job to teach all those individuals the skills necessary to be a good field agent. He knew more than anyone that it takes much more than just your superpower to be a MetaOps member. Some of the strike team might pack some serious punch but almost everyone was new to the organization and lacking in both training and experience. Not to mention that they have never worked together. In Major Stone's book, the team was not ready to go on a mission. Especially not on a mission that involves fighting the Immortal. The Major walked into the operations command center and saluted to the Director. "Carnage reporting for duty, sir. I see you've already send out the new strike team on their first mission. Maybe that's a bit prematurely but at least we'll get to see The Immortal squat some bugs." Spoke Carnage as he looked at the screen that was displaying security cam footage from the nuclear power plant. On the various screens major Stone could follow the operation through all the security cams in the power plant. Just by watching he could get a good grasp of how every single agent was performing in the field. Just by the looks of it, the team was utterly disappointing in his book. Not only where they weak, their effort lacked coordination, planning and communication. None of the agents seem to have much of a clue on how to combat The Immortal as a team. Revel tried to use his brain but his knowledge of both the Immortal as his own team seemed to limited at the moment to come up with a plan that works. Carnage sat down in one of the seats at the operations room and started to organize his personal displays. Making sure that he had always a good view on any of the Strike team's members. As he continued to watch the battle Carnage quickly noticed that The Immortal was holding back. He had the opportunity to finish The Chimera off but he did not do it. The Immortal seemed bend on not killing anyone and yet he wanted to cause a nuclear meltdown. A rather suicidal act, even for the Immortal. Even though The Immortal was holding back, there seemed little chance for the team to win. MicWiz attacks where useless, The Chimera way to weak, grenades did not hurt The Immortal at all and Revels next plan failed. It looked rather hopeless for the team to the point that the Major even wondered if there would be anyone to train left after this mission. That was until he watched how Gloria stabbed two knifes into the eyes of the gold and blue wearing villain. Vincent Stone could not help but to smile. Such viciousness, dirtiness and decisiveness where all traits the former field agent could appreciate. "Look at that, that's the way i'd like to see how our operatives fight, sir." Spoke Carnage as he turned towards the commander. "At least one of the recruits shows some promise. The rest seems to lack...murderous intend"	Code Name: Revel Real Name: Mòric Syg Age: 29 Gender: Male Nationality: Hungarian Powers: The only superpower Revel has is a limited form of precognition. Though he can't see the future, technically, Revel simply knows it. Knowledge from the future simply manifests in his brain, like a hidden memory suddenly provoked. Revel is able to identify that said information is from the future, as well as from how far forward it came. The longest he's ever been able to know something before its occurrence is two hours. After developing this power for a while, Revel realized that this knowledge comes from futures that can be, not futures that are, and grew to be able to figure out the consequences of certain actions before performing them. Revel wields two bracers that each contain lengths of cord. In response to certain nerve impulses, the cords can be extended, retracted, or electrified. This is not a power; merely a weapon. Origins/History: Though he was born in Hungary, Mòric's parents had no intention of keeping him there. The road to the United States was a hard one, but in the end the little family departed for the new world. They had heard tales of a land of opportunity, where even the poorest men could become legendary through the strength of their will and the work of their hands, but after arriving they found another side to the story altogether. Nowadays Revel remembers little, particularly the circumstances leading up to the defining event of his youth, but he keenly recalls the stinging abandonment. Though Revel inwardly suspects they couldn't take properly take care of him or provide for him, an acknowledged possibility is that they simply didn't want him after all. Luck smiled upon the fair-haired dark child, however, and a traveling carnival of dubious repute took him in. A childhood spent among such a wacky assembly greatly influenced his character; Revel learned hierarchy, trickery, theatricality, deception, and how to manipulate. As a teenager he served as the ringmaster, the youngest to date, introducing and playing a part with incredible feats to keep the crowd enthralled and its money in hand. In his spare time, he attended several schools as the circus traveled, getting expelled from one after another but never giving up his quest for knowledge. Revel's own psyche, already decidedly misaligned, continued down its skewed path. His ambitions and intellect reached far, far beyond entertainment. It was during this time that he realized he had supernatural ability to see a short way into the future, and without either questioning or hesitation he accepted his gift and put it to use. Years later, a new boss took over the carnival, despite the rumors of abductions and experimentation. Willow, daughter of a recent immigrant to the United States from Vietnam and a self-made woman, was determined to set the despicable community to rights. Slowly, her enlightening, positive influence and vast intelligence permeated every carny of the lot save one: Revel. After weeks in seclusion, avoiding his boss while devouring company funds at an incredible rate, he emerged from his mobile laboratory bedecked in strange clothes and wielding sinister technology. He approached Willow at her desk and let loose a swarm of nanites upon her. The microscopic swarm of robots integrated themselves with the woman from head to toe, placing her squarely under Revel's influence. Revel's first triumph catalyzed a wave of terror as the entire carnival collapsed, all resources heading straight to the String Puller as he weaseled his way into infamy. Shortly thereafter Revel disappeared, and began in secret a cult using his precognitive abilities to gain followers. Guessing that he wasn't the only superpowered person in the world, Revel set about making armaments for himself and his followers, and endeavored to learn more about others like him. When Revel caught wind through an associate named Quaily that the MetaOps project and been formed and was combing the country for suitable recruits. With this in mind, Revel severed ties from his cult, making sure his past was well hidden, left his second-in-command in charge, and allowed himself to be captured by MetaOps operatives during a feigned robbery. When offered a chance for redemption by project administrators, he grudgingly conceded. Personality: Revel is slimy and secretive, with little to no morality limiting his ambitions and the meeting of his goals. He is outwardly charming but inwardly misogynistic and narcissistic. In fact he is incredibly sexist, enjoying having control over females in any aspect from their fear to their form. His ultimate passion is to control and contort, and he has a curiosity that has led him to experiment. The fact that he has created a cult with him as the head is a testament to his manipulative ability and charisma. Revel is the ultimate ringleader, the shadow and the plot behind the front lines, the cult leader playing chess with people. A knack for adapting to the situation at hand and learning from his failures make him particularly dangerous. In everyday circumstances, he is very capable of feigning ordinary emotion, and hides his...eccentricities. One thing he greatly enjoys is to guess what other people are going to say before they do so, and then be right. Appearance: Revel wears the same gear he wore during his feigned robbery, reasoning that it will 'remind of the past self he's trying to redeem'. He is slightly farsighted and speaks with a hint of a Hungarian accent.
56,171	1,537	29	1,884	334	Chimera watched the situation through observing eyes, crawling slowly back towards his team with care. He understood now that his force could not stop the Immortal even enough for a distraction, but that didn't stop him from hoping Revel had a plan, which he soon found was to be an answered prayer. He began to make a prediction, or at least pretend to make one... Revel was, at best, an average liar. Of course it was unfair for Drake to make that decision as he had the ability to almost literally smell lies off of someone when in this form; hopefully the Immortal didn't share such a trait with Drake. He began to think that Revel might actually have a chance of talking the enemy down, when out of nowhere a girl flew through the sky and landed on the Immortals back, plunging her thin blades right into his eyes. Drake only had two thoughts at the events which occurred before him: Idiots! and when Revel attacked his own partner, another thought Fucking moron!. There were two sides of Drakes here, one which caused him to want to protect people, and one which caused him to fear for his own safety, however in this case his protective side won out. More out of instinct than actual ration thought, the massive beast leapt through the air and landed just underneath the girl, belly side up so that she would at least have a soft landing as opposed to hitting the ground. Drake had no knowledge of this girls powers, for all he knew a fall like this would kill her, something not on the top of his list of things to happen today. The team was falling apart like stones, not because of the Immortals powers but because of every single one of their flaws. Alex wanted to act before thinking, much like Drake, however that would get them no where with someone of this power. Izzy was too afraid, and Michelle was almost useless. Revel was simply too arrogant to be of any help, maybe if he had the ability to share his plan they could stand a chance but something in the back of Drakes mind told him the man's ego was too large for him to be able to think objectively, and he would believe only his plan would work. And the girl now laying on his sizeable chest was more reckless than all of them combined. That left them with... what? Nothing. Not a team, just a bunch of people with all separate plans which might stand a chance of working: If they could all just agree on one, and there was little to know chance of that ever happening.	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,172	1,537	30	1,854	4,756	Gloria - Specter Before Gloria could see what kind of damage her attack had done to the Immortal she heard a shout, not of pain or fear as would be expected but of anger. "Stupid bitch!" Seconds later Gloria felt pain rip across her back as Revel's whips cut into her yanking her from the Immortal. He'd attacked her, Revel had attacked her, his whips yanked her from her station on the Immortal's back. She expected to hit hard unforgiving earth but as she landed Gloria felt something soft and furry. Quickly she scrambled away to look at the thing that had helped her. It was some sort of beast, her best guess was Chimera in another form, he had shape shifting powers after all. "Thanks." she muttered. Now on her feet and in as good condition as could be expected Gloria probed the wound on her back with her fingers. One of the hooks was deeper than the other but both were relatively superficial, if they got out of this alive a couple of stitches and a few days bed rest would see her in peek condition again. With a murderous intent on her face Gloria turned on her powers, excluding the whips from her intangible molecules. They fell through her body and moment later Gloria touched there ends allowing them to join her field. Gloria ground the whip ends into the floor with her foot causing them not only to bend but also to sink into the concrete. Her work done Gloria released them causing the weapons to become trapped in the stone. What did Revel need weapons for after all, so far he'd been all but useless and proved that he couldn't even be trusted to allow his teammates to attack. This wasn't over, if they both survived this then there would be a serious reckoning brewing. Gloria had however gathered some important information from listening to Revel try to negotiate with the Immortal. The ancient meta-human was apparently suicidal. Something Gloria understood all too well. He was however unfortunate enough to also be immortal. This must be the only way he could think of to end his life. Because Gloria was feeling spiteful and more than a little rage she decided that as well as stomping Revel's whip into the ground, she'd do the same with his plan. "He has no idea." She started, her face set hard. Gloria didn't actually know the limits to Revel's power which he claimed was precognition but it didn't matter. Her story was far more believable then his. "His ability to see the future is limited. He couldn't tell you what'll happen in an hour or two. He can barely see minutes ahead, sometimes only seconds. He has no idea if you'll survive the explosion or not. He just wants to convince you not to do it cause he loves his own miserable carcass too much." She was fairly confident that Revel was bluffing, she'd gotten a good read on him, he was the kind of guy that loved to be in control. Not as a leader but to know that he had power over everyone else. One of the surest ways to show that would be to talk about his knowledge of future events yet at the briefing the only piece of future info he'd shared was that Michelle's water bottle would spill. If he'd had more he would have used it, no his power was limited so much so that he didn't know how this fight ended much less if the Immortal would die from the blast. Pushing Revel's whips into the ground had given Gloria a rather nasty idea. Something she'd only try in the most dire situation, then again that was were they were now. The team was falling apart. No coordination, each member thinking there plan would work over everyone else's or being too scared to enter the fray. Gloria took one of the grenades from her belt and pulled the pin. She could be almost certain from the amount of damage a bullet did that detonating a grenade would do little damage to the Immortal. That was if she set it off outside of him. Gloria was capable of releasing things inside objects she phased through. Gloria kept talking as she prepared her plan. "He can't know one way or the other how this will turn out. You may live, you may die. More than likely if you survive you'll have a painful recovery or all your suffering will be over. No one can tell for sure." As Gloria was saying this she raised the grenade in her hand and activated her ability around the explosive and her arm. With determination born of a desperate need to live Gloria pushed the grenade into the Immortal's chest. As she hand entered his body Gloria gave off a scream that could shatter glass. She'd phased through humans and animals before and it was always mildly painful but never ever like this. This was like trying to force her way through a electric grid, worse even. In seconds Gloria dropped the grenade and yanked her arm out from the Immortal. As it was exposed to air pain raced over the skin, like a burn forming. The pressure of reintegration would provide enough force to detonate the grenade, if it really blew the guy apart from the inside out Gloria wanted a safe distance. Chimera had saved her a serious back injury and though she didn't really like his attitude Gloria owed him. Grabbing the beast by the scruff of the neck with her uninjured arm Gloria dragged both of them behind a concrete support beam. There she waited for the explosion.	Code Name: Specter Real Name: Gloria Lieth Age: 19 Nationality: American Power: Intangibility – Simply put Gloria has the ability to shift the rate at which her molecules vibrate in order to pass through solid matter. The biggest exception to this is electricity, attempting to phase through anything that carries a heavy electric charge will cause her a great amount of pain. If the charge is towards the lower end but still present she may still be able to push through, this kind of stress of her powers will leave behind something akin to a severe friction burn on any exposed skin that went through the process, effects on clothing may vary by circumstance. If Gloria tries to reform inside a solid object her body will attempt to expel the foreign material with varied degrees of success. If it is a small portion of her body inside a comparatively less dense material then the material will warp and shift to accommodate that body part however if it is most of her body inside something like stone then she will experience excruciating pain her molecules fuse with the stone in a permanent and fatal manor. Organic matter carries a discernable electric charge. This means that the same rules apply to Gloria moving through a person as they do moving through electricity. Compared to something like an electric fence the charge that humans or animals carry is relatively low so Gloria could move through someone however it would hurt quite a bit. Reforming inside something with an electric charge would be suicide, Gloria may succeed in reforming but the charge of the matter she is moving through would kill her. However Gloria has discovered that if she moves through something with a low level charge and alternates solid and not very quickly she is able to fry circuitry, such as security systems or computers. Passing through vegetation is not a problem as the charge it carries is almost unnoticeable compared to other living things. The denser a substance is the more difficult for Gloria to move through it. Something like class would be fairly easy but something like lead or osmium would be much more difficult and possibly even dangerous depending on how much of it she is phasing through. Origins: Gloria grew up in New York City. Her home was not exactly a stable one. Both her parents Peter and Rose, worked constantly, her mother was a lawyer and her father a doctor. This meant that both Gloria and her little sister Cassandra lived well but there’s more to life than that. Because of their occupations neither of Gloria’s parents were home consistently and when they were home Gloria was not there favorite person. They saw Gloria as a deviant, unwilling or worse unable to fulfil their vision of what a daughter should be. On the best days they ignored her but on many of the less pleasant ones Gloria and her parents would get into violently loud arguments. Because of this Gloria stayed out quite often when she knew her parents might be home. She spent most of her time at pool halls or twenty four hour coffee shops. It wasn’t really a secret that Cassandra was Peter and Rose’s favorite but Gloria didn’t resent her sister for it. If you met Cassandra you’d know it was hard to resent her for anything. Cassie as Gloria called her was almost as unstable as Gloria’s home life. She had been diagnosed with schizophrenia at a young age, her parents however couldn’t bear to have her institutionalized. Usually her delusions were pretty tame but every now and then she’d have a serious fit. Peter and Rose didn’t see many of these, they were too busy working. To them Cassandra was there perfect daughter, they weren’t capable of seeing how seriously she needed help. Gloria didn’t like spending time at home, it contained very few pleasant memories for her but at times when she knew her parents were working she would stay none the less to keep her little sister calm. When Gloria was out she gave Cassie a cellphone, if anything scared or frightened her, or anything happened that Cassie couldn’t explain she was to call right away. The development of Gloria’s meta-gene when she was fourteen was the beginning of the end. At first her parents didn’t notice but Gloria’s control over her ability was spotty, she’d phase partway through things at the randomest times and soon enough it happened in public. Once a month Gloria, Rose Peter and Cassie all sat down for a family dinner. This family time once a month was hell for Gloria but Cassie five years younger than her sister seemed to love having everyone together, she didn’t see the tension between her parents and her older sister. For this reason when this time rolled around Gloria tried to be as pleasant as she could, to be the person that Peter and Rose wanted despite the fact that it was not who she was. Gloria helped her mother with dinner that night trying so hard to make this special for her sister. When she was taking the plates to the dining room table Gloria tripped on a piece of loose carpet and went careening towards the table plates flying everywhere. Some sort of instinct activated in Gloria then, a primal sense of self protection cause her power to activate that moment. It save her head from smashing into the fine oak but it doomed her in her parent’s eyes. Gloria passed straight through the table top with her entire family there to witness. At the best of time Peter and Rose were not tolerant people but finding out that there child was a mutant was the final straw for them. They removed her from school, couldn’t have that happening in public, what would the neighbors think? Then they forbid her to leave the house. Of course Gloria was happy to stay when both her parents were out if only to keep an eye on her little sister. At that point in her life the only reason that Gloria didn’t run away from home was because Cassie. The little girl need Gloria now more than ever. Cassie had always had an over active imagination which often enough fueled her delusions. Ever since she’d seen what Gloria could do her schizophrenia had incorporated it into her own personal reality. She’d become convinced that she also was a meta-human. That might have been okay if she thought she had telekinesis or pyrokinesis or energy manipulation or telepathy or anything else. Except Cassie didn’t dream up an ability like that. One that couldn’t hurt her. Cassie had started to believe that she could fly. At the beginning it was almost funny, seeing the eleven year old jumping off tables and chairs and laughing when she hit the ground. Two years after Gloria first discovered her powers when she was sixteen things turned dangerous. Gloria came home one day to find Cassandra standing on the railing of the back deck, fifteen feet off the ground. “I’m gonna do it this time sis.” She shouted with a smile on her face, before Gloria could do anything Cassandra leapt from the railing. She broke both of her legs and fractured her collarbone. Gloria called 911, when Peter and Rose got home they wouldn’t believe that there dear sweet innocent Cassie had actually jumped off a fifteen foot deck. The real answer seemed obvious, Gloria had pushed her sister off the deck out of jealously. No matter how many times Gloria told them what happened they refused to believe it. It was only Cassandra’s insistence that Gloria had gotten home after the fall that kept her from ending up in Juvi. Three months later after Cassie’s bones had healed Gloria’s relationship with her parents had deteriorated further, to the point where Gloria couldn’t be in the same room with them without an argument starting. That fateful night Gloria stormed out of the house not wanted to be there when Peter and Rose returned. She went down to the pool halls were she wasn’t too bad at hustle guys out of there cash. That night Gloria got a phone call in that special phone she’d reserved for her sister. She picked up with haste leaving a game mid play and forfeiting her bet. “Cassie what’s wrong?” “There’s something in the attic with me sis. I’m scared, but one of the windows in the attic is open. I’m gonna fly away from it. I’m going to be alright.” Gloria’s heart nearly stopped, she began to run for home as fast as her legs would carry her as she tried to talk her sister down. “Cassie don’t do this. Whatever’s in the attic with you isn’t scary enough to waste your powers on it, your powers are special. They should be used for special things.” Gloria had learned that directly opposing Cassie’s delusions was a mistake. Her little sister would get irritable and angry and Gloria couldn’t calm her down. “Its big sis, it’s got horns.” “Cassie I’m almost at the house, don’t do anything till I get there.” “It’s coming for my Glory. I have to fly. I have too.” Gloria rounded the corner to the street her house was on. She shoved open the gate with enough force to smash it into the fence beside. Gloria ran up the walk just in time to hear her sister’s scream and see her body hit the ground. In shock Gloria gathered her little sister in her arms, she wasn’t even twelve yet and she seemed so small all broken. She tried to smile and Gloria could see blood coating her teeth. “It didn’t get me sis, I flew. Did you see?” Gloria smiled tears streaming down her eyes. “I saw, my little angel, you flew. It was beautiful.” The smile on Cassandra’s face was so innocent it broke Gloria’s heart. “I… I have to go somewhere else now don’t I?” Gloria couldn’t answer. How did you respond to a dying girls last words? Cassie reached up a hand and touched Gloria’s chest right below her collarbone. “Don’t worry sis, I’ll always be there for you. Right there.” She said pocking Gloria’s chest, smearing blood on her tank top. That was how Peter and Rose found the two of them three house later. Cassandra’s broken body being cradled by a despondent Gloria who was still crying and holding Cassie in her arms. “My god Gloria, what did you do?” said Peter looking on the scene with horror. This snapped Gloria out of whatever state she’d been existing in before. Her pain and anguish quickly turning to anger. “You can’t possibly think… I’m your daughter, her sister. I would never… but then what do you know about me? What do you know about either of us? Maybe if you’d bothered to come home every once in a while you might have been able to stop her from jumping.” “Jumping?” said Rose in shock. “You can’t possibly think we’d believe this was self-inflicted? Our daughter would never commit suicide.” “Mom! You’re daughter was schizophrenic, she needed help. Help you weren’t willing to admit might be necessary. Her blood in on your hands.” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “No actually I think it’s on your hands.” he said gesturing down Gloria’s hands which were indeed stained wither her sisters blood. “Rose call the police.” Gloria watched in horror as her mother pulled out a cellphone. “Police, I’d like to report a murder. My daughter is dead, yes I know who did it. She’s still here. Get here as quick as possible I don’t think we can hold her for long.” Gloria looked between her parents and realized two very important things, they’d never really loved her, and they were determined to see her jailed for Cassandra’s death. Gloria started to run. “No you don’t.” shouted Peter moving to intercept. Gloria didn’t stop she just kept running and as she approached her father her both moved through his. Pain crackled through her limbs that Gloria didn’t fully understand but shock, horror, and grief dulled its edge so that she barely felt it. Gloria didn’t stop running till she was ten blocks from her house. She used the little money she had on her to buy new, clean clothing and she wiped the blood from her skin. This began Gloria’s life on the streets. It took six months before the police gave up on finding her. Of course officially her file was still open and she was still wanted but after that amount of time no one expected her to be found. She stayed in New York, using her gift to steal what she needed. A neat trick she discovered was that if she made her stomach intangible she could store shoplifted items in it for several minutes before she started to feel like she was choking. Gloria did what she had to, to survive. Six months ago her jobs finally caught up with her. She was hired by a local fence to steal a diamond ring from a safety deposit body. It was a trap set by MetaOps. They’d gotten winds of her exploits, the vault were the diamond was held had been retrofitted with an electrically charged grid in all of the walls, floor and ceiling which was activated once she was inside. After that they used insulated cuffs that were wired to transport her to a holding facility. Her choices were simple, join the MetaOps project or spent the next two to five years in jail for the various crimes she’d committed to get by. Personality: Gloria has a prominent wild streak to her and enjoyed partying, drinking, and having sex. Often enough she’ll use a guy and dump him without forming any sort of emotional ties. She can also be careless and irresponsible, Gloria treats serious matters more lightly than she probably should. She is generally carefree and laid-back, causing her to view people who take matters serious as being wound too tight. Gloria doesn’t really want to be in any sort of leadership position on the team because of a deep seated fear that her mistakes could cost them a lot just like with her sister. She explains this reluctance to take command of a situation by nonchalantly saying it’s too much of a hassle. When she wants to be Gloria can be both forceful and persuasive, she could be a decent leader given the chance. Gloria frequently proved herself to be impulsive. She is known for her quick, easily irritated nature, something her father described as the "Lieth temper". Gloria has deep issues with parental figures, due to being raised by neglectful, absent parents while she was young. Nonetheless, she has a deep yearning for a family. She has many trust issues, always fearing that she will be betrayed or hurt if she lets someone in. Often enough she is incapable of understanding why someone would show kindness with nothing to gain for themselves. She is always suspicious of people who take an interest in her. Gloria shows hostility to those she doesn't trust or doesn't know but on the one hand, she would display extreme loyalty to those who were close to her and cared for her, yet that hasn’t happened since her sister died. Appearance:
56,173	1,537	31	2,096	5,087	Appearing alongside Revel and Chimera when she teleported, she saw the Immortal in person for the first time. She trained her submachine gun on him, but did not fire. After all, bullets weren't going to serve much more than an annoyance. That was the problem with people like him, that tough skin made any assault she could do pointless. She would have to rely on her teammates to do any significant damage. As she watched the battle, she briefly wondered why the Immortal would come here. The nuclear reactor didn't seem to have any significant value, after all. Then came Revel's revelation about the Immortal trying to end his own life through the use of the reactor. Surprised, Michelle was momentarily stunned, then recovered from the shock. Those words made the mission to stop the Immortal even more imperative than before. But what could they do? Their attacks didn't seem to be damaging him in even the slightest. There were some rather daring attacks, like Gloria's, though, although it was interrupted by Revel. Her train of thought ruined, Michelle turned to Revel and said, "Then stop babbling and tell us! Quit wasting everyone's time!" She doubted the Immortal was more interested in his words than she was, and Revel's words were beginning to bore her. "What we need right now is a solution, not pretty words about ants and strength!" Then Gloria's words came spouting out of her mouth. Only then did Michelle actually at least respect the bluff Revel was using. Michelle began to speak, but quickly silenced herself. Anything she would say would perhaps make it worse.	Code Name: Widowmaker Real Name: Michelle Kine Age: 27 Gender: Female Nationality: American Powers: None. She is a normal human through and through. Instead, she has these talents: -Sharpshooter: Michelle is a master with virtually any firearm one could come up with. Pistols, sniper rifles, grenade launchers, you name it, she can use it. -Battle instincts: honed through a lifetime of fighting both normals and super humans, Michelle both reacts and recovers more quickly than most. -Fist fighting: Just because she uses firearms so much doesn't mean she doesn't know how to fight without one. Origins/History: Michelle grew up in a rough neighborhood. Gangs controlled the streets, and not even the police did anything about them; in fact, some were even bribed to keep their noses out of the conflict. As a result, little Michelle had to learn how to fend for herself. It certainly wasn't easy, especially since she was a girl. In time, though, she earned a reputation among the gangs so they knew not to bother her. Of course, things took a turn for the worse when she encountered a gang leader who was a super human. She fought hard, but she ultimately could not contend. Before she faced complete defeat, however, she was fortunate enough to have another super human interfere in the fight and save her. Michelle was too proud at first to express her thanks, but they eventually became good friends. When they grew up, they enlisted in the military. The two went through tough times, both in the field and at home, but they were inseparable. At least, until one day, when two were caught by surprise and Michelle's friend died in the firefight by another super human. Michelle had quickly killed the one who had done the deed, but it did little to ease the pain of the loss. Shortly after, Michelle was approached with the offer to join MetaOps, which Michelle accepted. Personality: Michelle has a hard look in her eyes, as if she had seen terrible things. She's also not the most chatty person either. However, the look can soften, and a kinder personality will show. In a fight, there's no one else you would have to stay by your side, and will stay by you if your death slowly approaches.
