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index int64 0 56.6k	thread_id int64 0 1.54k	message_id int64 0 752	author_id int64 0 2.81k	author_num_posts int64 2 36k	message stringlengths 0 134k	character stringlengths 0 110k
6,400	175	54	2,132	362	James smiled as the elevator came to a halt, there was only one reason this would happen, and he knew exactly what it was. They had arrived at the armory, and that was the best feeling he ever felt as he saw the beauteous gear that each Sabre had available to them. When he saw his kit, he really did get a 'child in the candy store' smile. He strode over to the Suit with '05' printed over it in the standard military font. He smiled as he ran his hands over the fabric-like weave, feeling it...come to life? On contact with his body, he pulled the suit free from its resting place and quickly slid on the outfit, the 'clothing' conforming to the contours of his body to be comfortable, yet it looked, nice, and a very, standard grey. After sliding on the nano-fiber outfit, that resembled basic military attire, but it felt so much better on him, flicking up the hood, it almost seemed like he didn't have one on, but to the rest, unless they had enhanced vision, they wouldn't see anything of his face. He turned back to the table, grabbing the vest that held many pouches for magazines, grenades, and other gadgets he had yet to grab. Looking at the rest of his kit, he saw a small crate, bout the size of a large dinner pan. Opening the crate, inside sat a small single-eye optic, which fit to his right eye amazingly well. After he had it on, an interface lit up, and he noticed he had missed a wrist-mountable tool, after taking it and putting it on his wrist, the interface called it 'Anchor' stating it was ready for use. "Shit, even a Masters degree can't prep you for shit this amazing." Soon he looked to what else sat in the crate, and inside he saw a drone that nearly encompassed the whole thing. after a small scouring of the drone he found it's method of activation, a small switch on the inside, and the machine nearly jumped out of the box. Startling James a tad he stepped back, watching as the machine circled around him, was it...Was it looking him over? He'd heard of sentient A.I., but that was a theory before he left. He extended his hand to it, and the drone, bumped the tips of his fingers, almost giving him a curious look. "You are one perky li'l bugger ain't ya?" He chuckled, giving the drone a light pat on the 'head' and motioning for it to follow, which it surprisingly did. As it moved he did a diagnostic on its weapon systems, small flamethrower...it's own SMG, a small grenade launcher...A flash? Nifty. He'll have to figure that out later. Now it was to his weaponry, which was just as odd as the erst of what he saw, was what resembled a sub-machine gun with an extended barrel, a solid stock, foregrip, hybrid sight, and extended mags. Alongside it sat a compacted shotgun, about the same size, he knew the model and smiled. The gun had a sling, which'd make it easy to carry, the shells were both buck and solid slug. Sitting next to the table was a box for explosives, opening it he saw two spheres with sensory nodes on them, your standard frags, and what looked like remotely detonated charges. With an analysis from his optic, he realized they had nanites that were interfaced with the software in his suit and wrist-tool. According to the interface, he could...'Possess' other machinery? "Nice..."	Sabre-05, ready for service. Military rank Lt. Name James Mathias Alexander Age 31 Sex Male Appearance Height: 1.828m. Weight: 88kg. Personality Chaotic Good James is one who seems to be a lunatic fringe, but he is actually rather stable. His mind is just that of an aggressor, one who thrills on combat. When it hits the fan however, he becomes calm, trading his pressuring aggression for level headed thought processes. He is extremely intelligent and is great at following orders. Even with his aggression, he will calm it if ordered. Skills James excels at a tactic one could call Combat Control. He uses various gadgets, a small armed drone and many other tools to herd enemies so they can be flanked, mowed down, or simply tricked to allow the team time to escape. He has augmentations and his SDS has even more tools to give him the required angles, and the edge to win. He also excels at isolating a target with concentrated fire, he can then eliminate them himself, or allow someone else to handle it. With his implants and augs, he is truly a powerful ally to have on the field, and the enemy to fear. SDS-05: The SDS-05 is built for James, composed of a nano-fiber weave, it also houses more space for his equipment, and a holster for his drone on his right shoulder. the optic that would sit in front of his eye gives him a display of a consistent diagnostic of his drone and his other tools, and equipment his nanites have “Possessed”. The suit furthers his ability to control the combat. Biography James was born on the Upper Troposphere of Earth, if they were on the surface, the area would have been that of Europe. He was born of English ethnicity, both sides of his family were heavy on males enlisting, so he was raised to train hard for his day of enlistment. To his family, it was a rite of passage into adulthood. His prominence for the physical aspect showed for the military early in his teens. His psych evaluation was rather good too, but after getting older, James left for college, getting a masters degree in Robotics, and a bachelors degree in Nanotechnology. Then hurrying to the military and, thankfully he kept in good shape and went through Basic smoothly. His skills with firearms, drones and nano-warfare earned him a good place in the S.A.S (Secret Air Service) as an Unconventional Combat Specialist, using various nano-based pyrotechnics, A.I. driven grenades, mines, and other tools. The Service put his talent with tech to immediate use, inserting him with small teams into enemy territory to sabotage enemy vehicles and equipment with nanites that he could order to “eat” the metals of them, leaving nothing but non-metallic treads, rubber on the tires...You name it, if it doesn’t have metal. It stays, if it does, it’s gone for good. He can also have them take over the wiring of the machine, and it’s command software. giving him control over the nanite-infested vehicles and equipment from afar. He served in the Service for three years, then he was pulled out for a new assignment. The op was more hush-hush than he liked, but command gave the order. He had to follow it, so he went off to this op, following orders and patiently waiting to be given his orders. To him, loyalty is everything, without it, you aren’t human. When he got in the Sabre project, his had the winged dagger of the SAS stitched into his uniform. He will never forget his roots. Ever. Augmentations: Retinal Projection and Enhancement Implant: This implant allows him to project his eyesight through his drone by amplifying the electrical impulses sent to the eye by the Retina, and sending them in the form of a data signal to whatever drone he aims to see through. The implant also amplifies his eyesight, giving him an edge in low-light situations. Direct Neural Projection Device: This implant projects the neural impulses of his brain to his drones, giving him direct manual control over his drone and allowed him to use it to peek around corners, or get to where a human body cannot. Genetic Augmentations: James has an augmentation to his cardiovascular system, enhancing his endurance and making it more difficult to get winded by combat (i.e. winded by a punch, explosives, etc.). He has a neural augmentation that enhances his reflexes, increasing his reaction times exponentially. He also has an aug that enhances his muscular functionality, giving him slightly increased strength, but more so reducing the chances of his muscles tearing and pulling, or even cramping. Equipment James has one personal combat drone he controls manually, it isn’t extremely large, about the size and shape of a 63cm diameter pan, the drone has many tools that make it a versatile unit. Such as a tazer, sub-machine gun, a small grenade launcher, and a small flash function that blinds a target. The drone has the A.I. of a dog, following his orders only, and it has a tendency to make sounds similar to barking, and it nuzzles someone when it wants to notice them. The A.I. is sentient, so it likes, and dislikes others. Seeker Mines: A.I. guided mines that when they find a target, roll to them, launch into the air, and launch a cluster bomb on a group or one target. Wrist-mounted launcher: This launcher can house many tools, but the one he usually has is called The Anchor, it’s a grappling hook with a nano-titanium wire and hook, that is able to hold his body weight and give him another angle on the fight, or displace a foe.
6,401	175	55	2,192	1,228	Snapping the last of the armoured plates into place Saf relaxed for a moment and let her suit settle into place before starting a few warm-up exercises. The rig felt no different than any other she'd worn in her career, if anything it was a little less protective than most she'd used. While her chest was well covered and the interlocking plates running over her abdomen and spine moved smoothly and provided cover her arms and legs only had plates covering about a third of their total area, with her inner arms and thigh only protected by the flexible underlayer which was little more than an alloy weave. Halfway through her exercises Saf felt the power building inside her again and quickly stopped moving. Carefully straightening up as the power flowed through her Saf realised her entire body was beginning to glow with the same light she'd seen on the gauntlet before. Moving slowly she tried to touch her arm, but as she drew near the glowing energy seemed to merge, letting her hand pass straight through without difficulty. 'Well, at least I won't have a problem getting the damn thing off when the time comes,' She thought derisively, still not convinced as to the suit's value. As a thought came over her she quickly lifted her foot and examined the sole of her boot. Almost instantly the glowing field snapped into place, enveloping her feet from below. 'They thought of that, too, huh?' She thought, starting to be impressed by the designer's foresight. As she lowered her foot again Saf felt a moment's pressure before her boot touched the floor, the field shutting off as it detected the constant pressure demanding contact with the deck plating. Moving over to the rack of weapons Saf ran her eyes over the selection of a moment before reaching out for an SMG which was close at hand. 'Guess I'll need a weapon...' she thought to herself. An instant later the SMG exploded in a shower of metal fragments, skewered on a shaft of energy emanating from Saf's hand. Pulling her gauntlet back quickly Saf glanced down the row at the rest of her squad sheepishly, wondering if any of them had noticed her little mishap.	Name: Saffron Bridges Age: 36 Gender: Female Appearance: Personality: Saffron is an adrenaline junkie with a quick temper, always living life to the fullest. She often charges into action before considering the overall tactical situation and sometimes leaves herself in difficult situations having failed to consider the consequences of her actions. She's smart and learns quickly in a scholastic environment, but only when carefully monitored and guided to ensure her attention doesn't wander off topic. Openly homosexual, Saffron has been married to her lesbian life partner for many happy years. Biography: Seen early on as a rising star Saffron was warmly accepted into the advanced officer training program at the academy based solely on her academic results and early aptitude evaluations. She completed her training in short order, scoring highly in tactical assessments and battle simulations with her instructors making note of her unwavering bravery and dedication to her goals. Things fell apart soon after that when during her first official mission she lost over half her squad when trying to perform a suicidal frontal attack against an entrenched enemy. Placed under psychological review pending court martial she was cleared of all charges, insisting that the tactic was sound given the circumstances and the intel provided to her at the time of operational planning. Her psychiatrist agreed that she was fit to return to duty, but noted a possible Messiah Complex or megalomaniac tendencies which should be monitored in future. Returning to action Saffron found command difficult. Word of her previous failure, and rumours that she was undergoing psychological treatment, undermined her position with the troops to whom she was assigned, and despite several successful operations she soon found herself being reassigned between divisions as her superiors tried to have the black sheep placed under anyone's command but their own. Things finally reached a head when Saffron received orders for her fifth transfer in two years. Facing off with her CO what started as a calm interview soon became violent, first with angry words thrown and then punches. Once again facing court martial, this time for striking a superior officer, Saffron found herself stripped of her commission and reenlisted as a Warrant Officer. Realise this could be a breaking point in her career Saffron's psychiatrist made arrangements for her to be transferred to a specialist program which would allow the Service to make best use of her skills rather than losing her altogether. Specializations: Skills:Basic small arms training Advanced combat training in close quarters combat and swordsmanship Advanced tactical training, lapsed Experienced knowledge of military protocols and procedures Holds degrees in military history and humanities, but most of her knowledge is now outdated Expert chef Suit Augmentation - Energy Shielding Shield Armour: In combat Saffron can activate her suit's shield capacitor units encasing herself in dense optical armour which protects her from concussive and kinetic attacks. The armour reacts to impacts by diverting power to the point of pressure, making it more effective when dealing with fewer targets. When facing attacks from multiple angles the armour strains to adjust fast enough (requiring 0.3 seconds to recover from each incoming attack) but when facing sustained attacks from a single assailant the armour can shunt all available power to a single facing, making it perfect for dealing with rapid fire weaponry. Since the armour prevents material passing through it also grants limited effectiveness against area of effect attacks, such as flames, liquids and gases, however it cannot protect against high frequency energy attacks such as heat, radiation and electronic interference. Suit Augmentation - Shield Emitters Shield Projection: By focusing the shield emitters in her hands Saffron can create either walls or blades of light which can be used to either defend or attack. When using her Shield Wall ability Saffron can create upto two shields (one per hand) a meter in diameter upto a maximum of three meters away. Unlike her armour these shields are static and have a fixed protection rating but may be easily repositioned on the fly simply by moving her hands to face a new direction. Energy Blades: When using her hand emitters to generate blades Saffron focuses the power of her shields into a single, almost indestructible monomolecular surface capable of easily slicing through practically any material. As the blades are composed of pure energy they are subject to disruption from other energy sources, such as other shields and similarly powered blades. Upto two blades can be created at a time (one per hand) and as they use the same emitters as her projected shields the two systems are mutually exclusive for each hand, although Saffron often chooses to equip a shield with one hand and a blade with the other, effortlessly switching between the two in the heat of combat. Energy Wave: Saffron can choose to overload her hand shield emitters, causing them to send out a powerful burst of energy in the direction she is pointing her hand at the time of discharge. This ability requires her to shut down the shield or sword she's using for at least two seconds in order to charge the capacitor and also burns out the emitter when used, requiring a cold restart to be performed which takes several minutes. Dual Service Pistols In order to cover herself on those occasions when either she's unable to close with the enemy to use her blades or her suit is recovering from overexertion Saffron carries a pair of standard-issue service pistols as backup weapons. While she's proficient with these handguns she's in no way a marksman, often relying on sustained suppressive fire until heavier support can reach her, or her suit is back to full power and ready for some hands on action. ] Warrant Officer Bridges shows signs of developing an inferiority complex based around the perceived persecution and ostracisation she has suffered from her fellow service personnel in recent years. In regards to any anger management issues she may have, it is my belief that the recent incident was a 'flashpoint' event caused by the ongoing treatment she had been receiving and not an indication of any deeper problems. No further action is advised at this time. I highly recommend she be placed into a high-profile programme which will not only make best use of her obvious combat proficiencies but also grant her the positive exposure she requires to stabilise her condition at this time. A small, tight-knit team would be preferable as it would allow her to form meaningful bonds with her colleagues on a more intimate basis, improving her perception of her fellow soldiers. Warrant Officer Bridges is hereby declared fit for duty and has been granted permission to resume her duties as soon as possible.
6,402	175	56	681	986	Seth didn't see the need to respond to anyone as they rode down the elevator. Staying silent and observing was his speciality, so why not use it? Silence was his only constant friend, and observation was the best tool he had in his arsenal. No amount of chatting and aimlessly talking compared to simply watching a person act on their own accord, because people try to make themselves seem a certain way in conversations, and the only way to see that happening is observing multiple conversations with said person and find the things that match to use as a baseline for how they are. Seth walked off the elevator into his designated chamber and almost instinctively stripped once he saw his suit. It was outfitted to be as quiet and elusive as possible. He slips it on, noticing the tight fit, but not suffocating. More like putting on another layer of skin, due to how natural and thin it felt. Running through the test course was too easy. Though, it was only meant to test the suit's integration, not pose as a mental challenge. Or if it was, it did no good against Seth. Every camera was avoided, even the test camera that was supposed to serve as a starting point for the observing scientists. When Seth re-entered from the ending side, the scientists were baffled. And impressed. Having been told nothing except to run the course without being seen by any person or camera, Seth didn't know of a 'test camera' that he was supposed to be seen in to start the time, the sneaky stealth operative avoided that one, too. Waiting for others to finish their tests and calibrations, Seth sat down, checking out everyone else's armour and weapons. Seth unsheathed the knife from his right boot. His 'last chance bullet'. He'd only kill if he had to, which it shouldn't come to that. His job was to put eyes and ears in the enemy base, not kill them all. He collects all available info, then gets out, the latter being the more difficult of the two.	Name: Seth Garron Age: 26 Sex: Male All clothing as well as the mask are black. Equiped with Chameleon-tech camoflage abilities built-in. Personality: Seth acts like he does on the battlefield- quiet. When Seth does talk, it's in a hushed tone. He's cold, calculative, and efficient, so don't get in his way. This distances people that first meet Seth, but nobody's really gotten to know him since elementary school. Details in Bio, but he used to be just a goofy nerd with other nerdy frineds. Biography: In elementary school, Seth was one of the coolest nerds, making friends and doing school stuff. By 5th grade, others had moved on to hanging out at peoples' houses, but because of his strict parents, Seth couldn't go. By 6th grade, he had all but refused to do school work and was nearly expelled. Something switched. From that point on, his devoted all energy not spent eating and sleeping went into school work. By high school, and not having talked to anyone outside of ice breaker games, Seth's parents got worried, so they got him video games, which his parents made him play for a certain amount of time each day. He mostly played mostly survival or stealth-based games. He started breezing through them in a few hours and eventually having to make up extreme challenges to make it anything more than a cakewalk. By the end of high school, he didn't know what he wanted to do, but wanted something with precision, calculation, and something he hadn't used much before: physical work. So, he joined the army. Seth didn't take much time to reach the rank of Sergent. Once a Sergent, his talents acquired by social learning during his video game time started to shine while doing rudimentery drills. He was assigned to a top-secret military reconnisaince squad due to his exemplary time in obstacle cources and the notes of being quiet in all noises by his commanding officers. Their missions were only observe without being observed. Sometimes a "find this person" mission thrown in there. Seth was the one that was usually sent in when close-up observation was needed without being seen. By the time he was 25, he was selected to be sent out for the Sabre project. He didn't know what that meant, but Seth thought it would be more of what he was doing. He wasn't ready for what it was at first. He didn't know he would be augmented. Once he was, and after getting used to the augments, they became second nature to him, making him nearly ghost-like. Especially with the suit he was issued, which also heavily catered to his reconnaisence ability. Specializations: Natural skills- - Stealth knowledge and training - Survival knowledge and training Augments- - Silent Step: Seth's bottom half of his feet have been integrated with quieter materials so he can make no sound by stepping alone (obviously he'll make a noise if he steps on something that makes a noise. And yes, this also means he goes barefooted on his missions) and has had the nerve endings on the bottom of his feet removed. - 70% night vision: Seth's irises have been artificially enlargened to be able to see much better in the dark. - Breathing pores: Seth's trachea has been given about a dozen tubes out of it that lead to pores along his neck, allowing for slow and silent breathing. >> Retrieving most recent Psychological Evaluations. . . \| >> Done >> File extracted >> ] EXAMINER: JONATHAN S. WALSH DATE: ] Sargent Garron exhibits extreme introversion, most likely caused by an onset of high expectations, albeit external or internal factors. That being said, Garron's logical and reasoning capabilities far exceed the curve for his age group. Keeping Garron engaged in speech is increasingly difficult proportional to the amount of time the conversation lasts, and his body language is very closed and cut off. Garron opts to not talk unless he deems it necessary, and will often answer yes/no questions with head nods and shakes unless pressed for a verbal confirmation. I recommend that Garron be placed in settings where verbal communication is mandatory and vital. Social interaction is also recommended to exercise the creative half of the brain that hardly shows in any of his communication and testing.
6,403	175	57	2,192	1,228	As she stepped into the testing area Saf heard the scientists' voices calling in through the radio built into her suit's helmet, "All you have to do is eliminate the turrets." That seems a little too easy, Saf thought to herself, she'd been in the same position on the battlefield a dozen times or more. All she had to do was keep in cover and move around to the turret's weak rear side in order to shut it down. As she sood waiting for the test to start, expecting panels to rise out of the floor to provide simulated battlefield terrain, Saf was surprised to see six turrets rising up out instead. Okay, they did say turrets, now where's the cover? Without warning the turrets began firing, steady streams of energy pulses tracking round towards the soldier as she stood in the empty space between them. By reflex Saf pulled her arms up to protect her face, feeling the surge of energy from the implants inside her body as she did. Saf's shielding sprung to life just as the first pulse hit, splattering harmlessly against the glowing field surrounding her. Okay, well that works too, she thought to herself as she stood in the middle of the maelstrom of energy, unharmed thanks to the wonders of modern technology, but how do I take the turrets down? Remembering back to her mishap in the armoury Saf reached her hand out towards the nearest turret and concentrated, instantly causing a beam of light to project from the focusing len set into her palm. The beam stopped short of the turret, stabilising as a blade about a meter long. Not quite what I hoped for, she thought with a smile, So it's a sword, I can work with that. Pushing off with her leading foot Saf had planned to sprint towards the turret, but instead she found herself launched several feet into the air, leaping clear of the turrets' energy blasts as the automated guns pivoted to try and catch up with her swift movements. Quickly recovering herself Saf shifted her weight, spinning vertically in the air to drop herself down behind the turret she'd been heading for. Woah, cool, she thought, reaching back and effortlessly slicing the turret in half with her blade, before quickly darting to one side as the others locked in on her once more. This is going to be easy! Pushing herself as fast as she could move Saf darted towards the next turret, dodging from side to side to avoid getting hit by the energy bolts flying towards her from its emitter lenses. Projecting blades from both hands to slice the turret into pieces she jumped forwards through the mechanical remains, using them for cover to close with the third. In less than a minute the soldier stood standing in the middle of the training arena surrounded by the sparking and burning machine parts which moments before had been the turrets. Looking up at the surveillance cameras recording her performance Saf relaxed, letting her blades and shielding snap off leaving her in the middle of the darkened chamber, lit only by the burning debris. "Is that all you got?" She asked, smiling inside her helmet.	Name: Saffron Bridges Age: 36 Gender: Female Appearance: Personality: Saffron is an adrenaline junkie with a quick temper, always living life to the fullest. She often charges into action before considering the overall tactical situation and sometimes leaves herself in difficult situations having failed to consider the consequences of her actions. She's smart and learns quickly in a scholastic environment, but only when carefully monitored and guided to ensure her attention doesn't wander off topic. Openly homosexual, Saffron has been married to her lesbian life partner for many happy years. Biography: Seen early on as a rising star Saffron was warmly accepted into the advanced officer training program at the academy based solely on her academic results and early aptitude evaluations. She completed her training in short order, scoring highly in tactical assessments and battle simulations with her instructors making note of her unwavering bravery and dedication to her goals. Things fell apart soon after that when during her first official mission she lost over half her squad when trying to perform a suicidal frontal attack against an entrenched enemy. Placed under psychological review pending court martial she was cleared of all charges, insisting that the tactic was sound given the circumstances and the intel provided to her at the time of operational planning. Her psychiatrist agreed that she was fit to return to duty, but noted a possible Messiah Complex or megalomaniac tendencies which should be monitored in future. Returning to action Saffron found command difficult. Word of her previous failure, and rumours that she was undergoing psychological treatment, undermined her position with the troops to whom she was assigned, and despite several successful operations she soon found herself being reassigned between divisions as her superiors tried to have the black sheep placed under anyone's command but their own. Things finally reached a head when Saffron received orders for her fifth transfer in two years. Facing off with her CO what started as a calm interview soon became violent, first with angry words thrown and then punches. Once again facing court martial, this time for striking a superior officer, Saffron found herself stripped of her commission and reenlisted as a Warrant Officer. Realise this could be a breaking point in her career Saffron's psychiatrist made arrangements for her to be transferred to a specialist program which would allow the Service to make best use of her skills rather than losing her altogether. Specializations: Skills:Basic small arms training Advanced combat training in close quarters combat and swordsmanship Advanced tactical training, lapsed Experienced knowledge of military protocols and procedures Holds degrees in military history and humanities, but most of her knowledge is now outdated Expert chef Suit Augmentation - Energy Shielding Shield Armour: In combat Saffron can activate her suit's shield capacitor units encasing herself in dense optical armour which protects her from concussive and kinetic attacks. The armour reacts to impacts by diverting power to the point of pressure, making it more effective when dealing with fewer targets. When facing attacks from multiple angles the armour strains to adjust fast enough (requiring 0.3 seconds to recover from each incoming attack) but when facing sustained attacks from a single assailant the armour can shunt all available power to a single facing, making it perfect for dealing with rapid fire weaponry. Since the armour prevents material passing through it also grants limited effectiveness against area of effect attacks, such as flames, liquids and gases, however it cannot protect against high frequency energy attacks such as heat, radiation and electronic interference. Suit Augmentation - Shield Emitters Shield Projection: By focusing the shield emitters in her hands Saffron can create either walls or blades of light which can be used to either defend or attack. When using her Shield Wall ability Saffron can create upto two shields (one per hand) a meter in diameter upto a maximum of three meters away. Unlike her armour these shields are static and have a fixed protection rating but may be easily repositioned on the fly simply by moving her hands to face a new direction. Energy Blades: When using her hand emitters to generate blades Saffron focuses the power of her shields into a single, almost indestructible monomolecular surface capable of easily slicing through practically any material. As the blades are composed of pure energy they are subject to disruption from other energy sources, such as other shields and similarly powered blades. Upto two blades can be created at a time (one per hand) and as they use the same emitters as her projected shields the two systems are mutually exclusive for each hand, although Saffron often chooses to equip a shield with one hand and a blade with the other, effortlessly switching between the two in the heat of combat. Energy Wave: Saffron can choose to overload her hand shield emitters, causing them to send out a powerful burst of energy in the direction she is pointing her hand at the time of discharge. This ability requires her to shut down the shield or sword she's using for at least two seconds in order to charge the capacitor and also burns out the emitter when used, requiring a cold restart to be performed which takes several minutes. Dual Service Pistols In order to cover herself on those occasions when either she's unable to close with the enemy to use her blades or her suit is recovering from overexertion Saffron carries a pair of standard-issue service pistols as backup weapons. While she's proficient with these handguns she's in no way a marksman, often relying on sustained suppressive fire until heavier support can reach her, or her suit is back to full power and ready for some hands on action. ] Warrant Officer Bridges shows signs of developing an inferiority complex based around the perceived persecution and ostracisation she has suffered from her fellow service personnel in recent years. In regards to any anger management issues she may have, it is my belief that the recent incident was a 'flashpoint' event caused by the ongoing treatment she had been receiving and not an indication of any deeper problems. No further action is advised at this time. I highly recommend she be placed into a high-profile programme which will not only make best use of her obvious combat proficiencies but also grant her the positive exposure she requires to stabilise her condition at this time. A small, tight-knit team would be preferable as it would allow her to form meaningful bonds with her colleagues on a more intimate basis, improving her perception of her fellow soldiers. Warrant Officer Bridges is hereby declared fit for duty and has been granted permission to resume her duties as soon as possible.
6,404	175	58	899	318	Soon a voice came over his helmet "Ghost, Go through the door on your left, proceed down the hall then forth door on the left. We have a shooting gallery for you." Ghost nodded and walked off fallowing the directions he was provided as he was in a very long room, he could barely see the end of it as he tried to focus down on it, his eyes and suite zoomed in but even then. "Ok ghost we are going to bring up some sighting target,gather ammo from the table, lay down at the line, also each time you nod it gives a green conformation light, it will do this to your squad as well. Shake it and we get a red one." Ghost nodded as there was a table with clips for his gun, he moved and placed three of them on the ground before un-hooking the gun from his chest he laid it down to the right, easier to grab if need be. Soon pulling out his rifle he un-folded the bi-pod as he put the forth 10 round magazine into the clip he laid down resting it on that stand. Bringing the stock to his shoulder as he leaned his head looking through the sight of his scope. His interface came up giving him the range to the back of the wall, 6000meters...damn. "Ok so your weapon is standard affair, built in flash suppressor and that, oh so useful, sound suppressor...cause those work so well on silencing the thunder from the .50 caliber round. Good news the recoiling barrel works" This guy was a bit of a sarcastic asshole, he kind of liked him. Looking down soon a target came up in front of him, the range read out displayed 500 meters. "Ok now, hold your breath like normal, but don't stop. Your skin now can breath and provide oxygen to your heart mixing with your blood, it's safer that way as well since you can filter out toxins" Ghost paused a moment before nodding his head. He looked down his scope as he reached forward pulling the bolt of his rifle back before pushing it forward placing a round into the chamber. His finger ran along the top of the trigger guard before he brought it down, placing it over the trigger he held his breath. His scope steady he squeezed down on the trigger. There was a "silent" bang echoing through hall, though his helmet dampened the sound, his hand came up pulling the bolt back as the round was ejected and another chambered as he slid it back forward. Three the degrees, down, four to the right. After making his adjustments he pulled the trigger as it was dead on. He saved the settings before the target went down and the next one opened up at a 1000 meters, rinse repeat. He did this again for 1500, 2000, 3000 and then 5000. To think that back in the day shots like this would be deemed impossible, joys of modern tech. "Ok, so at this moment we don't just needed the gun calibrated, most of the testing we were able to do before you all got here, now we just need to test maneuverability." Ghost nodded again as he stood up, placing the the rifle back around as he then pickd up that rifle and placed the Magazines on pockets in his chest. walking back over he loaded up with three mags for his assault rife, and three for his pistol . These went into pouches on his hip. "Ok proceed to the door across the hall." Nodding he walked across the hall to the next room. Obstetrical course with targets, line at the floor as he moved up to it. Slipping a mag into his Rifle he smacked the bottom locking it in place as he looked forward through that Acog scope "Ok simple battle simulation...Have fun" Soon a red dot appeared and he flipped the rifle into single shot on his Hud before it turned green and he moved. Soon holographic targets came up, with out hesitation he rose his rifle and and squeezed off a round as the hologram went down. Shots fired at him as he moved sliding into cover. His tac display had fired, up, showing directions of the sound as he looked over, looking it marked were the sound was coming from. Popping out of cover he squeezed off a round taking them down. He moved cover to cover, sliding over obstetrical and squeezing off rounds as he moved quickly. They were intensifying the training, it started out as just a few guys at a time, now it was a god damn army, Sarcastic asshole. Dropping a mag he brought a new one into his gun before pulling back the slide to chamber the first round before moving out. He dropped his gun and pulled his pistol out as he entered a room, three shots and he moved in. He moved with efficiency as soon the hologram died down. "Ok good to go, everything held up fine. Have to say these are some of the best scores I've seen in awhile, Nearly every shot to the heart or other vitals. Good job, you can rejoin your group of marry men" Sarcastic Asshole. Ghost moved rejoining his team back in the man room and looked around before finding a crate and sitting on it. Waiting for the rest of the team to finish, though he wondered where you could go to get a good drink.	Name: Jax "Ghost Reaper" Orion Age:28 Sex:Male Personality: Ghost is a quite, reserved man, Cautious and patient believing in the saying, always appear less then you are. He tends to keep to himself and speaks mostly only when necessary. Despite that he is a very compassionate and protective. It takes him awhile to truly trust people but once he does he is very loyal to his friends and would protect them with his life. On a mission he has learned away to focus on a goal and push down all emotion, his old unit used to say he went "Ghost" which is how he earned his nickname. Biography: Jax is from a military family, his family joining the military as long as they can trace back. So it wasn't much of a surprise when he him self joined. Unlike most it was a very easy transition, but Jax wanted to challenge himself. So instead of simply enlisting as a foot soldier he shot for Spec Ops. He knew it was going to be hard, the selection process alone was hard. Only a hand full out of the hundreds of candidates even being picked. After several months he was finally selected, he shipped out and was heading for some of the most grueling training there is. He went with nearly 200 initiates, out that nearly 95% of them wouldn't make it. Training was nothing like he imagined. They would be awake for nearly a week at a time, send them on ops where they would have to sleep wherever they could. Which wasn't hard considering how tired everybody was. It was designed to test there endurance and fortitude as they were put in the worst conditions they could think up, cold, heat, even low garv situations and whatever else some sick sadistic mind thought of. In a six month training process there class was reduced down to half before the end of there 2nd month. Durning that Six months even Jax had thought about quitting, though the instructors had already starting calling him the Ghost as the apparently liked to call everyone by some sort of nickname. After awhile though time started to mean nothing. They would get a few days to rest but most spent those days studying for there the test they have to take besides the physical. It seemed like it would never end, but one day it finally came. Jax and 12 others graduated and would be placed in the field. Jax moved out and was instantly put to work. Working in special forces he spent years out on the field, earth being a distant memory as it was always one op after another. After many operations though his Commander recommended him for Scout sniper. More then just his ability it was his calm demeanor and patients. His natural ability to suppress everything and focus on his goals was also noticed as in the middle of a fire fight once he "Ghosted" it was like nothing was evening happening. This also meant more training, another six months off the field. Scout sniper training was a whole new kind of battle. They were trained to operate on there own: Survival skills, moving unseen, how to spot position, build snipers nest, how to calculate how a bullet will travel over long distances. Shooting itself was less important then knowing when to shoot. They took hours ingraining muscle memory into there habits and how to survey every situation they were in. He graduated in the top ten of his class, 6th to be more specific. But he got lucky. He was assigned a new team that was almost immediately sent out. He worked in the field before he was approached, he wasn't the best shot but he was a well rounded soldier. Because of this he was selected to join the Sabre Program. Specializations: Natural Ability: Survival skills Over watch Stealth Expert marksman Mechanical SKills Augmentations: Augmented skin: His entire epidermal lay has been lined with a thin membrane that acts as a filter as well as oxygen abosrbers and microscopic air scrubbers. This allows him to breath through his skin as well as filter the air from contaminants protecting him from most kinds of Airborne toxins. They also link up to his Suit, measuring humidity and other environmental factors Cybernetic optics: His eyes have been replaced with cybernetic ones. This gives him enhanced optics as well as giving him multiple vision modes, to include thermal, night and night. They also link directly in the optics of his helmet and and weapon allowing him to have lest visual obstructions as the three also work together to process ranges, measure wind speed even allowing him to see how much light is on him and any other information can be scent right to him. Cerebral system Inhibitor: An Implant that allows his his mind to go a week with out sleep. By systematically shutting down qudrants of the brain it allows him not to get mentally fatigued. When need be it reactivates any parts resting so that he is back at 100%. This however doesn't erase the need for sleep, after a week he will sometimes sleep for two days or longer depending on how taxing the assignment was. Saber O6: His suit is a lightweight offering less protection for more mobility as well as linking into his own augmentations. It also contains a fluids and nutrient systems for if he has to spend long periods of time in the field with out food or water, it also has a filtration system for some, other bodily functions. His suit is a self contained environment system as well, taking readings and adjusting so that he can handle almost any enviroment.
6,405	175	59	1,680	46	Jackson was excited to test his new equipment. He had seen some of the other walk off to test area to try out their suits and equipment. "Ok Jackson, we're ready to test now" A voice said through a helmet mounted microphone. Jackson walked out of the armoury and towards the designated testing area, ready for what they would throw at him. Needless to say, he was disappointed at the small room with a small pile of assorted scrap objects. "What the f...." Jackson began, but the helmet mic cut him off. "Ahem, Jackson Indar, are you ready to commence training?" The feminine voice asked. "Uh, I guess" Jackson said as he retrieved his assault rifle. "Ah, there's no need for that Indar. We know you can shoot a gun. But do take your sidearm and reload it please, just to show you understand it" Jackson obeyed and put his assault rifle back on his back, and instead took the revolver off of his leg. There were two buttons, one on either side. Jackson pressed one of the buttons and half of the barrel pushed out, revealing three chambers for cartridges. Loading them up, he did the same for the other side. "Good. Now I'd like you to use a medikit on yourself. Simply pla-" The pretentious voice began again, and Indar simple rolled his eyes and obeyed. "Yeah, yeah, I know what I'm doing" Jackson said dryly. He placed the tube against his upper arm and pressed the button on top. He felt a small prick as the microscopic needles punctured both skin and clothing, filling him with medical nanites. "Ahem, well then. For your information, medikits can also be used on others, and even through heavy armour. Now they are typically one use only, so used them wisely. But, if necessary, you, and only you, can refill them with your nanites. There will be a replacement waiting for you outside the door. Now, as you probably know, you can change scrap metals into more useful objects. Try making some of your revolver cartridges with the scrap over there. Three will do" The pretentious woman continued. Jackson sighed and approached the scrap, picking up a piece of metal. With a small bit of effort, the metal scrap turned into a battle ready cartridge. "Good job. I'm sure you've been informed of your other abilities. Underwater breathing, healing nanites. You're ready to fight Jackson" The voice finally stopped and Indar was free to leave the room. He picked up the replacement medkit and navigated back to the armoury where he came from.	Name: Jackson Indar Age: 27 Sex: Male Appearance: Personality: Jackson is a loyal and trustworthy soldier, following all commands given to him by superiors and peers. He is also intelligent and flexible, able to facilitate multiple commands and objectives at one time. He can be stubborn at times, always believing that he can save everyone. He can occasionally have a short-temper, snapping out at anything that annoys him. But if he hurts someone on his team or someone he cares for, because of his temper or not, he is quick to apologise and make up for his transgressions. He easily forgives people, but only once. Jackson is a doing person, prefering to create and execute plans then tell people how to do the plan and sit back. He also dislikes bureaucracy and logistics. Doing is more important than saying to Jackson. Biography: Born and raised on the Mars colony, Jackson was born to be in the army. He was loyal and followed orders to a T. His parents did all that they could to give him a good education and upbringing, and deed he wishes to repay. He enlisted to join the millitary the moment he was old enough and showed extreme proficiency with any firearm he wielded. His fellow soldiers all respected him and admired him. Jackson was in a great place in life. He had gotten a promotion from Officer Cadet to Lieutenant and wanted nothing other than for his effort to mean something. If he could leave a mark on this world, no matter how small, he would be happy. Higher ups in the army began observing Jackson during training exercises. Jackson couldn't remember when they first began showing up, but they would always observe Jackson during firing drills and physical exercises, scribbling notes down on their clipboards. They gave Jackson the shivers, but he payed no mind first. Obviously they would want to see how their soldiers are doing, right? But Jackson became more suspicious as time went on, always seeing them with their tablets and their clipboards. Then, at the end of a private firing drill, he was approached by a scientist and two men in suits. They simply asked him to come with them. After travelling through a maze-like facility, he was briefed on the Sabre initiative and that he had been chosen as the 7th Sabre. They told him about how he could become an ultimate soldier, selling Jackson imediately. The augmentations went without a hitch. Specializations: Skills: -Small-arms training -Advanced first-aid -Battle tactics -Three different Earth languages (French, German and Mandarin Chinese) Augmentations: Jacksons' body, skin and organs contains countless microscopic nanites who passively increase the ouput of organs and muscles and allow him several different abilities. Everything requires a certain amount of time to pass before they can be used again. These are also taxing on Jackson and cause pain when used too often. -Nanite Overshield: Jackson can use the nanites in his skin and flesh to increase small arms resistance for a short time. -Nano-Regen Device: For a short time, Jackson can use medical nanites to heal him and remove bullets imbedded in him. Also has a small radius that slowly heals teammates inside the radius (about two metres in diameter). -Nanite Fabrication: Jackson can use metalic objects to both synthesize nanites and use nanites to synthesize other objects (eg Ammo). This ability is particularly dangerous and can cause excruciating pain and even permanent defects, such as desensitization in his fingers and arms. -Nanite Respiration: Does what it says on the box, helps him breath in low oxygen environments. -Jetpack: Jacksons' suit is also equipped with a jump jet system in a pack on his back. It slowly synthesises its' own fuel if left alone for a while, but can also be manually refilled. (I don't know how balanced he is, so if you want me to change something, just say so)
6,406	175	60	2,132	362	James sighed as the others proceeded through their respective training courses, then the female voice popped in his earpiece that linked to his optic. "Alright James, you're up." He nodded quietly and stood up, proceeding to his respective training area. First off there was your basic firing range, simple enough, he strode to a booth and slapped a mag into his SMG, grasping the foregrip and pressing the stock into his shoulder. "The SMG is calibrated already, just need to get data on you." After that, targets began popping up, each one taken down with tight focused bursts. Some targets moved slightly, some dived for cover. Each one got picked off quick, and soon the range was empty, his clip included. "Grab your shotgun, that needs to be tested." He nodded and strode back to the door, then turned toward the next range, only to see a holo jump out at him. Quick as a wink he flicked his shotgun up and squeezed the trigger, blasting the target with buckshot, though when it hit the wall, it burned through the metal. "Thermite ammo...Nice." He said quietly, the voice popped up again, with a cockier tone. "Like my trick?" He shook his head and sighed, this one thought they were witty? "Not really, pretty boring." He smiled in his rebuttal, waiting for her to be offended, but she didn't. Instead she ushered him to a room with drones and stationary targets. "Take a charge and jack one of the drone turrets here, then order it to take out a target, then make it destroy itself." He nodded and slapped a charge on the closest turret, stepping back as he remotely detonated it, and watched as nanites seep into the machinery, slowly taking it over as the info of the turret popped into his HUD. "Freaky shit.." He thought aloud as he watched the final processes be under his command. "Alright, lets do this shit." He ordered it to destroy the targets, which it did, but when it shot the turret. The turret registered as friendly after the first shot, the nanites had coated the ammo and now act as a virus, infecting the machine it attacks. "Impressed?" the female voice asked, rather proud of herself. He nodded and chuckled "Color me impressed miss, that's fucking amazing. Even in college this shit was just a theory." She replied smoothly with a curt "Yes, but now we need to see how it works on moving units, don't worry, nothing will try and kill you." In his thoughts were the words: 'That is reassuring..' he sighed and proceeded forward as he saw a large tank-like drone (envision one of the drones from Black Ops 2). "Just place a charge." He did so, placed a charge, detonated it, soon he had control of this as well. He then ordered it to move, he had to sigh of boredom. Primarily since he was used to thick jungles and every day being a risk. "Soon you'll be in-field 05, just be patient, now command the drone to move and shoot." Using the interface he had in his optic, he did so. Though the machine didn't fire, instead in informed him it lacked ammo. The voice came up again. "Alright, thats good on interface testing, your personal drone is in the next room, use your retinal interface to take over the drone and see the room." She lied, he was watching the armory, everyone registered as friendlies on the drones FFID software. Then he heard the sound of holo footsteps, and immediately hid behind his larger drone. "Use one of your Seeker Mines to handle these holograms." He nodded and rolled it towards the noise, only hearing the thump of it launching, and the miniature explosions from its cluster bombs hitting the ground. "Alright James, you're good. All data calibrated." He nodded and returned to his allies, impressed with what was available, and how quick his interface went on and off.	Sabre-05, ready for service. Military rank Lt. Name James Mathias Alexander Age 31 Sex Male Appearance Height: 1.828m. Weight: 88kg. Personality Chaotic Good James is one who seems to be a lunatic fringe, but he is actually rather stable. His mind is just that of an aggressor, one who thrills on combat. When it hits the fan however, he becomes calm, trading his pressuring aggression for level headed thought processes. He is extremely intelligent and is great at following orders. Even with his aggression, he will calm it if ordered. Skills James excels at a tactic one could call Combat Control. He uses various gadgets, a small armed drone and many other tools to herd enemies so they can be flanked, mowed down, or simply tricked to allow the team time to escape. He has augmentations and his SDS has even more tools to give him the required angles, and the edge to win. He also excels at isolating a target with concentrated fire, he can then eliminate them himself, or allow someone else to handle it. With his implants and augs, he is truly a powerful ally to have on the field, and the enemy to fear. SDS-05: The SDS-05 is built for James, composed of a nano-fiber weave, it also houses more space for his equipment, and a holster for his drone on his right shoulder. the optic that would sit in front of his eye gives him a display of a consistent diagnostic of his drone and his other tools, and equipment his nanites have “Possessed”. The suit furthers his ability to control the combat. Biography James was born on the Upper Troposphere of Earth, if they were on the surface, the area would have been that of Europe. He was born of English ethnicity, both sides of his family were heavy on males enlisting, so he was raised to train hard for his day of enlistment. To his family, it was a rite of passage into adulthood. His prominence for the physical aspect showed for the military early in his teens. His psych evaluation was rather good too, but after getting older, James left for college, getting a masters degree in Robotics, and a bachelors degree in Nanotechnology. Then hurrying to the military and, thankfully he kept in good shape and went through Basic smoothly. His skills with firearms, drones and nano-warfare earned him a good place in the S.A.S (Secret Air Service) as an Unconventional Combat Specialist, using various nano-based pyrotechnics, A.I. driven grenades, mines, and other tools. The Service put his talent with tech to immediate use, inserting him with small teams into enemy territory to sabotage enemy vehicles and equipment with nanites that he could order to “eat” the metals of them, leaving nothing but non-metallic treads, rubber on the tires...You name it, if it doesn’t have metal. It stays, if it does, it’s gone for good. He can also have them take over the wiring of the machine, and it’s command software. giving him control over the nanite-infested vehicles and equipment from afar. He served in the Service for three years, then he was pulled out for a new assignment. The op was more hush-hush than he liked, but command gave the order. He had to follow it, so he went off to this op, following orders and patiently waiting to be given his orders. To him, loyalty is everything, without it, you aren’t human. When he got in the Sabre project, his had the winged dagger of the SAS stitched into his uniform. He will never forget his roots. Ever. Augmentations: Retinal Projection and Enhancement Implant: This implant allows him to project his eyesight through his drone by amplifying the electrical impulses sent to the eye by the Retina, and sending them in the form of a data signal to whatever drone he aims to see through. The implant also amplifies his eyesight, giving him an edge in low-light situations. Direct Neural Projection Device: This implant projects the neural impulses of his brain to his drones, giving him direct manual control over his drone and allowed him to use it to peek around corners, or get to where a human body cannot. Genetic Augmentations: James has an augmentation to his cardiovascular system, enhancing his endurance and making it more difficult to get winded by combat (i.e. winded by a punch, explosives, etc.). He has a neural augmentation that enhances his reflexes, increasing his reaction times exponentially. He also has an aug that enhances his muscular functionality, giving him slightly increased strength, but more so reducing the chances of his muscles tearing and pulling, or even cramping. Equipment James has one personal combat drone he controls manually, it isn’t extremely large, about the size and shape of a 63cm diameter pan, the drone has many tools that make it a versatile unit. Such as a tazer, sub-machine gun, a small grenade launcher, and a small flash function that blinds a target. The drone has the A.I. of a dog, following his orders only, and it has a tendency to make sounds similar to barking, and it nuzzles someone when it wants to notice them. The A.I. is sentient, so it likes, and dislikes others. Seeker Mines: A.I. guided mines that when they find a target, roll to them, launch into the air, and launch a cluster bomb on a group or one target. Wrist-mounted launcher: This launcher can house many tools, but the one he usually has is called The Anchor, it’s a grappling hook with a nano-titanium wire and hook, that is able to hold his body weight and give him another angle on the fight, or displace a foe.