56,174	1,537	32	952	2,710	The Immortal continued hovering off the ground, waiting for an attack by Revel, completely ignoring MicWiz and his golem, Chimera's approach, and Widowmaker and Freyja's gawking. Instead, Revel began to speak. The Immortal listened to his words respectfully, and when he had finished, began to reply. "What you say could be true, but I feel that what I'm about to do is worth the r-" The Immortal was suddenly interrupted by a woman with knives. Her attack was useless as the knives simply bounced off, she would have had better luck puncturing a boulder with those weapons. He began to reach behind him to grab her, but she was pulled off by Revel instead. He watched with some amusement as the team members quarreled. The Immortal turned to leave the metas to their own devices, before Specter called to him. He turned back around to give her his full attention. The Immortal saw the grenade, ignoring it, thinking that her using it was a useless endeavor. Back at MetaOps HQ, The Director watched the battle on the screens in the Sat Room. "Your team isn't doing too well," he told Crosscut. Crosscut looked away from the door to the room, looked up toward the screens above, then toward The Director. "That's because you stuck me on transport duty, sir. I'm team leader, I should be there leading," he replied. The Director continued watching with a smirk on his face. He didn't actually care for the outcome of this battle. No matter which way it ended, he could spin it towards his favor. They lose, he could complain to his superiors that they hadn't given him enough funding to complete their objective. They win, another accommodation for a job well done. His mood changed suddenly as Specter raised the grenade in her hand. "Crosscut! We need The Immortal alive for interrogation! Stop her!" Crosscut immediately teleported next to Specter to prevent her from trying to kill The Immortal. "No! Stop!" he shouted, but it was too late, and her hand phased through The Immortal's chest. Crosscut teleported to cover and waited for the sound of an explosion. A muffled sound came instead. He looked back over the cement pillar he had been standing behind and saw The Immortal still very much alive. So not even that could stop him. "Damn it!" Crosscut said before teleporting back to the Sat Room. He then began making a mad dash through the facility's hallways finding anybody on the team he had not teleported to the nuclear plant yet and doing just that. There was no more time to let everyone be prepared. Once he teleported the last of the team there, Crosscut contacted The Director. "Sir? Orders?" A few seconds of silence passed before a reply came. "Kill order is given. We have reinforcements on the way, if you can't finish him soon enough." "Thank you, sir. Alright team, plans hasn't changed! Hit him!" Crosscut teleported to a piece of rebar and grabbed it, he immediately teleported it inside The Immortal. Seeing as how Specter's plan hadn't worked before, Crosscut wasn't surprised that impaling him would be as affective, but if he did it enough times it could slow him down. So, Crosscut began teleporting around the facility and reappearing with them inside The Immortal. Meanwhile, The Immortal just continued his destructive path towards the reactor.	Code Name: Witch Real Name: Samantha Choi Age: 24 Gender: Female Nationality: Korean-American Powers: Witch has telekinesis, similar to having an extra pair of long, strong, invisible arms. Limited to a range of twenty meters, the strength of her telekinesis is directly related to Witch’s physical strength and fatigue. The more in shape she is, the more weight she can carry. However, her telekinesis does not simply extend her reach; the weight she can carry through telekinesis versus how much she can normally carry is multiplied by a factor of ten. If Witch can lift up a one hundred pound object with her hands, she can lift a one thousand pound object through telekinesis. Other notes about her “arms”: Witch must be able to see what she is trying to carry. Her telekinesis can also be used to lift herself up, giving the impression she can fly or float. Finally, her “arms” are not only good for carrying things, but also smashing or tearing things. Again, they are like invisible arms, so anything a normal person could do with their arms, she can do with her extra ones. Origins/History: Samantha had a fairly privileged life prior to joining MetaOps. She attended college for a major in physics, but Sam still found enough free time to party almost every weekend (except for during midterms and finals. Nobody parties during midterms and finals). She didn’t get into any trouble during college, however, and graduated at 22 with a stellar GPA. After graduation, however, things got a little difficult. Sam had trouble finding a job, so she got on the next flight to Korean and stayed at her grandparents’ house in Seoul. It was in Seoul that Sam realized that she could pick things up from a distance, something she swore she couldn’t do beforehand. She began toying with her newfound power in the safety of her own home, slowly getting accustomed to using her extra arms. Sam began to piece together the details of her power; their effective distance, their strength, and how they related to her strength. It didn’t take long for her grandparents to find out she had telekinesis. After long deliberation, they ultimately decided to turn Sam in to the authorities. Sam refused, running from her grandparents’ home out of fear. However, Sam’s inherent recklessness kept getting her into trouble. She would abuse her power to try to steal from stores in order to survive on the streets of Seoul. For several months, Sam got along nicely in Seoul. However, her luck eventually ran out, and a shopkeeper noticed that he was being robbed. Sam managed to escape, but the security footage didn’t lie. The shopkeeper alerted the government right away. As soon as the guns started to be waved at Sam, she surrendered. She was held in isolation for several days while the Korean officials decided what to do with her. Ultimately, she was handed over to the US government and given to MetaOps. For her first year at MetaOps, much of her time was devoted to strengthening her powers and learning their limits, as well as extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. Sam found that she was a quick learner in hand-to-hand and quickly excelled. She’s no expert, but she’s pretty damn good at it. After that first year, Witch was deemed ready to go out into the field, and has since spent a year operating for MetaOps. Personality: Sam’s primary trait is that she is absolutely curious about everything. If she doesn’t know something to a satisfactory degree, Sam will question anyone she can until she does. However, her curiosity comes with a downside. Her inquisitive nature often leads to strong cynicism, so she finds herself questioning people’s motives more often than she’d like to admit to. Not to say that Sam is an absolute cynic. She still considers herself fortunate that MetaOps picked her up from the Korean government and that she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life in a prison or lab somewhere, and Sam keeps that in mind at all times. She has utmost respect for authority within MetaOps and has fierce loyalty to the division. For the most part, Sam thinks in a procedural, rational manner, but it doesn’t take much for her to lose her cool. She’s young, she’s reckless, and MetaOps often finds itself having to clean up after her or reprimand her actions or rein her in. Appearance: Sam is small and unseeming, standing at only 5’4, but the nature of her power requires her to stay in excellent physical condition. She’s short, but she’s tough, and has a strong, muscular body to make up for her size. As for her other features, Sam has bleached and dyed her naturally black hair into a beach blonde color, wearing it in a medium-length ponytail. She wears thick frame glasses over her dark brown eyes which she replaces with contacts when she is sent on a mission. Speaking of which, her mission attire is a completely black, full-body jumpsuit, with pockets scattered over her legs in various sizes to carry a multitude of things. In addition to this, Sam wears military-grade combat boots and gloves and is more often than not found wearing a different kind of hat on her head. thank you for this image! Sam in her suit (minus the goggles) (the idea for Sam’s power was most definitely inspired by both Chronicle and Elfen Lied. in fact, I might as well have taken a carbon copy from both of them and placed it here, so you could most definitely refer to those if you want a clearer picture of Sam’s power!)
56,175	1,537	33	1,449	5,936	Now thoroughly furious, Revel heaved against his trapped whips, causing them to snap unevenly. Their rather pitiful remains snaked back into his bracers, useless for the time being. Grinding his teeth, Revel spat, “I don't need my power to know what comes next is going to be utterly insipid.” He glanced at Michelle, unmotivated to explain himself now that, thanks to Gloria, his scheme lay in ashes. However, the omen of Spectre shrieking in agony cheered him up a bit. Adrenaline rushing through his veins made the seconds slip by like molasses, but he was stunned that the Immortal hadn't yet made a move. Why is she arguing against me, other than petty revenge? This twit needs to learn what it means to look at the big picture. He stepped back as he watched her jam the grenade into the Immortal's torso, taking minor pleasure in hearing her scream beyond the confines of his mind. “Deliberate sabotage,” he muttered, motioning for Michelle to accompany him in his retreat beyond the grenade's blast range. “I was planning to...oh, it doesn't matter now. The twat's grenade is only going to make him madder in the end. That's not a guess, either. How did she think this was going to play out? Invincible, unbounded strength, and motivation.” The sudden appearance of Crosscut, failing to prevent the ensuing explosion, did not improve his mood. Revel's ears hadn't quite finished ringing from the detonation before Crosscut belted out the new orders. “Looks like reasoning phase is done.” He stood back as the remainder of the team piled into the Immortal. Even if his weapons had been whole, their lashes would only have further pitted the other metas against him with their broad swathes. Additionally, with others present that could boast greater fighting ability, Revel didn't feel the need to electrify his gloves and charge in. Instead, he concentrated on rhythmic breathing, trying to attain the peace of mind through which clearest foresight could be had. A moment later, his eyes blinked open, though indiscernible beneath his goggles.. “The Immortal isn't going to pay anyone any attention. He's going to go straight for the reactor. I'm going to attempt to stall him with my whips, which means I have to replace him. Ultimately I won't be able to hold him, but two strangers will appear and ultimately prevail. Hm...Hopper and Stratos. Not ordinary members of the team. Very interesting.” As Revel spoke, he started to move, fleeing from the combat in the room and into the reactor chamber itself. As he did, he flicked open his bracers' and swapped out their reels for spares. It didn't take a tactical genius to bring extras when your main weapon was easily breakable. Unfortunately, this set wouldn't conduct electricity as well. Upon entering the reactor room, Revel strode to the balcony and whistled. The entire chamber hummed with an ethereal blue luminescence, More than a hundred feet down a spiraling crosswalk stair, behind a vast cylinder of glass, lay the reactor itself. Revel turned around and spent a moment figuring out how to close the room's door, left open by the evacuated plant personnel, though he knew it wouldn't stall the Immortal should he make it past the rest of his team. A vision flashed in his mind of Gloria talking to him, and he decided against shutting the door. Revel flicked out the knew whips, testing their speed, before winding one around the crosswalk's guard rail and leaping over.	Code Name: Revel Real Name: Mòric Syg Age: 29 Gender: Male Nationality: Hungarian Powers: The only superpower Revel has is a limited form of precognition. Though he can't see the future, technically, Revel simply knows it. Knowledge from the future simply manifests in his brain, like a hidden memory suddenly provoked. Revel is able to identify that said information is from the future, as well as from how far forward it came. The longest he's ever been able to know something before its occurrence is two hours. After developing this power for a while, Revel realized that this knowledge comes from futures that can be, not futures that are, and grew to be able to figure out the consequences of certain actions before performing them. Revel wields two bracers that each contain lengths of cord. In response to certain nerve impulses, the cords can be extended, retracted, or electrified. This is not a power; merely a weapon. Origins/History: Though he was born in Hungary, Mòric's parents had no intention of keeping him there. The road to the United States was a hard one, but in the end the little family departed for the new world. They had heard tales of a land of opportunity, where even the poorest men could become legendary through the strength of their will and the work of their hands, but after arriving they found another side to the story altogether. Nowadays Revel remembers little, particularly the circumstances leading up to the defining event of his youth, but he keenly recalls the stinging abandonment. Though Revel inwardly suspects they couldn't take properly take care of him or provide for him, an acknowledged possibility is that they simply didn't want him after all. Luck smiled upon the fair-haired dark child, however, and a traveling carnival of dubious repute took him in. A childhood spent among such a wacky assembly greatly influenced his character; Revel learned hierarchy, trickery, theatricality, deception, and how to manipulate. As a teenager he served as the ringmaster, the youngest to date, introducing and playing a part with incredible feats to keep the crowd enthralled and its money in hand. In his spare time, he attended several schools as the circus traveled, getting expelled from one after another but never giving up his quest for knowledge. Revel's own psyche, already decidedly misaligned, continued down its skewed path. His ambitions and intellect reached far, far beyond entertainment. It was during this time that he realized he had supernatural ability to see a short way into the future, and without either questioning or hesitation he accepted his gift and put it to use. Years later, a new boss took over the carnival, despite the rumors of abductions and experimentation. Willow, daughter of a recent immigrant to the United States from Vietnam and a self-made woman, was determined to set the despicable community to rights. Slowly, her enlightening, positive influence and vast intelligence permeated every carny of the lot save one: Revel. After weeks in seclusion, avoiding his boss while devouring company funds at an incredible rate, he emerged from his mobile laboratory bedecked in strange clothes and wielding sinister technology. He approached Willow at her desk and let loose a swarm of nanites upon her. The microscopic swarm of robots integrated themselves with the woman from head to toe, placing her squarely under Revel's influence. Revel's first triumph catalyzed a wave of terror as the entire carnival collapsed, all resources heading straight to the String Puller as he weaseled his way into infamy. Shortly thereafter Revel disappeared, and began in secret a cult using his precognitive abilities to gain followers. Guessing that he wasn't the only superpowered person in the world, Revel set about making armaments for himself and his followers, and endeavored to learn more about others like him. When Revel caught wind through an associate named Quaily that the MetaOps project and been formed and was combing the country for suitable recruits. With this in mind, Revel severed ties from his cult, making sure his past was well hidden, left his second-in-command in charge, and allowed himself to be captured by MetaOps operatives during a feigned robbery. When offered a chance for redemption by project administrators, he grudgingly conceded. Personality: Revel is slimy and secretive, with little to no morality limiting his ambitions and the meeting of his goals. He is outwardly charming but inwardly misogynistic and narcissistic. In fact he is incredibly sexist, enjoying having control over females in any aspect from their fear to their form. His ultimate passion is to control and contort, and he has a curiosity that has led him to experiment. The fact that he has created a cult with him as the head is a testament to his manipulative ability and charisma. Revel is the ultimate ringleader, the shadow and the plot behind the front lines, the cult leader playing chess with people. A knack for adapting to the situation at hand and learning from his failures make him particularly dangerous. In everyday circumstances, he is very capable of feigning ordinary emotion, and hides his...eccentricities. One thing he greatly enjoys is to guess what other people are going to say before they do so, and then be right. Appearance: Revel wears the same gear he wore during his feigned robbery, reasoning that it will 'remind of the past self he's trying to redeem'. He is slightly farsighted and speaks with a hint of a Hungarian accent.
56,176	1,537	34	1,404	5,009	Alexander Ziker - MicWiz Shit hit the fan real quick this time. Alex's golems was basically a chew toy for the Immortal, his strength beyond his constructs capabilities. The truth of the situation frustrated him, he was talking about the uselessness of others, and yet what were his abilities compared to the others. He had to remember to apologize to his fellow comrades after this was over, but as of now, he would have to start imagining again. Alex constructed another golem, giving this one armor, a shied, but best of all, a blade of pure energy, not solidified. He gave this all to to the other golem, this took a lot of energy out of Alex, but he was still alert and could run, but as long as these were out, he would be hindered a bit. Alex was planning to have his golems attack, but he noticed Revel was...talking to the Immortal. Alex could not hear what he was saying, but he would not dare interrupt. Despite Alexs' own resolve, Gloria did not, she attacked, attempting to stab him in the eyes with her knife. Unfortunately, that would prove impossible, her knives broke instantly. Revel grabbed her and began to yell and scream in her face, he could not blame him. Even Crosscut appeared in an attempt to stop her. Then Michelle came, an argument was slowly forming between them. This would be a problem, the Immortal would be annoyed, and loose interest. Revel's plan may have worked, but there could have been another way to kill himself. "Think, think." Alex mumbled to himself, at this rate, they would kill everyone in the state of Florida. Crosscut appeared once again and gave them the order to kill, which would prove extremely difficult. Suddenly, things were appearing inside the Immortal, it was Crosscut, that plan may havd worked. An idea formed in his head hopefully this would work. Alex dispelled his golems, and with new found energy he created a pink dart. On the inside was liquefied energy, his plan was to imbued this into the objects that were jutting from the Immortals body. Alex was gonna use his intelligence on this one, by injecting energy into the steal beam, he would make the atom unstable. In an attempt to reach a stable state, it will give off more energy, known as quanta, making it radioactive, and in turn making Immortal radioactive. Alex was not sure if giving the Immortal radiation poisoning would kill him, but it was worth a try. The radioactive atoms would rip through his body, then would infect the rest of his body, destroying the rest of his bodily functions. Alex took and deep breath and fired at the steel beam in his stomach.	Code Name: MicWiz Real Name: Alexander Ziker Age: 24 Nationality: Caucasian Powers: Energy Constructs Alex can create tools, weapons and other objects from Energy. He can create any can imagine but has to have a good idea how it functions. His constricts can be broken if the amount of force that is applied is greater than the amount the user's imagination can produce. Alexander can use this ability through a wand with a glowing, pink colored, diamonds shaped object on the top. His energy constructs are all colored neon pink. Origins: Alex grew up in a fairly normal environment. Despite having to raise a child as a single parent, his mother still did her best to give her child what he wanted. There was never a shortage of fun when it came to spending fun with his mother. Alex never knew his father, and truly never cared to ask about him. His mother did all she could to be a mother and a father to her son. She had the privilege of having a well paying job a computer programmer, giving her the opportunity to work at home, and spend time with her child. Alex was never a straight A student, but he did what he could in school. Alex was fortunate enough to get into a good collage. Unfortunately, Alex struggled with school, stress angered him, but he hid it with humor. To make things worse, his mother was starting to have health problems. Alex was slowly getting depressed, and for the first time in his life he wished he had a father. The was the lowest point in his life, once he hit his Jr. Year, Alex barely went to school anymore. His mother could not do anything to help her son, since she had a hard time even helping herself. This was the time when hour begin to develop his powers. Alex retreated to his imagination during this time, hopping to escape from the world around him, maybe to unwind. When what he thought up came into existence, he was astonished, disappointed that it was pink, but was amazed. He showed his mother this power, but when she saw it, she was not amazed, instead, she was horrified. She contacted the authorities and he was taken into custody. Alex was soon handed over to MetaOps, since then he has been trained to control his ability. Learn how it works, widen and make more use of his imagination, he will soon be ready to be sent out. Unfortunately, Alex still has mixed feelings about his mother. Personality: Alex is easygoing, upbeat, energetic, funny, flirty and loves to tell jokes, even if they aren't funny. Alex is genuinely very intelligent and honest, and cares about his friends and family. He sometimes doesn't think before reacting and he enjoys pulling pranks on people, especially those who he doesn't like. Despite his jokey attitude, Alex has been shown to have a serious side, which happens when he is angered by someone or when the situation calls for it.
56,177	1,537	35	952	2,710	The Immortal's body was now covered in concrete, rebar, and other materials from Crosscut's attacks, but it only seemed to slow him down and not stop him. The Immortal was done with the fools around him, all they seemed to do was increase his suffering. The Immortal was ignorant enough that he did not notice MicWiz's newest construct. The radiation began to spread throughout The Immortal's body, bringing him immense pain, but not killing him. "Ahh! I have had enough of your pink shit! Get over here!" He screamed as he flew towards his attacker. The closer he got to MicWiz though, the slower he seemed to be. "What... is... this?" he said as he slowly turned his head as if he was resisting against an invisible force. Which he was. Witch stood not too far off, trying to use her telekinesis to keep The Immortal away from MicWiz. "Move out of the way, MicWiz!" she shouted. "Don't know how much longer I can hold him." "You can't." The Immortal replied ominously. The Immortal then began grabbing several pieces of rebar and pulling them out of his body. "I've had enough of you all. If you won't let me complete my goal, then you leave me no choice." The Immortal used his strength to throw the rebar at Witch. Instinctively, she began using her powers to stop the incoming steel bars. They all stopped only a few feet from her, but in her haste to stop the attack, she had forgotten the one who had thrown them. The Immortal zoomed towards her while she was distracted and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground. "You brought this on yourselves," he said before slightly moving his thumb and snapping her neck with his immense strength. The Immortal dropped the body of the now lifeless woman and continued making his way to the reactor, forgetting MicWiz, his original target. Crosscut looked on hopelessly. It had been years since he had last lost a teammate in the field, but there had been nothing he could have done to save Witch. Crosscut only hoped that someone could do something to turn this battle around.	Code Name: Witch Real Name: Samantha Choi Age: 24 Gender: Female Nationality: Korean-American Powers: Witch has telekinesis, similar to having an extra pair of long, strong, invisible arms. Limited to a range of twenty meters, the strength of her telekinesis is directly related to Witch’s physical strength and fatigue. The more in shape she is, the more weight she can carry. However, her telekinesis does not simply extend her reach; the weight she can carry through telekinesis versus how much she can normally carry is multiplied by a factor of ten. If Witch can lift up a one hundred pound object with her hands, she can lift a one thousand pound object through telekinesis. Other notes about her “arms”: Witch must be able to see what she is trying to carry. Her telekinesis can also be used to lift herself up, giving the impression she can fly or float. Finally, her “arms” are not only good for carrying things, but also smashing or tearing things. Again, they are like invisible arms, so anything a normal person could do with their arms, she can do with her extra ones. Origins/History: Samantha had a fairly privileged life prior to joining MetaOps. She attended college for a major in physics, but Sam still found enough free time to party almost every weekend (except for during midterms and finals. Nobody parties during midterms and finals). She didn’t get into any trouble during college, however, and graduated at 22 with a stellar GPA. After graduation, however, things got a little difficult. Sam had trouble finding a job, so she got on the next flight to Korean and stayed at her grandparents’ house in Seoul. It was in Seoul that Sam realized that she could pick things up from a distance, something she swore she couldn’t do beforehand. She began toying with her newfound power in the safety of her own home, slowly getting accustomed to using her extra arms. Sam began to piece together the details of her power; their effective distance, their strength, and how they related to her strength. It didn’t take long for her grandparents to find out she had telekinesis. After long deliberation, they ultimately decided to turn Sam in to the authorities. Sam refused, running from her grandparents’ home out of fear. However, Sam’s inherent recklessness kept getting her into trouble. She would abuse her power to try to steal from stores in order to survive on the streets of Seoul. For several months, Sam got along nicely in Seoul. However, her luck eventually ran out, and a shopkeeper noticed that he was being robbed. Sam managed to escape, but the security footage didn’t lie. The shopkeeper alerted the government right away. As soon as the guns started to be waved at Sam, she surrendered. She was held in isolation for several days while the Korean officials decided what to do with her. Ultimately, she was handed over to the US government and given to MetaOps. For her first year at MetaOps, much of her time was devoted to strengthening her powers and learning their limits, as well as extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. Sam found that she was a quick learner in hand-to-hand and quickly excelled. She’s no expert, but she’s pretty damn good at it. After that first year, Witch was deemed ready to go out into the field, and has since spent a year operating for MetaOps. Personality: Sam’s primary trait is that she is absolutely curious about everything. If she doesn’t know something to a satisfactory degree, Sam will question anyone she can until she does. However, her curiosity comes with a downside. Her inquisitive nature often leads to strong cynicism, so she finds herself questioning people’s motives more often than she’d like to admit to. Not to say that Sam is an absolute cynic. She still considers herself fortunate that MetaOps picked her up from the Korean government and that she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life in a prison or lab somewhere, and Sam keeps that in mind at all times. She has utmost respect for authority within MetaOps and has fierce loyalty to the division. For the most part, Sam thinks in a procedural, rational manner, but it doesn’t take much for her to lose her cool. She’s young, she’s reckless, and MetaOps often finds itself having to clean up after her or reprimand her actions or rein her in. Appearance: Sam is small and unseeming, standing at only 5’4, but the nature of her power requires her to stay in excellent physical condition. She’s short, but she’s tough, and has a strong, muscular body to make up for her size. As for her other features, Sam has bleached and dyed her naturally black hair into a beach blonde color, wearing it in a medium-length ponytail. She wears thick frame glasses over her dark brown eyes which she replaces with contacts when she is sent on a mission. Speaking of which, her mission attire is a completely black, full-body jumpsuit, with pockets scattered over her legs in various sizes to carry a multitude of things. In addition to this, Sam wears military-grade combat boots and gloves and is more often than not found wearing a different kind of hat on her head. thank you for this image! Sam in her suit (minus the goggles) (the idea for Sam’s power was most definitely inspired by both Chronicle and Elfen Lied. in fact, I might as well have taken a carbon copy from both of them and placed it here, so you could most definitely refer to those if you want a clearer picture of Sam’s power!)