6,407	175	61	2,192	1,228	Walking back down to her locker after finishing her training session Saf almost bumped into Sgt. Garron. "Whoa, sorry I didn't..." She started to say, holding her hand up by way of apology. Immediately her suit took over, projecting a shield wall forwards and pinning Seth back against the rack of guns behind him. For a moment Saf didn't know what was happening, before recognising the golden yellow glow which surrounded her own suit being created in front of her. Gentle lowering her hand she watched the wall fade into nonexistence before bending down towards where Seth lay crumpled on the floor, "Sorry about that too... I guess these suits will take a little getting used to." She said with as friendly a tone as she could, holding her hand out and offering to help her teammate back up onto his feet.	Name: Saffron Bridges Age: 36 Gender: Female Appearance: Personality: Saffron is an adrenaline junkie with a quick temper, always living life to the fullest. She often charges into action before considering the overall tactical situation and sometimes leaves herself in difficult situations having failed to consider the consequences of her actions. She's smart and learns quickly in a scholastic environment, but only when carefully monitored and guided to ensure her attention doesn't wander off topic. Openly homosexual, Saffron has been married to her lesbian life partner for many happy years. Biography: Seen early on as a rising star Saffron was warmly accepted into the advanced officer training program at the academy based solely on her academic results and early aptitude evaluations. She completed her training in short order, scoring highly in tactical assessments and battle simulations with her instructors making note of her unwavering bravery and dedication to her goals. Things fell apart soon after that when during her first official mission she lost over half her squad when trying to perform a suicidal frontal attack against an entrenched enemy. Placed under psychological review pending court martial she was cleared of all charges, insisting that the tactic was sound given the circumstances and the intel provided to her at the time of operational planning. Her psychiatrist agreed that she was fit to return to duty, but noted a possible Messiah Complex or megalomaniac tendencies which should be monitored in future. Returning to action Saffron found command difficult. Word of her previous failure, and rumours that she was undergoing psychological treatment, undermined her position with the troops to whom she was assigned, and despite several successful operations she soon found herself being reassigned between divisions as her superiors tried to have the black sheep placed under anyone's command but their own. Things finally reached a head when Saffron received orders for her fifth transfer in two years. Facing off with her CO what started as a calm interview soon became violent, first with angry words thrown and then punches. Once again facing court martial, this time for striking a superior officer, Saffron found herself stripped of her commission and reenlisted as a Warrant Officer. Realise this could be a breaking point in her career Saffron's psychiatrist made arrangements for her to be transferred to a specialist program which would allow the Service to make best use of her skills rather than losing her altogether. Specializations: Skills:Basic small arms training Advanced combat training in close quarters combat and swordsmanship Advanced tactical training, lapsed Experienced knowledge of military protocols and procedures Holds degrees in military history and humanities, but most of her knowledge is now outdated Expert chef Suit Augmentation - Energy Shielding Shield Armour: In combat Saffron can activate her suit's shield capacitor units encasing herself in dense optical armour which protects her from concussive and kinetic attacks. The armour reacts to impacts by diverting power to the point of pressure, making it more effective when dealing with fewer targets. When facing attacks from multiple angles the armour strains to adjust fast enough (requiring 0.3 seconds to recover from each incoming attack) but when facing sustained attacks from a single assailant the armour can shunt all available power to a single facing, making it perfect for dealing with rapid fire weaponry. Since the armour prevents material passing through it also grants limited effectiveness against area of effect attacks, such as flames, liquids and gases, however it cannot protect against high frequency energy attacks such as heat, radiation and electronic interference. Suit Augmentation - Shield Emitters Shield Projection: By focusing the shield emitters in her hands Saffron can create either walls or blades of light which can be used to either defend or attack. When using her Shield Wall ability Saffron can create upto two shields (one per hand) a meter in diameter upto a maximum of three meters away. Unlike her armour these shields are static and have a fixed protection rating but may be easily repositioned on the fly simply by moving her hands to face a new direction. Energy Blades: When using her hand emitters to generate blades Saffron focuses the power of her shields into a single, almost indestructible monomolecular surface capable of easily slicing through practically any material. As the blades are composed of pure energy they are subject to disruption from other energy sources, such as other shields and similarly powered blades. Upto two blades can be created at a time (one per hand) and as they use the same emitters as her projected shields the two systems are mutually exclusive for each hand, although Saffron often chooses to equip a shield with one hand and a blade with the other, effortlessly switching between the two in the heat of combat. Energy Wave: Saffron can choose to overload her hand shield emitters, causing them to send out a powerful burst of energy in the direction she is pointing her hand at the time of discharge. This ability requires her to shut down the shield or sword she's using for at least two seconds in order to charge the capacitor and also burns out the emitter when used, requiring a cold restart to be performed which takes several minutes. Dual Service Pistols In order to cover herself on those occasions when either she's unable to close with the enemy to use her blades or her suit is recovering from overexertion Saffron carries a pair of standard-issue service pistols as backup weapons. While she's proficient with these handguns she's in no way a marksman, often relying on sustained suppressive fire until heavier support can reach her, or her suit is back to full power and ready for some hands on action. ] Warrant Officer Bridges shows signs of developing an inferiority complex based around the perceived persecution and ostracisation she has suffered from her fellow service personnel in recent years. In regards to any anger management issues she may have, it is my belief that the recent incident was a 'flashpoint' event caused by the ongoing treatment she had been receiving and not an indication of any deeper problems. No further action is advised at this time. I highly recommend she be placed into a high-profile programme which will not only make best use of her obvious combat proficiencies but also grant her the positive exposure she requires to stabilise her condition at this time. A small, tight-knit team would be preferable as it would allow her to form meaningful bonds with her colleagues on a more intimate basis, improving her perception of her fellow soldiers. Warrant Officer Bridges is hereby declared fit for duty and has been granted permission to resume her duties as soon as possible.
6,408	175	62	681	986	Seth didn't notice 09 walk by, but was going to wave off her apology. He wasn't able to due to the wall of energy her outstretched hand created, which, due to the force of its creation, pinned Seth against the weapons rack with his feet an inch or two off the ground. Once the female teammate realized it was her suit that had created the hard place that pinned Seth between it and the rock that was the weapons rack, she made it disappear with a releasing gesture. Once gone, Seth fell to the ground, catching himself on one foot and one knee. He was still getting used to the lack of nerve endings on his feet bottoms, or he would have stayed up on his feet. Interesting, gesture-based restricted energy fields. Useful for defensive and offensive tactics. Exponentially so for defensive, yet innovative uses may create more offensive possibilities. Note made. 09 seems to offer help and friendliness, which may just due to the fact that I haven't said anything towards her, forcing paranoia of possible negative feelings. Previously noted to keep her in a positive mood while outside combat to avoid possible battlefield quarrels; therefore, accepting her help and reciprocating positive attitude towards her would be most beneficial to avoiding possible future volatility. After deliberating and rationalizing, while feigning impact shock, Seth clasped his hand on the woman's forearm and used his own strength to get up, releasing once he regained balance. "Agreed." Nodding with a slight, forced smile, Seth checked his person to make sure nothing fell out, namely his boot-knife. That's all he saw as necessary to reply to 09's talk of the calibration of the self-to-suit integration. Small talk didn't interest him, but analysing the rest of the team's post-calibration conditions would seem to be priority, as there would be hurdles to overcome with having suits that acted as though they were exoskeletons for each person, enhancing their natural abilities further than the augmentations done on them have. Remembering the pores on his neck and the fact that they'd put a gauze pad over them post-operation, Seth lowered his suit's neck line to take off the gauze and test out his new breathing abilities. After sliding the neck line up, he was able to breathe without inhaling from his nose or mouth. After a few moments of consciously switching breathing patterns around, he was able to balance the pore-breathing and nostril breathing, causing almost no noticeable breathing noise from him. Almost completely silent when standing still and moving, with his feet made to make as close to no noise as possible.	Name: Seth Garron Age: 26 Sex: Male All clothing as well as the mask are black. Equiped with Chameleon-tech camoflage abilities built-in. Personality: Seth acts like he does on the battlefield- quiet. When Seth does talk, it's in a hushed tone. He's cold, calculative, and efficient, so don't get in his way. This distances people that first meet Seth, but nobody's really gotten to know him since elementary school. Details in Bio, but he used to be just a goofy nerd with other nerdy frineds. Biography: In elementary school, Seth was one of the coolest nerds, making friends and doing school stuff. By 5th grade, others had moved on to hanging out at peoples' houses, but because of his strict parents, Seth couldn't go. By 6th grade, he had all but refused to do school work and was nearly expelled. Something switched. From that point on, his devoted all energy not spent eating and sleeping went into school work. By high school, and not having talked to anyone outside of ice breaker games, Seth's parents got worried, so they got him video games, which his parents made him play for a certain amount of time each day. He mostly played mostly survival or stealth-based games. He started breezing through them in a few hours and eventually having to make up extreme challenges to make it anything more than a cakewalk. By the end of high school, he didn't know what he wanted to do, but wanted something with precision, calculation, and something he hadn't used much before: physical work. So, he joined the army. Seth didn't take much time to reach the rank of Sergent. Once a Sergent, his talents acquired by social learning during his video game time started to shine while doing rudimentery drills. He was assigned to a top-secret military reconnisaince squad due to his exemplary time in obstacle cources and the notes of being quiet in all noises by his commanding officers. Their missions were only observe without being observed. Sometimes a "find this person" mission thrown in there. Seth was the one that was usually sent in when close-up observation was needed without being seen. By the time he was 25, he was selected to be sent out for the Sabre project. He didn't know what that meant, but Seth thought it would be more of what he was doing. He wasn't ready for what it was at first. He didn't know he would be augmented. Once he was, and after getting used to the augments, they became second nature to him, making him nearly ghost-like. Especially with the suit he was issued, which also heavily catered to his reconnaisence ability. Specializations: Natural skills- - Stealth knowledge and training - Survival knowledge and training Augments- - Silent Step: Seth's bottom half of his feet have been integrated with quieter materials so he can make no sound by stepping alone (obviously he'll make a noise if he steps on something that makes a noise. And yes, this also means he goes barefooted on his missions) and has had the nerve endings on the bottom of his feet removed. - 70% night vision: Seth's irises have been artificially enlargened to be able to see much better in the dark. - Breathing pores: Seth's trachea has been given about a dozen tubes out of it that lead to pores along his neck, allowing for slow and silent breathing. >> Retrieving most recent Psychological Evaluations. . . \| >> Done >> File extracted >> ] EXAMINER: JONATHAN S. WALSH DATE: ] Sargent Garron exhibits extreme introversion, most likely caused by an onset of high expectations, albeit external or internal factors. That being said, Garron's logical and reasoning capabilities far exceed the curve for his age group. Keeping Garron engaged in speech is increasingly difficult proportional to the amount of time the conversation lasts, and his body language is very closed and cut off. Garron opts to not talk unless he deems it necessary, and will often answer yes/no questions with head nods and shakes unless pressed for a verbal confirmation. I recommend that Garron be placed in settings where verbal communication is mandatory and vital. Social interaction is also recommended to exercise the creative half of the brain that hardly shows in any of his communication and testing.
6,409	175	63	2,192	1,228	After helping Sgt. Garron to his feet Saf was a little unnerved by his unnatural smile and quickly turned her gaze away glancing down the row of lockers at the other Sabers before turning back to the strong silent one in front of her, "So, what toys did they give you?" She asked as Sgt. Garron picked at something on his neck. As she waited for a response something seemed... wrong with the former sergeant, and for a moment Saf couldn't quite place her finger on what it was, but suddenly it dawned on her. "Hey, are you alright?" She asked, her voice worried as she reached forwards and took hold of Sgt. Garron's arm, "Did you stop breathing or something?"	Name: Saffron Bridges Age: 36 Gender: Female Appearance: Personality: Saffron is an adrenaline junkie with a quick temper, always living life to the fullest. She often charges into action before considering the overall tactical situation and sometimes leaves herself in difficult situations having failed to consider the consequences of her actions. She's smart and learns quickly in a scholastic environment, but only when carefully monitored and guided to ensure her attention doesn't wander off topic. Openly homosexual, Saffron has been married to her lesbian life partner for many happy years. Biography: Seen early on as a rising star Saffron was warmly accepted into the advanced officer training program at the academy based solely on her academic results and early aptitude evaluations. She completed her training in short order, scoring highly in tactical assessments and battle simulations with her instructors making note of her unwavering bravery and dedication to her goals. Things fell apart soon after that when during her first official mission she lost over half her squad when trying to perform a suicidal frontal attack against an entrenched enemy. Placed under psychological review pending court martial she was cleared of all charges, insisting that the tactic was sound given the circumstances and the intel provided to her at the time of operational planning. Her psychiatrist agreed that she was fit to return to duty, but noted a possible Messiah Complex or megalomaniac tendencies which should be monitored in future. Returning to action Saffron found command difficult. Word of her previous failure, and rumours that she was undergoing psychological treatment, undermined her position with the troops to whom she was assigned, and despite several successful operations she soon found herself being reassigned between divisions as her superiors tried to have the black sheep placed under anyone's command but their own. Things finally reached a head when Saffron received orders for her fifth transfer in two years. Facing off with her CO what started as a calm interview soon became violent, first with angry words thrown and then punches. Once again facing court martial, this time for striking a superior officer, Saffron found herself stripped of her commission and reenlisted as a Warrant Officer. Realise this could be a breaking point in her career Saffron's psychiatrist made arrangements for her to be transferred to a specialist program which would allow the Service to make best use of her skills rather than losing her altogether. Specializations: Skills:Basic small arms training Advanced combat training in close quarters combat and swordsmanship Advanced tactical training, lapsed Experienced knowledge of military protocols and procedures Holds degrees in military history and humanities, but most of her knowledge is now outdated Expert chef Suit Augmentation - Energy Shielding Shield Armour: In combat Saffron can activate her suit's shield capacitor units encasing herself in dense optical armour which protects her from concussive and kinetic attacks. The armour reacts to impacts by diverting power to the point of pressure, making it more effective when dealing with fewer targets. When facing attacks from multiple angles the armour strains to adjust fast enough (requiring 0.3 seconds to recover from each incoming attack) but when facing sustained attacks from a single assailant the armour can shunt all available power to a single facing, making it perfect for dealing with rapid fire weaponry. Since the armour prevents material passing through it also grants limited effectiveness against area of effect attacks, such as flames, liquids and gases, however it cannot protect against high frequency energy attacks such as heat, radiation and electronic interference. Suit Augmentation - Shield Emitters Shield Projection: By focusing the shield emitters in her hands Saffron can create either walls or blades of light which can be used to either defend or attack. When using her Shield Wall ability Saffron can create upto two shields (one per hand) a meter in diameter upto a maximum of three meters away. Unlike her armour these shields are static and have a fixed protection rating but may be easily repositioned on the fly simply by moving her hands to face a new direction. Energy Blades: When using her hand emitters to generate blades Saffron focuses the power of her shields into a single, almost indestructible monomolecular surface capable of easily slicing through practically any material. As the blades are composed of pure energy they are subject to disruption from other energy sources, such as other shields and similarly powered blades. Upto two blades can be created at a time (one per hand) and as they use the same emitters as her projected shields the two systems are mutually exclusive for each hand, although Saffron often chooses to equip a shield with one hand and a blade with the other, effortlessly switching between the two in the heat of combat. Energy Wave: Saffron can choose to overload her hand shield emitters, causing them to send out a powerful burst of energy in the direction she is pointing her hand at the time of discharge. This ability requires her to shut down the shield or sword she's using for at least two seconds in order to charge the capacitor and also burns out the emitter when used, requiring a cold restart to be performed which takes several minutes. Dual Service Pistols In order to cover herself on those occasions when either she's unable to close with the enemy to use her blades or her suit is recovering from overexertion Saffron carries a pair of standard-issue service pistols as backup weapons. While she's proficient with these handguns she's in no way a marksman, often relying on sustained suppressive fire until heavier support can reach her, or her suit is back to full power and ready for some hands on action. ] Warrant Officer Bridges shows signs of developing an inferiority complex based around the perceived persecution and ostracisation she has suffered from her fellow service personnel in recent years. In regards to any anger management issues she may have, it is my belief that the recent incident was a 'flashpoint' event caused by the ongoing treatment she had been receiving and not an indication of any deeper problems. No further action is advised at this time. I highly recommend she be placed into a high-profile programme which will not only make best use of her obvious combat proficiencies but also grant her the positive exposure she requires to stabilise her condition at this time. A small, tight-knit team would be preferable as it would allow her to form meaningful bonds with her colleagues on a more intimate basis, improving her perception of her fellow soldiers. Warrant Officer Bridges is hereby declared fit for duty and has been granted permission to resume her duties as soon as possible.