56,178	1,537	36	1,884	334	Chimera was slightly stunned as he hit the ground, almost surprised at his success at catching the smaller creature without hurting her. As Gloria thanked him, he nodded his head and quickly rolled to his feet, watching as she shouted out that Revel was lying. Yes, he knew that, but shouting out that he was lying was almost definitely a stupid plan, and Drake's suspicions about it being a terrible idea were confirmed as she leapt at the Immortal with the grenade. What the hell could she possibly be thinking?! As she grabbed his fur, he followed the small girl like a dog on a leash, more out of simple confusion then obedience. Unfortunately, the plan didn't work and all it did was take the Immortals attention off of his plan and onto the reactor once again. "Do me a favor." He spoke, his voice no longer like the innocent Drakes, but now warbled and gravelly as if he was grinding his teeth down onto rocks as he spoke and the words slightly slurred thanks to his less than human mouth. "Any more brilliant plans you have, ask someone first." With that he rushed out from behind the pillar just in time to hear Crosscuts order: kill. He might as well have asked them to blow up the earth with nothing more than a potato and a tin can since that seemed easier than the task at hand. A blur in the corner of his eye caught Chimera's attention before he could join the fray; he watched Revel come shooting past him towards the reactor. Maybe he didn't like the mans arrogance, but twice he had been the only one to give any help at all to delaying this Meta, so if they were to stand any chance he needed to buy Revel time to do whatever it was he was doing. Without any more hesitation, Drake growled under his breath and charged the immortal, flapping his giant wings to begin to slowly get as much air as he could. As he did however, he saw the Immortal turn his sights. Drake had never been a fan of violence, much less death. When his partner was killed so quickly... So brutally... He froze and landed back down onto the ground. He couldn't have even moved fast enough to save her. She really was just gone, and he couldn't have done anything but watch on. His eyes darkened as he let out a vicious roar, suddenly charging the Immortal just as he turned around. This time Chimera was faster, leaping through the air and barreling straight into the immortal with his much larger mass, slamming him directly into the floor. "No more killing!" He shouted in his distorted voice, ripping into the meta's clothing with his feral claws but doing no damage to the actual man. Finding this unsuccessful, he simply used his tail to slam him into the wall. He attempted to repeat this plan, only to find the Immortal was finally recovering and caught his tail, this time slinging Drake into the cement structure with a much larger bang.	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,179	1,537	37	1,854	4,756	Gloria - Specter Gloria's plan had been effective in conception but in practice it fell far short of what she expected. The broken remnants of her two combat knives lay scattered at the Immortal's feet. Luckily she still had one more strapped to her arm but that wasn't really a boon at the moment as the knives had shattered on contact with the Immortal's skin. Crosscut had come in just a moment before Gloria's grenade went off, trying to stop her but it made no difference one way or another. Gloria heard the bang of the explosive, severely muffled and the Immortal seemed no worse for wear. Gloria would never have considered doing that to a normal man and with the Immortal it seemed it was overkill. The insides should have been more penetrable than the exterior. In a vain attempt to rectify her mistake Crosscut warped into the zone materialized construction equipment inside the Immortal's body, just as with the grenade it seemed to have no effect. Gloria watched as McWizz infected the rebar with some form of energy. Finally this seemed to get the reaction of pain from the Immortal though he was no less capable of sending this plant into melt down. As the flying man made to attack McWizz he was impeded by a girl, Gloria had seen in the briefing, Gloria hadn't learned her name. The Immortal turned on her throwing the infected rebar at her. Though she was skilled enough with her power to prevent the rebar from cracking her skull the girl didn't see what was coming next, but Gloria did. The Specter started to run as fast as her legs would move in the girl's direction but a feeling deep within her told her she would be too late. The Immortal grasped the girl by the throat and despite the noise of the area Gloria heard the sickening sound of her neck crack. She was dead. Moments later the beast the Chimera had now become came barreling past her and slammed into the Immortal enraged. Chimera hit their enemy with enough force that he actually hit the ground before retaliating violently. Gloria stopped beside the dead girl and held her head in her arms. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't learn your name and I'm sorry you won't see anything that comes after. You deserved better than this." Words echoed in Gloria's head. "I have to go somewhere else now don’t I?" "Gloria what did you do?" A single tear fell from Gloria's eyes and landed on the dead girl's forehead. "I promise you I'll make this right." With fire in her veins Gloria stood and turned to face the Immortal. After his fight with Chimera he was very close to the wall of the plant. This granted Gloria an opportunity she hadn't had before. Gloria started to run again. Her velocity increasing with her anger. Just as the Immortal was done shrugging off the impact of Chimera Gloria hit him with all her combined strength pushing him a few meters back into the wall. As she did this Gloria extended her powers around him. Pain shot up Gloria's body as she used her power over the massive electric field the Immortal was generating. Rage dulled the pain and Gloria pushed submerging the Immortal's head halfway into the concrete then pushing his hands in too. She moved a distance from him. This wouldn't hold long. With limited time and even more limited options a crazed plan came over Gloria, truly an insane idea and yet it might just work. Gloria glanced at the Immortal, then to the broken body of the nameless girl. Gloria started to sprint. Not towards the Immortal who for the moment was trapped but towards the Reactor Chamber. The doors were sealed but despite being impeded Gloria didn't break stride as she ran through the hallway. As she approached the door Gloria switch her gift into active being and phased straight throw the stainless steal. Once through the doors Gloria ran down the stairs taking then three at the time. She'd seen Revel repel down just a moment ago. Sure enough there he was at the bottom of the shaft, just above the reactor itself. "Revel, I need to talk to you." She was interrupted by the sound of fighting from upstairs. The battle wasn't going well. "Never mind what you did to my back, I deal with that later. I think I have a plan to stop the Immortal. We've been given the kill order and the Immortal wants to die. He's under the impression that a reactor meltdown is the only way to do it and he knows a lot more about his powers than we do. Maybe he's right, maybe the reactor is the only thing that can kill him. So we give him what he wants. Use the reactor to end his life but we do it in a way that won't cause an overload. If I phase him through all of the containment barriers and he rematerializes within the reactor itself with any luck it will immolate him leaving the plant unharmed. It'll royally screw up the reactor long term but short term we're down a super villain and the area is safe."	Code Name: Specter Real Name: Gloria Lieth Age: 19 Nationality: American Power: Intangibility – Simply put Gloria has the ability to shift the rate at which her molecules vibrate in order to pass through solid matter. The biggest exception to this is electricity, attempting to phase through anything that carries a heavy electric charge will cause her a great amount of pain. If the charge is towards the lower end but still present she may still be able to push through, this kind of stress of her powers will leave behind something akin to a severe friction burn on any exposed skin that went through the process, effects on clothing may vary by circumstance. If Gloria tries to reform inside a solid object her body will attempt to expel the foreign material with varied degrees of success. If it is a small portion of her body inside a comparatively less dense material then the material will warp and shift to accommodate that body part however if it is most of her body inside something like stone then she will experience excruciating pain her molecules fuse with the stone in a permanent and fatal manor. Organic matter carries a discernable electric charge. This means that the same rules apply to Gloria moving through a person as they do moving through electricity. Compared to something like an electric fence the charge that humans or animals carry is relatively low so Gloria could move through someone however it would hurt quite a bit. Reforming inside something with an electric charge would be suicide, Gloria may succeed in reforming but the charge of the matter she is moving through would kill her. However Gloria has discovered that if she moves through something with a low level charge and alternates solid and not very quickly she is able to fry circuitry, such as security systems or computers. Passing through vegetation is not a problem as the charge it carries is almost unnoticeable compared to other living things. The denser a substance is the more difficult for Gloria to move through it. Something like class would be fairly easy but something like lead or osmium would be much more difficult and possibly even dangerous depending on how much of it she is phasing through. Origins: Gloria grew up in New York City. Her home was not exactly a stable one. Both her parents Peter and Rose, worked constantly, her mother was a lawyer and her father a doctor. This meant that both Gloria and her little sister Cassandra lived well but there’s more to life than that. Because of their occupations neither of Gloria’s parents were home consistently and when they were home Gloria was not there favorite person. They saw Gloria as a deviant, unwilling or worse unable to fulfil their vision of what a daughter should be. On the best days they ignored her but on many of the less pleasant ones Gloria and her parents would get into violently loud arguments. Because of this Gloria stayed out quite often when she knew her parents might be home. She spent most of her time at pool halls or twenty four hour coffee shops. It wasn’t really a secret that Cassandra was Peter and Rose’s favorite but Gloria didn’t resent her sister for it. If you met Cassandra you’d know it was hard to resent her for anything. Cassie as Gloria called her was almost as unstable as Gloria’s home life. She had been diagnosed with schizophrenia at a young age, her parents however couldn’t bear to have her institutionalized. Usually her delusions were pretty tame but every now and then she’d have a serious fit. Peter and Rose didn’t see many of these, they were too busy working. To them Cassandra was there perfect daughter, they weren’t capable of seeing how seriously she needed help. Gloria didn’t like spending time at home, it contained very few pleasant memories for her but at times when she knew her parents were working she would stay none the less to keep her little sister calm. When Gloria was out she gave Cassie a cellphone, if anything scared or frightened her, or anything happened that Cassie couldn’t explain she was to call right away. The development of Gloria’s meta-gene when she was fourteen was the beginning of the end. At first her parents didn’t notice but Gloria’s control over her ability was spotty, she’d phase partway through things at the randomest times and soon enough it happened in public. Once a month Gloria, Rose Peter and Cassie all sat down for a family dinner. This family time once a month was hell for Gloria but Cassie five years younger than her sister seemed to love having everyone together, she didn’t see the tension between her parents and her older sister. For this reason when this time rolled around Gloria tried to be as pleasant as she could, to be the person that Peter and Rose wanted despite the fact that it was not who she was. Gloria helped her mother with dinner that night trying so hard to make this special for her sister. When she was taking the plates to the dining room table Gloria tripped on a piece of loose carpet and went careening towards the table plates flying everywhere. Some sort of instinct activated in Gloria then, a primal sense of self protection cause her power to activate that moment. It save her head from smashing into the fine oak but it doomed her in her parent’s eyes. Gloria passed straight through the table top with her entire family there to witness. At the best of time Peter and Rose were not tolerant people but finding out that there child was a mutant was the final straw for them. They removed her from school, couldn’t have that happening in public, what would the neighbors think? Then they forbid her to leave the house. Of course Gloria was happy to stay when both her parents were out if only to keep an eye on her little sister. At that point in her life the only reason that Gloria didn’t run away from home was because Cassie. The little girl need Gloria now more than ever. Cassie had always had an over active imagination which often enough fueled her delusions. Ever since she’d seen what Gloria could do her schizophrenia had incorporated it into her own personal reality. She’d become convinced that she also was a meta-human. That might have been okay if she thought she had telekinesis or pyrokinesis or energy manipulation or telepathy or anything else. Except Cassie didn’t dream up an ability like that. One that couldn’t hurt her. Cassie had started to believe that she could fly. At the beginning it was almost funny, seeing the eleven year old jumping off tables and chairs and laughing when she hit the ground. Two years after Gloria first discovered her powers when she was sixteen things turned dangerous. Gloria came home one day to find Cassandra standing on the railing of the back deck, fifteen feet off the ground. “I’m gonna do it this time sis.” She shouted with a smile on her face, before Gloria could do anything Cassandra leapt from the railing. She broke both of her legs and fractured her collarbone. Gloria called 911, when Peter and Rose got home they wouldn’t believe that there dear sweet innocent Cassie had actually jumped off a fifteen foot deck. The real answer seemed obvious, Gloria had pushed her sister off the deck out of jealously. No matter how many times Gloria told them what happened they refused to believe it. It was only Cassandra’s insistence that Gloria had gotten home after the fall that kept her from ending up in Juvi. Three months later after Cassie’s bones had healed Gloria’s relationship with her parents had deteriorated further, to the point where Gloria couldn’t be in the same room with them without an argument starting. That fateful night Gloria stormed out of the house not wanted to be there when Peter and Rose returned. She went down to the pool halls were she wasn’t too bad at hustle guys out of there cash. That night Gloria got a phone call in that special phone she’d reserved for her sister. She picked up with haste leaving a game mid play and forfeiting her bet. “Cassie what’s wrong?” “There’s something in the attic with me sis. I’m scared, but one of the windows in the attic is open. I’m gonna fly away from it. I’m going to be alright.” Gloria’s heart nearly stopped, she began to run for home as fast as her legs would carry her as she tried to talk her sister down. “Cassie don’t do this. Whatever’s in the attic with you isn’t scary enough to waste your powers on it, your powers are special. They should be used for special things.” Gloria had learned that directly opposing Cassie’s delusions was a mistake. Her little sister would get irritable and angry and Gloria couldn’t calm her down. “Its big sis, it’s got horns.” “Cassie I’m almost at the house, don’t do anything till I get there.” “It’s coming for my Glory. I have to fly. I have too.” Gloria rounded the corner to the street her house was on. She shoved open the gate with enough force to smash it into the fence beside. Gloria ran up the walk just in time to hear her sister’s scream and see her body hit the ground. In shock Gloria gathered her little sister in her arms, she wasn’t even twelve yet and she seemed so small all broken. She tried to smile and Gloria could see blood coating her teeth. “It didn’t get me sis, I flew. Did you see?” Gloria smiled tears streaming down her eyes. “I saw, my little angel, you flew. It was beautiful.” The smile on Cassandra’s face was so innocent it broke Gloria’s heart. “I… I have to go somewhere else now don’t I?” Gloria couldn’t answer. How did you respond to a dying girls last words? Cassie reached up a hand and touched Gloria’s chest right below her collarbone. “Don’t worry sis, I’ll always be there for you. Right there.” She said pocking Gloria’s chest, smearing blood on her tank top. That was how Peter and Rose found the two of them three house later. Cassandra’s broken body being cradled by a despondent Gloria who was still crying and holding Cassie in her arms. “My god Gloria, what did you do?” said Peter looking on the scene with horror. This snapped Gloria out of whatever state she’d been existing in before. Her pain and anguish quickly turning to anger. “You can’t possibly think… I’m your daughter, her sister. I would never… but then what do you know about me? What do you know about either of us? Maybe if you’d bothered to come home every once in a while you might have been able to stop her from jumping.” “Jumping?” said Rose in shock. “You can’t possibly think we’d believe this was self-inflicted? Our daughter would never commit suicide.” “Mom! You’re daughter was schizophrenic, she needed help. Help you weren’t willing to admit might be necessary. Her blood in on your hands.” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “No actually I think it’s on your hands.” he said gesturing down Gloria’s hands which were indeed stained wither her sisters blood. “Rose call the police.” Gloria watched in horror as her mother pulled out a cellphone. “Police, I’d like to report a murder. My daughter is dead, yes I know who did it. She’s still here. Get here as quick as possible I don’t think we can hold her for long.” Gloria looked between her parents and realized two very important things, they’d never really loved her, and they were determined to see her jailed for Cassandra’s death. Gloria started to run. “No you don’t.” shouted Peter moving to intercept. Gloria didn’t stop she just kept running and as she approached her father her both moved through his. Pain crackled through her limbs that Gloria didn’t fully understand but shock, horror, and grief dulled its edge so that she barely felt it. Gloria didn’t stop running till she was ten blocks from her house. She used the little money she had on her to buy new, clean clothing and she wiped the blood from her skin. This began Gloria’s life on the streets. It took six months before the police gave up on finding her. Of course officially her file was still open and she was still wanted but after that amount of time no one expected her to be found. She stayed in New York, using her gift to steal what she needed. A neat trick she discovered was that if she made her stomach intangible she could store shoplifted items in it for several minutes before she started to feel like she was choking. Gloria did what she had to, to survive. Six months ago her jobs finally caught up with her. She was hired by a local fence to steal a diamond ring from a safety deposit body. It was a trap set by MetaOps. They’d gotten winds of her exploits, the vault were the diamond was held had been retrofitted with an electrically charged grid in all of the walls, floor and ceiling which was activated once she was inside. After that they used insulated cuffs that were wired to transport her to a holding facility. Her choices were simple, join the MetaOps project or spent the next two to five years in jail for the various crimes she’d committed to get by. Personality: Gloria has a prominent wild streak to her and enjoyed partying, drinking, and having sex. Often enough she’ll use a guy and dump him without forming any sort of emotional ties. She can also be careless and irresponsible, Gloria treats serious matters more lightly than she probably should. She is generally carefree and laid-back, causing her to view people who take matters serious as being wound too tight. Gloria doesn’t really want to be in any sort of leadership position on the team because of a deep seated fear that her mistakes could cost them a lot just like with her sister. She explains this reluctance to take command of a situation by nonchalantly saying it’s too much of a hassle. When she wants to be Gloria can be both forceful and persuasive, she could be a decent leader given the chance. Gloria frequently proved herself to be impulsive. She is known for her quick, easily irritated nature, something her father described as the "Lieth temper". Gloria has deep issues with parental figures, due to being raised by neglectful, absent parents while she was young. Nonetheless, she has a deep yearning for a family. She has many trust issues, always fearing that she will be betrayed or hurt if she lets someone in. Often enough she is incapable of understanding why someone would show kindness with nothing to gain for themselves. She is always suspicious of people who take an interest in her. Gloria shows hostility to those she doesn't trust or doesn't know but on the one hand, she would display extreme loyalty to those who were close to her and cared for her, yet that hasn’t happened since her sister died. Appearance:
56,180	1,537	38	2,096	5,087	Ignoring Revel, Michelle turned her attention back to the Immortal. She ran behind a pillar to take cover from Specter's grenade, and was not all that surprised to see that it did no damage. The kill order then came, Crosscut and MicWiz were doing what they could to take him down, but they weren't doing much more than slowing him down. Michelle also knew that she couldn't just do nothing forever. As she got out of cover, however, the Immortal headed over to Witch. Alarmed, Michelle sprinted over, but she was too late. The Immortal had already snapped her neck. As Chimera charged the Immortal once more, Michelle reached Witch's body, although not as quickly as Gloria did. Michelle shared Gloria's feelings, although Michelle was more accustomed to the idea of death. Her partner and best friend since childhood died in battle as well, after all. "She died too soon," Michelle muttered. After Gloria left Witch's body, Michelle knelt down and closed Witch's eyes, then turned her attention back to the Immortal. It was time for her to act. ...or so she would like to believe. How was she going to even attempt to hinder a near-invulnerable superbeing?	Code Name: Widowmaker Real Name: Michelle Kine Age: 27 Gender: Female Nationality: American Powers: None. She is a normal human through and through. Instead, she has these talents: -Sharpshooter: Michelle is a master with virtually any firearm one could come up with. Pistols, sniper rifles, grenade launchers, you name it, she can use it. -Battle instincts: honed through a lifetime of fighting both normals and super humans, Michelle both reacts and recovers more quickly than most. -Fist fighting: Just because she uses firearms so much doesn't mean she doesn't know how to fight without one. Origins/History: Michelle grew up in a rough neighborhood. Gangs controlled the streets, and not even the police did anything about them; in fact, some were even bribed to keep their noses out of the conflict. As a result, little Michelle had to learn how to fend for herself. It certainly wasn't easy, especially since she was a girl. In time, though, she earned a reputation among the gangs so they knew not to bother her. Of course, things took a turn for the worse when she encountered a gang leader who was a super human. She fought hard, but she ultimately could not contend. Before she faced complete defeat, however, she was fortunate enough to have another super human interfere in the fight and save her. Michelle was too proud at first to express her thanks, but they eventually became good friends. When they grew up, they enlisted in the military. The two went through tough times, both in the field and at home, but they were inseparable. At least, until one day, when two were caught by surprise and Michelle's friend died in the firefight by another super human. Michelle had quickly killed the one who had done the deed, but it did little to ease the pain of the loss. Shortly after, Michelle was approached with the offer to join MetaOps, which Michelle accepted. Personality: Michelle has a hard look in her eyes, as if she had seen terrible things. She's also not the most chatty person either. However, the look can soften, and a kinder personality will show. In a fight, there's no one else you would have to stay by your side, and will stay by you if your death slowly approaches.