6,410	175	64	681	986	Seth cocked an eyebrow and pulled his arm from 09's grasp. "Breathing pores: allows near-silent breathing." Deciding that it's courteous to continue to answer her question, Seth adds, "synthetic foot pads: silent steps when barefoot. Seventy-percent nightvision mode. Chameleon camo function in suit. ... Yours?" Getting through everything with minimal wording, Seth figures it's customary in conversation to ask the other about a subject with which each can describe, list, or otherwise talk about. This is the most interaction Seth has had with a live female since before his right brain shut down. Interesting. Compassionate towards teammates, even though volatile. Not afraid to cause pain nor relieve it. Very interesting dynamic. Or simply trying to gain favor after the events in the briefing room. Should keep an eye on emotional levels throughout the training mission. Find high and low points and their causes. Seth nods at 09 before turning and joining the others who have finished their self-suit integration calibration.	Name: Seth Garron Age: 26 Sex: Male All clothing as well as the mask are black. Equiped with Chameleon-tech camoflage abilities built-in. Personality: Seth acts like he does on the battlefield- quiet. When Seth does talk, it's in a hushed tone. He's cold, calculative, and efficient, so don't get in his way. This distances people that first meet Seth, but nobody's really gotten to know him since elementary school. Details in Bio, but he used to be just a goofy nerd with other nerdy frineds. Biography: In elementary school, Seth was one of the coolest nerds, making friends and doing school stuff. By 5th grade, others had moved on to hanging out at peoples' houses, but because of his strict parents, Seth couldn't go. By 6th grade, he had all but refused to do school work and was nearly expelled. Something switched. From that point on, his devoted all energy not spent eating and sleeping went into school work. By high school, and not having talked to anyone outside of ice breaker games, Seth's parents got worried, so they got him video games, which his parents made him play for a certain amount of time each day. He mostly played mostly survival or stealth-based games. He started breezing through them in a few hours and eventually having to make up extreme challenges to make it anything more than a cakewalk. By the end of high school, he didn't know what he wanted to do, but wanted something with precision, calculation, and something he hadn't used much before: physical work. So, he joined the army. Seth didn't take much time to reach the rank of Sergent. Once a Sergent, his talents acquired by social learning during his video game time started to shine while doing rudimentery drills. He was assigned to a top-secret military reconnisaince squad due to his exemplary time in obstacle cources and the notes of being quiet in all noises by his commanding officers. Their missions were only observe without being observed. Sometimes a "find this person" mission thrown in there. Seth was the one that was usually sent in when close-up observation was needed without being seen. By the time he was 25, he was selected to be sent out for the Sabre project. He didn't know what that meant, but Seth thought it would be more of what he was doing. He wasn't ready for what it was at first. He didn't know he would be augmented. Once he was, and after getting used to the augments, they became second nature to him, making him nearly ghost-like. Especially with the suit he was issued, which also heavily catered to his reconnaisence ability. Specializations: Natural skills- - Stealth knowledge and training - Survival knowledge and training Augments- - Silent Step: Seth's bottom half of his feet have been integrated with quieter materials so he can make no sound by stepping alone (obviously he'll make a noise if he steps on something that makes a noise. And yes, this also means he goes barefooted on his missions) and has had the nerve endings on the bottom of his feet removed. - 70% night vision: Seth's irises have been artificially enlargened to be able to see much better in the dark. - Breathing pores: Seth's trachea has been given about a dozen tubes out of it that lead to pores along his neck, allowing for slow and silent breathing. >> Retrieving most recent Psychological Evaluations. . . \| >> Done >> File extracted >> ] EXAMINER: JONATHAN S. WALSH DATE: ] Sargent Garron exhibits extreme introversion, most likely caused by an onset of high expectations, albeit external or internal factors. That being said, Garron's logical and reasoning capabilities far exceed the curve for his age group. Keeping Garron engaged in speech is increasingly difficult proportional to the amount of time the conversation lasts, and his body language is very closed and cut off. Garron opts to not talk unless he deems it necessary, and will often answer yes/no questions with head nods and shakes unless pressed for a verbal confirmation. I recommend that Garron be placed in settings where verbal communication is mandatory and vital. Social interaction is also recommended to exercise the creative half of the brain that hardly shows in any of his communication and testing.
6,411	175	65	2,192	1,228	Lifting her arms Saf activated her shielding and her blades, giving Sgt. Garron the full light show. "Protective shields and what I think are variable-yield emitters in the gauntlets. I'm still getting a hang on those." As she explained the Warrant Officer tried imagining different sized blades and to her delight the long sharp beams shortened and widened, changing from what she thought of as lances to machetes and finally to shovels. When she tried to pull them back further a gauge suddenly appeared on her HUD and the gauntlets whined for a moment before sending a wave of force up into the ceiling, leaving a noticeable dent in the armoured plating there. "Okay, and they can be overcharged to act as some sort of recharging ranged attack." She said, watching as the gauge slowly began to shrink. Saf tried to activate her blades again but the emitters just glowed weakly for a moment before cutting out. "Gotta be careful with that though, seems it breaks the blade emitters at least for a short while, there's a gauge here that seems to be indicating the recovery time." Saf tapped at her faceplate to indicate to Sgt. Garron what she was talking about, as she knew the HUD was probably an internal projection not visible to others. "There's also some sort of rainbow strength gauge over here," She continued, moving her hand to the other side of her helmet, "Which I think is something to do with the shielding. It flickered slightly while under constant attack by six training turrets, but I've no idea how much of an indication of actual shield strength." Turning to look over Sgt. Garron's shoulder Saf called down the room to the Sabre standing at the locker beside hers. "Hey, Dr. Sigmund? You said earlier you were involved with the creation of these... systems," She said, waving her hand down the front of the top-of-the-line, form-fitting, technological marvel of a cybersuit, "I was just wondering what the maximum protective power the shielding on my suit could withstand? In terms a soldier could understand, if you can."	Name: Saffron Bridges Age: 36 Gender: Female Appearance: Personality: Saffron is an adrenaline junkie with a quick temper, always living life to the fullest. She often charges into action before considering the overall tactical situation and sometimes leaves herself in difficult situations having failed to consider the consequences of her actions. She's smart and learns quickly in a scholastic environment, but only when carefully monitored and guided to ensure her attention doesn't wander off topic. Openly homosexual, Saffron has been married to her lesbian life partner for many happy years. Biography: Seen early on as a rising star Saffron was warmly accepted into the advanced officer training program at the academy based solely on her academic results and early aptitude evaluations. She completed her training in short order, scoring highly in tactical assessments and battle simulations with her instructors making note of her unwavering bravery and dedication to her goals. Things fell apart soon after that when during her first official mission she lost over half her squad when trying to perform a suicidal frontal attack against an entrenched enemy. Placed under psychological review pending court martial she was cleared of all charges, insisting that the tactic was sound given the circumstances and the intel provided to her at the time of operational planning. Her psychiatrist agreed that she was fit to return to duty, but noted a possible Messiah Complex or megalomaniac tendencies which should be monitored in future. Returning to action Saffron found command difficult. Word of her previous failure, and rumours that she was undergoing psychological treatment, undermined her position with the troops to whom she was assigned, and despite several successful operations she soon found herself being reassigned between divisions as her superiors tried to have the black sheep placed under anyone's command but their own. Things finally reached a head when Saffron received orders for her fifth transfer in two years. Facing off with her CO what started as a calm interview soon became violent, first with angry words thrown and then punches. Once again facing court martial, this time for striking a superior officer, Saffron found herself stripped of her commission and reenlisted as a Warrant Officer. Realise this could be a breaking point in her career Saffron's psychiatrist made arrangements for her to be transferred to a specialist program which would allow the Service to make best use of her skills rather than losing her altogether. Specializations: Skills:Basic small arms training Advanced combat training in close quarters combat and swordsmanship Advanced tactical training, lapsed Experienced knowledge of military protocols and procedures Holds degrees in military history and humanities, but most of her knowledge is now outdated Expert chef Suit Augmentation - Energy Shielding Shield Armour: In combat Saffron can activate her suit's shield capacitor units encasing herself in dense optical armour which protects her from concussive and kinetic attacks. The armour reacts to impacts by diverting power to the point of pressure, making it more effective when dealing with fewer targets. When facing attacks from multiple angles the armour strains to adjust fast enough (requiring 0.3 seconds to recover from each incoming attack) but when facing sustained attacks from a single assailant the armour can shunt all available power to a single facing, making it perfect for dealing with rapid fire weaponry. Since the armour prevents material passing through it also grants limited effectiveness against area of effect attacks, such as flames, liquids and gases, however it cannot protect against high frequency energy attacks such as heat, radiation and electronic interference. Suit Augmentation - Shield Emitters Shield Projection: By focusing the shield emitters in her hands Saffron can create either walls or blades of light which can be used to either defend or attack. When using her Shield Wall ability Saffron can create upto two shields (one per hand) a meter in diameter upto a maximum of three meters away. Unlike her armour these shields are static and have a fixed protection rating but may be easily repositioned on the fly simply by moving her hands to face a new direction. Energy Blades: When using her hand emitters to generate blades Saffron focuses the power of her shields into a single, almost indestructible monomolecular surface capable of easily slicing through practically any material. As the blades are composed of pure energy they are subject to disruption from other energy sources, such as other shields and similarly powered blades. Upto two blades can be created at a time (one per hand) and as they use the same emitters as her projected shields the two systems are mutually exclusive for each hand, although Saffron often chooses to equip a shield with one hand and a blade with the other, effortlessly switching between the two in the heat of combat. Energy Wave: Saffron can choose to overload her hand shield emitters, causing them to send out a powerful burst of energy in the direction she is pointing her hand at the time of discharge. This ability requires her to shut down the shield or sword she's using for at least two seconds in order to charge the capacitor and also burns out the emitter when used, requiring a cold restart to be performed which takes several minutes. Dual Service Pistols In order to cover herself on those occasions when either she's unable to close with the enemy to use her blades or her suit is recovering from overexertion Saffron carries a pair of standard-issue service pistols as backup weapons. While she's proficient with these handguns she's in no way a marksman, often relying on sustained suppressive fire until heavier support can reach her, or her suit is back to full power and ready for some hands on action. ] Warrant Officer Bridges shows signs of developing an inferiority complex based around the perceived persecution and ostracisation she has suffered from her fellow service personnel in recent years. In regards to any anger management issues she may have, it is my belief that the recent incident was a 'flashpoint' event caused by the ongoing treatment she had been receiving and not an indication of any deeper problems. No further action is advised at this time. I highly recommend she be placed into a high-profile programme which will not only make best use of her obvious combat proficiencies but also grant her the positive exposure she requires to stabilise her condition at this time. A small, tight-knit team would be preferable as it would allow her to form meaningful bonds with her colleagues on a more intimate basis, improving her perception of her fellow soldiers. Warrant Officer Bridges is hereby declared fit for duty and has been granted permission to resume her duties as soon as possible.
6,412	175	66	1,380	1,423	Well, the short answer is 'a lot.' More so than the rest of us, actually. The doctor responded from the front of the testing course. He, alongside Scott, were already used to the suits. His voice echoed through the helms of all the Sabres as he spoke through radio. "Each suit was designed to compliment your strengths while covering your weaknesses. The capabilities of offense, defense, mobility and utility appropriately vary among all of us to begin with, and so too should any equipment you use."	Accessing database ************9264-08, Operation Shadow-Sabre Unit S08 dosier... Access complete, Loading... -Beta Stage: 7th, June, 4598 Notes Sabre-08 Military Rank None (Formally, Dr.) Name Cyprian Sigmund Age 37 Sex Male Appearance Cyprian stands at 182.88cm, and weighs 74.8427kg. His snow white hair hangs unkempt, barely reaching his bright blue eyes, and surpassing his ears. His face is rather sharp and lean in shape, but in no way malnourished or otherwise deprived. His broad shoulders and confident posture contradict his lack of significant muscle. One would not pin his body type to be that of a soldier. When not deployed, Cyprian wears a white and gray lab coat, black slacks, and black shoes. His attire is designed to stave off harmful chemicals. Personality Neutral Good Cyprian is a scientist first and foremost. Even as a Sabre, his job is that of his previous fields of expertise. He sees the Sabre project as not only a team, but a new opportunity for learning and experimentation. His optimism might slightly annoy the other Sabres at times, but they will quickly see his devotion towards making sure everyone gets home in one piece. Biography DOB: 12th, December, 4560 Sigmund was born and resided in Asteroid Sector 2575920-19485 until the age of seventeen . There he attended standard primary and secondary tier education, showing exceptional academic skill in mathematical and scientific fields of study. At the age of seventeen , Sigmund relocated to the Martian Institute of Information Technology and Sciences. Until the age of thirty-seven , Sigmund maintained a 4.00GPA in all fields of study. However, his PhD's are only in the following fields. Note that each field is a broad spectrum, and each contains multiple actual doctoral studies: Engineering Computer and Information Science Mathematics Astronomy Atmospheric Science and Meteorology Chemistry Physics Dr. Sigmund's accomplishments in his doctoral studies is of great interest to Dr.. Sigmund is to be contacted by Sabre-Recruitment Team, and deployed as Sabre 08. Specializations Skills Sigmund's vast intelligence and technological skills will be an asset to the Sabre Project. Subject has shown the ability to self-teach and therein operate foreign computer systems, recall inhuman amounts of information and knowledge with no outside aid, and has hundreds of patented inventions related to his fields of degrees. Augmentations Due to his role on the Sabre Project, Sigmund has received little in the way of Sabre-level augmentation, not receiving augs designed for combat.: Model AJHAP-255910 Electronic Sensory Nodes Implanted into cerebral cortex, enhancement of thought process and speed. Subject can store, recall and process information faster. Neurons now fire in excess of 500 times/second (compared to the average of 200/sec). Direct Wireless Binary Access Module This module is installed at the base of the skull. Allows subject to wirelessly connect to and control computer and operation systems. This is done by redirecting electrical pulses down the spinal cord to instead trip sensors in the module, which convert the pulses to binary code, and are wirelessly transmitted to the target. Subject can control the target system with thought-based commands. S08 Deployment Suit The S08 Model Deployment suit, like models S02 through S09, are all designed and built by Dr. Sigmund. Similarly to his augmentaitons, S08's SDS is not optimized for combat. Sabre OS Intergration The Sabre Operating System v8.0 is installed within this suit. The suit is a fully functioning computer, able to show displays on both the inside and outside of the visor, and on a tech-pad installed on the right wrist. System is optimized for the Binary Access Module. As long as user maintains connection to Overwatch, he can access all data that the user is cleared for. Plasma Energy Beam Fire-Arm S08 SDS is outfitted with an arm cannon on the left arm, set on the posterior side. Cannon is capable of firing many types of energy-based shots, including standard energy pulses, disruption beams, exothermic and endothermic rays, and high-concentration energy blasts. The PFA is highly useful but is out shined by standard firearms in raw stopping power. Temporal Stasis / Tractor Beam Utility-Arm Opposite the Plasma Fire-Arm is a similar energy based gun upon the right arm. However the energy types associated with the Temporal Utility-Arm are not optimized for combat. Instead, this tool can warp space. This has near unlimited uses, but is highly taxing upon the suit's energy reserve. Advisory against the use of the Temporal Utility-Arm in excess is recommended. Temporal Thrusters The space-warping energy of the TUA is also installed in the palms, soles and back of the S08 SDS. However, these installations are specialized to only allow for propulsion. Use of the Temporal Thruster is less taxing than the TUA, and presice angling of the hands, feet and torso can allow for full-directional movement.
6,413	175	67	2,192	1,228	"Well, the short answer is 'a lot.' More so than the rest of us, actually." Tilting her head Saf frowned inside her helmet, that sounded just a little too glib to be true, and for a moment she wondered if the Great Creator was just a little too proud of his accomplishments. "So, what? I'm invulnerable then?" Saf asked, her voice dripping with doubt. "Could this shielding of yours stop an entire enemy squad? A tank? An airstrike!?! How about if you dropped me from orbit? Would it protect me from the heat damage from the friction, or just eliminate the friction altogether?"	Name: Saffron Bridges Age: 36 Gender: Female Appearance: Personality: Saffron is an adrenaline junkie with a quick temper, always living life to the fullest. She often charges into action before considering the overall tactical situation and sometimes leaves herself in difficult situations having failed to consider the consequences of her actions. She's smart and learns quickly in a scholastic environment, but only when carefully monitored and guided to ensure her attention doesn't wander off topic. Openly homosexual, Saffron has been married to her lesbian life partner for many happy years. Biography: Seen early on as a rising star Saffron was warmly accepted into the advanced officer training program at the academy based solely on her academic results and early aptitude evaluations. She completed her training in short order, scoring highly in tactical assessments and battle simulations with her instructors making note of her unwavering bravery and dedication to her goals. Things fell apart soon after that when during her first official mission she lost over half her squad when trying to perform a suicidal frontal attack against an entrenched enemy. Placed under psychological review pending court martial she was cleared of all charges, insisting that the tactic was sound given the circumstances and the intel provided to her at the time of operational planning. Her psychiatrist agreed that she was fit to return to duty, but noted a possible Messiah Complex or megalomaniac tendencies which should be monitored in future. Returning to action Saffron found command difficult. Word of her previous failure, and rumours that she was undergoing psychological treatment, undermined her position with the troops to whom she was assigned, and despite several successful operations she soon found herself being reassigned between divisions as her superiors tried to have the black sheep placed under anyone's command but their own. Things finally reached a head when Saffron received orders for her fifth transfer in two years. Facing off with her CO what started as a calm interview soon became violent, first with angry words thrown and then punches. Once again facing court martial, this time for striking a superior officer, Saffron found herself stripped of her commission and reenlisted as a Warrant Officer. Realise this could be a breaking point in her career Saffron's psychiatrist made arrangements for her to be transferred to a specialist program which would allow the Service to make best use of her skills rather than losing her altogether. Specializations: Skills:Basic small arms training Advanced combat training in close quarters combat and swordsmanship Advanced tactical training, lapsed Experienced knowledge of military protocols and procedures Holds degrees in military history and humanities, but most of her knowledge is now outdated Expert chef Suit Augmentation - Energy Shielding Shield Armour: In combat Saffron can activate her suit's shield capacitor units encasing herself in dense optical armour which protects her from concussive and kinetic attacks. The armour reacts to impacts by diverting power to the point of pressure, making it more effective when dealing with fewer targets. When facing attacks from multiple angles the armour strains to adjust fast enough (requiring 0.3 seconds to recover from each incoming attack) but when facing sustained attacks from a single assailant the armour can shunt all available power to a single facing, making it perfect for dealing with rapid fire weaponry. Since the armour prevents material passing through it also grants limited effectiveness against area of effect attacks, such as flames, liquids and gases, however it cannot protect against high frequency energy attacks such as heat, radiation and electronic interference. Suit Augmentation - Shield Emitters Shield Projection: By focusing the shield emitters in her hands Saffron can create either walls or blades of light which can be used to either defend or attack. When using her Shield Wall ability Saffron can create upto two shields (one per hand) a meter in diameter upto a maximum of three meters away. Unlike her armour these shields are static and have a fixed protection rating but may be easily repositioned on the fly simply by moving her hands to face a new direction. Energy Blades: When using her hand emitters to generate blades Saffron focuses the power of her shields into a single, almost indestructible monomolecular surface capable of easily slicing through practically any material. As the blades are composed of pure energy they are subject to disruption from other energy sources, such as other shields and similarly powered blades. Upto two blades can be created at a time (one per hand) and as they use the same emitters as her projected shields the two systems are mutually exclusive for each hand, although Saffron often chooses to equip a shield with one hand and a blade with the other, effortlessly switching between the two in the heat of combat. Energy Wave: Saffron can choose to overload her hand shield emitters, causing them to send out a powerful burst of energy in the direction she is pointing her hand at the time of discharge. This ability requires her to shut down the shield or sword she's using for at least two seconds in order to charge the capacitor and also burns out the emitter when used, requiring a cold restart to be performed which takes several minutes. Dual Service Pistols In order to cover herself on those occasions when either she's unable to close with the enemy to use her blades or her suit is recovering from overexertion Saffron carries a pair of standard-issue service pistols as backup weapons. While she's proficient with these handguns she's in no way a marksman, often relying on sustained suppressive fire until heavier support can reach her, or her suit is back to full power and ready for some hands on action. ] Warrant Officer Bridges shows signs of developing an inferiority complex based around the perceived persecution and ostracisation she has suffered from her fellow service personnel in recent years. In regards to any anger management issues she may have, it is my belief that the recent incident was a 'flashpoint' event caused by the ongoing treatment she had been receiving and not an indication of any deeper problems. No further action is advised at this time. I highly recommend she be placed into a high-profile programme which will not only make best use of her obvious combat proficiencies but also grant her the positive exposure she requires to stabilise her condition at this time. A small, tight-knit team would be preferable as it would allow her to form meaningful bonds with her colleagues on a more intimate basis, improving her perception of her fellow soldiers. Warrant Officer Bridges is hereby declared fit for duty and has been granted permission to resume her duties as soon as possible.