56,181	1,537	39	1,813	471	David had been observing the available energy resources in the energy plant they were at, and electricity was a abundance here, but it was necessary to be sent elsewhere like the city where it was needed, so he had crossed it as off limits unless in an emergency. He had been perhaps the very last one to be transported over and thus was also the last to react out of the whole group as well with his observation on his environment it was. However, everything seemed to happen so quick as he was snapped out of his examination of where his battlefield when he heard a snap and quickly glanced as he saw Samantha, or Witch fall down after being killed by the Immortal. It was a shock, yes he had seen people die before but in front of him was a girl that had so much potential in her life, yet it was smothered out. Never showing her true potential in the world and soon to be forgotten as well, but David pushed away these thoughts as he blinked furiously as he realized his eyes were becoming teary. He forced himself to gather himself and access the situation, and look what was happening with the battlefield. He watched as the chimera charged at the insanely strong meta-human and then came the opening he needed, as Gloria aka The Specter, slammed the man into the wall and- phased him, partially through the wall leaving the man temporarily stuck with his hands immobilized. It was a good opportunity but it would be sore experience the next day, he had to give it everything he had and too went to finally join the fight. Passing Specter and standing right behind the Immortal, The Elementalist concentrated on the concrete flooring along with the walls and focused on the the water, cement and a another foreign element he wasn't too sure what it was but he could feel it as well. Manipulating all three elements, the concrete began to climb up the Meta-Human's legs and arms before digging into the clothing and then tried piercing the meta's flesh trying to imbue itself into the man's body while it climbed it. At this rate, it was significant but within no less than minute and perhaps sooner, if the Immortal didn't escape he would be entombed within a concrete coffin. Maintaining the growth and movement of the elements was a difficult challenge for David in this situation and pace however, he managed as he watched the concrete he was controlling doing its work on the man. He had started with the mans legs as his main priority before his arms but there wasn't much of a difference in the progress of either of the two. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the Specter running off but he couldn't follow her as soon she got out of his line of sight, he was back on paying his full attention to the Immortal that he was trying to keep immobilized.	Real Name David Arazaga Age 25 Gender Male Nationality Half Argentinian/Mexican Powers: Elemental Manipulation - David has the ability of manipulating the elements in all their forms, being more focused on being versatile to cover more area rather than potent in a single element. Despite his weaker elemental powers, he specializes in combining elements and creating devastating elemental magic. However, due to combining multiple elements, it is very draining on David's stamina. David also cannot create elements out of thin air, and can only manipulate already existing sources, however creativity may allow him to find resources where it might not be expected. The more complicated the element, the more draining it is on David and if the resources aren't nearby then it drains David even more to collect the elements to form it. Origins/History: Summarizing a average childhood, David was born into the middle-class where his family were able to afford to live comfortably as live their life. Being to afford something expensive perhaps once in a while, David didn't mind his modest upbringing. However, during his time through school he was a avid student, who surprisingly had an high interest within the science and math subjects of school. However, since he learned faster than the children of his age he felt different from them as he could relate to older children much more easily. Learning things from them as well socially and picking up some things from them as well. With this kind of childhood, Damien was nerdy guy who was pretty smart for a kid his age but still had a bunch to learn despite his studiousness. However, if you had anything to ask about something that you were confused about in class, you could ask him and he would most likely clear up something for you. From the first glace, you wouldn't had seen anything special about the boy but when he was alone you could see he glowed brightly at times before it would disappear. Going through High-School he changed and became a little more socially pleasant, being able to hold a normal conversation with other people, while also making sure to look good enough to make a nice humble impression to people. However, many people knew that he still was a nerdy guy who if anything was more interested in taking a book and reading it somewhere quiet or surfing up the web. He was a generally likable guy who was interesting and had a handful amount of friends who he knew pretty well and they the same. Taking him by surprise was the years of High School, which had breezed by and before he could root himself down he graduated from high school. Having a good idea on what he wanted to do, he decided to go into college to take a degree in math, however switched a year latter into science subject. Deciding that it would be more colorful and exciting to study science which was a broad range of thing was better than the bland language of mathematics despite him being able to do it proficiently. Science was simply a more fun subject that he preferred and could teach other easily and so years went by in college with him getting his Masters in Science before finally a teaching degree. However during these years in college was when he discovered his powers, where an unfortunate accident almost took place. It had near midnight where he was separated from his friends after a late night of drinking themselves silly and he wondered away from the group. Then came from the alleyway was the victim of his outburst of powers as, he was threatened. With a knife at his neck, his eyes glowed briefly before it felt warm, with the chilly night air disappear and was increasing getting warmer before his attack was set on fire. Unsure what happen along with him being drunk, he ran away despite a pair of eyes watching him as he ran away getting a cab back to the dorms. How he got recruited into the MetaOps... was a very unlikely thing for David when he thought of it as they had came several months after he had finished getting his degree. He would had almost forgotten about the incident if he wasn't practicing how his powers worked, as he preformed minor tricks such as lighting a candle or freezing his cup of water to ice when he was bored. If they hadn't come to the college under the disguise of searching for him for that certain night. It had taken them several months of tracking him down and upon being approached about the incident, he did his best to bluff and lie about what happened that night but with video evidence. He started to run, with him out the window of a 3-story dorm may seem impossible, but he trusted himself enough that he controlled the air around him cushioning his fall before he ran. But from the corner that he turn was shot with tranquilizer darts before being dragged away... There he was explained that he was being watched by a single agent who had notice that David showed the signs of being an gifted since a early age and was reported by a few people but nothing was going to be done until he displayed his powers. They would of abandoned the case long ago if there wasn't a small yet tiny stream of complaints of him glowing eerily due to the amount of energy that was suppressed in him for all those years. Promised that he wouldn't get into trouble for the accident and that he could redeem himself, he was recruited into the MetaOps and trained so he could use his powers without them being released unconsciously. It had been quite a while since that incident and David was now a changed person, despite his plans not going how he expected it was better than what he was thinking of doing. Personality: A bright and young individual who seemingly looks like the everyday person with the exception of his youth and energy that people of his age has. David likes being a intelligent person and likes to judge people upon first meeting them, however he prefers to keep his opinion to himself and remain polite. He is always perceived as a shy and reclusive individual which is mostly correct for the most part, on the other hand, he can be quite a sociable person but speaks softly. Mumbling combined with his soft way of speaking makes him easily able to fade into the background if he ever wished to disappear from the conversation as he was barely noticed anyway in the first place. When he does speak clearly he is shown to have a nice voice, not too deep as it is a blend of both masculine and feminine, with his voice being slightly deeper.
56,182	1,537	40	2,725	212	Izzy couldn't do anything. She was useless. At first, she had been shooting at The Immortal, to at least get his attention or something, but he gave absolutely no reaction. And why would he? Everyone else was throwing far more at him, and even that wasn't doing much. Drake, in his Chimera form, and Alex were incredibly offensively gifted, but... nothing was doing anything. The girl really began to panic when she saw Specter leap onto The Immortal, only to be attacked by Revel. Another mad dash by Specter, the end result of which was a grenade implanted into The Immortal's body. A faint hope fluttered in Izzy -- it was a smart idea, it'd make sense if his insides weren't as impenetrable as his skin. With the appearance of Ray, she thought that they all might have a chance. But the grenade did nothing. And neither did all the bars that Ray teleported directly into The Immortal, despite being enhanced by Alex. Finally, to crush any remaining hope the girl had, The Immortal decided to counter-attack, taking the life of Samantha before Izzy could even blink. The snap of the woman's neck echoed in Izzy's mind as the lifeless body hit the floor. She stared, wide-eyed, horrified and in disbelief. Fra... gile... If he could kill one of them so easily, what chance did they have? Izzy kept her eyes locked on Samantha as Specter and David attempted to immobilize The Immortal. The shock slowly passed, being replaced by an unsettling numbness. Breaking her gaze, she clumsily forced her feet to move, towards David and The Immortal. She was no longer really thinking, as she was trying to disconnect herself from the situation -- she knew she couldn't and wasn't allowed to leave, no matter how desperately she wished. Instead, her body was just doing what she knew it was supposed to. The stunned girl shuffled next to David wordlessly, keeping her dull eyes on The Immortal's trapped frame, ready to do whatever she could to protect the Elementalist if their enemy broke free -- a feat that would not surprise her in the slightest.	Appearance: Code Name: Freyja Real Name: Isabelle "Izzy" Winters Age: 20 Gender: Female Nationality: British-Canadian Powers: Some sort of entity inhabits Izzy's body alongside her. This spirit hasn't displayed the ability to take control of her body, and can do no more than occasionally whisper into her mind. It does, however, make Izzy immortal. Any injury that the girl sustains, no matter how severe, will heal itself nearly instantly after a long delay. The delay depends on the severity of the wound, and will generally be several hours long. This regeneration will activate even if Izzy is dead, and will bring her back to life, only slightly worse for wear. What Izzy's power does not do is nullify pain in any way. Getting shot will still hurt her. A lot. Power Origin: The eight-year-old Izzy had just woken up from a nightmare. The same one she had had every night, without fail, for the past two years. In it, she would wake up not in her own bed, but her mothers. With neither of her parents in sight, she would hop off the tall bed and exit into the hallway. Walking down it would take far longer than it did in real life. Eventually, she would make it to her dark kitchen and tiptoe around the table, every step taking her closer to the stairs that lead to the basement. And she would stand there, staring in horror, as the door creaked open, revealing a rotting, human figure. Its face was a mess, with no distinguishable human features, its skin was loose and grey, and its limbs were too long and ended in clawed hands and feet. It would climb up towards her, and she knew she should run, but she could never move. It would reach her, and grab hold of her. And then it would slash at her stomach. Any normal nightmare of Izzy's would have ended right there, but this one continued. The creature would tear the helpless girl apart, and no matter how mutilated she became, she wouldn't die. She would lay there in terror, and in unimaginable pain, waiting for the creature to stop. Which it would, eventually. After it had had its fill of fun, it would take one last, blank look at the girl's eyes, before slowly turning and crawling back down to the basement. The young girl shivered under her covers, a cold sweat covering her. After spending an hour calming herself down, telling herself it was only a dream, she fell asleep again, knowing her ordeal for the night was over. That morning, she decided she had had enough. Gathering her courage over a few hours, she made her way to the basement stairs while her parents were outside, enjoying the summer sun. Izzy had always made a point of avoiding the basement when not with her parents, but today, she desperately wanted to prove to herself that there was nothing to be scared of. Clutching the fabric of her shirt at her chest, she took the first step down -- and tripped over a shoe. She tumbled down violently, landing at the base of the stairs, in too much shock to make any noise. Pain and nausea swept across her small body, and she fought to focus her eyes. Panic set in as she realized she couldn't move and that her body was twisted in ways that it shouldn't have been. As life left her, her eyes darted around, desperate for help. And then she saw it. The creature from her nightmare. It stood in the short hallway, only a few feet from her, looking down at her small frame. It crouched down and touched her cheek, and she could feel its cold skin. She had seen it hundreds of times in her mind, but this was too much. The wave of terror that hit her was what finally caused her to lose consciousness. When she came to, she was in an Intensive Care Unit, surrounded by a doctor and a few nurses who stared down at her in disbelief. They all started up at the same time, running around the room chaotically. Through it all, only one thing was clear to Izzy. A raspy voice. Hel... lo. Her head groggy, the next hours were a blur. Tests were run on her, confirming that all her injuries were healed. Realizing Izzy was a meta-human, the doctors let the government know. As she was so young, no action beyond covering up the event was done. Instead, her parents were told that when Izzy was of age, she would be brought into the military. History: With her life set from the beginning, Izzy had no real cares or worries during her teen years. The hardest thing she endured in her life, other than that voice in her head, was moving from Edmonton to Montreal when she was 13, but she adjusted quickly to the new city, and even picked up a little french. She didn't have to overachieve in school, nor work part-time jobs to pay for tuitions. Instead, she made sure to enjoy herself. While not a natural thrill-seeker, she did plenty of stupid stuff, knowing she didn't have to fear death. It's enough to say that she woke up in a puddle of her own dried blood more than a few times. The pain was the worst part. Most of the time, she would either pass out quickly from it or just die, which was always ideal, but a couple times she had to lay in agony for hours until her ability kicked in. Having that happen was always her biggest fear, and the only reason why she wasn't out enjoying herself all the time. When not out and about, Izzy ate up any sort of media that involved an immortal character. For obvious reasons, she couldn't get enough. Between those two and socializing, she saw no point in making much of an effort in her school work. She got by without too much trouble though never reached her potential. The day came where Izzy turned 18. She wasn't sure whether she was happy about that or not. On one hand, being a superhero and fighting to save people seemed awesome, though she worried that she had romanticized that idea over the years. On the other, her easy, fun life was over. Knowing that worrying about it would change nothing, she had a tearful goodbye with her parents before being driven off and told she would be part of MetaOps. Not being very good at the whole military-killing thing, it took a good year-and-a-half of training to get Izzy ready for her first mission. She died on that one. And the one after that. Personality: Izzy is sociable, if a little quiet. She enjoys spending time with people, but does act a little shy often. She tends to be very polite with people, and always has a smile on her face in an attempt to brighten other's days. Understandably, she doesn't put much value on her life, which is a good thing since that's basically in her job description. Despite having been hot stuff in her teen days, her confidence has been greatly dampened by the fact that she's extremely inexperienced compared to everyone around her. Not only that, but she seems to take longer than everyone else to pick things up. When she lets her mind wander, she tends to think that she's only kept around as cannon-fodder to keep other, better soldiers alive. She's mostly gotten over her habit of ignoring work, and tries her best to improve herself so that she can keep others safe. Or at least not bring them down.
56,183	1,537	41	1,884	334	Drake was in all honesty, beginning to regret accepting the offer from to join MetaOps. So far their first mission was resulting in a an awful lot of pain for him , and vey little gain for the team. Slowly he stood up and stumbled a bit, his massive frame unstable thanks to yet another crushing blow to his back from the Immortal. He shook his head as he tried to clear his vision, his eye sight slowly focusing on ... witch. She was still dead, whoever the girl was. She had only tried to help, and look at what happened to her. Drake almost received another pounding when Gloria saved his ass, though he supposed that made him even. When the one of the other supers he had yet to meet came to begin controlling the stone, Drake grunted and shuffled over to his side, limping ever so slightly. Chimera was honestly just trying to use this slight break in order to coordinate a bit, but something told him they didn't have much time. That's what they needed to do, buy more time... "That won't hold him for long." He warned weakly, slowly poising his tail to strike as soon as the Immortal might move. "I'm strong enough to toss him around but we're screwed if someone doesn't come up with something..." Drake was alerted to Izzy's presence as she ran up, his ear a perking up slightly at her footsteps. "Hey, you alright?"	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,184	1,537	42	952	2,710	The Immortal continued nearing the reactor room, a feeling of elation overtaking him the closer he got. Suddenly, the world went dark. Did he die? Did one of the metas finally do it? No, he still felt pain. He was still alive, he just couldn't see or move his hands. The woman who could phase through objects, it must have been her. The Immortal was disappointed that this was all they could do to stop him, a concrete wall was nothing to his strength. Then he felt himself begin to lose the ability to move other parts of his body. It started from his legs and was now spreading upward. So, that wasn't the extent of their plan. Still, they only delayed the inevitable. The Immortal began to moving his right hand first. It took a bit of effort, but he did finally release it from the wall. Next he used his free hand to help release his left hand. Now that both hands were free, he easily tore the concrete from his body. He hadn't seen who had surrounded him in the hard material, so he lashed out at the nearest person: Freyja. He punched her in the chest as hard as could with his right hand, while sweeping with his left. He hadn't really been paying attention to aiming as he swept his left arm, so he only just barely hit Chimera, sending him flying away, while just missing Elementalist all together. The Immortal continued lumbering towards the Reactor Room.	Code Name: Witch Real Name: Samantha Choi Age: 24 Gender: Female Nationality: Korean-American Powers: Witch has telekinesis, similar to having an extra pair of long, strong, invisible arms. Limited to a range of twenty meters, the strength of her telekinesis is directly related to Witch’s physical strength and fatigue. The more in shape she is, the more weight she can carry. However, her telekinesis does not simply extend her reach; the weight she can carry through telekinesis versus how much she can normally carry is multiplied by a factor of ten. If Witch can lift up a one hundred pound object with her hands, she can lift a one thousand pound object through telekinesis. Other notes about her “arms”: Witch must be able to see what she is trying to carry. Her telekinesis can also be used to lift herself up, giving the impression she can fly or float. Finally, her “arms” are not only good for carrying things, but also smashing or tearing things. Again, they are like invisible arms, so anything a normal person could do with their arms, she can do with her extra ones. Origins/History: Samantha had a fairly privileged life prior to joining MetaOps. She attended college for a major in physics, but Sam still found enough free time to party almost every weekend (except for during midterms and finals. Nobody parties during midterms and finals). She didn’t get into any trouble during college, however, and graduated at 22 with a stellar GPA. After graduation, however, things got a little difficult. Sam had trouble finding a job, so she got on the next flight to Korean and stayed at her grandparents’ house in Seoul. It was in Seoul that Sam realized that she could pick things up from a distance, something she swore she couldn’t do beforehand. She began toying with her newfound power in the safety of her own home, slowly getting accustomed to using her extra arms. Sam began to piece together the details of her power; their effective distance, their strength, and how they related to her strength. It didn’t take long for her grandparents to find out she had telekinesis. After long deliberation, they ultimately decided to turn Sam in to the authorities. Sam refused, running from her grandparents’ home out of fear. However, Sam’s inherent recklessness kept getting her into trouble. She would abuse her power to try to steal from stores in order to survive on the streets of Seoul. For several months, Sam got along nicely in Seoul. However, her luck eventually ran out, and a shopkeeper noticed that he was being robbed. Sam managed to escape, but the security footage didn’t lie. The shopkeeper alerted the government right away. As soon as the guns started to be waved at Sam, she surrendered. She was held in isolation for several days while the Korean officials decided what to do with her. Ultimately, she was handed over to the US government and given to MetaOps. For her first year at MetaOps, much of her time was devoted to strengthening her powers and learning their limits, as well as extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. Sam found that she was a quick learner in hand-to-hand and quickly excelled. She’s no expert, but she’s pretty damn good at it. After that first year, Witch was deemed ready to go out into the field, and has since spent a year operating for MetaOps. Personality: Sam’s primary trait is that she is absolutely curious about everything. If she doesn’t know something to a satisfactory degree, Sam will question anyone she can until she does. However, her curiosity comes with a downside. Her inquisitive nature often leads to strong cynicism, so she finds herself questioning people’s motives more often than she’d like to admit to. Not to say that Sam is an absolute cynic. She still considers herself fortunate that MetaOps picked her up from the Korean government and that she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life in a prison or lab somewhere, and Sam keeps that in mind at all times. She has utmost respect for authority within MetaOps and has fierce loyalty to the division. For the most part, Sam thinks in a procedural, rational manner, but it doesn’t take much for her to lose her cool. She’s young, she’s reckless, and MetaOps often finds itself having to clean up after her or reprimand her actions or rein her in. Appearance: Sam is small and unseeming, standing at only 5’4, but the nature of her power requires her to stay in excellent physical condition. She’s short, but she’s tough, and has a strong, muscular body to make up for her size. As for her other features, Sam has bleached and dyed her naturally black hair into a beach blonde color, wearing it in a medium-length ponytail. She wears thick frame glasses over her dark brown eyes which she replaces with contacts when she is sent on a mission. Speaking of which, her mission attire is a completely black, full-body jumpsuit, with pockets scattered over her legs in various sizes to carry a multitude of things. In addition to this, Sam wears military-grade combat boots and gloves and is more often than not found wearing a different kind of hat on her head. thank you for this image! Sam in her suit (minus the goggles) (the idea for Sam’s power was most definitely inspired by both Chronicle and Elfen Lied. in fact, I might as well have taken a carbon copy from both of them and placed it here, so you could most definitely refer to those if you want a clearer picture of Sam’s power!)
56,185	1,537	43	451	960	When Angelina left the briefing room she had meant to head for the satellite room like the others, but she smelled one thing that have given her pause...Pizza. Instead of partaking in the highly important mission Angelina had thrown it all out the window to eat pizza. Though luckily she wasn't as stupid as most would've thought her to be. As she left to get the pizza she then took random things into her pallms; pictures, vases, anything small. After all there as no reason to go and fight without an arsenal right? Then she began to eat the pizza! This was probably her favorite part so far, and would also irritate whoever made or ordered it, but she didn't care about that part! Then Crosscut appeared to take her away. Appearing on the battlefield with a slice a pizza in her mouth, still in her black dress and all, and matter changing inside of her Angelina stood there examing the situation. One of her best non power qualities; analyze, memorize finalize. After watching what people were doing and how the Immortal reacted she came up with a more...clean approach. After all there were still things that people required to live... The one thing she hadn't expected was one of her own team to die. Weren't they supposed to be a team that was epic, unbeatable, awesome, or something like that? Angelina just sighed in disappointed almost as if a t.v. show had ended in a way that she hadn't wanted and would have to live with since it was out of her power. She didn't understand why it didn't seem to hurt her more, instead of thinking of the girl she just had images of two adults dieing. She felt like she should have known them, they seemed familiar but she didn't know from where. Angelina quickly shook her head and shoved it out of her mind. She had her plan, the matter she required already ready since it wasn't a lot she needed for this one and she had plenty of it for the idea she had...The question was...How the hell to get it into him...? So Angelica slowly began to walk over towards the Immortal as he broke free and hurt her teammates even more. Once he started moving towards the reactor Angelina quickly ran infront of the man at the doorway he'd have to pass through. "Hey there!" The simplest and friendliest thing she could say to him. After all why did they have to fight? IF she could trick him into her idea then the science should take care of the rest! Of course if she was wrong then hopefully plan B would work! If the Immortal struck at her of course plan B would be her only solution which would be throwing her hands up to block and maybe counter said strike or strikes and using her powers to hopefully stop him in his tracks!	Real Name: Unknown (Known by Angelica or Angelina due to what she does with her powers) Age: 17 Gender: Female Nationality: French Powers: Matter reconfiguration: Angelica's power in a nut shell is quite simple, yet highly complex. Her body is capable of deconstructing any living, or non living, thing to it's base matter by absorbing it into her body through her hands. The amount in which see can take in is limited to her own size. At this point her body can transform the matter into any kind she desires it to become. Then once taken in her body can produce anything of equal matter from any part of her body. The conditions for this ability are very intriguing though. If she takes in a tree for example, a living thing, then she must produce something that in someway is connected to her body that is also usable like another arm, wings, or maybe internal organs to heal herself. If it's something that wasn't alive then it can't give her anything like the above mentioned. Instead it would have to produce something like armor, a gun, or maybe a glass dove if she really wanted! The biggest thing though is making sure she has equal matter of any kind. It should also be noted that a black hole appears on her palms when she uses this so whatever she's taking in is literally torn apart on a molecular level. It should be noted that this process is time consuming and is not instantaneous or quick. In fact it is slow enough that a living target would feel the excruciating pain of there body being slowly torn apart not just where the cut off would end up being when it's stopped or ended. It should be noted that once she takes something in the recharge time can vary from 20 seconds (Really small object) to 15 minutes (IF she were to intake a full capacity) and then the time to change the matter into what she desires anywhere from 15 seconds to 10 minutes depending on how similar an object is to the desired material and also the amount she has to change. Origins/History: Born in Paris Angelina was born to a fairly rich family and was allowed to do nearly whatever she wanted for her early life up until she was about eight when her parents were murdered in their home. She would have died too if not for the house catching fire causing the murderer to flee before he found her. This didn't hinder Angelina though, well emotionally it got her down for a bit, but she continued on trusting that God would guide her life. After three more years when she turned 11 Angelina being the head of the family decided she wanted to try and live in America for a few years. This was due to not wanting the pressure of media she recieved in France at such a young age. Once she was in America she hid who she was really not letting people know she had plenty of money and had it really good even without her parents around. This when the French media caught on to her move one of her care takers helped her change her identity at the age of 13 and from there she was finally home free! Then another accident happened. While on a trip her caretaker died in a climbing accident while Angelina was on her own at the age of 16 leaving her completely alone in life, other than her friends at school and that she'd made around the town. The problem was no one knew who she really was anymore. Only she knew her secret, and then Angelina was involved in her own accident. She had always been interested in science due to that being part of her families business and why she had all this money, so she decided to visit a genetics research lab. They had been testing a new toxin capable of altering a personals DNA, but they weren't sure what it would do. Well unlucky for everyone there they got to be the test subjects. A gas line exploded inside the compound exposing everyone inside that part of the building to the toxin. Most died from genetic defects afterwards, others ruined for life with mental illnesses, some were just changed...They were different...Angelina was one of these people. The doctors had no idea who she was or anything. When she came to she didn't remember anything about herself either. She had amnesia, and on top of that several bodily injuries some of which they weren't sure if she would ever recover from them. When a doctor tried to explain what was happening and how she may never fully function again Angelina got so upset. The doctor place and hand on her arm and she ended up grabbing his arm and suddenly he started to disappear into her hand. All of her wounds were healing and after they were healed she grew bright white angel wings which wrapped around her protectively. After the government was informed she was taken away so that they could figure out what to do with her. Thus the obvious answer was suggested and followed through with...MetaOps... Personality: Since the amnesia Angelina is quite confused. She understands that she killed the doctor on accident and had to be punished somehow, but everything was just so confusing. Thus she believes anything anyone tells her for the most part and follows orders without question. Basically the mission is all that matters to her and she almost thinks like a child not knowing right or wrong fully. She means well in all of her actions though, even if it might hurt someone.