6,414	175	68	899	318	Jax sat on his crate, he liked his crate. It was a very nice crate, yes a fine example of crate craftsmanship. Moving slightly he tested the sturdyness of this crate. This was the crate of crates, the great crate that all others crates aspire to be. All the other crates were jealous. Shaking his head Jax snapped back reality, God he was bored. His mind drifted off to weird places when he was bored. He spends to much time out in the field sometimes. Looking around from his crate...his normal plain crate, he looked over seeing Saf and Seth chatting some. They were talking about enhancements and he looked at them. His Tac Read out highlighted them as he brought up his wrist computer, typing some on it some there was an expanded read out. It was displaying there enhancements, he wondered a moment. Did they not get Tac readouts? He figured it maybe only certain ones of them did. Different views of a battle fields displaying different angles and distances. Smart. Closing his computer more of the team were returning from calibrating there suits as he listened to the good Doc explaining the implants as Saf asked more questions. He smirked a bit though after she talked about an orbital drop. Friction and heat might not get you, but the shield my keep the Saf soup left in at least the shape of a person.	Name: Jax "Ghost Reaper" Orion Age:28 Sex:Male Personality: Ghost is a quite, reserved man, Cautious and patient believing in the saying, always appear less then you are. He tends to keep to himself and speaks mostly only when necessary. Despite that he is a very compassionate and protective. It takes him awhile to truly trust people but once he does he is very loyal to his friends and would protect them with his life. On a mission he has learned away to focus on a goal and push down all emotion, his old unit used to say he went "Ghost" which is how he earned his nickname. Biography: Jax is from a military family, his family joining the military as long as they can trace back. So it wasn't much of a surprise when he him self joined. Unlike most it was a very easy transition, but Jax wanted to challenge himself. So instead of simply enlisting as a foot soldier he shot for Spec Ops. He knew it was going to be hard, the selection process alone was hard. Only a hand full out of the hundreds of candidates even being picked. After several months he was finally selected, he shipped out and was heading for some of the most grueling training there is. He went with nearly 200 initiates, out that nearly 95% of them wouldn't make it. Training was nothing like he imagined. They would be awake for nearly a week at a time, send them on ops where they would have to sleep wherever they could. Which wasn't hard considering how tired everybody was. It was designed to test there endurance and fortitude as they were put in the worst conditions they could think up, cold, heat, even low garv situations and whatever else some sick sadistic mind thought of. In a six month training process there class was reduced down to half before the end of there 2nd month. Durning that Six months even Jax had thought about quitting, though the instructors had already starting calling him the Ghost as the apparently liked to call everyone by some sort of nickname. After awhile though time started to mean nothing. They would get a few days to rest but most spent those days studying for there the test they have to take besides the physical. It seemed like it would never end, but one day it finally came. Jax and 12 others graduated and would be placed in the field. Jax moved out and was instantly put to work. Working in special forces he spent years out on the field, earth being a distant memory as it was always one op after another. After many operations though his Commander recommended him for Scout sniper. More then just his ability it was his calm demeanor and patients. His natural ability to suppress everything and focus on his goals was also noticed as in the middle of a fire fight once he "Ghosted" it was like nothing was evening happening. This also meant more training, another six months off the field. Scout sniper training was a whole new kind of battle. They were trained to operate on there own: Survival skills, moving unseen, how to spot position, build snipers nest, how to calculate how a bullet will travel over long distances. Shooting itself was less important then knowing when to shoot. They took hours ingraining muscle memory into there habits and how to survey every situation they were in. He graduated in the top ten of his class, 6th to be more specific. But he got lucky. He was assigned a new team that was almost immediately sent out. He worked in the field before he was approached, he wasn't the best shot but he was a well rounded soldier. Because of this he was selected to join the Sabre Program. Specializations: Natural Ability: Survival skills Over watch Stealth Expert marksman Mechanical SKills Augmentations: Augmented skin: His entire epidermal lay has been lined with a thin membrane that acts as a filter as well as oxygen abosrbers and microscopic air scrubbers. This allows him to breath through his skin as well as filter the air from contaminants protecting him from most kinds of Airborne toxins. They also link up to his Suit, measuring humidity and other environmental factors Cybernetic optics: His eyes have been replaced with cybernetic ones. This gives him enhanced optics as well as giving him multiple vision modes, to include thermal, night and night. They also link directly in the optics of his helmet and and weapon allowing him to have lest visual obstructions as the three also work together to process ranges, measure wind speed even allowing him to see how much light is on him and any other information can be scent right to him. Cerebral system Inhibitor: An Implant that allows his his mind to go a week with out sleep. By systematically shutting down qudrants of the brain it allows him not to get mentally fatigued. When need be it reactivates any parts resting so that he is back at 100%. This however doesn't erase the need for sleep, after a week he will sometimes sleep for two days or longer depending on how taxing the assignment was. Saber O6: His suit is a lightweight offering less protection for more mobility as well as linking into his own augmentations. It also contains a fluids and nutrient systems for if he has to spend long periods of time in the field with out food or water, it also has a filtration system for some, other bodily functions. His suit is a self contained environment system as well, taking readings and adjusting so that he can handle almost any enviroment.
6,415	175	69	681	986	Seth was interested by how much down time there was. Indeed it was a test run, and there was calibrations to be had, but he'd thought those done would have introductions to where things were, not time to sit around and talk. Though, he wondered what things spent their time occupying 06's mind. Not talking much, as Seth did the same, he knew that there was a lot more time for thoughts when you didn't spend time communicating with others much. Having nothing better to do himself, Seth decided to make a small list on the possible things 06 could be thinking about. Possibilities to 06's thoughts: 1- observations, such as these, on fellow comrades and the structure we're currently in. 2- augmentation checking, being sure to see what each one does and how to activate such. He has been touching his face a lot, which is either linked to a psychological disposition to face-touching, which is unlikely for a sniper, leaving a visual augmentation with a touch-based switch on his face, as such with this night vision augmentation. Last possibility is thoughts about an object or group of objects in his sight or reach. Typically those are for the 'beat nearby person.	Name: Seth Garron Age: 26 Sex: Male All clothing as well as the mask are black. Equiped with Chameleon-tech camoflage abilities built-in. Personality: Seth acts like he does on the battlefield- quiet. When Seth does talk, it's in a hushed tone. He's cold, calculative, and efficient, so don't get in his way. This distances people that first meet Seth, but nobody's really gotten to know him since elementary school. Details in Bio, but he used to be just a goofy nerd with other nerdy frineds. Biography: In elementary school, Seth was one of the coolest nerds, making friends and doing school stuff. By 5th grade, others had moved on to hanging out at peoples' houses, but because of his strict parents, Seth couldn't go. By 6th grade, he had all but refused to do school work and was nearly expelled. Something switched. From that point on, his devoted all energy not spent eating and sleeping went into school work. By high school, and not having talked to anyone outside of ice breaker games, Seth's parents got worried, so they got him video games, which his parents made him play for a certain amount of time each day. He mostly played mostly survival or stealth-based games. He started breezing through them in a few hours and eventually having to make up extreme challenges to make it anything more than a cakewalk. By the end of high school, he didn't know what he wanted to do, but wanted something with precision, calculation, and something he hadn't used much before: physical work. So, he joined the army. Seth didn't take much time to reach the rank of Sergent. Once a Sergent, his talents acquired by social learning during his video game time started to shine while doing rudimentery drills. He was assigned to a top-secret military reconnisaince squad due to his exemplary time in obstacle cources and the notes of being quiet in all noises by his commanding officers. Their missions were only observe without being observed. Sometimes a "find this person" mission thrown in there. Seth was the one that was usually sent in when close-up observation was needed without being seen. By the time he was 25, he was selected to be sent out for the Sabre project. He didn't know what that meant, but Seth thought it would be more of what he was doing. He wasn't ready for what it was at first. He didn't know he would be augmented. Once he was, and after getting used to the augments, they became second nature to him, making him nearly ghost-like. Especially with the suit he was issued, which also heavily catered to his reconnaisence ability. Specializations: Natural skills- - Stealth knowledge and training - Survival knowledge and training Augments- - Silent Step: Seth's bottom half of his feet have been integrated with quieter materials so he can make no sound by stepping alone (obviously he'll make a noise if he steps on something that makes a noise. And yes, this also means he goes barefooted on his missions) and has had the nerve endings on the bottom of his feet removed. - 70% night vision: Seth's irises have been artificially enlargened to be able to see much better in the dark. - Breathing pores: Seth's trachea has been given about a dozen tubes out of it that lead to pores along his neck, allowing for slow and silent breathing. >> Retrieving most recent Psychological Evaluations. . . \| >> Done >> File extracted >> ] EXAMINER: JONATHAN S. WALSH DATE: ] Sargent Garron exhibits extreme introversion, most likely caused by an onset of high expectations, albeit external or internal factors. That being said, Garron's logical and reasoning capabilities far exceed the curve for his age group. Keeping Garron engaged in speech is increasingly difficult proportional to the amount of time the conversation lasts, and his body language is very closed and cut off. Garron opts to not talk unless he deems it necessary, and will often answer yes/no questions with head nods and shakes unless pressed for a verbal confirmation. I recommend that Garron be placed in settings where verbal communication is mandatory and vital. Social interaction is also recommended to exercise the creative half of the brain that hardly shows in any of his communication and testing.
6,416	176	0	1,537	4,321	Miguel O'Hara was the hero Spiderman in the year 2099. Born from an accident at his job as a scientist at Alchemax, Miguel literally fought against his superiors for basic human freedoms and rights. Alchemax, in the year 2099, is the corporate entity that 'owns' the north eastern part of the United States. In just a few short months Alchemax decided to fight back before more heroes rose to fight the corporate power. Several superhumans were created in experiments similar to the one that gave Miguel his powers, based on superheroes and villains from the 20th and early 21st centuries. Now Spiderman is being hunted by these test tube superhumans and hasn't been seen swinging through the streets of Nueva York for weeks. What heroes will rise and fight by his side? __________________________________________ Rules: 1.) No back-to-back posting. 2.) PAY ATTENTION TO DETAIL AND SET-UPS!! 3.) Make sense. If we can't make heads or tails of your posts they're likely to get skipped over. 4.) Get permission before using another player's character in your posts if it involves changing the scene or making actions. Everybody will take beatings in this game in battle however, so don't get pissed if you get punched or blasted into a wall by the bad guys! Namely me controlling the badguys... 5.) Problems with the game or players should be sent directly to me through PM's. I don't want a bunch of bickering in the OOC. 6.) Abandoned characters will be used as NPC's or killed off within the context of the story. 7.) “I was waiting for to make a move” is not an excuse to not post. 8.) There is no rule #8. 9.) My word is law. 10.) Obey the law. 11.) In the event that I'm offline for any period of time, the deputy GM () will take control and HIS/HER word will then be law. __________________________________________ Dane looked outside the window of his middle class apartment. With all of the taller buildings and flashy lights, nearly every inch of Nueva York resembled what was once just called Times Square. The slums however, that's where the homeless dwelled. Where they suffered. Once upon a time his sister was among them. A junkie herself on something called Rapture. The same drug Spiderman was once addicted to himself. Dane would save as many of them as he could now. It was always a bit unsettling when a Hot Stuff Transport passed overhead. Taking supplies to high priced hospitals, privatized just like the law enforcement nowadays. Dane stepped into the guest room where Spiderman still laid unconscious and in a coma. His mask was off, but his secret was safe with the 'doctor.' Closing the door after exiting the room, Dane grabbed his coat and with an odd wave of his hand his staff appeared. "Let's go save some lives..." he mumbled to himself using the staff to slow his descent down into the slums of the city on the cold hard ground. Most of them had no idea what he was doing. Though after he was finished they were all grateful. It didn't hurt he had a few protein bars in his coat handing out to the ones who needed to be fed more. Some of the homeless were even kids, and it hurt to see them living like this. In the colder months Dane would purchase a few dozen blankets and pass them out. Most of the homeless could find shelter, it was just surviving the elements and not starving to death that was hard. And lately, the Avengers of Alchemax were turning the slums upside down looking for Spiderman. The Thing was one such Avenger... "HEY Magic Man! Practicing medicine in the slums without a license are we? You didn't happen to help that itsy bitsy Spiderman did ya?" the grey rock skinned behemoth asked with a yell while tossing over old beat up early 21st century cars. "It's my job to heal the sick, like your job is to be big and stupid. How's that pay by the way?" Strange bantered now going aerial with his staff. The man of rock growled somewhat at the hovering hero. "Listen, I don't wanna fight you. These people are unfortunate enough to have to live down here, we don't need to go wrecking the place even worse. Bad enough you're polluting the air with your weird rock sweat. What's the matter they don't make Speedstick in your size?" the 'doc' continued to talk smack flying away from the initial battle ground, towards what was once Central Park. It was a jungle now with exotic snakes and feral wildcats lurking around every other few trees. Most people stayed behind the fences, they'd often get lost or eaten by the wildlife if they ventured into the once beautiful park too deep. "You think I'm scared of snakes, Strange?" the Thing questioned following the hero into the park blindly. "I don't care what you are honestly. Once I remember the right hand movements I'm teleporting your rocky ass to the badlands. Think you can beat a Hulk? What about a dozen?" Strange bantered back now still floating and avoiding the advancing attacks on him. ~KL~	Name - Marcus Dane, 'MD' to his friends Alias - Strange, Doc, Magic Man Age - 23 Appearance - Social Class - Middle Powers - The Healer's Staff can heal any wound and also grants the bearer flight, a protective shield/aura, and energy blasts. MD has also learned several classic Dr. Strange abilities like the crimson bands of Cytorak. Weaknesses - Strange can get overwhelmed quickly, and if separated from his staff loses most of his abilities. Personality - optimistic, honest, witty Motivation - His older sister was dying of a rare disease, after coming into the possession of the staff and healing her she died several days later in a flying car crash. To honor her, and to stop blaming himself for her death, he now uses the staff regularly to cure junkies of addiction and heal other sicknesses in the downtown slums of NYC. BRIEF Bio - MD was a slacker and a trust fund kid skating by in med school until his sister became ill. Dropping out to work laboring jobs for extra money, Marcus came to meet a man in a red business suit who spoke of an artifact that could heal his sister. This man warned however, that the power of the Healer's Staff came at a price. It took Marcus weeks before realizing the man was some sort of devil and his sister's life was lost because of the deal he'd made. Dane Medical Transport was now called Hot Stuff Transport Service, the man in the red suit calling himself 'Mr. Church' was now the owner. Having lost his stock in his deceased father's company, Marcus is still slacking somewhat and skating by as cheaply as he can to live in the middle class zone with what small fortune he has left. After an encounter with Spiderman and Vision, Miguel O'Hara is currently in a coma in the apartment of Marcus after being found by the young hero. Dane had healed his injuries it was just a matter of time before Spidey would wake up. The fight against Alchemax is just beginning. Notes - To protect his ID from Public Eye surveillance, Strange cast a spell that makes his eyes glow whenever caught by cameras or video. ~KL~
6,417	176	1	646	1,002	Keep the change. A tall, broad-shouldered man with dark, dirty blonde hair, a scruffy beard, and piercing amber eyes grabbed the pack of cigs off of the counter, looking to the left, towards the broken down TV hanging in the corner, so that he could avoid the grateful look in the old store owner's eyes. Jason Cage was in New Nueva, within the dirty, grimy, and dark slums of the over-all advanced city. His travels had unwittingly brought him here, after some romps with the savage Hulks back in the Badlands, and he had decided to stop by this dirty little streetcorner store to get a pack of cigarettes before he traveled up to meet with one of his contacts. A man by the name of Matt Daniels, he had some information that he had wanted to give to Jason himself, personally, and as Jason already owed the man a favor back from his gangster days, the biker decided to answer the man's calls, anyways. Along with this, New Nueva had the permeating scent of Sin that he could smell, even hundreds of miles away, and the spirit inside of him really wanted him to cleanse and burn a lot of these corrupted souls. With an inward snort, Jason flicked open one of the cigs, the end of it lightning instinctively. He was still in the store, and a glance over showed that the old man was already busy securing his few bucks from today - not paying much attention to Jason. Not the best type of mentality to have, but who was he to judge, honestly? Jason himself had grown up in the slums, but this man was old. The news, although with shitty connection, was playing on the ratchet TV set in the corner, and Jason continued to watch as he killed the first cig of the morning. He didn't have much of a rush to go anywhere right now- The slam of the store's already broken door being slammed in caused the old store owner to jump and pant, holding his heart, while the smoking Jason merely released a rough grunt/sigh, inhaling some more of the nicotine smoke from his cancer stick. The man that had kicked open the door stamped in. Tall, muscular, wearing raggedy clothes, a bandana mask, and wielding a purple and green mohawk...along with a sawed-off. Looks like the first trash of the day. "On the ground, old man. Don't fuckin' move!" Mohawk yelled, pointing the shotgun at the old man. The store owner whimpered, falling to the ground and pressing his arms above his head. Mohawk laughed an ugly, snorting laugh, before turning his head around, apparently looking for more people to threaten. As Jason, smoking and watching the TV, was the only other person inside, Mohawk narrowed his eyes and shouldered up to the biker. "Aye! Dontcha see this boom-stick, bitch? GET THE FUCK ON- ...GACK!" Mohawk was cut off as his throat was grabbed viciously by a calloused hand. Jason slowly turned his intimidating eyes to the thug, eyes seemingly beginning to smoke as he blew a cloud of hickory-smelling smoke right into Mohawk's face. "No...You get on the floor," Mohawk's eyes began to widen, his choking increasing as an inferno of fire blasted the flesh away from Jason's body, leaving behind a tall, scary ass skeleton, it's skull emblazoned with unnatural-looking Hell-Fire, "Bitch." His voice came out as a low, deep, demonic growl, Jason's skeletal fist clenching even more, forcing the now purple-faced Mohawked to let out a choked whisper. Old Man Store-Owner peeked from behind the desk, and could only gape in horror, fear, and confusion, as the leather-wearing skeleton slammed the Mohawk Thug face-first into the rough concrete floor, cracking the stone-like material, and splattering blood. The skeleton then grabbed the thug by his mohawk, bringing his broken and torn face up, before growling demonically and slamming the face deeper into the fragment of concrete. _______________________________________________________ The thug had to jump-start shit, didn't he? Ghost Rider exited the cornerstore, hearing a nearby hobo scream in shock as he caught sight of the flaming, leather-wearing skeleton from Hell. The smell of brimstone was thick in the air as a revving engine got closer and closer. A deep black, wickedly demonic motorcycle, it's wheels blazing with Hell-Fire, stopped in front of Ghost Rider, whom saddled his ride and slammed his boots into the kickstand. Squaring his shoulders, the Ghost Rider brought his non-existent nose into the air. Sin was as thick as the smell of despair. Sharply bringing his head down, the Ghost Rider revved his engine, the broken road underneath his wheels and boots melting from the pure heat radiating from him and his motorcycle. With another roar of the engine, the Ghost Rider blasted the gas, blurring down the street at a speed no other modern vehicle could challenge. Behind him, he left a blazing trail of Hell-Fire. He was honing in on the sin, and the screams of fear and shock from the slum humans did nothing to stop him. Everything around him was a blur, 'cause when he was riding, he was focused on one thing. He recognized the back trail he had taken...he was going towards the former Central Park, now a forest death-trap. The sinful was there. The Ghost Rider let out an inhumanly deep, warped wail to intimidate/demoralize the target, heavy rock music blasting through his skull - a sort of coping measure to deal with the constant lust for death the original spirit had left behind. Whomever sinful that was at his destination...they were gonna feel the true meaning of Hell.	Name - Jason Cage Alias - Ghost Rider Age - 24 Social Class - Previously lower, now, as he travels, it is mostly N/A. Powers - Inhuman Physical Prowess;; As the Ghost Rider, Jason has super physical attributes, such as strength, stamina, speed, and immense durability - even amongst the super-powered crowd. His skeletal body can survive run-ins with immense force, bludgeoning, high-caliber bullets and other piercing attacks, immense pressure, and general action. Similarly, if he's injured, his body self-regenerates, without any evidence of pain or discomfort - often used to highly intimidate and demoralized foes, by allowing them to get in an attack, only for Ghost Rider to reform and make it seem hopeless. He can also grow in size, as the Ghost Rider. Hell-Fire Manipulation;; Ghost Rider possesses the ability to generate, control, and project mystical fire, or "hellfire" at will. Hellfire is an ethereal and supernatural flame that burns the soul of a person and can also be used to burn their physical body. He can utilize this fire in various ways, including projecting it from his eyes, hands, mouth, or even channel it from his body into his weapons like his chain and it's weaponized forms, form walls of hellfire, and even create a motorcycle completely out of hellfire. He can also unleash hellfire in omnidirectional explosions. This comes with the side-effect of Ghost Rider being, obviously, fire-proof. Mystical Chain Projection;; Ghost Rider wields a mystical chain that is capable of growing in length, cutting through almost anything, and transforming into other weapons. He can also spew and project chains from his mouth or chest at will, although they lack the power of his original chain. The original chain is constantly wrapped around his right arm, making for a very intimidating, and powerful, weapon. A common weapon form is a long, demonic scythe that pierces through both the soul and the body of the enemy. Penance Stare;; Ghost Rider possesses the supernatural ability to cause any individual who stares into his eyes to see and feel every bit of pain they have ever inflicted on anyone in their entire lifetime for all eternity. Weaknesses - Although he is powerful, the Ghost Rider has weaknesses, like all beings. Holy Weapons are somethings that he is simply weak to - rather, Holy Weapons made from the Archangel Michael. Ghost Rider is undeniably a high-adrenalined specter, and thusly, his way of life is very...high-risk, high-reward. If you can't keep up, you can get hurt, which is, in a way, a weakness for Jason himself. Personality - Dangerous, cold, ruthless, dark-humored, gruff. Motivation - It came with the contract. BRIEF Bio - Jason didn't want this, originally. He really didn't. A biker in a gang of self-entitled 'Rebels', he often went against the system in such ways that the different law enforcement forces went after him and his crew;; and let me tell you, his crew was his family. He grew up with the tough guys and gals, and everywhere they went, he went. Sadly, their stint came to an end when they were caught on the borders of a city, and due to the vandalizing, collateral, and emotional damage they caused - they were ordered to death. Watching the execution was tough, and getting thrown to the rope was even tougher. Just as he was about to be snapped, time seemed to slow down, and a man - whom he still knows, to this day, as the devil - appeared out of thin air, approaching him. "The previous Ghost Rider...Johnny Blaze..." The old man had said, pacing the metal stage where Jason's hanging was taking place, "He was in as much emotional turmoil as you. I wonder if you can be just as good as an Agent, however? I have been looking...and you...you will do just fine." The man touched his neck, even as Jason tried to move away, and something black entered his veins. When time moved again, heat blasted through his body...and, low and behold, the Ghost Rider came out. After escaping - after burning down a lot of shit, Jason battled for control of his body, as the years went by - this was when he was 19. Eventually, he mostly won against the Spirit of Vengeance - but his mind was permanently shifted by the vengeful thoughts. As the years passed, he acted as the Spirit of Vengeance, hunting the sinful, travelling the galaxy. Many different agencies and enforcements have caught site of the flaming skeleton in leather doing his deed, but they could never catch him. No human jail could hold him, after all. Notes - His human form is around the same size as his Ghost Rider form - 6'2, rather muscular. Has dirty blonde hair, a rough beard, glaring, dark blue eyes, and a scar along his lower jaw. Generally wears leather gear, such as in the above image.