56,186	1,537	44	451	960	Edit!: Put OOC thing here Originally...	Real Name: Unknown (Known by Angelica or Angelina due to what she does with her powers) Age: 17 Gender: Female Nationality: French Powers: Matter reconfiguration: Angelica's power in a nut shell is quite simple, yet highly complex. Her body is capable of deconstructing any living, or non living, thing to it's base matter by absorbing it into her body through her hands. The amount in which see can take in is limited to her own size. At this point her body can transform the matter into any kind she desires it to become. Then once taken in her body can produce anything of equal matter from any part of her body. The conditions for this ability are very intriguing though. If she takes in a tree for example, a living thing, then she must produce something that in someway is connected to her body that is also usable like another arm, wings, or maybe internal organs to heal herself. If it's something that wasn't alive then it can't give her anything like the above mentioned. Instead it would have to produce something like armor, a gun, or maybe a glass dove if she really wanted! The biggest thing though is making sure she has equal matter of any kind. It should also be noted that a black hole appears on her palms when she uses this so whatever she's taking in is literally torn apart on a molecular level. It should be noted that this process is time consuming and is not instantaneous or quick. In fact it is slow enough that a living target would feel the excruciating pain of there body being slowly torn apart not just where the cut off would end up being when it's stopped or ended. It should be noted that once she takes something in the recharge time can vary from 20 seconds (Really small object) to 15 minutes (IF she were to intake a full capacity) and then the time to change the matter into what she desires anywhere from 15 seconds to 10 minutes depending on how similar an object is to the desired material and also the amount she has to change. Origins/History: Born in Paris Angelina was born to a fairly rich family and was allowed to do nearly whatever she wanted for her early life up until she was about eight when her parents were murdered in their home. She would have died too if not for the house catching fire causing the murderer to flee before he found her. This didn't hinder Angelina though, well emotionally it got her down for a bit, but she continued on trusting that God would guide her life. After three more years when she turned 11 Angelina being the head of the family decided she wanted to try and live in America for a few years. This was due to not wanting the pressure of media she recieved in France at such a young age. Once she was in America she hid who she was really not letting people know she had plenty of money and had it really good even without her parents around. This when the French media caught on to her move one of her care takers helped her change her identity at the age of 13 and from there she was finally home free! Then another accident happened. While on a trip her caretaker died in a climbing accident while Angelina was on her own at the age of 16 leaving her completely alone in life, other than her friends at school and that she'd made around the town. The problem was no one knew who she really was anymore. Only she knew her secret, and then Angelina was involved in her own accident. She had always been interested in science due to that being part of her families business and why she had all this money, so she decided to visit a genetics research lab. They had been testing a new toxin capable of altering a personals DNA, but they weren't sure what it would do. Well unlucky for everyone there they got to be the test subjects. A gas line exploded inside the compound exposing everyone inside that part of the building to the toxin. Most died from genetic defects afterwards, others ruined for life with mental illnesses, some were just changed...They were different...Angelina was one of these people. The doctors had no idea who she was or anything. When she came to she didn't remember anything about herself either. She had amnesia, and on top of that several bodily injuries some of which they weren't sure if she would ever recover from them. When a doctor tried to explain what was happening and how she may never fully function again Angelina got so upset. The doctor place and hand on her arm and she ended up grabbing his arm and suddenly he started to disappear into her hand. All of her wounds were healing and after they were healed she grew bright white angel wings which wrapped around her protectively. After the government was informed she was taken away so that they could figure out what to do with her. Thus the obvious answer was suggested and followed through with...MetaOps... Personality: Since the amnesia Angelina is quite confused. She understands that she killed the doctor on accident and had to be punished somehow, but everything was just so confusing. Thus she believes anything anyone tells her for the most part and follows orders without question. Basically the mission is all that matters to her and she almost thinks like a child not knowing right or wrong fully. She means well in all of her actions though, even if it might hurt someone.
56,187	1,537	45	2,096	5,087	Michelle winced as multiple people were struck by the Immortal. The "trap him in a wall" tactic seemed to work for a moment, but it was only a matter of time until he broke free. Michelle had been careful to maintain a safe distance, but she couldn't stand not doing anything while her team was putting in the effort and taking the hits. Michelle took out a pair of earplugs, which she always kept with her in case of firefights, and put them on. She would especially need then now. Taking a second to aim, Michelle fired her gun, the bullets merely bouncing off the back of Immortal. If he felt them, he didn't seem to show any sign of it. As to be expected, of course. Michelle then ran towards him, firing short bursts at a time. Bullets went flying, and the Immortal turned around to see what was causing the disturbance. At the same time, though, Michelle was pulling the pin off a flashbang and tossing it towards him. Michelle turned away to avoid experiencing the worst effects of the flashbang as it exploded. She had no idea how effective that would be, but she doubted the Immortal would be completely immune against it.	Code Name: Widowmaker Real Name: Michelle Kine Age: 27 Gender: Female Nationality: American Powers: None. She is a normal human through and through. Instead, she has these talents: -Sharpshooter: Michelle is a master with virtually any firearm one could come up with. Pistols, sniper rifles, grenade launchers, you name it, she can use it. -Battle instincts: honed through a lifetime of fighting both normals and super humans, Michelle both reacts and recovers more quickly than most. -Fist fighting: Just because she uses firearms so much doesn't mean she doesn't know how to fight without one. Origins/History: Michelle grew up in a rough neighborhood. Gangs controlled the streets, and not even the police did anything about them; in fact, some were even bribed to keep their noses out of the conflict. As a result, little Michelle had to learn how to fend for herself. It certainly wasn't easy, especially since she was a girl. In time, though, she earned a reputation among the gangs so they knew not to bother her. Of course, things took a turn for the worse when she encountered a gang leader who was a super human. She fought hard, but she ultimately could not contend. Before she faced complete defeat, however, she was fortunate enough to have another super human interfere in the fight and save her. Michelle was too proud at first to express her thanks, but they eventually became good friends. When they grew up, they enlisted in the military. The two went through tough times, both in the field and at home, but they were inseparable. At least, until one day, when two were caught by surprise and Michelle's friend died in the firefight by another super human. Michelle had quickly killed the one who had done the deed, but it did little to ease the pain of the loss. Shortly after, Michelle was approached with the offer to join MetaOps, which Michelle accepted. Personality: Michelle has a hard look in her eyes, as if she had seen terrible things. She's also not the most chatty person either. However, the look can soften, and a kinder personality will show. In a fight, there's no one else you would have to stay by your side, and will stay by you if your death slowly approaches.
56,188	1,537	46	1,404	5,009	Alexander Ziker - MicWiz Alex's plan worked, but not to the extent that he hoped on would. Unfortunately, things went wrong quickly, the radioactivity spread thought the body of the Immortal, but it enraged him. He looked back at Alex, rage etched into his ageless features, he had proclaimed that he would end his life. For once in his life, Alex did not have a snappy remark, for once in his life he stood still, afraid, shell shocked, he didn't even have the presence of mind to build himself a shied to even try to save his own life. Suddenly, the Immortal slowed to a halt, as if he was being held back by an invisible force. He could barely hear Witch yell at him to move away, in an instant, the Immortal was focused on Witch. He quickly snapped her neck, and continued his rampage to the reactor. How could he kill so easily? That could have been him, but she took the hit for him, how...could he have been so stupid? It was all his fault that she was dead, despite only knowing her for a few hours, the pain he felt from her death made him feel like he knew her forever. Gloria and Michelle quickly ran to her body, but he remained glued in place, staring at the back of the Immortal. The whole scene contsatly replaying over and over again. This was the life of a Meta was it, losing the ones who had an impact on you, big or small, and dealing with the pain. He hated it, hated it, hated it all, but Alex kept his rage under wraps. He took deep breaths as he walked over to the body of Witch. He created a platform that lifted her body of the ground, about 4 feet of the ground. "Thanks." Aelx mumbled as he walked towards the reactor. Inside was the Elementist, who was trying to hold the monster in place, but it was useless. He broke out of the concrete and smashed his fist into the Chemira. Alex summoned a giant pink teddy bear, he chaught the Chiemria before any damage could be done. It was quickly dispelled and remade, it was a golem, this time, this ones blade was an energy coauted' pink sword, with a long steel pipe at its core. "Attack." He mumbled and the golem bounded twords the Immortal, and brought the blade down onto The Immortal. Because of the steel in the middle, the blade had become radioactive. In turn the radiation in the Immortals body would be attracted to the blades. It would most likely pierce him because of this, if it did not, Alex had a shield conjered for his golem just in case.	Code Name: MicWiz Real Name: Alexander Ziker Age: 24 Nationality: Caucasian Powers: Energy Constructs Alex can create tools, weapons and other objects from Energy. He can create any can imagine but has to have a good idea how it functions. His constricts can be broken if the amount of force that is applied is greater than the amount the user's imagination can produce. Alexander can use this ability through a wand with a glowing, pink colored, diamonds shaped object on the top. His energy constructs are all colored neon pink. Origins: Alex grew up in a fairly normal environment. Despite having to raise a child as a single parent, his mother still did her best to give her child what he wanted. There was never a shortage of fun when it came to spending fun with his mother. Alex never knew his father, and truly never cared to ask about him. His mother did all she could to be a mother and a father to her son. She had the privilege of having a well paying job a computer programmer, giving her the opportunity to work at home, and spend time with her child. Alex was never a straight A student, but he did what he could in school. Alex was fortunate enough to get into a good collage. Unfortunately, Alex struggled with school, stress angered him, but he hid it with humor. To make things worse, his mother was starting to have health problems. Alex was slowly getting depressed, and for the first time in his life he wished he had a father. The was the lowest point in his life, once he hit his Jr. Year, Alex barely went to school anymore. His mother could not do anything to help her son, since she had a hard time even helping herself. This was the time when hour begin to develop his powers. Alex retreated to his imagination during this time, hopping to escape from the world around him, maybe to unwind. When what he thought up came into existence, he was astonished, disappointed that it was pink, but was amazed. He showed his mother this power, but when she saw it, she was not amazed, instead, she was horrified. She contacted the authorities and he was taken into custody. Alex was soon handed over to MetaOps, since then he has been trained to control his ability. Learn how it works, widen and make more use of his imagination, he will soon be ready to be sent out. Unfortunately, Alex still has mixed feelings about his mother. Personality: Alex is easygoing, upbeat, energetic, funny, flirty and loves to tell jokes, even if they aren't funny. Alex is genuinely very intelligent and honest, and cares about his friends and family. He sometimes doesn't think before reacting and he enjoys pulling pranks on people, especially those who he doesn't like. Despite his jokey attitude, Alex has been shown to have a serious side, which happens when he is angered by someone or when the situation calls for it.
56,189	1,537	47	2,428	4,480	Nevada, USA Jun Li "Hopper" Shi & Sylvia “Strato” Häyhä Vegas. Truly one of the more grand things Hopper'd seen in his time travelling around while he was on leave. Vacation was something that virtually every man needed, especially the type of men who served in MetaOps. Solving problems that not even the regular U.S. Military could handle was exhausting, dangerous, and hazardous. Not to mention the drill sergeant somehow managed to make a man with no legs run himself ragged. Literally. But, this wasn't a trip of pleasantry or relaxation: The stop of Vegas only served as a point to pick Hopper up at descretely, to bring him to the government facility surrounded in infamy and mystery. Area 51. He wasn't entirely sure why he was going, but he lived under the orders of MetaOps, and it wasn't like they would ambush him; MetaOps has had the schematics and blueprints for Hopper's legs for years. Stepping out of the car as the government compound was reached, Hopper removed his luggage from the backseat, unzipping his sizeable duffle bag and pulling out his signature helmet, donning it in a moment's notice. Without even asking, or questioning why, he was lead onto what he could only assume was the latest innovation in air force technology; that being a really, really huge plane. Walking aboard the cargo ramp with his bag in tow, Hopper hummed to himself, admiring the advanced nature of the plane's interior. Looking around, he called out: "...Excuse me, who is flying this vessel?" A few seconds later, a woman wearing an impressive flight suit and helmet came jogging down the stairs just ahead. It seemed more like a space suit, rather than a flight suit. "Ah! You must be..." She trailed off, "Um... I got this, just wait." Behind Hopper, the cargo ramp began to close on its own and the engined roared, the plane began to move. A male robotic voice suddenly cut in, "Operative Jun Li Shi, known as 'Hopper'." The woman made an audible 'Ah!' and walked up to Hopper and forcefully shook his hand. "I'm your pilot today, call me Strato. Don't ask why I'm called that, come on, come on." She introduced herself quickly before letting go and walking up the staircase. Hopper, completely caught off-guard by just about everything that happened in under a minute, just opted to roll with it and followed along, forgetting even to properly introduce himself until it hit him halfway through their flight. The two went up to the cockpit, then turned and went up another short flight of stairs, which lead up to the second floor of the plane. By now was already in the sky. That same robotic voice announced that they had taken off, and that it would take roughly 20 minutes to reach cruising altitude and speed. Strato sat herself down on one of the many chairs in the rather dark room and started clacking away at a keyboard. "Cruising altitude is 30 kilometers in the sky, and cruising speed should be something like Mach 5." She explained excitedly. "Correct." The plane replied, a whir was heard and then a loud clank, "Eye retracted." It announced. "This thing is a marvel of engineering." She almost yelled, every screen in the room flickered to life, filling the room with light with dozens of moniters. "Thank you." The plane replied to the compliment. She pointed down the hall, "There's a kitchen down the hall to your right. Should be some juice in the fridge, and some nuts or something in the cabinets. Help yourself. I have to..." She trailed off again into mumbles. Hopper simply nodded, figuring that it'd be best to leave any matters relating to how the plane was talking simply as it just being some sort of computer system, possibly put in place in the event of the pilot going unconscious. Or that the pilot needed a co-pilot. Regardless, Hopper opted to eat before they landed, given that wherever they were going, it'd be a while, even by plane if they needed to drop him from a plane this advanced. Returning with a simple bowl of cashews, Hopper looked around at all the screens in the room, wondering what the point of having so many was. Not wanting to disturb the pilot, Hopper decided to go back down to the cargo bay and eat his bowl of nuts, putting his helmet on his lap as he ate. Once he was done eating his light appetizer, Hopper unloaded his duffle bag, and headed back into the kitchen, then into the bathroom to suit up. His deep green kevlar vest rested under a green forest camoflauge jacket, metal bracers covering his forearms and fists. Cracking his neck by rolling it, Hopper wrapped his scarf around his neck and walked back out, heading back to the cockpit. "Ms. Strato, what is our ETA?" She pressed some more keys on her keyboard and in front of her, the screen switched to a sattelite view of what appeared to be a nuclear plant. She looked at her watch and wait for a couple of seconds, "We will arrive at the AO in about 18 minutes. Which is here." She then pointed at the screen. "Crystal River Nuclear, in Florida." The screen zoomed in and then switched to thermal vision, seeing through the walls there were 13 signatures. 12 of them had blinkers, and one of the people with the blinkers wasn't moving. Strato tapped the chin of her helmet several times. "That one is dead." Crossing his arms, Hopper said: "Dead? Good god...what it takes to kill a Meta...this is serioust now. I didn't get a chance to overlook the entire report, but, is there any chance you can brief me on the full situation yourself? All I was told was that a Meta is trying to overload the plant..." Strato nervously chuckled and rubbed the back of her neck, looking at Hopper, "I was never given a uh... Report. I was just given a destination and an order to fire up the engines. I'm actually on the 8th day, 15th hour in this team. Not quite sure what we do exactly." She looked at the screen again, "Looks like the team, the ones with the blinkers, is on the defensive. Or they're observing a reaction. The target," She pointed to the white figure without a blinker, "Is still moving however." She zoomed the camera out a little, "Looks like they're inside of a building. We're going to have to drop you just outside of the building and you'll have to go in on foot." She looked at Hopper again, who was in his full combat attire and sort of just stared for a moment. "I assume you were trained with parachutes?" Furrowing his brow under his helmet, Hopper sighed slightly. "...Any chance your plane's AI could pull up the briefing documents? I need to know what I'm up against here..." And, softly chuckling to himself, he replied to her question with: "I assume you think I need one." She didn't quite know what he meant by that, merely letting out a quiet 'um'. On the screen next to the one with the sattelite view of the AO, the briefing appeared. "I'm not quite sure we had the clearance to access that file." Strato said aloud, "Me being the rookie AEW&C." "We did not. Security at MetaOps HQ is no match for me." The plane replied, a hint of pride in his robotic voice. Strato was a little worried at this. Her cargo didn't need a parachute, and her plane just hacked into HQ's files. Over Florida, USA. Inside the EX-4 Grey Owl. Jun Li "Hopper" Shi & Sylvia “Strato” Häyhä Hopper read over the file on the screen, and could only assume the worst from a man literally dubbed: 'The Immortal'. Reading over the description of him again and again, Hopper began to run the situations of how to handle this in his mind. From what he was seeing, the man had more than enough force in one hand than Hopper had in both legs...not to mention that he seemed nigh invulnerable. Stopping him with force wouldn't be an option. At best they could try to push him around, but he doubted he could even wound him. Then he mulled over the word 'depression' in his mind. He'd definitely been there before...and it got him to thinking. Thinking that maybe now was the time for him to do something dangerous, possibly even more dangerous than fighting the immortal man. Talking to him. Careful words could either settle the situation, or result in mass casualties. Violence against one of the strongest Metas he's ever read about seemed like a plan destined to fail, but words against a man who is suffering have more of a chance than enything else he could think of. Save for one thing. Abruptly, Hopper asked: "Are any packs of alcohol stored on this ship? I think I need to calm my nerves a bit..." While Hopper looked over the file, she glanced at it a couple of times as well. Flight? Incredible strength? Immortality? It was like she stumbled into a comic book. She scratched her helmet and wondered what she had gotten into. Hopper abruptly asked for some alcohol, given the dossiar of what he was going up against, it was understandable. "There's some Akvavit in the fridge." She replied, deciding to believe that Hopper really didn't need a chute, she told him as he was walking away to put on M33FX Backpack before he jumped. Without a second to waste, Hopper strode out of the room, barely in time to hear Strato tell him to put on a M33FX backpack prior to jumping, which he did find after he seized the bottle of akvavit. Slipping the metallic backpack onto his shoulders, Hopper lightly bounced on his toes once, before he lifted a foot up, rotating a single foot 360 degrees around from the joint. "...I can make that jump." Strato followed his path to the cargo bay, where the M33FX was at. Laying on a crate of supplies. She hadn't quite gotten fully unpacked yet, and she saw his foot rotate a full 360 degrees. She blinked twice. "Right." She simply said, she switched on the intercom so that she could speak to Hopper from her command center. "We'll be over the DZ in just over a minute. Speed is currently 312.2 kilometers per hour. When we're over the DZ it will be 270. Wind will be South South West 212 at 4.3 km/h." After that minute, the cargo bay doors began to open up. "Height is flying low at 600 meters. Happy hunting." The teams' communications crackled to life, "Reinforcements are here." With one final salute to Strato, Hopper literally jumped out of the cargo bay of the plane, barreling downward towards the nuclear reactor. 1...2...Falling was fast, surprisingly so, yet it seemed to take so long...5...6...He wondered if the large bottle in his hand would shatter from the impact of his landing...9...10...God, did he wish that drank some of that booze before hand...13...14...Suddenly, a sound rang out in the immediate area, just a second before impact. "Reinforcements have arrived." he called out on the radio channels, the sound resonating around as the dust cloud settled, Hopper's back straightening as he stood up all the way. His hips shuddered before settling, his body remaining still for a moment before he examined the bottle. Still intact. This plan just might work...or get him killed.	Code Name: Hopper Real Name: Jun Li Shi (Just goes by Jun, for your convenience and mine.) Age: 27 Gender: Male Nationality: Hong Kong Chinese Powers: Advanced Robotic Lower Body: Jun’s lower body has been completely replaced with mechanical implants that go well beyond military grade, giving him the capabilities to run faster, longer, and harder than any normal human being alive. He can also jump absurd heights and distances, survive falls from immense heights due to the stabilizers in his feet and hips, and knees. His kicks have more than enough force to shatter and bend materials such as concrete, weaker metals up to iron, and human bones. Needless to say, getting kicked by him is beyond painful. Helmet: Jun’s helmet is more than just a shield for his face, in the eyes it contains infrared, night vision, and heat scanning lenses that allow him to see better in almost any situations, provided he has his helmet. Given that he needs to communicate with the team often, he has had a communications system installed into his helmet. There’s also a sub-sonic speaker implemented into the neck that everyone but Jun can hear, that emits a particular noise... Origin: Born in the city of Hong Kong in 1988, Jun was born into a loving family as the only child to a biomedical engineer and architect, his mother and father respectively, nine years before the transfer of sovereignty to the People’s Republic of China. Even after the transfer of power occurred, Jun lived a rather happy life with his family, showing a great amount of intelligence even at a young age, even fully learning Cantonese, Mandarin, and English by the time he entered high school. Everything was going well for them, especially his mother since the Department of Mechanical Engineering of Hong Kong provided her project with additional funding, one which would give veteran amputees access to advanced prosthetic limbs to help them live their lives normally once more. Such advanced robotic prosthetics could have shaped the future of the world, given a man who lost his limbs the chance to hug his family again, to walk with them once more, and to fully reintegrate into society with fully functioning limbs. At least, that was how it should have gone. Three months before the final model of the limbs were completed, Jun, age 19, was just walking. A normal day in his normal life. Literally nothing was out of the ordinary, the wind was calm, the sun was out, the light to walk was on. But someone didn’t see. Ironic as it was that his future was all decided by something that could have happened to anyone, he was struck by a speeding car, driven by a drunk man he’d never even met. God was playing a joke that wasn’t funny to him. Immediately after being admitted to the hospital, the doctors were forced to amputate his legs, as every bone and tendon in them were crushed under the bumper and wheels of the vehicle. Were it not for his mother’s technology, Jun never would have walked again. Implementing the greatest advancements in prosthetic limbs, his mother fitted Jun with the prototype model of the AAMA, the Amputee Assistance Movement Apparatus, and, after two months of rehabilitation and adjustment, Jun was able to walk again. Being fitted with artificial hips and a conjoined segment of his spine, his legs worked even better than his original, he could run farther, and longer than ever, and he didn’t even feel tired after running half a marathon. It finally seemed like he was going to get his peaceful life back...all thanks to his mother. Just when things were looking up, and the AAMA was about to be ready for use in hospitals, the funding was mysteriously and anonymously cut entirely, leaving his mother outraged and angry. Of course, Jun himself was outraged as well. The very thing keeping him walking was being denied to people who would really need it, people whose lives it could restore in just a few months. Still...what could he and his family do? They were subject to the government above all else, and as such couldn’t really protest against where the funding was going. That was, until his mother was forcibly relocated to Shanghai. Jun and his father were even forbidden to see her, and, after a month, both started to worry. A month turned into 3, then into half a year as they simply recieved letters, letters from the government that were supposedly written by Jun’s mother. Yet, more than anyone, his father knew something was wrong. Stepping back a year, Jun had received a scholarship to the Hong Kong University of Medical Science himself, and had a year’s worth of hands-on experience tinkering with his own legs. Metal legs, strong, cold, unyielding...powerful, to say the least. Angered by what might have happened, Jun grew tired of living under a government that would deprive the world of the knowledge his mother could offer, a world where everyone could walk. Donning a disguise using an old, discarded Yamaha motorcycle helmet with the visor painted black, he put his modified legs to use on his (technically) terrorist rampage of breaking into government facilities in Shanghai, all in the purpose of finding out just what the government was up to. Though he never hurt anybody, Jun soon became wanted throughout all of China for crimes of treason against the government...though it was under a new name. A name given by a journalist who witnessed one of his now famous 30 ft. jumps using his robotic legs to clear the distance of two skycrapers in one bound. Quickly being dubbed: “The GrassHopper” the media took to shortening it to simply “Hopper” as he continued, uncaring of the consequences of his actions. That was, until, he actually found his mother. Jun had been captured before he knew what hit him...ameteur vigilantism didn’t exactly mean you were subtle, or could hide for long, and in his case, that meant that the government kicked his door down and arrested him. A day before he was to be executed, he had a strange encounter with a man who’d saved his mother, and escorted her and his father out of the country already. With new resolve, Jun joined MetaOps under the moniker of Hopper, ready to serve under the U.S. government as payment for saving his own, and his family’s lives. Personality: Jun personality wise is a pretty straight forward type of guy, not really the type to mince words or beat around the bush when something needs saying. Still, he has a decent sense of how others feel about things and is very sympathetic, willing to listen if someone is willing to talk. For how upbeat he is, a defeat can really get Jun down in the dumps, and he somewhat feels inadequate compared to most members of MetaOps, given that his defining ability is just that he’s a double amputee with robot legs to substitute a wheelchair. Still, he’s a pretty cool guy to talk to. Appearance:
56,190	1,537	48	952	2,710	The Immortal continued his slow walk to the Reactor Room, a door was the only obstacle in his path, until Bright Angel appeared in his path. He hadn't even noticed her at all before. What could she possibly do if she had been sitting out the entire fight until now? It did not matter, a child couldn't possibly do any harm to him. The Immortal would have simply pushed through her if it hadn't been for the intervention of Widowmaker. The feeling of bullets ricocheting off his back bugged him enough that he turned to see what was making his back itch. Widowmaker's flash bang was the only thing he saw, though. The blinding light disoriented him enough that he got turned around and began moving away from the Reactor Room instead of towards it. When The Immortal finally began regain his sight, MicWiz's pink golem greeted him with a large blade. The Immortal felt the impact against his skin, but nothing more. He clenched his fist and uppercut the construct. The attack was so powerful that it blew the golem burst into pieces on impact. Crosscut continued to watch as The Immortal continued his path of destruction. He felt helpless as he saw his teammates get figuratively torn apart by the powerful meta, though it wouldn't be much of a stretch to use the phrase literally if the battle continued. Crosscut couldn't even imagine how teammates like Widowmaker and Freyja felt. Speaking of Freyja, Crosscut hoped that her healing ability hadn't been too much of an exaggeration seeing how viciously The Immortal had struck her. Crosscut began contemplating trying to teleport as many of his teammates as possible back to base. He had already lost one and he didn't plan on losing anymore. Then he heard a familiar voice sound over the radio, "Reinforcements are here." A sudden crash later and there stood Hopper. At this point, any help was welcome. The Immortal was distracted by the new meta that stood before him, forgetting again about getting rid of MicWiz. "And what are you going to do?" he asked Hopper.	Code Name: Witch Real Name: Samantha Choi Age: 24 Gender: Female Nationality: Korean-American Powers: Witch has telekinesis, similar to having an extra pair of long, strong, invisible arms. Limited to a range of twenty meters, the strength of her telekinesis is directly related to Witch’s physical strength and fatigue. The more in shape she is, the more weight she can carry. However, her telekinesis does not simply extend her reach; the weight she can carry through telekinesis versus how much she can normally carry is multiplied by a factor of ten. If Witch can lift up a one hundred pound object with her hands, she can lift a one thousand pound object through telekinesis. Other notes about her “arms”: Witch must be able to see what she is trying to carry. Her telekinesis can also be used to lift herself up, giving the impression she can fly or float. Finally, her “arms” are not only good for carrying things, but also smashing or tearing things. Again, they are like invisible arms, so anything a normal person could do with their arms, she can do with her extra ones. Origins/History: Samantha had a fairly privileged life prior to joining MetaOps. She attended college for a major in physics, but Sam still found enough free time to party almost every weekend (except for during midterms and finals. Nobody parties during midterms and finals). She didn’t get into any trouble during college, however, and graduated at 22 with a stellar GPA. After graduation, however, things got a little difficult. Sam had trouble finding a job, so she got on the next flight to Korean and stayed at her grandparents’ house in Seoul. It was in Seoul that Sam realized that she could pick things up from a distance, something she swore she couldn’t do beforehand. She began toying with her newfound power in the safety of her own home, slowly getting accustomed to using her extra arms. Sam began to piece together the details of her power; their effective distance, their strength, and how they related to her strength. It didn’t take long for her grandparents to find out she had telekinesis. After long deliberation, they ultimately decided to turn Sam in to the authorities. Sam refused, running from her grandparents’ home out of fear. However, Sam’s inherent recklessness kept getting her into trouble. She would abuse her power to try to steal from stores in order to survive on the streets of Seoul. For several months, Sam got along nicely in Seoul. However, her luck eventually ran out, and a shopkeeper noticed that he was being robbed. Sam managed to escape, but the security footage didn’t lie. The shopkeeper alerted the government right away. As soon as the guns started to be waved at Sam, she surrendered. She was held in isolation for several days while the Korean officials decided what to do with her. Ultimately, she was handed over to the US government and given to MetaOps. For her first year at MetaOps, much of her time was devoted to strengthening her powers and learning their limits, as well as extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. Sam found that she was a quick learner in hand-to-hand and quickly excelled. She’s no expert, but she’s pretty damn good at it. After that first year, Witch was deemed ready to go out into the field, and has since spent a year operating for MetaOps. Personality: Sam’s primary trait is that she is absolutely curious about everything. If she doesn’t know something to a satisfactory degree, Sam will question anyone she can until she does. However, her curiosity comes with a downside. Her inquisitive nature often leads to strong cynicism, so she finds herself questioning people’s motives more often than she’d like to admit to. Not to say that Sam is an absolute cynic. She still considers herself fortunate that MetaOps picked her up from the Korean government and that she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life in a prison or lab somewhere, and Sam keeps that in mind at all times. She has utmost respect for authority within MetaOps and has fierce loyalty to the division. For the most part, Sam thinks in a procedural, rational manner, but it doesn’t take much for her to lose her cool. She’s young, she’s reckless, and MetaOps often finds itself having to clean up after her or reprimand her actions or rein her in. Appearance: Sam is small and unseeming, standing at only 5’4, but the nature of her power requires her to stay in excellent physical condition. She’s short, but she’s tough, and has a strong, muscular body to make up for her size. As for her other features, Sam has bleached and dyed her naturally black hair into a beach blonde color, wearing it in a medium-length ponytail. She wears thick frame glasses over her dark brown eyes which she replaces with contacts when she is sent on a mission. Speaking of which, her mission attire is a completely black, full-body jumpsuit, with pockets scattered over her legs in various sizes to carry a multitude of things. In addition to this, Sam wears military-grade combat boots and gloves and is more often than not found wearing a different kind of hat on her head. thank you for this image! Sam in her suit (minus the goggles) (the idea for Sam’s power was most definitely inspired by both Chronicle and Elfen Lied. in fact, I might as well have taken a carbon copy from both of them and placed it here, so you could most definitely refer to those if you want a clearer picture of Sam’s power!)
56,191	1,537	49	1,884	334	The major continued to watch the battle but the outcome was already pretty clear. The team would not be able to subdue The Immortal with force. As individuals, they where all to weak and as team. Well, there was nothing that would indicate MetaOps had send in a team. There was just a group of individuals who failed to work together. When they would return Carnage would have to go all out in order to mold the survivors into a well functioning team. For now, Major Stone just focused on the battle and how each individual agent performed. From what he saw there was a stunning lack of leadership and communication. Not to mention that ego's collided in the face of defeat. The team was more busy with squabbling with each other then actually stopping The Immortal. All of them seemed to lose control and any form of cohesion in the unit was absent. Continuing this fight would be a pointless exercise if no one showed up who could lead the team and resolve the situation. The major once again turned towards the Director. "You should recruit The Immortal, sir. He does a better job than those pathetic weaklings you've send out to stop him." Joked the Major about the fact that Crosscut and his team got their ass kicked and where powerless in their attempts to save the nuclear reactor. It would be interesting to see if Hopper could do anything to change the situation. It would be an inconvenience if they all just got themselves killed. Then MetaOps would need to recruit a lot of new members. For the moment the Major continued to watch how this team performed. If they managed to survive this, there might be some hope for them to survive training. For now, the major could only watch and wait. His work would start when the team returns to base.	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,192	1,537	50	2,725	212	Izzy's only reaction to the transformed Drake's question was a slight, unconvincing nod. She took an extra step forward, to be certain that she was the closest to The Immortal. That was all she was good for; she just had to hope that once The Immortal broke free, he targeted her first to give David and Drake an extra moment to react. Her palms began to sweat as she imagined the pain she'd experience if her plan -- if it could even be called that -- went off as intended. She didn't want to go through that, but she didn't have any choice. She'd just hate herself more if others were killed. Inevitably, The Immortal broke out. All Izzy had time to do was take another step forward -- before a freighter ran into her. The girl was thrown back several dozen feet, head snapping forward. When the pain finally registered, she tried to scream, only to find herself completely winded. After a full second of air time, her heel caught the floor, sending her into a violent backwards tumble, limbs getting caught and twisted unnaturally. Mercifully, she eventually came to a stop in a crumpled heap, her cheek against the ground and her body stinging from friction burns. She tried breathing, but that wasn't so easy with a collapsed chest and blood filling her mouth. This was the worse shape she had ever been in, while still being alive and conscious. Silent sobs wracked her body, as she looked to David and Drake with unfocused eyes. They both seemed okay, which was nice to know. She had done her job, right? She could give up on this mission, now. She had to make the pain stop. Izzy tried moving her right arm, but nothing happened. Deciding it must have been dislocated or something, she tried her left. Pain shot up it and into her spine, but she continued forcing it to move, reaching for her pistol, planning on shooting herself in the head. Good... night... Perhaps thankfully, her body gave up on her before she could. The effort and pain of moving, along with her inability to breathe, was enough to make her unconscious. Her last thought before she went under sent another wave of panic through her: if The Immortal succeeded and caused a nuclear explosion, would she wake up this time? A few minutes after having that terrifying thought, Izzy died again.	Appearance: Code Name: Freyja Real Name: Isabelle "Izzy" Winters Age: 20 Gender: Female Nationality: British-Canadian Powers: Some sort of entity inhabits Izzy's body alongside her. This spirit hasn't displayed the ability to take control of her body, and can do no more than occasionally whisper into her mind. It does, however, make Izzy immortal. Any injury that the girl sustains, no matter how severe, will heal itself nearly instantly after a long delay. The delay depends on the severity of the wound, and will generally be several hours long. This regeneration will activate even if Izzy is dead, and will bring her back to life, only slightly worse for wear. What Izzy's power does not do is nullify pain in any way. Getting shot will still hurt her. A lot. Power Origin: The eight-year-old Izzy had just woken up from a nightmare. The same one she had had every night, without fail, for the past two years. In it, she would wake up not in her own bed, but her mothers. With neither of her parents in sight, she would hop off the tall bed and exit into the hallway. Walking down it would take far longer than it did in real life. Eventually, she would make it to her dark kitchen and tiptoe around the table, every step taking her closer to the stairs that lead to the basement. And she would stand there, staring in horror, as the door creaked open, revealing a rotting, human figure. Its face was a mess, with no distinguishable human features, its skin was loose and grey, and its limbs were too long and ended in clawed hands and feet. It would climb up towards her, and she knew she should run, but she could never move. It would reach her, and grab hold of her. And then it would slash at her stomach. Any normal nightmare of Izzy's would have ended right there, but this one continued. The creature would tear the helpless girl apart, and no matter how mutilated she became, she wouldn't die. She would lay there in terror, and in unimaginable pain, waiting for the creature to stop. Which it would, eventually. After it had had its fill of fun, it would take one last, blank look at the girl's eyes, before slowly turning and crawling back down to the basement. The young girl shivered under her covers, a cold sweat covering her. After spending an hour calming herself down, telling herself it was only a dream, she fell asleep again, knowing her ordeal for the night was over. That morning, she decided she had had enough. Gathering her courage over a few hours, she made her way to the basement stairs while her parents were outside, enjoying the summer sun. Izzy had always made a point of avoiding the basement when not with her parents, but today, she desperately wanted to prove to herself that there was nothing to be scared of. Clutching the fabric of her shirt at her chest, she took the first step down -- and tripped over a shoe. She tumbled down violently, landing at the base of the stairs, in too much shock to make any noise. Pain and nausea swept across her small body, and she fought to focus her eyes. Panic set in as she realized she couldn't move and that her body was twisted in ways that it shouldn't have been. As life left her, her eyes darted around, desperate for help. And then she saw it. The creature from her nightmare. It stood in the short hallway, only a few feet from her, looking down at her small frame. It crouched down and touched her cheek, and she could feel its cold skin. She had seen it hundreds of times in her mind, but this was too much. The wave of terror that hit her was what finally caused her to lose consciousness. When she came to, she was in an Intensive Care Unit, surrounded by a doctor and a few nurses who stared down at her in disbelief. They all started up at the same time, running around the room chaotically. Through it all, only one thing was clear to Izzy. A raspy voice. Hel... lo. Her head groggy, the next hours were a blur. Tests were run on her, confirming that all her injuries were healed. Realizing Izzy was a meta-human, the doctors let the government know. As she was so young, no action beyond covering up the event was done. Instead, her parents were told that when Izzy was of age, she would be brought into the military. History: With her life set from the beginning, Izzy had no real cares or worries during her teen years. The hardest thing she endured in her life, other than that voice in her head, was moving from Edmonton to Montreal when she was 13, but she adjusted quickly to the new city, and even picked up a little french. She didn't have to overachieve in school, nor work part-time jobs to pay for tuitions. Instead, she made sure to enjoy herself. While not a natural thrill-seeker, she did plenty of stupid stuff, knowing she didn't have to fear death. It's enough to say that she woke up in a puddle of her own dried blood more than a few times. The pain was the worst part. Most of the time, she would either pass out quickly from it or just die, which was always ideal, but a couple times she had to lay in agony for hours until her ability kicked in. Having that happen was always her biggest fear, and the only reason why she wasn't out enjoying herself all the time. When not out and about, Izzy ate up any sort of media that involved an immortal character. For obvious reasons, she couldn't get enough. Between those two and socializing, she saw no point in making much of an effort in her school work. She got by without too much trouble though never reached her potential. The day came where Izzy turned 18. She wasn't sure whether she was happy about that or not. On one hand, being a superhero and fighting to save people seemed awesome, though she worried that she had romanticized that idea over the years. On the other, her easy, fun life was over. Knowing that worrying about it would change nothing, she had a tearful goodbye with her parents before being driven off and told she would be part of MetaOps. Not being very good at the whole military-killing thing, it took a good year-and-a-half of training to get Izzy ready for her first mission. She died on that one. And the one after that. Personality: Izzy is sociable, if a little quiet. She enjoys spending time with people, but does act a little shy often. She tends to be very polite with people, and always has a smile on her face in an attempt to brighten other's days. Understandably, she doesn't put much value on her life, which is a good thing since that's basically in her job description. Despite having been hot stuff in her teen days, her confidence has been greatly dampened by the fact that she's extremely inexperienced compared to everyone around her. Not only that, but she seems to take longer than everyone else to pick things up. When she lets her mind wander, she tends to think that she's only kept around as cannon-fodder to keep other, better soldiers alive. She's mostly gotten over her habit of ignoring work, and tries her best to improve herself so that she can keep others safe. Or at least not bring them down.
56,193	1,537	51	1,449	5,936	Revel Though not present to witness the deed, Revel's precognition picked up Witch's death like an antennae. His mouth curled into a disgruntled frown. “That's going make us look awful.” Though the power to behold the girl's limp body, and vacuous eyes lay not within the spheres of his mind, the knowledge hurt enough. Despite an outward display of impersonal bravado, Revel acutely felt the tragedy of others. No sociopathy lurked within the pink folds of the string-pullers brain; if anything, emotion washed too powerfully upon him, when his restraint proved unable to staunch the flow. Putting it out of his mind, Revel instead grasped a slightly better idea of Hopper's imminent arrival, landing on the floor. “What a weird sound that'll make.” Knowing that the decisive confrontation would occur in the reactor room, Revel placed little faith in Hopper's ability to keep the Immortal out, put-upon as he was by the other Metaops agents. Preparations needed to be made for the fight within. Though Spectre's lightfooted tread made no noise, Revel turned on a dime and watched her approach. He had, after all, known that she would come. “You've been lucky so far in catching the Immortal off-guard, but it will take more sustained force than either of us can muster to force him into the chamber. Right now a soldier named Hopper has arrived, courtesy of the pilot Strato. I know from his appearance that his legs are cybernetic. I assume that they would have the strength to provide the necessary force. So yes, we'll go with your plan.” From his tone, even through his slight accent, it was clear that Revel took no pleasure in allowing someone else to take the limelight. “When he arrives, I will wait til he puts himself between me and the reactor pit. Then I'll grab him with my new whips, annoying him. Very tired of interruption by now, he'll grab the whips and pull, sending me flying down into the pit. Fortunately, I can charge my gauntlets to make them magnetic. Hopper, displeased at my apparent death, will run up and kick him, throwing him. It's up to you to attach yourself to him, make him intangible, and then jump off before he hits the reactor. I'll...catch you. There! Both of our plans together as one!” He winced as a painful-sounding impact resounded from upstairs. “Freyja's dead. Not permanent though.”	Code Name: Revel Real Name: Mòric Syg Age: 29 Gender: Male Nationality: Hungarian Powers: The only superpower Revel has is a limited form of precognition. Though he can't see the future, technically, Revel simply knows it. Knowledge from the future simply manifests in his brain, like a hidden memory suddenly provoked. Revel is able to identify that said information is from the future, as well as from how far forward it came. The longest he's ever been able to know something before its occurrence is two hours. After developing this power for a while, Revel realized that this knowledge comes from futures that can be, not futures that are, and grew to be able to figure out the consequences of certain actions before performing them. Revel wields two bracers that each contain lengths of cord. In response to certain nerve impulses, the cords can be extended, retracted, or electrified. This is not a power; merely a weapon. Origins/History: Though he was born in Hungary, Mòric's parents had no intention of keeping him there. The road to the United States was a hard one, but in the end the little family departed for the new world. They had heard tales of a land of opportunity, where even the poorest men could become legendary through the strength of their will and the work of their hands, but after arriving they found another side to the story altogether. Nowadays Revel remembers little, particularly the circumstances leading up to the defining event of his youth, but he keenly recalls the stinging abandonment. Though Revel inwardly suspects they couldn't take properly take care of him or provide for him, an acknowledged possibility is that they simply didn't want him after all. Luck smiled upon the fair-haired dark child, however, and a traveling carnival of dubious repute took him in. A childhood spent among such a wacky assembly greatly influenced his character; Revel learned hierarchy, trickery, theatricality, deception, and how to manipulate. As a teenager he served as the ringmaster, the youngest to date, introducing and playing a part with incredible feats to keep the crowd enthralled and its money in hand. In his spare time, he attended several schools as the circus traveled, getting expelled from one after another but never giving up his quest for knowledge. Revel's own psyche, already decidedly misaligned, continued down its skewed path. His ambitions and intellect reached far, far beyond entertainment. It was during this time that he realized he had supernatural ability to see a short way into the future, and without either questioning or hesitation he accepted his gift and put it to use. Years later, a new boss took over the carnival, despite the rumors of abductions and experimentation. Willow, daughter of a recent immigrant to the United States from Vietnam and a self-made woman, was determined to set the despicable community to rights. Slowly, her enlightening, positive influence and vast intelligence permeated every carny of the lot save one: Revel. After weeks in seclusion, avoiding his boss while devouring company funds at an incredible rate, he emerged from his mobile laboratory bedecked in strange clothes and wielding sinister technology. He approached Willow at her desk and let loose a swarm of nanites upon her. The microscopic swarm of robots integrated themselves with the woman from head to toe, placing her squarely under Revel's influence. Revel's first triumph catalyzed a wave of terror as the entire carnival collapsed, all resources heading straight to the String Puller as he weaseled his way into infamy. Shortly thereafter Revel disappeared, and began in secret a cult using his precognitive abilities to gain followers. Guessing that he wasn't the only superpowered person in the world, Revel set about making armaments for himself and his followers, and endeavored to learn more about others like him. When Revel caught wind through an associate named Quaily that the MetaOps project and been formed and was combing the country for suitable recruits. With this in mind, Revel severed ties from his cult, making sure his past was well hidden, left his second-in-command in charge, and allowed himself to be captured by MetaOps operatives during a feigned robbery. When offered a chance for redemption by project administrators, he grudgingly conceded. Personality: Revel is slimy and secretive, with little to no morality limiting his ambitions and the meeting of his goals. He is outwardly charming but inwardly misogynistic and narcissistic. In fact he is incredibly sexist, enjoying having control over females in any aspect from their fear to their form. His ultimate passion is to control and contort, and he has a curiosity that has led him to experiment. The fact that he has created a cult with him as the head is a testament to his manipulative ability and charisma. Revel is the ultimate ringleader, the shadow and the plot behind the front lines, the cult leader playing chess with people. A knack for adapting to the situation at hand and learning from his failures make him particularly dangerous. In everyday circumstances, he is very capable of feigning ordinary emotion, and hides his...eccentricities. One thing he greatly enjoys is to guess what other people are going to say before they do so, and then be right. Appearance: Revel wears the same gear he wore during his feigned robbery, reasoning that it will 'remind of the past self he's trying to redeem'. He is slightly farsighted and speaks with a hint of a Hungarian accent.
56,194	1,537	52	1,404	5,009	Alexander Ziker - MicWiz Alex’s golem was useless against this monster, what was the point in stopping him? This situation was bleak and funny at the same time for Alex. The government created this program in hopes to stop Meta-Humans like The Immortal. He could almost hear the Director back at base talking about how weak they were. It reminded him of when he learned about the French Revolution in high school, the monarchs and nobles had no idea how the poor lived, or what the poor was. This was The Director, the nobles, and the Metas, the poor, he had no idea what they were going through, he was probably watching them right know, laughing, or disappointed. His golem shattered and Alex stumbled backwards, it looked like the guys skill was above the law of all nature. The Immortal started towards him once again, but he was distracted by something else. Alex glanced back and heard a voice yell over the constant crashing of debris. "Reinforcements are here!" What help would one more Meta do, why lost one and he was here to replace her. Alex sighed, at least The Immortal’s focus was no longer on him. Alex shrunk back, taking this opportunity to save his skin and regroup his thoughts. Alex conjured himself a floating throne, this way he could think in style, at least with the last few moments he had to live. He sat there, doing as hard as he could to come up with a plane that would kill the Immortal. Throwing him at the sun, into a black hole, into the center of the earth, nothing seemed possible when it came to fighting The Immortal. He was suddenly thrown out of his thoughts by Chimera, the ne he had saved not too long ago with the teddy bear. Armor, he wanted armor? What would that doo for him, Alex really did not want to argue with him, but he also did not want to be the cause of his death. Alex sighed and nodded, “Of course I can, what type are you looking for.” He said despondently. Alex then saw Izzy, he watched as everything went in slow motion as, she died. Alex only saw a bit of what happened before she died. Alex jumped of his throne and ran to her, dispelling it as he did. Another person dead, how? Was it the Immortal, no it couldn’t have been him. The Immortal was too focused on the other Meta. He kneeled down and turned her body over, in a panic, “ Wake up! Come on you can’t die now.” He said almost yelling.	Code Name: MicWiz Real Name: Alexander Ziker Age: 24 Nationality: Caucasian Powers: Energy Constructs Alex can create tools, weapons and other objects from Energy. He can create any can imagine but has to have a good idea how it functions. His constricts can be broken if the amount of force that is applied is greater than the amount the user's imagination can produce. Alexander can use this ability through a wand with a glowing, pink colored, diamonds shaped object on the top. His energy constructs are all colored neon pink. Origins: Alex grew up in a fairly normal environment. Despite having to raise a child as a single parent, his mother still did her best to give her child what he wanted. There was never a shortage of fun when it came to spending fun with his mother. Alex never knew his father, and truly never cared to ask about him. His mother did all she could to be a mother and a father to her son. She had the privilege of having a well paying job a computer programmer, giving her the opportunity to work at home, and spend time with her child. Alex was never a straight A student, but he did what he could in school. Alex was fortunate enough to get into a good collage. Unfortunately, Alex struggled with school, stress angered him, but he hid it with humor. To make things worse, his mother was starting to have health problems. Alex was slowly getting depressed, and for the first time in his life he wished he had a father. The was the lowest point in his life, once he hit his Jr. Year, Alex barely went to school anymore. His mother could not do anything to help her son, since she had a hard time even helping herself. This was the time when hour begin to develop his powers. Alex retreated to his imagination during this time, hopping to escape from the world around him, maybe to unwind. When what he thought up came into existence, he was astonished, disappointed that it was pink, but was amazed. He showed his mother this power, but when she saw it, she was not amazed, instead, she was horrified. She contacted the authorities and he was taken into custody. Alex was soon handed over to MetaOps, since then he has been trained to control his ability. Learn how it works, widen and make more use of his imagination, he will soon be ready to be sent out. Unfortunately, Alex still has mixed feelings about his mother. Personality: Alex is easygoing, upbeat, energetic, funny, flirty and loves to tell jokes, even if they aren't funny. Alex is genuinely very intelligent and honest, and cares about his friends and family. He sometimes doesn't think before reacting and he enjoys pulling pranks on people, especially those who he doesn't like. Despite his jokey attitude, Alex has been shown to have a serious side, which happens when he is angered by someone or when the situation calls for it.