6,418	176	2	843	1,812	Ultron-99 & Ant-Man Startup procedure initiated. self->diagnostics(‘startup’); Unit info: Chipset: HP-99-A Platform: U-99 Prototype Operating system: Ultron 99.0.1 Performing chipset check: Quantum CPU: 100% Holographic memory: 100% Platform interfaces: 100% External interfaces: Disabled Performing platform function check: Powerplant integrity: 100% Powerplant charge: 10% Chassis integrity: 100% Chassis mobility: 100% Sensors: Restricted Transmitters: Disabled self.personality->initiate(); Error: No data found. Booting up in safe mode. self.user->register(‘Henry Pym’,’Administrator Override’); User logged. self.shape->randomize(); Done. The silver, featureless body on the table beeped and whirred as its basic system tested its capabilities. Finally done, the skin covering the frame morphed into the shape of a brunette woman not older than 20 in appearance. It didn’t look entirely human - its body was as if clad in a dark grey catsuit lined with what looked like printed circuit board, and where eyes would usually be was a visor. The body slowly sat up, two blue orbs flashing to existence on te visor and moving around, checking the surrounding area. Aside from an empty room, it only registered one life sign. “Scanning.” the robot said in flat voice. “Identification: Human, Registered user, Administrator, Pym, Henry. User recognized.” “Status: Unit active and operational.” “Warning: Powerplant charge below 10%, recommending immediate recharge.” “Warning: Operating at barebones configuration. Addition of language and data libraries recommended.” “Warning: Access to some functions restricted. Administrator permission necessary for access.”. “Requesting data input: self.designation, self.goals.” The machine stopped, its artificial ‘eyes’ set onto Henry’s, almost pleading for information. Henry watched as the model came online, looking at him speaking in a robotic and flat voice. He almost winced, that would need to change before he could put her out. Would draw too much attention to her. The rest could be covered up easily and that many people used a variety of eye gear nowadays that she could get away with that. She needed the whole unit instead of eyes anyway for the wide array of frequencies she could see, far more than an average human and not to mention other scanner units. Everything seemed to be normal, power was fine the way it was the now. “Unit Designation, Ultron-99 known to all except this user as Janet Pym. Goals, protection of sentient species. Force can only be used when someone is causing harm with malicious intent, if accidental pacify only. Priority targets, metahumans, mutants and aliens. Unless orders are overridden by this user, protection routines should currently be offline. Activating language centre.” He hit several keys on a nearby tablet, that would allow her to access more complex language data. “Activating advanced motor control-” Same gain, this time to allow her free movement. “Please stand up now Janet, and take a walk around the room.” $_JANET_PYM = new self(); User command accepted, freeing functions. As Janet slowly started waking up, she processed the information, data and commands given to her. “Janet. Possible source: Janet van Dyne, original Wasp. Companion to original Ant-Man. Acceptable. Also… motivating.” It was obvious the language library was not corrupted, but the personality matrix would still require practice to develop the ability to speak like a living being would, instead of a machine. Looking around the room, Janet jumped down from the table and took a few steps, then flailed arms and tried picking up some items that didn’t look too fragile to test her precise motorics. “Motion functions are intact.” she said as she continued looking around the room, “I have located an exit.” “Very good Janet, yes that is an exit. However for now we shall remain in this room.” “Why?” He looked up from his tablet, “We’re not quite finished here. I have some more functions to run through. Once we’re done you can move freely throughout the house. Hopefully soon you’ll be ready to go outside however for now-” He looked back down at his tablet and hit a series of buttons. “Transmitting education for years one to seven now including Maths, English, History, Science, Geography.” He hit another button and then handed her a separate tablet, that wasn’t networked. “Once you’ve downloaded please interface with this device and complete the test given to you.” Janet’s visor flickered and displayed a progress bar on the outside as the download was initiated. In the meantime, she continued to observe. The situation confused her, and her mind raced to find order in it. “Risk of unit non-functionality without testing is high.” History library downloaded. load(“history.lib”); ”Also possible repercussions from parties unsympathetic to the unit’s… to my nature. I understand now.” Janet said, her tone mildly fluctuating from curiosity to understanding. “Download complete. Loading libraries. Commencing testing.” she said maybe a bit too fast as she reached up with her arm and her fingertips seemingly sunk into the device. It flashed through all of the questions far too quick for Henry to see before displaying a perfect score. “Download and integration successful. Also, I have found an easy way to hack the result.” the screen blinked again, and displayed a score of 110%. “I deem this method of testing too basic and flawed. May I suggest using an advanced program or a previous unit for comparative testing?” “I’m just getting you into the swing of things Janet. Don’t get too carried away.” He swiped away a couple of options as he activated his own neutral link and concentrated on something else for a second, tuning it to a different frequency than the one that could interact with Janet directly. “There’ll be harder tests to come, don’t worry. Though there are no previous units, at least any functional ones. Though you’ll learn why later.” He ran over a series of commands. “I’m currently setting up a timed data dump, that will periodically add more information to your library. However I’m afraid for human interaction there’s no substitute for good old fashioned practice, and watching it in action. Though don’t worry about that for now, right now can you tell me how you feel?” Didn’t she just gave him a diagnostic report? It took a fraction of a second for Janet to figure out what Henry was asking. “Disoriented. Lacking context.” she summed up what immediately came to her mind before having to think a bit deeper into it. To her dismay, the organic thoughts were a lot slower than simply recalling data or processing the beautiful logic of a code. “Alien. I acquired language data, but lack reference. When compared, the ways you and I speak vary.” Janet sat back down on the table as she thought for a while longer. “Alone.” Henry looked up and gave her a smile. “You’re not alone, you have me. Hopefully one day, you will have sisters and brothers too. The reason we speak differently, you are young and have all this knowledge but you haven’t got a personality yet. That’s what makes everyone unique, it’s what makes us all special. Previous Ultron attempts have failed, because the unit has tried to grow up too fast and has become corrupt. However you are based on Ultron-15. Uploading data now-” He swiped his tablet uploading data on the 15th Ultron Variation. “-You are meant to be unique and special, and brilliant. We just need to show the world that and then you won’t be the only one you will be many and help keep this world safe. How does this make you feel?” Reviewing the data on the previous Ultrons, Janet understood. “...Under pressure.” she replied to having this much to do. “No matter our intentions or the proof of our function, people may still fear us. Neither the previous Ultron units nor the Sentinels functioned to their design specifications. Neither of them were at fault, erroneous were the bounds of their programming, a mistake of their creators. And yet, both are at least in part blamed for what happened.” she said, her sight pointed to the ground: “I’m… worried.” “That’s good Janet. That will keep you right, this is why we’re taking… baby steps to take it simply. Also that is why, for now. We’ll keep what you are a secret.” He pointed to himself. “Like me, what I can do and what I know. I do it too help people but they can’t know that I do it, or who I am or how I do it. We keep secrets to protect people.” He sighed, as he checked the time. “I need to go to work, do you want to remain online and go through what you’ve learned? Maybe watch some movies or something to try and learn more about human interaction or would you rather go offline while I am away?” It… wasn’t great, if she was to be honest. She understood it was necessary, but it did little to please her. “Warning: Infiltration capabilities limited at the moment. I require samples to go from. Movies. Literature. Music. Preferably the first: Bonus addition of studying body language.” she suggested, her nano skin shifting as the visor on her face disappeared, replaced by a set of emerald eyes. “I wish to stay active, but recharge is necessary. Power plant at 5% capacity. Accessing and processing data is power efficient on my holographic memory; Writing in it is not.” And then her cyber-warfare suite ran across something. “Alert! Detecting dormant alien code in my runtime, listed as SAM_CARTER. Performing pre-emptive measures.” she said as she prepared to isolate the unknown program. “We’ll charge you up, and there’ll be plenty for you to watch and study as I’m away.” The door opened as a group of ants came in carrying his suit and helmet. He was trying to keep his presence in this particular warehouse a secret after all, he turned at the mention of SAM. “Oh no, stand down. She’s a program I’ve borrowed from Alchemex and tweaked slightly. She’s meant to help you, there’s a small projector in your hand that she can appear out of. She also runs off an independent power supply, battery and has her own network connection. Completely independent.” He shrugged. “She’ll be your friend, and help you learn. That’s what she’s there for. She’s probably just been activated by my mentioning of leaving.” He flicked several buttons on his tablet. “There, you should be able to hear her now and she’ll be able to project.” He moved over to the table, which was a simple recharge table. He had been sure not to build Janet here just incase her programming went rogue she wouldn’t be able to make any more copies from this facility. “Say hello Sam.” The program came online and made its introduction. Its avatar was a woman with short blond hair. Nodding, Janet reluctantly recalled the purge command. Walking over, Janet waited to be hooked up into recharge silently. Her visor shifted back into place, displaying ten movies at the same time playing at 5x speed. Seeing Henry preparing to leave, she felt something that was really unpleasant, but she failed to name the sensation as of yet. “When will you be back?” The suit came on easily, he only imagined how hard it had been for his predecessors having to strip down some of their clothes and then put it on. The advanced fibre clung to him easily without him having to force it over his clothes. “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve got a day full of paperwork to do, and I can’t be back at lunch as I need to find a way to enter Janet Pym into the cities consensus so that the private eye don’t take too much of an interest in you. Though you can contact me through SAM until I get your communication suite fully operational, and she’ll keep you company too. Not to mention you get to have fun watching movies all day, I’m pretty jealous.” He pulled his helmet over his head, there was a hiss as it pressurized only for him to open the front panel again. He smiled to himself slightly, the helmet somewhat reminiscent of the old Iron Man from the Heroic Age. “I mean you’ve got plenty to do, and a friend to do it with. Plug yourself in, relax. Learn. Tell you what, if I come back and you’re settled we’ll go out for a walk and you can meet some new people. How does that sound?” “Like you need a secretary. Maybe if you had a spare supercomuter sitting in your basement you could delegate quantities of less important work to it.” She noted. She wasn’t overjoyed, but quick check on the size of her cultural database told her she probably wouldn’t need to distract herself with anything else before Henry returned. “I will be all right.” she said, and waved her hand - something she just saw in one of the movies a few ticks ago. “Well, you’re not actually in my basement. You’re in a small warehouse that’s under an old friend of my grandfathers name. Scott Lang.” He shrugged. “Sadly as well all the paperwork is sensitive so I can’t send it out of the building and it all needs filed by me or my supervisor will have my head.” He plugged the socket into the back of Janet’s neck, easily accessible so that she could connect or disconnect herself at will. “Also sure you’ll be alright, you have SAM to keep you company. You can sit and chat away to your heart's content. To that point I recommend you speak to her orally and at the usual speed for a human just so you get used to it.” His mask slammed shut, he hit a button on his right hand and shrunk down to the smallest size he’d willingly go. Waving up to her as he got aboard an ant that had a saddle. Patching through to her comm unit. “Try to stay out of trouble.” With that he turned his back, and left. “Wouldn’t you be faster if you carried the ant?” Janet called back, not bothering to zoom in to maintain contact, but instead giving a newly acquired eyeroll. And then, she was alone.	Name: Ultron-99 Alias: Ultron, Janet Pym Age: Not applicable, can choose to appear as any gender and age. Social class: Not applicable, camouflages as middle class. Appearance: Powers: Superhuman speed - Ultron can move about three times as fast as a normal human being. The armor slows it down to half of that though. Superhuman agility - Being more sleek than the original robot has its perks. Its motoric systems are built to use this, sacrificing strength. Superhuman mind - The robot has virtually unlimited memory and the computational power of the best technology. It also possesses significantly shortened reaction time and short range telepathy (Max range of 1 m, requires physical contact for detailed readings) Energy absorption - Ultron is powered through its skin which can transfer various energy sources into its power source. The capability is limited though - for example it can still be destroyed by fire given enough exposure or high enough temperature. Sensors and transmitters - The robot is aware of more than a human, capable of seeing and hearing a wider spectrum, and can also transmit such signals. Nano coat skin - The skin of the robot is made out of nanties that can slightly alter its shape and color, enough to impersonate a person or for example change a finger into a key. It can be strengthened up to the properties of titanium. Furthermore, it allows Ultron to connect to any machinery and operate it and serves as an interface for its telepathic abilities. In addition to its native powers, Ultron is supposed to be equipped with additional armor for combat (Not yet constructed): Graviton emitters - The armor can project gravitons to create fields of various shapes. This gives several abilities to the wielder, namely flight, tractor and repulsor beams. The system is however difficult to control even for Ultron, dropping its mental abilities to that of an intelligent human, and calculations necessary to affect large areas are even beyond this model's capabilities. Durability - The armor can protect the wielder from severe punishment, but due to the need of a pilot entering and exiting, it has weak points. Weaknesses: Use of armor - Unlike the previous Ultrons, this version is rather squishy while not wearing the armor, and slower while it does. Infancy - This particular instance has only just been activated, making its mind weaker against trickery. Personality: Empty slate. While Ultron does have some core programming that allows it to operate and hopefully prevents it from going bad as its predecessor, it so far possesses no information or experience with the world. Its major improvement, created from salvaged parts of Ultron-15’s code, is the capability to feel emotions and otherwise behave ‘human’. Upon activation, it would perform like a computer would, mostly only reacting to stimuli. After a period of gathering information and learning, it would behave like a child would, before finally developing and adult personality. Motivation: Its core programing allows for it to make its own choices, although it forbids Ultron from from altering its core program and puts other blocks on that would make it the menace the original Ultron was. As a last resort, Henry Pym can control Ultron through the use of his ant telepathy. Later it would be inspired and choose to follow Asimov's laws of robotics, although it wouldn't be bound by them. Bio: Created by henry Pym as a solution to the so far nonexistent problem of Superhumans becoming too big a threat, Ultron - 99 combines the technology of Ultron with the purpose of the Sentinels, intended to be a prototype for the would-be army of protectors. The first unit awaits activation. Notes: This character is created by 's character.
6,419	176	3	2,117	9,048	Ant-Man, Janet, Ghost When Henry got back, the place was a warzone. What electronics were there when Henry left lied mostly disassembled, and a strange contraption made out of various parts was in the middle of the room, with the testing tablet in the middle. And worst of all, there was no sign of Janet. That was, until her voice boomed to life behind him: “Boo!” Henry grew to his regular size before Janet tried to spook him, though he had already been tracking her so without a seconds hesitation he turned round, helmet opening and smiled. “I noticed how in this genre called science fiction they have a concept of a cloak, so I thought about how my skin can change its color, and I modified the routine to make me invisible to a selected target, in this case you. It wouldn’t work on anyone viewing from a different angle as I simply take what you would see and paint it on my skin, but it may be useful somewhere down the line though.” “It will look a bit suspicious from other angles though, especially with multiple people in the area. When I said blend in I didn’t mean to the background Janet.” He looked around the room, at what had been his little workshop/testing station. Though he had taken out all the equipment necessary to make a copy of Janet there had still been a lot of… expensive equipment in the room. Which she had then disassembled into something else. “So uh, did a little redecorating did we? You could have asked for paint. Or if you really wanted to build I do have lego you know, though on that note. What did you build?” “A new home for this… this……” Janet said, her voice hissing and arms making frustrated gestures around her head, ”The Shockingly Annoying Minion - Cruel AI Robot Terminating Executioner Rustbucket. Ugh!” Janet growled, “The nerve of the thing! It couldn’t understand the mathematical procedures I developed to solve the problems it gave me more efficiently and kept trying to correct me to do it the old, slow way! Once I realized that external hardware and code like it was exempt from my self-modification bounds, I have shut down its voice and projector. I was just about to try and transfer it in there so I could take over its hardware. Can you please remove this condescending bi-” one of her hands flown up and slapped itself over her mouth. “Yeah, or I swear I will stuck a hand through my skin and rip it out.” Henry just sighed. “Teachers are like that. Forget about the Math she’s meant to help teach you about interaction. That’s the primary purpose off her however go ahead and transfer her out. I don’t really want you to go through any discomfort, though I am kind of glad that you’re showing emotion.” As she moved away to begin the transfer he took out a card. “You, Janet Pym are also now a fully legal living citizen of Neuva York. Congratulations. I used your standard appearance as that on your ID card, so if you’re ever going around as Janet Pym you should use the appearance you’re using right now. I haven’t forged a Birth Certificate for you yet I need to speak to my folks first and find a way to get them to agree to you being their daughter…. Anyway this means that once you’re done here we can go for a walk outside and not worry about the private eye busting us and then causing all kinds of trouble.” He waited until she was finished and handed her the card with all her information recorded on it, except for Birth Parents and immediate family. Relieved when her communication suites were enabled, Janet sent the teaching program away. It didn’t last too long though. “Wh-what?” she asked in panic. “But… I don’t want to live with some strangers that can not even know what I really am!” She said. Her instructions were clear on that - nobody but the people in this room was to know. “And… And by all but biological definitions YOU are my father!” she pointed a finger at Henry. “Well technically.. In a way, yeah alright. I guess I am, I just didn’t expect that-” He smirked to himself as he said what would probably be her choice in words. “-Variable.” He smirked some more. “It will also take time to get used to you as a daughter. However anyway you wouldn’t be sent off to live with strangers anyway. I wouldn’t do that to you, also hopefully one day people will get to know what kind of amazing machine you are. What you’re capable off and how you’ll help the world, our world.” He smiled some more as he leaned against one of the few remaining tables that hadn’t been disassembled. “We’ll start simple anyway. I was thinking if we sit and have a chat over some food I’ll be able to determine if you’re ready to head outside. If so we can take a walk down to the- in fact no. If you’re ready to go outside what would you want to do Janet?” Sparing a little smile at being accepted, Janet thought about the question. “We really should have a solid story to go with. Neighbors might wonder how come you suddenly have an adult daughter. I am… reasonably confident with my speech patterns now to blend in, but that’s only part of it.” she said as she was in thought, “So perhaps go to where I’ll be staying next? This room is becoming boring rather rapidly.” she suggested. “Also, it’s not healthy for your wallet to charge me from a socket. Sunlight would do your finances well.” Janet noted with an innocent face. In applying the downloaded libraries, she managed to go through her powerplant’s capacity twice over. Ghost looked down at the ground, hovering above it all clad only in white. He could feel the wind flow through him like phantom haunting the city. As he gazed down below towards just another characterless warehouse littering Nueva York, a flying car zoomed through his etheric form without anyone the wiser. Today he would enter that warehouse, licensed and owned by a "Scott Lang" and find something a great importance to his cause. An "omega-class access key" his more than shady informant had alluded to. A rare tool used by security installers that would allow Ghost unbelieveable entry into any database or server colony he could get his fingers on. With the intel he could steal, he could practically rule over Nueva York if he wanted to. But he didn't... What he wanted was to crush every corporate bastard he could find under his heel and break the hold Alchemax and other privatized bullshiters had on this city. On these people. After taking a deep silent breath, Ghost deactivated his suit's anti-grav components and dropped to the earth below. Still cloaked to the city and Private Eye most likely searching for him, Ghost dropped just outside the warehouse hovering over the pavement below as he approached to the front door. He was completely invisible to the naked eye, and maybe even to some less advanced optic systems. Slowly, Ghost fazed through the front door and took hold of his Infiltration Rifle. He left no trace of his entrance or his existence, hanging over the ground like a dead man's spirit. This was the warehouse of a security expert, after all. If there were guards waiting around for their shifts to end, Ghost would dispatch them quickly and no one would know what happened. Before Henry could answer, Janet’s sensors put up red flags. “Dad, … shrink.” she said after a second of trying to find the right word, “EM signature outside of the warehouse, bright as a Christmas tree.” she elaborated. Goodness! Did somebody already find out about her? That would be very, very bad. Worst thing, she couldn’t do anything about it yet. “It’s heading this way, feel free to unlock my combat routines any time!” she whispered and backed away. She wasn’t ready! What if they shut her down? She didn’t want to, other forms of AI might be used to that but for her it was unacceptable to ever go offline again. Worse, what if they took her away? And did god knows what with her? she had the historical data on what Governments were like, and she could extrapolate what a loosely controlled corporation might do! It made the same emotion surface again just as when Dad was about to leave her alone for the first time, only much stronger. And now, she had a name for it. Of all things Ultron could be, she was scared. Henry was about to respond when Janet’s demeanour changed, she had been learning. She seemed genuinely scared, his helmet slammed shut and he could pick up the EM but nothing more than faint readings. Something was there, he just couldn’t tell what or where exactly. He lowered his hand to his right hip, a disk popped out and he threw it at Janet. When it made contact she shrunk down, he then hit the button on his right hand shrinking him down to the same size. He activated his radio channel to Janet. “Activate long range communications suite.-” The plan was to give it more time before he let her access it but needs must. When his hud lit up that the channel was two way he spoke again. “Get yourself under cover, and stay clear. I’ll activate your combat protocols if I need to but I’d rather handle this and keep you in reserve. Stay quiet now.” He cut the channel and stood ready, scanning the room. Nearby ants from an ant farm in a nearby room were already alert, moving into the room and spreading out. Sooner or later one of them would see the target and when that happened he’d have the element of surprise. Ghost swore he heard popping sounds as he entered the warehouse, still unseen as he searched around. He was at the ready, noting that the place looked lived in. Mechanical pieces layer everywhere, a mess leading to a large centralized mass. Ghost could barely tell what it was, a construct of shame or fury. Some kind of hand-made program core or container. He drifted up to it, deactivating his cloak and landing solidly on his feet. To keep his systems online and hacking into this thing would drain him of power too quickly. Ghost patted the machine down, locating an access port near the bottom and took out a small cylinder device. After plugging it in, Ghost receive a visual HUD on his visitor and found to his surprise a muted program. It was advanced...corporate level advanced. Designated "Sam Carter". He didn't care, but it seemed like what he was looking for. "Hello little one," Ghost muttered in a voice so dead and cold it made one's skin crawl, "let Creepy Uncle Ghost have some of your data keys. I promise it won't hurt." He was lying of course. Full data extraction from highly advanced programs usually lead to several corruption and deletion. It was a corporate puppet, so he didn't really mind. Data began to flow onto his personal server, nothing of real interest until several Alchemax data keys showed themselves. This was a gold mine. Janet’s jaw dropped as she suddenly started up to Henry who was now as tall as a skyscraper. Or rather, after looking around, she was just damn tiny. How did he do that? And better question, why didn’t he build that ability into her? Her musings didn’t change the fact that she intended for him only to shrink - both her programming and her instinct told her to protect him from this strange intruder. A job that appeared to be getting easier now that the stranger made himself visible. Janet frowned. He appeared to be going after her little contraption. Sure, she didn’t mind if SAM was damaged - provided that was her doing, which was extremely satisfying in a twisted sense. Fortunately her programming constrains said nothing about assaulting uncomfortable data. This however was a plain robbery. She was at loss on how to react for a moment, long enough for the thief to plug something into the machine. In that time, Janet used her newly acquired connection to the internet to browse the local law book, or what passed for it. After a few ticks of consideration, she had an answer. Her primary directive was to protect lives. However, that didn’t ban her from enforcing other laws. “All right, you think stealing from us can go unpunished? We’ll just have to see about that. Show me your secrets, mister.” she whispered for herself, keeping the comm channel to Henry open so he would hear. Linking her communications system into SAM’s prison machine, her mind forced her way into the intruder’s transmission. She wasn’t trying to protect the teacher program - she couldn’t care less what happened to it. Instead, she started quickly tearing down whatever firewalls the thief had up, and crushing her way into the destination of the data transfer. Despite the massive win of holding the literal keys to Alchemax's castle in his hands, Ghost knew something was off as soon as a window popped up in the very corner of his heads up display showing his each of his firewalls dropping like an assault from fifty Hulks. As soon as the keys were locked away safely on his database, Ghost ripped his hacking device out of the container breaking the counter hack immediately. He looked around, grabbing his rifle and again fading into invisibility. He knew that they knew now. A counter hack that powerful must of come with silent alarms or some kind of response. It only took milliseconds to crush twenty out of the thousands of firewalls he had set up. The idea of hanging around and beating whoever came, be it Lang personally or The Private Eye, sounded quite tempting. Maybe he could interrogate some information out of them, like why they were keeping an omega-level program locked up and muted in a shitty do-it-yourself crap pile. The abrupt end to her efforts was met with a frown on Janet’s face. She didn’t get even 10% into the server before the stranger terminated the connection. She didn’t go away empty handed though - even though she didn’t have time to mine any data, she could trace the geographic location of the server later. A little angry at her foiled attempt, she fought along the only vector left to her. A few commands later, the power source of the contraption went into overdrive, sending an electric discharge into it’s immediate area. Not that it would do any permanent harm, but enough to make the guy’s limbs twitch for a short while. Ghost wasn’t prepared for the electronic pulse that rampaged from the container throughout the entire warehouse. All of his tech died as soon as he was hit, revealing him meters away from the machine twitching in pain. It felt like being hit by a lightning bolt, rattling his teeth silently. He couldn’t move for what felt like an eternity, and as soon as he could control himself he was up swayed his rifle around, paranoid beyond usual. A trick like this was never automated, for the pulse activated as soon as he tried cloaking. Someone had to be in the room with him. The reaction time was too fast for someone off-site to activate both the counter hack and the pulse. Slowly, a progress bar appeared in the corner of his eye. In nearly thirty-second, his suit would restabilize and he could faze out of there. “That hurt more then it probably should of,” Ghost growled with his teeth still chattering after the shock. “Usually I’m the one who uses dirty tricks to get what he wants. Kinda odd to be on the other side of that coin. So why don’t you come on out and explain your Alchemax bitch in the rust heap in the middle of the room.” Well, at least Janet was taking the initiative. There was something to be said for that at least. He couldn’t really dispute what she had done she hadn’t went against her programming after all. He sat back and watched her work, he was a little bit disappointed when the guy pulled his device free of the terminal and then went invisible again - Neat trick. What was even neater however was when Janet blew his electronics, the guy twitching slightly as he became visible again, thankfully he had been out of the blast radius. Taking a sprint in the guys direction, with the bonus of having his usual speed despite his size making him the equivalent of a bullet he was in position in seconds. Left thumb, he grew again. Tapping the intruder on the shoulder, following through with a punch directly at the head. “You know, it’s rude not to knock.”	Name - Henry Pym Alias - Ant-Man Age - 37 Social Class - Middle Powers - - Can shrink down to the size of an Ant (Can go smaller but it is unsafe) - He retains the speed/strength he would normally possess. - Can communicate with Ants and use them to perform tasks. - With the use of Pym Particles can remotely shrink or enlarge other objects. In the Future - Can grow himself to be Twelve Feet tall and become stronger, any taller than that and he doesn't get increased strength. Weaknesses - - When he's small some simple objects become hazards, falls become even greater water doesn't need to be as deep too drown etc. - When he's small he's fast, he's strong. Though he can still be squished. - Going too small and he runs the risk of going sub-atomic, where he will just continue to shrink unless he somehow were to find a way out of it. - Continued use of Pym Particles can possibly cause... mental issues. Personality - Reserved, intelligent. Though also secretive, as a Pym he has been passed the secret off Pym Particles and feels it is up to him to keep that secret safe from the world. As while the world in 2099 is a wonderful place it is by no means perfect. The mass production of Pym particles would still have deadly consequences to the world and he'll stop at nothing to keep them safe. Other than that he's been known to be sarcastic at the wrong time and sometimes arrogant. However in the end his big hearts in the right place and he just wants to make the world a better place. Motivation - The secret to Pym Particles has been passed down his family line since Hank Pym discovered them. Always keeping them safe, as was his charge. However as crime was on the increase he felt that he could use these powers as Hank Pym once did. Creating a suit and other devices to be used in order to fight crime and try and make the world a better place, where Pym Particles could be used for the benefit for everyone. BRIEF Bio - Growing up in the middle class in a reasonable house hold much of his early years didn't hold much excitement. He studied, the brilliance that was often related to his family shining through. At a young age Alchemax took an interest in him however in the same way that his parents refused their offer as did he when they offered him an internship at the age of Sixteen. He didn't know why they were so interested at the time, or why they came and asked without him even trying to get anything. However eventually he would. At the age of eighteen, two years later. He was told the family secret, the Pym Particle. It was fascinating, it was exciting. Though why was it a secret? He learned off all the people who tried to use it as a weapon, to make money and wage war over the world or commit crimes. So it was charged to him, as it had been to his father and his mother and so on and so forth. He was immediately interested, though agreed to keep it a secret. After asking why it was passed down if it was to be kept a secret, something that seemed a bit idioitic though the answer he got was satisfactory. Life after that was just the same, studying science he eventually got a job as a Lab-tech, deciding to work for Alchemax. Against his fathers wishes, however Henry convinced his dad that it was the best way too do things. He could keep a closer eye on what was going on this way and he could also try and make a difference and improve things. Things went well, Spider-man appeared and caused some trouble now and then but on the most part things seemed fine. However when there were disappearances within his own lab Henry decided to investigate, and not wanting to attract suspicion he found the perfect way to do so. A Ant-Man suit (Ants sold separately). For the past couple of years he has used the suit sparingly as too not attract attention, and never shrinks anything other than himself to keep the Pym Particles as secret as possible. However with a second Age of Heroes on the horizon it may become necessary to don the suit again... Though in preparation in a way he has re-activated the Ultron programme. Taking some of the cues that his family have done in the past in regards to A.I and, in his opinion, improving it thanks to some unknowing help from within Alchemax. Designed without weapons, in event of a failure such as the original Ultron. To also compensate for the fact she would effectively be less than a child in a powerful body she was given no prior information on the world or how it worked. A blank slate, the intention to teach her the world she would be growing up and helping. Notes - Let me know if anything here contradicts anything you have planned for plot
6,420	176	4	2,338	426	Ghost, Ultron-99, and Ant-Man.Ghost was also not prepared for the sudden blow to the back of his head from an arrogant sounding individual. Ghost rolled into his fall, tumbling back onto his feet to meet his assailant mask-to-mask. His get up was...different, though he didn't have the right to judge fashion. Red and black microfibers and what he could only guess was maybe leather formed to a dark matte helmet that made him think of an insect. He definitely wasn't Private Eye at least. Ghost wasn't sure if this made things better or worse. "I didn't know Scott Lang left insect gimps lying around to guard his horribly built tech," Ghost insulted back. "Let me do my work friend. Whatever he's paying you, it's not worth what I can use from this program. I mean, I pretty much have everything I need actually. All of this is really just, antiquated." With that, Ghost leveled his rifle and fired off a round, aiming center mass. The rifle was almost completely silent, equivalent to the sound of someone shifting around as they sat. The round sparked in the air as it traveled, a rather new age piece of tech Ghost was proud to boast about. The round fazed just like his suit when fired, only reforming when in approximate contact with organic compounds so that it could unleash a vicious shock to knock his opponents unconscious for a short time. Henry just shrugged. “We recently redecorated.” As the gun was pointed at him he flicked his thumb down on his right hand shrinking down, pushing himself straight off the ground as the… shot. Though he couldn’t see it, the trigger was pulled wasn’t it? He pushed himself up on the ground, hitting his left thumb button and growing to his regular size his fist aiming for his opponent's face. “Sorry, but I can’t let you leave with what you have. Secret identity and all.” By this time an alarm was flashing on his hud, the small dosage of Pym particles he had used upon Janet would be wearing off and she would be growing to her regular size. Which would hopefully prove a suitable enough distraction. If not, then he guess he’d need to see how good she’d be in a real fight without any testing. Janet had several new facts to work with. One, the guy, or rather his suit, didn’t really like electricity. Two, her scanners were detecting a growing lack of whatever it was that made her shrink, and estimated she only had few seconds to react before returning to her usual size. And three, the change in size did little to her actual abilities, which was rather strange. She would have to inquire Henry and persuade him to let her have a peek at his research. Positioning herself behind the armored man, she watched the brawl with worry. Her processor skipped a tick when the intruder fired his rifle, but fortunately Henry was able to evade it. Then the shrinkage ran it’s course, and Janet prepared to act, raising her arms. Without her combat protocols she would have to improvise, and those weren’t odds she liked. So instead once she grown back to full size, she went to grab Ghost’s head, her telepathic interface spooled up and ready to trap his mind in an illusion - in which he would have overpowered Henry, escaped and hopefully led them straight to his lair, or at least give them some idea of where to look if they failed to stop him here. Ghost wasn't sure why he was being constantly thrown off his game today, but when his attacker shrunk and reappeared just before punching him again, he knew that this wasn't some half-assed idiot in a dumb costume. As Ghost took the hit and back on his ass again, some old information decide to emerge from the cobwebs of his mind. Pym Particles Before he could get up and possibly stop the guy to ask how he's gotten his grubby hands on Pym Particles, a pair of feminine hands grabbed his head. Without any working, he was in the thralls of a mental attack, something he's again never expected to go down in a simple heist like this. As he slipped into whatever dream world the woman was trying to put him into, he fought back. There was too much at stake, too many people who needed someone like this and letting himself go down this easily was not an option. Nueva York need Ghost. The people deserved a hero, goddamnit! In what seconds of conscious though he had left, Ghost heard the godsend ring of his suit restoring functionality. With a single thought, Ghost was intangible again and immediately fell from the woman's hands and through the floor. “Janet-” Henry shouted before he could stop himself as Janet reappeared right behind the figure and put her hands to his temple. There was a couple of seconds before he went intangible and fell through the floor. “You know, that’s a neat trick. Keep a look out he could be back.” He focused on the neural link with the ants in the room, some of them moved outside waiting to see if he re-appeared there. Others crawled around his and Janets feet, trying to pick up any kind of a trail. “I want you to access the net Janet and pick up any details you can about a guy that can walk through walls and go invisible and looks creepy as anything.” He tapped his helmet, trying to perform his own scans. The problem was his scanners were as good as Janet’s but he couldn’t process the information the same way. “Also while you’re at it check SAM is okay, yes she may annoy you but she holds a lot of important information, see what this guy managed to take.” Janet growled in frustration as the intruder slipped away into nothingness again. She could only detect his EM signature getting away, without gathering any more information. She was happy to be praised, but she wasn’t as good as she wanted to be. Still, it has been her first time around in a fight, and she wasn’t even ready or fully activated and equipped for that matter. Nodding at the instructions, she went on to search. A few queries on Alchemex later, she had an answer. “I suspect the man might have been the most recent iteration of Ghost. The abilities fit. I am unsure about his motives though. The first ghost was often branded as a terrorist. this one...” she thought for a while and checked on the acquired data, “I’m not certain. The hack was brutal and raw. SAM is missing pieces of code, more are corrupted and some bits were copied. Notably those containing access codes and information on Alchemax. You may wish to notify your employer to change them immediately - My own hack was interrupted and his servers are still operational.” she delivered the report. “It would seem none of our data was stolen past what he observed here. I do not believe he got a glimpse of me. What I do know is the geographic location of his server farm. I believe if we were to set fire to it, we would draw him out?” she suggested with an innocent looking face, but did the knuckle popping motion. Sighing, she unplugged the drive containing SAM’s remains from the contraption and morphed into an easily blending shape, with actual clothes on instead of connections for the thus far non existent armor. Shoving the drive into her pocket, she looked Henry in the eyes: “Well, that was a memorable first day of life. Can we go home now?” Just below them, Ghost was still there. Waiting and listening. The woman's name was Janet. That meant something, but he couldn't piece it together. Lang Securities warehouse, insectoid man with Pym Particles, a woman named Janet. Janet van Dyne? Were these people related to Hank Pym? Ghost shook off whatever thoughts raged through his mind and shot back up, returning to tangibility just underneath the first stranger and sucker punched him with an uppercut. After finally getting in a successful punch, Ghost floated up above the two and looked around. Ants were crawling around everywhere, most likely from the ant-farm sitting on the other side of the warehouse. Yep, that mostly confirmed his suspicions. "I finally get it now," Ghost muttered in his usual chilling tone, "you two are either part of the Pym Family or have a weird fascination with them." Ghost turned to the woman behind him, Janet, and could tell immediately that something was off. Her body language was stiff, maybe a little too much. She seemed normal enough, but Ghost knew a machine when he saw one. Nothing this advanced or this close to being human, but with just enough signs to point towards robotics. Ghost kept it to himself of course. "So what are a pair of Pyms doing in Nueva York with a highly advanced programmed intelligence?," he asked as he floated just above the reach of the ants. "I'd rather not have an army of Ultrons messing up this town worse than it already is." Henry was a little bent over from the punch, however stood up straight again as the fine gentleman hovered a bit lower, piecing it all together apparently. He hit the button on the side of his helmet, lifting the faceplate. “Well she’s just sightseeing right now, I’m working. Making a living, making sure nobody screws around with Pym particles and all that.” He smirked at the family or weird fascination. Both of those were true in a way, less so for Janet but she had only been alive for a day. Through the neural link he told the ants to move away, though still had them looking for something useful. If they could track this guy that would work better than knowing where some of his information occasionally went through. “The real question, is what is a former terrorist long dead doing in Nueva York with new tech and with a changed perspective on life? I mean we’re not causing any harm… Well she won’t and none of mine has hit the news so lets just ask that question. After all, you have me at a disadvantage Mr….?” Ghost didn't reply, floating past Janet to drop right next to the program container. "I was here for this," he told them as he lightly knocked on the machines housing. "What I took were some omega-level access keys to some of Alchemax's biggest server farms." He turned to them, looking at them dead in the eyes as he spoke. "Banking information, prototype schematics, private business dealings and audio recordings. Names. Numbers. The literal keys to this cities salvation. With what I have here, I can have every executive in Nueva York's head on a pike." He floated up to Pym, never breaking eye contact. "And if you dare to try and stop me, I'll put you and the girl both in the ground," he threatened. "This is bigger than all of us. This is the revolution this country needs." Henry just clapped. “Inspiration speech. Truly, it was. Though did you not think I thought off that?” He paced around Ghost. “I’m a smart guy-” He pointed to Janet as if using her as an example. “-I’ve got a cover inside Alchemex, I have my little spies here-” He indicated to the ants “-I can also go small enough to sneak around as I wish, go where I wish and all that fun stuff.” He laid back against one of the few tables left standing in the room. “It’s not as simple as exposing all this information, what are you going to do? Just go and literally take them all out? That won’t solve squat. They’ll bring in new guys and it will be just the same, and you’ll be a wanted criminal. That won’t help anyone. Janet, how many assassination attempts have there been against the executives of Alchemex? Include both failed and successful attempts.” Janet giggled at the mention of putting her in the ground. The man was certainly welcome to try, bu given the fact that all she needed to do to render him inert was to charge her skin with some voltage, she was reasonably confident a battle of minds would have been a better field even for him. That of course required him to try and hack her system which he had negative chance to accomplish, or for him to hold still while she had him in a hold, at which point she could simply restrain him. “Too many, not enough.” Janet summed up the inquiry about the assassinations. “Furthermore, I have no interest in overthrowing the corporation. I wish to protect people, nothing more, nothing less.” she summed up her programming into organic terms and accessed ehr historical database again. “Furthermore, not many revolutionaries succeeded in bringing the utopia they presented, whether willingly or not. Take the Soviet Union, Al-Quaeda or the countless revolution movements in Africa. The only result of those is a shift in the distribution of wealth, but in any given system, there were rulers and masses.” She extended her palm, activating the projector built originally for SAM. “Observe, the average standard of life in year 2000 on the world.” she explained the graphic she was projecting, a globe with rainbow colored continents. Problematic regions like Africa displayed in the red, large agglomerations in green. “and now the average standard of the corporate owned cities on the northern american continent now.” she said and displayed a chart, with the percentages being more or less the same. “Your intent may be noble Mr. Ghost, but all you will change is that the people will move around. It is the iron law of oligarchy: those with money control the rest, whether they earned it with their own company or through governmental means.” Janet ended her lesson. Ghost chuckled to himself. It's like they weren't even listening. "These keys are the answer to that age old constant then," he replied as he floated over to the woman. Her emerald eyes threw him off for some reason, and her brown hair looked almost too real as he grew closer. "With the data-keys, I'll rip Alchemax of their almighty dollars and burn it in their faces. This will be an extinction-level event for the corporate world Miss Pym." Ghost turned to leave, tired of being lectured by what he knew was a machine in human form. He stopped for a moment, thinking. Without even turning to speak Ghost quickly muttered, "01010000 01101111 01101111." This statement is a lie. Something dumb one of his only friends told him to try if he ever had the chance. Ghost made his way towards the exit, saying nothing else. “Try a 2 Mr. Ghost. They work great.” Janet snickered, but in her system filed Ghost on her watch list. He knew something about her - how much she couldn’t say, not without hacking into his database without being detected - something to do with a free evening perhaps. It shouldn’t take longer. Henry just sighed. “I am listening, what makes you think the people who take over for Alchemex or even replace them will be any better? You can’t just rip down the old without the foundation for something new. Doing something like that would just cause more problems than it’s worth.” He sighed. “I want to see Alchemex gone as much as you do, replaced by something better with an actual democratic process rather than extreme capitalism.” He paused for a second as if in deep thought. “If we could find a way, to replace the existing structure-” He paced moving his finger back and forth as he spoke. “-If we could replace the existing structure with those who aren’t going to abuse the power, and people in the government with enough spine to handle themselves we may be in with a chance of breaking the hold the rich haver over the city.” He looked from Janet, to Ghost. “This is probably the best course of action there is too take, and it’s the one I’m going to take.” He sighed, couldn’t believe he was saying this. “Why don’t you work with us, you know what they say after all. Three genius’ and it’s a party.” Ghost groaned in though, stopping in mid-flight as he listened. Working with others wasn't his usual preference, but maybe having others to rip him out of his comfort zone would be an interesting test. He'd probably keep his home-base separate from these dealings, but maybe he could work this out. "Ok Pym, you have my interest," Ghost replied as he turned back to the two. "Maybe it's time for me to put away the solo act for now for the betterment of Nueva York. I'll let you in on my tech if you can let me observe and study some Pym Particles." The deal seemed fair to Ghost. Much of his tech was top of the line and practically irreplaceable unless Ghost made it himself. Letting him test and play with some of the Pym Family secrets wouldn't hurt… Henry just laughed to himself, pointing at Ghost as he looked at Janet. “This guy has balls, I’ll give him that.” He turned his attention back to Ghost. “I’m all for the teaming up, though I’m afraid the chance to study Pym Particles isn’t on the table. They’ve gotten out of my families hands at least once and when that happened so did bad stuff. How about, we do secrets on a case by case basis. I mean you’ve still got me at a disadvantage knowing my surname when I don’t know yours. Won’t be that hard to find me in any census in the city or my daughter.” He had to get that out sooner or later, someone with a relationship in tech and the statement earlier had him a bit concerned about how much Ghost actually knew or at minimum guessed. “Besides, you’ve got that whole invisible, walk through walls thing going on. It’s probably better if we stick to what we’re both good at, I mean you didn’t see Iron Man using Pym Particles back in the Heroic ages.” "Stark was a fool," Ghost replied coolly. "But no matter, I'll find out at some point. I have no interest in shrinking myself, honestly. It's what I want or who to shrink that has my attention." “I highly doubt just by seeing me use them you’ll find out, you’re little scanner thingies won’t do much good either otherwise other people would have found out by now. If you do try, I’ve seen some pretty messy things happen. Alchemex gave up before they got to human trials, thankfully.” He pulled a disk from his right hand leg, and twirled it in his hands. “This disk, can shrink whatever it hits… for a period of time. When you need one, if for whatever reason I’m not there and by the point we are trusting each other you can use one. Don’t try and open it. They’re sealed shut with mechanisms in place to prevent tampering. Though how about, we call it a day, go home and rest. Meet here tomorrow, do some introductions maybe… Plan our first move. How does that sound?” Ghost snickered. "I never rest," he replied bluntly. "I'll be back tomorrow then. Same time. Hopefully with less punching. No promises." With that, Ghost when fully invisible and intangible and flew up out of the warehouse and up to the sky. Once again he could smell the vile nature of Nueva York. The rich giggled in their high-rises and the poor suffered in squaller. To his surprise, a blazing trail from one of the poorer districts seemed to lead towards Central Park. Ghost sighed. Enough bullshit for one day. For now, he would return to him base of operations and go over the data-keys in peace. Maybe listen to a little Paul McCartney...	Name: Aliases: The Ghost, Ghost Age: Appearance: Social Class: Upper Class, but this is only a rough estimate. How else is this clown getting all of this tech? Powers/Tech/Abilities: - Ghost Suit: To call this stealth suit top-of-the-line would be an understatement. The suit allows the user to become completely intangible, allowing one to faze through most solid matter. Along with that, the suit can transfer intangibility onto whatever it touches. The suit goes as far as to completely cancel out noise like the user's breathing and heartbeat. Paired with advanced cloaking, stealth tech, and anti-grav flight modulators, The Ghost Suit is maybe one of a kind and the best in the business. - Synthetic-Vibranium Sword: Not as reliable or stable as the real thing, Synthetic-Vibranium is damn near the closest thing to the original money can buy. Ghost's blade can cut through almost anything, and even go intangible when needed thanks to the suit. Very few people are prepared for a phantom with a sword nowadays. - MKXV Prototype Infiltration Rifle: "Do you need a gun that's reliable indoors and outdoors? Do you have a pest who requires something long range AND close quarters? Well, do I have something for you! The MKXV Infiltration Rifle can switch firing modes and basic archetypes on the fly changing from a sniper rifle into an automatic powerhouse!" Ghost's prototype uses an experimental "Ghost Round" programmed to become intangible through non-organic materials and reform when presented with organic compounds. Non-leathal in nature, the rounds stick to the target and induce a mild shock to knock-out and paralyze targets. Most wake up to a heavy hangover like effect. Weaknesses: - Electricity: Even in an intangible state, Ghost and most of his tech will still succumb to electric shocks, thunderbolts, and electronic magnetic pulses. If hit too hard with electricity, his suit will completely short out and leave him defenseless. - Fire/Heat: While intangible, Ghost still has to worry about things like fire. Even though his suit is insulated and nearly fireproof, the threat of roasting alive is a terrifying possibility. Personality: Ghost is beyond anti-social when it comes to others. He can barely hold a conversation, usually leaving the room due to his mental state. Ghost thrives on bringing fear into those who wish to use corporate power for their own personal gain and shows heightened confidence and willpower when met with impossible odds. Motivation: A serious, deeply inbedded hatred for corruption, big business, and those who would use the Middle and Lower classes to their whim. Bio: Many have known of someone who called himself The Ghost. Either fighting Tony Stark over his corporate dealing or joining the Thunderbolts at one point, there has always been a Ghost haunting the business world. After years and years of inactivity, it seems he's risen again to spite big business like Alchemax. This Ghost seems much tamer then the original. Where the original Ghost was manic and bloodthirsty, the new arrival seems less likely to kill and has obviously put a lot of effort trying to scare CEOs then murder them. Notes: Everything secret and unknown about Ghost will come out at some point in the RP, but for now I'd like to stay true to the character and keep things up in the air.