56,195	1,537	53	1,884	334	"Alex!" Drake shouted before charging after him, slowly morphing down into his usual form, albeit much more... naked, this time. He dropped down next to Alex and gasped softly as he saw the mangled form of the girl, gritting his teeth. In the back of his head he remembered what she had told him about her powers, but still this was just... Awful. "S-She'll be okay." He whispered softly as he put his hand on Alex's shoulder. "She can't die... She told me she couldn't die, thats her power..." Even as he said it, it sounded unbelievable to him. But somehow he knew he had to trust what she had said. "Look, Wiz, we need to focus. If that reactor goes off she, and everyone else is going to stand no chance of surviving. The radiation you used earlier slowed the guy down enough for us to get to him for a bit... Do you think if I got you the chance you could do it again?" In the back of his mind, Chimera was disgusted with himself. He had now seen two people die, how could he be so callous about it? He wasn't a soldier, he wasn't used to death... However he knew if he didn't do something more people would still die, and he would never let that blood be on his hands.	Code Name: Chimera Real Name: Drake Marble Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: He's an all-American mutt, with Indian, Native American, Irish, German, Mexican, and pretty much anything else you could think of, but he comes from America. Powers: Drake is a shapeshifter, but strangely enough he can't use his powers correctly. Instead of simply being able to turn into something or someone at will, for some reason he simply can't do it. Instead, he must observe an animal or person he wants to turn into for almost hours at a time in order to perform the shift, so instead of simply trying to master several forms he's only mastered one, something which he calls the "Chimera". The Chimera is a massive beast almost the size of an elephant, and is a mix of the most deadly creatures in the world. It has the head and claws of a wolf, wings of a giant bat, the tail of a lemur, the horns of a rhinoceros, and a scorpions barb on the end of its tail. Drake is always trying to find room for improvement on this form, always researching animals to make it more effective in battle. As the Chimera he has incredible strength and speed, as well as the ability to hear and smell things from miles away. His wings allow him to fly for large distances, and even carry others with him at times. Origins/History: Drake came from a very normal, ordinary family with only one exception: his parents were both 'gifted'. His father was a shapeshifter, his mother had the ability to neutralize or negate most powers through genetic telekinesis. They assumed, given his mothers powers, that Drake would be a normal boy with no need to worry about things such as powers... They were greatly mistaken. Instead, what they got was a boy who's powers were absolutely out of control from a young age. He was completely unable to control his shifting, turning into the randomest animals at the most unpredictable times. So, Drakes mother used her powers in an attempt to permanently negate her sons abilities, and this did work... To an extent. Now Drake has to struggle in order to shift into something, sometimes to the point where it hurts, and his out of control powers did have a lasting effect on him. To this day his ears are permanently trapped in the form of a wolf, causing him to be highly sensitive to sound at times, as well as his hands always having the retractable claws of a cat. However he reuses to simply let his gift go to waste. Instead, ignoring his parents warnings, he set off to go use his strange power to help people, and to protect them... So far it hasn't been working that well for him however. He joined the MetaOps after another failed attempt to help someone, this time a woman being mugged. He had saved her of course, but at the very sight of the terrifying creature she had screamed and ran. This , a lot with several other incidents, caused the government to become involved and to attempt to detain him. However, they found the boy was extremely reasonable and willing to go without question. Soon enough, he was recruited to join the team with the promise hat he could use his powers to do the most good. Personality: Drake is a fun , easy going, and caring guy. Despite his power being truly terrifying and the stuff of nightmares, all he wants to do is help his friends and protect them, even at the cost of his own physical harm.
56,196	1,537	54	2,096	5,087	After the flashbang, Michelle raised her gun to fire again. When she pulled the trigger, though, only a "click" sound emerged from it. The damn thing was out of ammo. Running back behind a pillar, she pulled out the empty clip and put in a fresh one. Her gun reloaded, she stuck her head out to examine the situation now. Of course, it was the same as it had been, the Immortal as unstoppable as ever. It was all they could do to even slow him down. However, her communicator sounded, "Reinforcements are here." and a new person appeared. Michelle didn't know what to make of the guy, but if he could help, then she would accept it. Freyja took a huge hit, and didn't seem to be moving after that hit. If memory served correctly, though, Freyja wouldn't be down for the count forever. Back to the matter at hand, Michelle knew that none of them had the strength to stop Immortal by force. Chimera got knocked back like a punching bag, MicWiz's constructs were destroyed easily, even internal explosives didn't cut it. Michelle's trick with the flashbang only delayed his path for a second, and that certainly wasn't much. Well, at least Revel had a plan, and she certainly couldn't come up with a better one. Going over to MicWiz and Drake, Michelle said, "I'll get her body somewhere safe, you two do what you can against Immortal. She's not dead forever." Michelle had faith in Freyja's ability, and hoped that it would be as she said. Michelle took hold of one of Freyja's arms and began dragging her back, then leaning her against a wall. Michelle would stay back for now. She had done as much as she could, and it wasn't like she was going to leave an injured person unattended.	Code Name: Widowmaker Real Name: Michelle Kine Age: 27 Gender: Female Nationality: American Powers: None. She is a normal human through and through. Instead, she has these talents: -Sharpshooter: Michelle is a master with virtually any firearm one could come up with. Pistols, sniper rifles, grenade launchers, you name it, she can use it. -Battle instincts: honed through a lifetime of fighting both normals and super humans, Michelle both reacts and recovers more quickly than most. -Fist fighting: Just because she uses firearms so much doesn't mean she doesn't know how to fight without one. Origins/History: Michelle grew up in a rough neighborhood. Gangs controlled the streets, and not even the police did anything about them; in fact, some were even bribed to keep their noses out of the conflict. As a result, little Michelle had to learn how to fend for herself. It certainly wasn't easy, especially since she was a girl. In time, though, she earned a reputation among the gangs so they knew not to bother her. Of course, things took a turn for the worse when she encountered a gang leader who was a super human. She fought hard, but she ultimately could not contend. Before she faced complete defeat, however, she was fortunate enough to have another super human interfere in the fight and save her. Michelle was too proud at first to express her thanks, but they eventually became good friends. When they grew up, they enlisted in the military. The two went through tough times, both in the field and at home, but they were inseparable. At least, until one day, when two were caught by surprise and Michelle's friend died in the firefight by another super human. Michelle had quickly killed the one who had done the deed, but it did little to ease the pain of the loss. Shortly after, Michelle was approached with the offer to join MetaOps, which Michelle accepted. Personality: Michelle has a hard look in her eyes, as if she had seen terrible things. She's also not the most chatty person either. However, the look can soften, and a kinder personality will show. In a fight, there's no one else you would have to stay by your side, and will stay by you if your death slowly approaches.
56,197	1,537	55	1,813	471	David flinched as Immortal broke through the concrete that was trapping him and whacked Izzy who suddenly came next to him and got knocked away. Along with Chimera who was knocked away accidentally as well it seemed, but all together missed him thankfully as a hit from the Meta would be disastrous. However, it seemed that Chimera recovered quickly however, the other girl wasn't so lucky but it seemed she was safe for now as Michelle dragged her away to safety. With the next assault being a combination of Chimera and Wiz, Daivd had no real plan but decided to work with what he had and focused his powers as well. Shouting out to Alex, "Get ready!" before suddenly Chimera was inside a wind tunnel along with Immortal and himself, pulling everything towards David. The tunnel of wind accelerated the speed of Chimera as he was headed toward Immortal, while it also dragged Immortal as well towards him slowly. If Drake wanted to jump, he would find himself gliding surprisingly as the wind carried along his body making him eerily light. It wouldn't be surprising that the man would still be able to move but it hindered those who were traveling against the direction of the wind. It was fairly a simple task to manipulate the air around them and it wasn't too difficult to keep it going at this pace. But, he wasn't sure what would happen to him if Immortal decided to target him next, so he covered himself is a sphere of wind which rooted himself down from the effects of the wind tunnel as it blew past him.	Real Name David Arazaga Age 25 Gender Male Nationality Half Argentinian/Mexican Powers: Elemental Manipulation - David has the ability of manipulating the elements in all their forms, being more focused on being versatile to cover more area rather than potent in a single element. Despite his weaker elemental powers, he specializes in combining elements and creating devastating elemental magic. However, due to combining multiple elements, it is very draining on David's stamina. David also cannot create elements out of thin air, and can only manipulate already existing sources, however creativity may allow him to find resources where it might not be expected. The more complicated the element, the more draining it is on David and if the resources aren't nearby then it drains David even more to collect the elements to form it. Origins/History: Summarizing a average childhood, David was born into the middle-class where his family were able to afford to live comfortably as live their life. Being to afford something expensive perhaps once in a while, David didn't mind his modest upbringing. However, during his time through school he was a avid student, who surprisingly had an high interest within the science and math subjects of school. However, since he learned faster than the children of his age he felt different from them as he could relate to older children much more easily. Learning things from them as well socially and picking up some things from them as well. With this kind of childhood, Damien was nerdy guy who was pretty smart for a kid his age but still had a bunch to learn despite his studiousness. However, if you had anything to ask about something that you were confused about in class, you could ask him and he would most likely clear up something for you. From the first glace, you wouldn't had seen anything special about the boy but when he was alone you could see he glowed brightly at times before it would disappear. Going through High-School he changed and became a little more socially pleasant, being able to hold a normal conversation with other people, while also making sure to look good enough to make a nice humble impression to people. However, many people knew that he still was a nerdy guy who if anything was more interested in taking a book and reading it somewhere quiet or surfing up the web. He was a generally likable guy who was interesting and had a handful amount of friends who he knew pretty well and they the same. Taking him by surprise was the years of High School, which had breezed by and before he could root himself down he graduated from high school. Having a good idea on what he wanted to do, he decided to go into college to take a degree in math, however switched a year latter into science subject. Deciding that it would be more colorful and exciting to study science which was a broad range of thing was better than the bland language of mathematics despite him being able to do it proficiently. Science was simply a more fun subject that he preferred and could teach other easily and so years went by in college with him getting his Masters in Science before finally a teaching degree. However during these years in college was when he discovered his powers, where an unfortunate accident almost took place. It had near midnight where he was separated from his friends after a late night of drinking themselves silly and he wondered away from the group. Then came from the alleyway was the victim of his outburst of powers as, he was threatened. With a knife at his neck, his eyes glowed briefly before it felt warm, with the chilly night air disappear and was increasing getting warmer before his attack was set on fire. Unsure what happen along with him being drunk, he ran away despite a pair of eyes watching him as he ran away getting a cab back to the dorms. How he got recruited into the MetaOps... was a very unlikely thing for David when he thought of it as they had came several months after he had finished getting his degree. He would had almost forgotten about the incident if he wasn't practicing how his powers worked, as he preformed minor tricks such as lighting a candle or freezing his cup of water to ice when he was bored. If they hadn't come to the college under the disguise of searching for him for that certain night. It had taken them several months of tracking him down and upon being approached about the incident, he did his best to bluff and lie about what happened that night but with video evidence. He started to run, with him out the window of a 3-story dorm may seem impossible, but he trusted himself enough that he controlled the air around him cushioning his fall before he ran. But from the corner that he turn was shot with tranquilizer darts before being dragged away... There he was explained that he was being watched by a single agent who had notice that David showed the signs of being an gifted since a early age and was reported by a few people but nothing was going to be done until he displayed his powers. They would of abandoned the case long ago if there wasn't a small yet tiny stream of complaints of him glowing eerily due to the amount of energy that was suppressed in him for all those years. Promised that he wouldn't get into trouble for the accident and that he could redeem himself, he was recruited into the MetaOps and trained so he could use his powers without them being released unconsciously. It had been quite a while since that incident and David was now a changed person, despite his plans not going how he expected it was better than what he was thinking of doing. Personality: A bright and young individual who seemingly looks like the everyday person with the exception of his youth and energy that people of his age has. David likes being a intelligent person and likes to judge people upon first meeting them, however he prefers to keep his opinion to himself and remain polite. He is always perceived as a shy and reclusive individual which is mostly correct for the most part, on the other hand, he can be quite a sociable person but speaks softly. Mumbling combined with his soft way of speaking makes him easily able to fade into the background if he ever wished to disappear from the conversation as he was barely noticed anyway in the first place. When he does speak clearly he is shown to have a nice voice, not too deep as it is a blend of both masculine and feminine, with his voice being slightly deeper.
56,198	1,537	56	952	2,710	The Immortal waited for a response from Hopper, before a large wind tunnel surrounded him, Chimera, and Elementalist. He gave a loud sigh before flying out of the way of Chimera's attack. Even with Elementalist's speed boost, The Immortal was still faster. With Chimera now barreling away to who-knows-where, The Immortal focused his attention on Elementalist. The Immortal stuck his hand inside the protective sphere Elementalist had set up for himself and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "I suggest you take a seat," he said before dropping Elementalist. They were nowhere near high enough to cause any serious injuries, Elementalist would probably just feel sore for a little while. "Now that that distraction has been taken care of," he said, turning to Hopper. "Where were we?"	Code Name: Witch Real Name: Samantha Choi Age: 24 Gender: Female Nationality: Korean-American Powers: Witch has telekinesis, similar to having an extra pair of long, strong, invisible arms. Limited to a range of twenty meters, the strength of her telekinesis is directly related to Witch’s physical strength and fatigue. The more in shape she is, the more weight she can carry. However, her telekinesis does not simply extend her reach; the weight she can carry through telekinesis versus how much she can normally carry is multiplied by a factor of ten. If Witch can lift up a one hundred pound object with her hands, she can lift a one thousand pound object through telekinesis. Other notes about her “arms”: Witch must be able to see what she is trying to carry. Her telekinesis can also be used to lift herself up, giving the impression she can fly or float. Finally, her “arms” are not only good for carrying things, but also smashing or tearing things. Again, they are like invisible arms, so anything a normal person could do with their arms, she can do with her extra ones. Origins/History: Samantha had a fairly privileged life prior to joining MetaOps. She attended college for a major in physics, but Sam still found enough free time to party almost every weekend (except for during midterms and finals. Nobody parties during midterms and finals). She didn’t get into any trouble during college, however, and graduated at 22 with a stellar GPA. After graduation, however, things got a little difficult. Sam had trouble finding a job, so she got on the next flight to Korean and stayed at her grandparents’ house in Seoul. It was in Seoul that Sam realized that she could pick things up from a distance, something she swore she couldn’t do beforehand. She began toying with her newfound power in the safety of her own home, slowly getting accustomed to using her extra arms. Sam began to piece together the details of her power; their effective distance, their strength, and how they related to her strength. It didn’t take long for her grandparents to find out she had telekinesis. After long deliberation, they ultimately decided to turn Sam in to the authorities. Sam refused, running from her grandparents’ home out of fear. However, Sam’s inherent recklessness kept getting her into trouble. She would abuse her power to try to steal from stores in order to survive on the streets of Seoul. For several months, Sam got along nicely in Seoul. However, her luck eventually ran out, and a shopkeeper noticed that he was being robbed. Sam managed to escape, but the security footage didn’t lie. The shopkeeper alerted the government right away. As soon as the guns started to be waved at Sam, she surrendered. She was held in isolation for several days while the Korean officials decided what to do with her. Ultimately, she was handed over to the US government and given to MetaOps. For her first year at MetaOps, much of her time was devoted to strengthening her powers and learning their limits, as well as extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. Sam found that she was a quick learner in hand-to-hand and quickly excelled. She’s no expert, but she’s pretty damn good at it. After that first year, Witch was deemed ready to go out into the field, and has since spent a year operating for MetaOps. Personality: Sam’s primary trait is that she is absolutely curious about everything. If she doesn’t know something to a satisfactory degree, Sam will question anyone she can until she does. However, her curiosity comes with a downside. Her inquisitive nature often leads to strong cynicism, so she finds herself questioning people’s motives more often than she’d like to admit to. Not to say that Sam is an absolute cynic. She still considers herself fortunate that MetaOps picked her up from the Korean government and that she doesn’t have to spend the rest of her life in a prison or lab somewhere, and Sam keeps that in mind at all times. She has utmost respect for authority within MetaOps and has fierce loyalty to the division. For the most part, Sam thinks in a procedural, rational manner, but it doesn’t take much for her to lose her cool. She’s young, she’s reckless, and MetaOps often finds itself having to clean up after her or reprimand her actions or rein her in. Appearance: Sam is small and unseeming, standing at only 5’4, but the nature of her power requires her to stay in excellent physical condition. She’s short, but she’s tough, and has a strong, muscular body to make up for her size. As for her other features, Sam has bleached and dyed her naturally black hair into a beach blonde color, wearing it in a medium-length ponytail. She wears thick frame glasses over her dark brown eyes which she replaces with contacts when she is sent on a mission. Speaking of which, her mission attire is a completely black, full-body jumpsuit, with pockets scattered over her legs in various sizes to carry a multitude of things. In addition to this, Sam wears military-grade combat boots and gloves and is more often than not found wearing a different kind of hat on her head. thank you for this image! Sam in her suit (minus the goggles) (the idea for Sam’s power was most definitely inspired by both Chronicle and Elfen Lied. in fact, I might as well have taken a carbon copy from both of them and placed it here, so you could most definitely refer to those if you want a clearer picture of Sam’s power!)
56,199	1,537	57	2,428	4,480	Hopper began walking towards the nuclear reactor with the bottle in tow, cradling the Akvavit between his elbow and shoulder as he rested his left arm. "I have come here to speak to you personally. Not as a member of MetaOps, but as a man who understands what loss feels like. I ask you as a man to simply speak, and decide what you desire to do afterwards. And, to sweeten the deal..." Hopper brandished the bottle, holding the neck of the bottle in his right hand. "Why not a drink?" This was it. This was his big plan. And by god did he hope that someone else had a better one, or that he was going to be one lucky grasshopper. He had no doubt that the Immortal man had little chance of actually getting drunk, and an ever littler chance of hearing a word he was saying as being more than rambling. All he could really do...was buy time. He hadn't the strength or maneuverability to counter a Meta as powerful as Immortal, and he knew it. Standing there, Hopper's scarf ceased its motion as the dust kicked up from his landing settled. With great care to make sure that no one could hear outside the comm channel, Hopper whispered: "I'll try and buy time..." The Immortal looked at Hopper suspiciously at first, but decided that letting the man have a few words before his impending doom was the least he could do. "Fine," he said, before reaching out his hand for the beverage. Hopper wasted no time in handing over the Akvavit, before honestly being surprised that the Immortal even listened. Made sense to him though...he was still a human at heart, so someone trying to talk to him about his problem would seem interesting. That or he was just humoring him. Once the bottle was in the Immortal's grasp, Hopper said: "I apologize for not having a glass for you. I was called here without the time to prepare properly." The Immortal grasped the bottle and took the cap off with no effort. "It is quite alright," he said before taking a sip and handing it back to Hopper. "So, what specifically do you wish to talk about?" Hopper removed his helmet and carried it in his right armpit, taking a swig of the Akvavit before wiping his mouth on his bracer. "I'm more curious about why you're doing this than why you think this will work out for you. Tell me...what happened?" "I was brought on by a strange man to help him steal some device from the military. The man promised that the weapon could end this cursed life of mine. He lied. Instead he kept it to himself. This weapon... it... it has absolutley unimaginable power and I have no idea where he took it. I fear what he would do with such a device and decided that this was better than what he has in store for the world," The Immortal responded, only leaving any listeners with more questions. Taking another sip of the booze, Hopper simply said: "Well, you're wrong about one thing there. This certainly isn't better than anything I can imagine. Destroying this plant would kill...I don't even know how many people. I can't see that as being a better solution than leaving this man with the weapon." Hopper handed the bottle back. The Immortal took another sip, this one much larger than his last. "You do not know what this... thing does though. Death is much preferable to what will happen to you if he gets what he wants. I am sorry that I cannot tell where he is or where he keeps the weapon, only that, if you wish to continue living, you have to stop him. There were three others on the team when we stole the weapon, one of them might know more." The Immortal turned back to the direction of the Reactor Room. "If you have nothing else to say, then I am sorry, for you have not convinced me to end my mission." Hopper hummed for a moment before putting his helmet back on. "You could always join MetaOps you know...The resources they have combined with your abilities would make finding this man easy. Maybe you could even find a reason to be..." he said, already expecting a definite 'no' and a punch to the face. The Immortal actually paused in his advance to the Reactor Room and gave the idea some thought. Working with a group of metas to save the world? Seemed like something from a comic book. He turned to Hopper to give an answer, but was suddenly interrupted. Evil Eyes stood in the doorway that The Immortal had come through earlier and shouted, "No! This bastard dies now!" He launched himself at The Immortal, using his powers of kinetic manipulation to strengthen his attack tenfold. His fist impacted with the jaw of The Immortal and the sound of a Evil Eyes' arm breaking echoed through the room. The Immortal looked down at Evil Eyes, bent over in pain and holding his broken arm. He turned to look back up at Hopper and finished his answer, "I do not believe that will happen." The Immortal turned his back on Hopper and Evil Eyes and proceeded to the Reactor Room, where Revel and Specter lied waiting to enact their plan. Hopper stared horrified at Evil Eyes, contemplating the fact that the man might have literally just ruined the best chance he had to put a stop to all of this. Running after The Immortal, Hopper looked over his shoulder. "Crosscut, get him out of here. We need to pull out all the stops to end this. You remember that trick we pulled back in Iran? We need that now..." After teleporting around the facility, trying to keep track of who on his team was still up and who was down for the count, Crosscut arrived just in time to see Evil Eyes' failed attack and the disasturous results after. Before Hopper finished his suggestion, Crosscut was already going in to get Evil Eyes to safety. He'd be damned if he let another teammate die. He couldn't teleport back to base though, he didn't know if he would materailize inside someone after this much time had passed. Instead, Crosscut teleported him to Freyja and the others. Quickly coming back, Crosscut gave a thumbs up to Hopper as a signal to start their cooperative attack. Hopper nodded once Crosscut gave him the thumbs up, and removed his scarf, tying it around his waist like a belt, which Crosscut would hold onto. Once he was holding on, Hopper would immediately jump, carrying Crosscut along with him on the surprisingly sturdy scarf. Extending his leg, he waited for Crosscut to work his magic.Within a moment, the two teleported directly in front of the Immortal, surprising The Immortal enough to land a boot to his head. Before The Immortal could react, Crosscut teleported them away in an instant, only to have Hopper launch another kick directed at the small of the back. The blows were insignificant, not even managing to damage the invincible man, but they were forceful enough to push him around. Annoying enough that he couldn't truly ignore them. Attempting to swat them away as they kept pushing him, The Immortal took a deep breath before he caught Hopper's next kick, catching both him and Crosscut off guard. "Out of my way." was all he said before with just a single twist of his wrist, he sent the two spiraling towards a wall as he kept walking into the reactor room. Crosscut managed to get them out in one piece, teleporting them back where they started, but Hopper'd been disabled; His right leg was absolutely mangled just from the Immortal getting a good wring in on it. Clutching his mechanical leg, Hopper said: "There's...there's no way..."	Code Name: Hopper Real Name: Jun Li Shi (Just goes by Jun, for your convenience and mine.) Age: 27 Gender: Male Nationality: Hong Kong Chinese Powers: Advanced Robotic Lower Body: Jun’s lower body has been completely replaced with mechanical implants that go well beyond military grade, giving him the capabilities to run faster, longer, and harder than any normal human being alive. He can also jump absurd heights and distances, survive falls from immense heights due to the stabilizers in his feet and hips, and knees. His kicks have more than enough force to shatter and bend materials such as concrete, weaker metals up to iron, and human bones. Needless to say, getting kicked by him is beyond painful. Helmet: Jun’s helmet is more than just a shield for his face, in the eyes it contains infrared, night vision, and heat scanning lenses that allow him to see better in almost any situations, provided he has his helmet. Given that he needs to communicate with the team often, he has had a communications system installed into his helmet. There’s also a sub-sonic speaker implemented into the neck that everyone but Jun can hear, that emits a particular noise... Origin: Born in the city of Hong Kong in 1988, Jun was born into a loving family as the only child to a biomedical engineer and architect, his mother and father respectively, nine years before the transfer of sovereignty to the People’s Republic of China. Even after the transfer of power occurred, Jun lived a rather happy life with his family, showing a great amount of intelligence even at a young age, even fully learning Cantonese, Mandarin, and English by the time he entered high school. Everything was going well for them, especially his mother since the Department of Mechanical Engineering of Hong Kong provided her project with additional funding, one which would give veteran amputees access to advanced prosthetic limbs to help them live their lives normally once more. Such advanced robotic prosthetics could have shaped the future of the world, given a man who lost his limbs the chance to hug his family again, to walk with them once more, and to fully reintegrate into society with fully functioning limbs. At least, that was how it should have gone. Three months before the final model of the limbs were completed, Jun, age 19, was just walking. A normal day in his normal life. Literally nothing was out of the ordinary, the wind was calm, the sun was out, the light to walk was on. But someone didn’t see. Ironic as it was that his future was all decided by something that could have happened to anyone, he was struck by a speeding car, driven by a drunk man he’d never even met. God was playing a joke that wasn’t funny to him. Immediately after being admitted to the hospital, the doctors were forced to amputate his legs, as every bone and tendon in them were crushed under the bumper and wheels of the vehicle. Were it not for his mother’s technology, Jun never would have walked again. Implementing the greatest advancements in prosthetic limbs, his mother fitted Jun with the prototype model of the AAMA, the Amputee Assistance Movement Apparatus, and, after two months of rehabilitation and adjustment, Jun was able to walk again. Being fitted with artificial hips and a conjoined segment of his spine, his legs worked even better than his original, he could run farther, and longer than ever, and he didn’t even feel tired after running half a marathon. It finally seemed like he was going to get his peaceful life back...all thanks to his mother. Just when things were looking up, and the AAMA was about to be ready for use in hospitals, the funding was mysteriously and anonymously cut entirely, leaving his mother outraged and angry. Of course, Jun himself was outraged as well. The very thing keeping him walking was being denied to people who would really need it, people whose lives it could restore in just a few months. Still...what could he and his family do? They were subject to the government above all else, and as such couldn’t really protest against where the funding was going. That was, until his mother was forcibly relocated to Shanghai. Jun and his father were even forbidden to see her, and, after a month, both started to worry. A month turned into 3, then into half a year as they simply recieved letters, letters from the government that were supposedly written by Jun’s mother. Yet, more than anyone, his father knew something was wrong. Stepping back a year, Jun had received a scholarship to the Hong Kong University of Medical Science himself, and had a year’s worth of hands-on experience tinkering with his own legs. Metal legs, strong, cold, unyielding...powerful, to say the least. Angered by what might have happened, Jun grew tired of living under a government that would deprive the world of the knowledge his mother could offer, a world where everyone could walk. Donning a disguise using an old, discarded Yamaha motorcycle helmet with the visor painted black, he put his modified legs to use on his (technically) terrorist rampage of breaking into government facilities in Shanghai, all in the purpose of finding out just what the government was up to. Though he never hurt anybody, Jun soon became wanted throughout all of China for crimes of treason against the government...though it was under a new name. A name given by a journalist who witnessed one of his now famous 30 ft. jumps using his robotic legs to clear the distance of two skycrapers in one bound. Quickly being dubbed: “The GrassHopper” the media took to shortening it to simply “Hopper” as he continued, uncaring of the consequences of his actions. That was, until, he actually found his mother. Jun had been captured before he knew what hit him...ameteur vigilantism didn’t exactly mean you were subtle, or could hide for long, and in his case, that meant that the government kicked his door down and arrested him. A day before he was to be executed, he had a strange encounter with a man who’d saved his mother, and escorted her and his father out of the country already. With new resolve, Jun joined MetaOps under the moniker of Hopper, ready to serve under the U.S. government as payment for saving his own, and his family’s lives. Personality: Jun personality wise is a pretty straight forward type of guy, not really the type to mince words or beat around the bush when something needs saying. Still, he has a decent sense of how others feel about things and is very sympathetic, willing to listen if someone is willing to talk. For how upbeat he is, a defeat can really get Jun down in the dumps, and he somewhat feels inadequate compared to most members of MetaOps, given that his defining ability is just that he’s a double amputee with robot legs to substitute a wheelchair. Still, he’s a pretty cool guy to talk to. Appearance:
56,200	1,537	58	451	960	Angelina was now irritated! Her own teammates had ruined her chance to talk to the Imortal, and on top of that the guy looked like he wasn't going to give her the time of day! Come on now! She was an attractive 17 year old girl. The guy was only God knows how old! He should have better manners than to ignore a lady! She crossed her arms defiantly and let people fight again just leaning on the wall watching. What really irked Angelina was when Hopper had the audacity to try and talk to the Immortal, then on top of that, the guy actually talked to him! Hopper was just a human! On top of that he wore a freaking helmet half the damn apparently! This Immortal had some nerve doing that! Honestly! Clearly no one here was very good in science class! Maybe the Wiz guy was, since he seemed to be using a little bit, but everyone else was just some wanna be jarhead! Well except Michelle...She kinda was one already...But seriously! Mix diplomacy and science! Or not even science really! Anatomy! Technically her plan required a substance that is for science use so that part is science...But that's not the point! This guy might not seem to age, he might not need to eat, but in the end his body still requires certain things to live just like any other living thing! Once Hopper and Crosscut had epically failed she'd had it with this team. "Okay that's it!" She pushed off the wall and started walking right at the Immortal. In the end her power broke down the link between atoms taking in all matter like a black hole within a limited area on her palm which limited the amount she could take in at once, and the speed. Sadly this meant that she couldn't just take in objects immediately, but energy, liquids, solids, gasses, they were all the same. Built up of small matter in which her body was capable of breaking down and taking in for her own personal use, a nice back up plan. Of course she already had all the way up to her belly button in matter already taken in at base to make a special something for this guy, but it was more than enough to start taking in a fist if this guy was stupid enough to charge her. By all means if you want to force your body to break down and be absorbed faster like pushing paper throuugh a shredder faster then by all means! At least that was one theory that should work... The other was still her main plan though... "Hey you!" She had stopped only a few feet away from the Immortal at this point. "How about we have a little chat? Seems how you're willing to give everyone but me the time of day..." She frown leaning to one side standing there. Secretly she was waiting to use her power to block his attack hoping that it would work, but if not she was hoping that they might be able to just talk...After all he was clearly suicidal...Why not convince him to let her do it for him in a much easier, less painful, and less collateral way?	Real Name: Unknown (Known by Angelica or Angelina due to what she does with her powers) Age: 17 Gender: Female Nationality: French Powers: Matter reconfiguration: Angelica's power in a nut shell is quite simple, yet highly complex. Her body is capable of deconstructing any living, or non living, thing to it's base matter by absorbing it into her body through her hands. The amount in which see can take in is limited to her own size. At this point her body can transform the matter into any kind she desires it to become. Then once taken in her body can produce anything of equal matter from any part of her body. The conditions for this ability are very intriguing though. If she takes in a tree for example, a living thing, then she must produce something that in someway is connected to her body that is also usable like another arm, wings, or maybe internal organs to heal herself. If it's something that wasn't alive then it can't give her anything like the above mentioned. Instead it would have to produce something like armor, a gun, or maybe a glass dove if she really wanted! The biggest thing though is making sure she has equal matter of any kind. It should also be noted that a black hole appears on her palms when she uses this so whatever she's taking in is literally torn apart on a molecular level. It should be noted that this process is time consuming and is not instantaneous or quick. In fact it is slow enough that a living target would feel the excruciating pain of there body being slowly torn apart not just where the cut off would end up being when it's stopped or ended. It should be noted that once she takes something in the recharge time can vary from 20 seconds (Really small object) to 15 minutes (IF she were to intake a full capacity) and then the time to change the matter into what she desires anywhere from 15 seconds to 10 minutes depending on how similar an object is to the desired material and also the amount she has to change. Origins/History: Born in Paris Angelina was born to a fairly rich family and was allowed to do nearly whatever she wanted for her early life up until she was about eight when her parents were murdered in their home. She would have died too if not for the house catching fire causing the murderer to flee before he found her. This didn't hinder Angelina though, well emotionally it got her down for a bit, but she continued on trusting that God would guide her life. After three more years when she turned 11 Angelina being the head of the family decided she wanted to try and live in America for a few years. This was due to not wanting the pressure of media she recieved in France at such a young age. Once she was in America she hid who she was really not letting people know she had plenty of money and had it really good even without her parents around. This when the French media caught on to her move one of her care takers helped her change her identity at the age of 13 and from there she was finally home free! Then another accident happened. While on a trip her caretaker died in a climbing accident while Angelina was on her own at the age of 16 leaving her completely alone in life, other than her friends at school and that she'd made around the town. The problem was no one knew who she really was anymore. Only she knew her secret, and then Angelina was involved in her own accident. She had always been interested in science due to that being part of her families business and why she had all this money, so she decided to visit a genetics research lab. They had been testing a new toxin capable of altering a personals DNA, but they weren't sure what it would do. Well unlucky for everyone there they got to be the test subjects. A gas line exploded inside the compound exposing everyone inside that part of the building to the toxin. Most died from genetic defects afterwards, others ruined for life with mental illnesses, some were just changed...They were different...Angelina was one of these people. The doctors had no idea who she was or anything. When she came to she didn't remember anything about herself either. She had amnesia, and on top of that several bodily injuries some of which they weren't sure if she would ever recover from them. When a doctor tried to explain what was happening and how she may never fully function again Angelina got so upset. The doctor place and hand on her arm and she ended up grabbing his arm and suddenly he started to disappear into her hand. All of her wounds were healing and after they were healed she grew bright white angel wings which wrapped around her protectively. After the government was informed she was taken away so that they could figure out what to do with her. Thus the obvious answer was suggested and followed through with...MetaOps... Personality: Since the amnesia Angelina is quite confused. She understands that she killed the doctor on accident and had to be punished somehow, but everything was just so confusing. Thus she believes anything anyone tells her for the most part and follows orders without question. Basically the mission is all that matters to her and she almost thinks like a child not knowing right or wrong fully. She means well in all of her actions though, even if it might hurt someone.
56,201	1,537	59	1,854	4,756	Gloria - Specter Gloria listened to the fight unfold over Hopper's comm, getting only the audio of the battle limited her knowledge of what was going on but Gloria got the general gist of it. That gist was that they were royally screwed. Now she knew how Revel must have felt when she interrupted his attempt at diplomacy with her brutal attack. The only difference was she hadn't realized he was talking to the Immortal at the time, Evil Eyes on the other hand just didn't care. The sound of bone cracking was so loud that Gloria could hear it echo down into the Reactor Core without the earpiece. The next plan of attack after this seemed to consist of both Hopper and Crosscut, she couldn't be sure, it wasn't like they were describing what they were doing but by the sound of it Hopper was kicking the Immortal around almost simultaneously. No doubt Crosscut was getting him in close then removing him from the Immortal's range. Gloria's heart almost stopped when she heard the sound of metal being twisted and Hopper gasping in both pain and defeat. His legs must have been damaged somehow. Hopper, fully functional was necessary for the plan. As much as Gloria had come to hate the guy in the ten minutes since she met him Revel was right, Gloria didn't have the strength to push someone as charged as the Immortal through all of containment barriers in the reactor core, they were too dense and the Immortal to strong. She needed more external force which was supposed to come from Hopper. Now however that was not an option. "Revel, we have a problem, Hopper's down for the count. He tried some sort of risky maneuver on the Immortal and the big guy fried his legs. Who else do we have that has enough strength to force the Immortal through the barriers and into the core." Gloria quickly went through a mental checklist. She'd not gotten to know barely any of her teammates by name but based on there performance today she had a pretty good idea what they were capable of. McWiz's golems did little more then annoy the Immortal, Michelle was powerless, Freyja was temporarily dead, Crosscut was a teleporter; useful but not for this, Pirate Queen was as useless as Michelle, Hopper and Evil Eyes were down. That left Chimera and Elementalist. Gloria didn't know that much about the Elementalist past seeing him cause concrete to grow around the Immortal. "Do Chimera or the Elementalist fit the profile enough for the kind of force we need to make this work?" she asked. Gloria hated Revel, she truly did but no one could deny that he was decently intelligent and while later Gloria would happily kick his ass, they needed to work together for the moment.	Code Name: Specter Real Name: Gloria Lieth Age: 19 Nationality: American Power: Intangibility – Simply put Gloria has the ability to shift the rate at which her molecules vibrate in order to pass through solid matter. The biggest exception to this is electricity, attempting to phase through anything that carries a heavy electric charge will cause her a great amount of pain. If the charge is towards the lower end but still present she may still be able to push through, this kind of stress of her powers will leave behind something akin to a severe friction burn on any exposed skin that went through the process, effects on clothing may vary by circumstance. If Gloria tries to reform inside a solid object her body will attempt to expel the foreign material with varied degrees of success. If it is a small portion of her body inside a comparatively less dense material then the material will warp and shift to accommodate that body part however if it is most of her body inside something like stone then she will experience excruciating pain her molecules fuse with the stone in a permanent and fatal manor. Organic matter carries a discernable electric charge. This means that the same rules apply to Gloria moving through a person as they do moving through electricity. Compared to something like an electric fence the charge that humans or animals carry is relatively low so Gloria could move through someone however it would hurt quite a bit. Reforming inside something with an electric charge would be suicide, Gloria may succeed in reforming but the charge of the matter she is moving through would kill her. However Gloria has discovered that if she moves through something with a low level charge and alternates solid and not very quickly she is able to fry circuitry, such as security systems or computers. Passing through vegetation is not a problem as the charge it carries is almost unnoticeable compared to other living things. The denser a substance is the more difficult for Gloria to move through it. Something like class would be fairly easy but something like lead or osmium would be much more difficult and possibly even dangerous depending on how much of it she is phasing through. Origins: Gloria grew up in New York City. Her home was not exactly a stable one. Both her parents Peter and Rose, worked constantly, her mother was a lawyer and her father a doctor. This meant that both Gloria and her little sister Cassandra lived well but there’s more to life than that. Because of their occupations neither of Gloria’s parents were home consistently and when they were home Gloria was not there favorite person. They saw Gloria as a deviant, unwilling or worse unable to fulfil their vision of what a daughter should be. On the best days they ignored her but on many of the less pleasant ones Gloria and her parents would get into violently loud arguments. Because of this Gloria stayed out quite often when she knew her parents might be home. She spent most of her time at pool halls or twenty four hour coffee shops. It wasn’t really a secret that Cassandra was Peter and Rose’s favorite but Gloria didn’t resent her sister for it. If you met Cassandra you’d know it was hard to resent her for anything. Cassie as Gloria called her was almost as unstable as Gloria’s home life. She had been diagnosed with schizophrenia at a young age, her parents however couldn’t bear to have her institutionalized. Usually her delusions were pretty tame but every now and then she’d have a serious fit. Peter and Rose didn’t see many of these, they were too busy working. To them Cassandra was there perfect daughter, they weren’t capable of seeing how seriously she needed help. Gloria didn’t like spending time at home, it contained very few pleasant memories for her but at times when she knew her parents were working she would stay none the less to keep her little sister calm. When Gloria was out she gave Cassie a cellphone, if anything scared or frightened her, or anything happened that Cassie couldn’t explain she was to call right away. The development of Gloria’s meta-gene when she was fourteen was the beginning of the end. At first her parents didn’t notice but Gloria’s control over her ability was spotty, she’d phase partway through things at the randomest times and soon enough it happened in public. Once a month Gloria, Rose Peter and Cassie all sat down for a family dinner. This family time once a month was hell for Gloria but Cassie five years younger than her sister seemed to love having everyone together, she didn’t see the tension between her parents and her older sister. For this reason when this time rolled around Gloria tried to be as pleasant as she could, to be the person that Peter and Rose wanted despite the fact that it was not who she was. Gloria helped her mother with dinner that night trying so hard to make this special for her sister. When she was taking the plates to the dining room table Gloria tripped on a piece of loose carpet and went careening towards the table plates flying everywhere. Some sort of instinct activated in Gloria then, a primal sense of self protection cause her power to activate that moment. It save her head from smashing into the fine oak but it doomed her in her parent’s eyes. Gloria passed straight through the table top with her entire family there to witness. At the best of time Peter and Rose were not tolerant people but finding out that there child was a mutant was the final straw for them. They removed her from school, couldn’t have that happening in public, what would the neighbors think? Then they forbid her to leave the house. Of course Gloria was happy to stay when both her parents were out if only to keep an eye on her little sister. At that point in her life the only reason that Gloria didn’t run away from home was because Cassie. The little girl need Gloria now more than ever. Cassie had always had an over active imagination which often enough fueled her delusions. Ever since she’d seen what Gloria could do her schizophrenia had incorporated it into her own personal reality. She’d become convinced that she also was a meta-human. That might have been okay if she thought she had telekinesis or pyrokinesis or energy manipulation or telepathy or anything else. Except Cassie didn’t dream up an ability like that. One that couldn’t hurt her. Cassie had started to believe that she could fly. At the beginning it was almost funny, seeing the eleven year old jumping off tables and chairs and laughing when she hit the ground. Two years after Gloria first discovered her powers when she was sixteen things turned dangerous. Gloria came home one day to find Cassandra standing on the railing of the back deck, fifteen feet off the ground. “I’m gonna do it this time sis.” She shouted with a smile on her face, before Gloria could do anything Cassandra leapt from the railing. She broke both of her legs and fractured her collarbone. Gloria called 911, when Peter and Rose got home they wouldn’t believe that there dear sweet innocent Cassie had actually jumped off a fifteen foot deck. The real answer seemed obvious, Gloria had pushed her sister off the deck out of jealously. No matter how many times Gloria told them what happened they refused to believe it. It was only Cassandra’s insistence that Gloria had gotten home after the fall that kept her from ending up in Juvi. Three months later after Cassie’s bones had healed Gloria’s relationship with her parents had deteriorated further, to the point where Gloria couldn’t be in the same room with them without an argument starting. That fateful night Gloria stormed out of the house not wanted to be there when Peter and Rose returned. She went down to the pool halls were she wasn’t too bad at hustle guys out of there cash. That night Gloria got a phone call in that special phone she’d reserved for her sister. She picked up with haste leaving a game mid play and forfeiting her bet. “Cassie what’s wrong?” “There’s something in the attic with me sis. I’m scared, but one of the windows in the attic is open. I’m gonna fly away from it. I’m going to be alright.” Gloria’s heart nearly stopped, she began to run for home as fast as her legs would carry her as she tried to talk her sister down. “Cassie don’t do this. Whatever’s in the attic with you isn’t scary enough to waste your powers on it, your powers are special. They should be used for special things.” Gloria had learned that directly opposing Cassie’s delusions was a mistake. Her little sister would get irritable and angry and Gloria couldn’t calm her down. “Its big sis, it’s got horns.” “Cassie I’m almost at the house, don’t do anything till I get there.” “It’s coming for my Glory. I have to fly. I have too.” Gloria rounded the corner to the street her house was on. She shoved open the gate with enough force to smash it into the fence beside. Gloria ran up the walk just in time to hear her sister’s scream and see her body hit the ground. In shock Gloria gathered her little sister in her arms, she wasn’t even twelve yet and she seemed so small all broken. She tried to smile and Gloria could see blood coating her teeth. “It didn’t get me sis, I flew. Did you see?” Gloria smiled tears streaming down her eyes. “I saw, my little angel, you flew. It was beautiful.” The smile on Cassandra’s face was so innocent it broke Gloria’s heart. “I… I have to go somewhere else now don’t I?” Gloria couldn’t answer. How did you respond to a dying girls last words? Cassie reached up a hand and touched Gloria’s chest right below her collarbone. “Don’t worry sis, I’ll always be there for you. Right there.” She said pocking Gloria’s chest, smearing blood on her tank top. That was how Peter and Rose found the two of them three house later. Cassandra’s broken body being cradled by a despondent Gloria who was still crying and holding Cassie in her arms. “My god Gloria, what did you do?” said Peter looking on the scene with horror. This snapped Gloria out of whatever state she’d been existing in before. Her pain and anguish quickly turning to anger. “You can’t possibly think… I’m your daughter, her sister. I would never… but then what do you know about me? What do you know about either of us? Maybe if you’d bothered to come home every once in a while you might have been able to stop her from jumping.” “Jumping?” said Rose in shock. “You can’t possibly think we’d believe this was self-inflicted? Our daughter would never commit suicide.” “Mom! You’re daughter was schizophrenic, she needed help. Help you weren’t willing to admit might be necessary. Her blood in on your hands.” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “No actually I think it’s on your hands.” he said gesturing down Gloria’s hands which were indeed stained wither her sisters blood. “Rose call the police.” Gloria watched in horror as her mother pulled out a cellphone. “Police, I’d like to report a murder. My daughter is dead, yes I know who did it. She’s still here. Get here as quick as possible I don’t think we can hold her for long.” Gloria looked between her parents and realized two very important things, they’d never really loved her, and they were determined to see her jailed for Cassandra’s death. Gloria started to run. “No you don’t.” shouted Peter moving to intercept. Gloria didn’t stop she just kept running and as she approached her father her both moved through his. Pain crackled through her limbs that Gloria didn’t fully understand but shock, horror, and grief dulled its edge so that she barely felt it. Gloria didn’t stop running till she was ten blocks from her house. She used the little money she had on her to buy new, clean clothing and she wiped the blood from her skin. This began Gloria’s life on the streets. It took six months before the police gave up on finding her. Of course officially her file was still open and she was still wanted but after that amount of time no one expected her to be found. She stayed in New York, using her gift to steal what she needed. A neat trick she discovered was that if she made her stomach intangible she could store shoplifted items in it for several minutes before she started to feel like she was choking. Gloria did what she had to, to survive. Six months ago her jobs finally caught up with her. She was hired by a local fence to steal a diamond ring from a safety deposit body. It was a trap set by MetaOps. They’d gotten winds of her exploits, the vault were the diamond was held had been retrofitted with an electrically charged grid in all of the walls, floor and ceiling which was activated once she was inside. After that they used insulated cuffs that were wired to transport her to a holding facility. Her choices were simple, join the MetaOps project or spent the next two to five years in jail for the various crimes she’d committed to get by. Personality: Gloria has a prominent wild streak to her and enjoyed partying, drinking, and having sex. Often enough she’ll use a guy and dump him without forming any sort of emotional ties. She can also be careless and irresponsible, Gloria treats serious matters more lightly than she probably should. She is generally carefree and laid-back, causing her to view people who take matters serious as being wound too tight. Gloria doesn’t really want to be in any sort of leadership position on the team because of a deep seated fear that her mistakes could cost them a lot just like with her sister. She explains this reluctance to take command of a situation by nonchalantly saying it’s too much of a hassle. When she wants to be Gloria can be both forceful and persuasive, she could be a decent leader given the chance. Gloria frequently proved herself to be impulsive. She is known for her quick, easily irritated nature, something her father described as the "Lieth temper". Gloria has deep issues with parental figures, due to being raised by neglectful, absent parents while she was young. Nonetheless, she has a deep yearning for a family. She has many trust issues, always fearing that she will be betrayed or hurt if she lets someone in. Often enough she is incapable of understanding why someone would show kindness with nothing to gain for themselves. She is always suspicious of people who take an interest in her. Gloria shows hostility to those she doesn't trust or doesn't know but on the one hand, she would display extreme loyalty to those who were close to her and cared for her, yet that hasn’t happened since her sister died. Appearance:

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