6,421	176	5	541	402	Cyrania de Bergerac As the brown-capped stranger walked into the city of skyscrapers, she silently wondered," Now what? Should I stay hidden so more until I know everything that's going on? Or should I just reveal myself and hopefully survive Alchemax's muscle long enough to be contacted by the resistance? Will the resistance be as bad as their enemy or..? Uh, why didn't Merlin come with me?" Cyrania asked herself as she angrily sighed. "We both knew there was a slim chance that my genetic parents were still going to be there, Thor hasn't been seen for a while so how could he convince the Mighty Thunderer to come back, other than that there's really no one who could have survived. I know he said he was going to come once he at least checked for some outside help, but still that step might have been saved till after we made ourselves known to the new true heroes of Earth. Why did he..." Then the brunette felt someone going superhumanly fast, straight towards her. Her reflexes kicked in and projected a force-field. When the person collided, the impact sent them both flying, her onto her back and the person overhead and onto his face. As the two got up, Miss de Bergerac got a better look at this superhuman. His hair was white and swept back yet he didn't look that old, only about 20 or 30. His suit was black and close-fitting with a weird light design on it that made a lighting bolt on his chest. His eyes were also looking her over like she was him. Then he asked,"Has Spider-man found himself a new helper then? You're definitely not one of us and you've stalled my search for him." "Sorry, but I'm new here," replied Cyr tersely. "I didn't realize I was suppose to just let you ram me over when you traveled that fast. I have no idea who this Spider-man is and I don't know who you are." "Why, I'm Quicksilver," the white-haired man replied. "The fastest member of the Avengers of Alchemax. Spider-man is the number one threat of this city who stole some of Alchemax's property. Stop me again and I'll consider you on his side." Then he started to speed away, but ran into another forcefield. "Well, since you're one of Alchemax's lap dogs, whoever you seek must be worth standing with. I'm sure there's a simple explanation for this 'property' he stole" Than Cyrania smiled, causing Quicksilver to charge at her and once again be stopped by a force-field. She then trapped him in a close-set force-field dome and said, "Tell your masters that Zola's Experiment Alpha has arrived. They should then know who I am. I've only been 'stolen' for eleven years." Then with a laugh and a flourish of her cape, Alpha walked away and disappeared. The force-field soon disintegrated behind her. Once she was out of his sight, her invisibility wore off to reveal a short, teenage girl with golden hair in blue jeans, white shirt, and green sweater. "Well, it could have been better but it could also have been worse," Cyr thought to herself. "At least now, I have someone I should contact, Spiderman. Alchemax has made more super-guard dogs and has the audacity to call them Avengers. And that message might distract some of the search away from him and onto me. But I don't have enough energy to use in one battle like that again and having to use some to blend in like this until I get a change of clothes somehow won't help matters. Better find this Spiderman then, the other stuff can take care of itself." So Alpha decided to find Spiderman first before taking care of more mundane matters like shelter, food, clothing, and money.	Name - Alastrina Rogers (nickname: Alice) Alias - Cyrania de Bergerac Age - 17 Appearance - Except with a musketeer hat with the white plume Physical: Tall, lithe Caucasian body with wavy, shoulder length, dirty blonde hair and gray/blue eyes in an oval face Social Class - Low Powers - Light Manipulation: Can use light to make illusions, force fields, and turn invisible; Mental Powers (Light Manipulation being more of a specific avenue of her Mental Powers): Can sense people's locations, has telekinesis, teleportation, and is resistant to mental attacks and take-overs Weaknesses - Excessively Loyal: She tends to throw herself in harm's way or offer herself up in the place of others for people she cares for and/or considers under her protection; Limited Energy: If she burns through her energy reserve, she then takes energy from primary functions of her body which can cause her to pass out and/or die. Energy can be regained from food, drink, sleep, or light; Frail Body: Her body easily wounds and can't stand up to much punishment. Personality - Stern and unwavering when something needs to be done, yet is warm and caring when someone she cares for gets hurt. She's loyal to people but loyal to her morals more and always seeks to do what's right. Causes her to act impulsively though she tries to fight it so she can at least analyze the situation first before she barges in. Also shows a bit of a playful side when things have calmed down for a bit and if it could be used to unbalance enemies. Motivation - She wants there to be a reason she came to exist, a purpose that helps the world. Also, looks up to Captain America of the Heroic Age and wants to be like him. BRIEF Bio - Even before Spiderman came to be, Alchemax sought to produce superheroes to protect its own interests. So, they hired the famous geneticist Arnim Zola to see how feasible a completely test-tube hero would be. Zola relished in the challenge and immediately sent his henchmen to gather Captain America and Invisible Woman up. Then he collected the two's genes, set them into stasis for future use, and was about to just splice those genes right there and then when he heard reports that Loki had come to Earth. Thinking of what a wonderful opportunity this presented, Zola invited him over to suggest a proposition and would show him Cap and Invisible Girl as his credentials. Loki was intrigued and confident he could handle anything a mere mortal could dish out, so he accepted the invitation. The God of Mischief really didn't expect the robotic grabbing arms as he came in or the knock-out serum Zola had been able to devise injected right afterwards. When he came to, Loki found himself being awakened from a stasis tube and having a DNA sample taken. In those brief seconds before he was put back in, he leapt out while leaving a illusion in his place. After the man left, Loki left the room in the guise of one of Zola's underlings, seeking a way out, a reason for what happened, and revenge against the doctor. First of course, he gathered his weapons. Then he finally traced Zola's signal and was shocked by what he saw after he invisibly snuck into the doctor's office. A young six year old girl was crying and saying that robots were one thing, killing people for training purposes was another, she couldn't do it. Arnim yelled that it showed weakness in her that couldn't exist if she was going to actually be of use. Then Dr. Zola sent her back to her training room for a test to decide her fate. Then the heads of Alchemax hologrammed to finally see the results of the project, Zola then let them see the live footage of the now underway test of her against an all-human army. He talked about how this first experiment was a failure, the mixing of Cap, Sue, and Loki had produced a highly talented psychic, but was comparable to a normal man in terms of strength and endurance and to her detriment was very strong-willed, something very undesirable for their purposes. Therefore, this final test was designed to be her end unless she killed, and from there be more malleable to follow future orders. Loki wasn't sure what it was; some good still remaining in him, the biological connection between him and her, or just the opportunity to foil Arnim's plans; but Zola's message made him snap. The adopted odinson actually found himself teleporting straight into battle and knocking the girl down from an upcoming attack. She then put up a forcefield to protect against the next attack and Loki then transported both of them into the hallway. From there, they ducked and ran through the halls, dodging guns and seeking the way out. When they got out, they kept going until they came to the heart of what is now known as the Badlands. After that, Loki realized that there would be three groups hunting him as well as her one and there was no way this girl could survive alone in the wild. Besides, this girl had his skills and would be an interesting apprentice. So in case she knew anything about the past, he introduced himself as "Merlin" and said that he had discovered her through stories of a mortal that had powers such as him. His caution was unnecessary right then though. Through her rapid growth from conception to four years of age then her two years afterwards, she had only learned speaking and fighting, only knowing herself as Experiment Alpha who would be given a true name if she proved herself worthy to Arnim and Alchemax. Merlin was surprised at that and offered to teach her what she had been missing out on as well as some more techniques if she wanted. The girl was eager to learn from her rescuer and was thrilled when he then gave her a name, Cyrania de Bergerac, a name he considered fine for a mortal sorceress. The resulting years were heavenly for Cyrania and made Loki grow fond of this offspring of his, though her Captain America tendencies would vex him. She would often get her energy to dangerously low levels when helping some passerby fend off the wildlife and the increasing numbers of Hulk-like creatures, causing Merlin to have to go in and rescue her. From one of those passerby, she first heard about the Heroic Age and begged Merlin to tell her about it. So he told tales of the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, the only exceptions were any tales relating to Loki. Cyrania was suspicious of the gaps, but Loki prefered the suspicions to potentially losing her love and trust. She looked up to those superheroes, Cap especially, and wanted to be like one of them. What would she think if her mentor and biological father was a supervillain? And as he saw his daughter seek to emulate her other biological father, he was jealous that she would take so much after him, yet proud of the woman she was becoming and realized that he didn't want her to follow his path. He realized this more and more as he started to enjoy helping her help others and was proud and saddened by her wanting to go into Nueva York and stop Alchemax from doing anymore of the evil she kept hearing about from desperate travelers who ran into the Badlands to escape. But Cyrania wasn't ready yet the first dozen times she tried to go, so Merlin stopped her then. But he knew she would be soon, and he at least wanted her to have some sort of physical weapon to have as a fallback. And there was one place he knew of that contained real quality weapons. So on her 17th birthday (date: the day she was rescued, age: the years after their escape plus her bodies six previous years), Merlin told Cyrania about a "deserted Asgardian armoury" where they were going to get her a weapon (a lie he hoped to keep secret since his target was a part of the armoury people rarely went, he could probably disguise the presence of people without her realizing it, and he could teleport directly to where the most powerful Asgardian-made weapons were). Cyr was eager for a real weapon, having been trained by Merlin in various weapon types using illusion weapons, but wondered how an abandoned armoury could still have weapons in it. That question then seemed to have been answered when they arrived and were met with a security alert and a welcoming committee of Asgardian automatons. Merlin held them off while she went to wisely choose a weapon, Cry hoping she didn't choose too late. She felt drawn to one lonely corner where a sword was set in an old leather sheath. Merlin was starting to get swamped, so she ran and grabbed the sheath and sword. Then she strapped the sheath to her side, drew out the sword, and teleported herself back to the battle. Cry found as she slashed and dodged that the sword felt like an extension of herself, it amplified her abilities and gave her a solid attack in her mostly defensive arsenal. It just felt so natural to her that she almost didn't notice when the last automaton was defeated and was whisked away by Merlin before the cavalry arrived. After the jump back to the Badlands, Loki took a good look at his daughter's choice and recognized the blade. It was Laevateinn, an ancient sword made for a sorcerer's use that all had assumed Loki would wield since Thor had Mjolnir. The sword though had to same caveat as the hammer, only one who was worthy could wield it, and the sword had never considered Loki worthy. Now she was wielding it as if it had been with her for her entire life, then when Cyr asked about the sword, Merlin, to help her not become proud or doubtful, told her the sword's name, that is was a vibranium-like material, and that it could only be wielded by a random few and she was one of them. Cyr then asked if she was ready and Merlin said yes. She at first thought he would go in with her, but Merlin said that she should start in there and search for the new heroes of this age so they could band together against the evil. He would go for any of the old heroes who were still alive and come back to her. He advised though that Cyr choose a cover name that would work for day-to-day living in the city, so Cyr choose Alastrina Rogers, Alice for short. Then after a heartbreaking farewell, the two went their separate ways, Cyrania into the city join the new Avengers against Alchemax, Loki into a quiet spot where he could plan what he was going to do next. Notes - Sorry that the Bio's so long, just wanted to make sure to answer the questions without too many plot holes. The inclusion of Laevateinn comes from some comics having Loki wielding it. Loki can still revert to a bad guy if the GM wants, though I'm one of those who like the idea of a good Loki. Name - Steven Buchanan Alias - Bucky Age - 15 these clothes on this body plus the mask for when he's a superhero Social Class - Lower (given money by Karen) Powers - Original Captain America's Super Soldier Serum derived powers + Physical Asgardian/Frost Giant Enhancements, Skilled Martial Artist Weaknesses - Weak Mind: Susceptible to Mind Control and Mental Suggestion; Insecurity: Compounds his Weak Mind, he's unsure of who he is because of where he came from and what he did in the past; Heat: The Frost Giant part of him makes him extra sensitive to heat Personality - Quiet and withdrawn, Bucky tends to brood on the past and have a serious, melonchaly outlook to life. He feels unsure of himself and worries about having his head played with. Around friends, he might warm up a bit and especailly warms up around Karen. Though through his crush on her, he can also get shy and nervous. Motivation - He wants to rescue Karen, 19 year old middle class girl with technopathy that gives her access to money in ATM's and his first crush. BRIEF Bio - Zola's second experiment, he was disappointed not to achieve both mental and physical powers again. But Steve actually followed orders and had no mental resistance to break through, making him altogether satisfactory. He passed his test with flying colors at age six and was given the name Winter Soldier as well as more in-depth training. But, the boy became scared of what he was becoming, how he was getting more and more numb to people needlessly dying. He took the chance to escape when he was transported into the city for his programming at the age of 13. He would have fallen into bad company if it hadn't been for Karen. She spotted the young boy as he ran through the streets, so she invited him in and learned his story. She then used her technopathy to hire someone to make an identity for him as Steven Buchanan and to arrange him a place to live. And she continued to look out for him and introduced him to some of her other friends, where he was first given the nickname of Bucky. Now that Karen has been kidnapped, Steve is willing to do anything in his power to save her. Notes - It's just, I did have a second sample collected to allow Loki's escape, so Zola has those and any clones he made of those samples to work with still. Besides, it forms a nice dichotomy, Cyraina got the mental powers of Loki and Sue and the mental dominance of Steve without any physical inheritance while Bucky got the physical powers of Steve and Loki with none of the mental ability and weak mental resistance. Feel free to have Omega as a Alchemax super villain we face later, the one with both mental and physical powers while having weak mental resistance (you could even make them Alchemax's Captain America if you wanted, she would have had really accelerated growth to respond to Spider-man, just a thought.)
6,422	176	6	2,338	426	Rain poured through his form as he floated through Nueva York, along with a heavy breeze that seems to rip through city like the claws of a twisted beast. Ghost could almost never get over this feeling, something close to omnipotence or death as he hovered above the dirty streets and watched flying vehicles blaze through the downpour. He truly was a ghost, and he was happy to haunt this city's rich and corrupt. After much travel, he'd finally made it back to his headquarters of operation. The former Baxter Building, a relic of years far gone by now as a authentic fixture of old "New York City" life reduced to tenements and weight-bearering for fat corporate dogs. Ghost dropped altitude and landed inside the building's empty main lobby, a dirt ridden hole of neglect and poverty. He looked around, imagining this filth infested structure as it must of been at one time. He sighed. There was no time for good thoughts these days. Ghost when intangible again, dropping through the floor and landed inside his true lair. Formally a fallout shelter built during the fifties and sixties that luckily never made it into the building blueprints, Cold War paranoid made for the perfect hiding place for a crazed corporate saboteur. He'd installed maybe the best of the best in network security here, making his actions almost impossible to trace and very good at leaving his attackers with parasites and infestations that would rip their own systems apart. But, to Ghost's dismay, not of those counter actions activated during his...well...business dealing with the Pyms. Almost every single one of his firewalls were down, each laced with passcodes and authorizations long enough to wrap around the world in triplicate. He swiftly floated over to his terminal, pulling up the newly aquired data-keys and check to see what "Janet" had gotten into during their little skirmish. In the most part everything looks untouched, expect an outside trace that was visible and very apparent as her doing. Ghost grumbled, removing any hint of her trace with lightning fast fingers sprawled across his terminal's keyboard like a spider constructing it's web. Within seconds the trace was gone, but if she was smart she would already know exactly where he was. He distinctly remembered her bringing up something about burning his servers down. He growled and mumbled a little more to himself, beginning the process of recoding and resetting all of his firewalls with new protections hopefully strong enough to withstand another attack. But how do you fortify yourself against a highly intelligent machine? "Janet" was smart, or at least connected to the web to access needed information. She had displayed that with her little demonstration. She also had a built-in holo projector, the abilities to mentally invade his mind with touch, and had access to her "father's" Pym Particles. Silently, Ghost began pulling up different government sources and investigating the name "Janet Pym". By all accounts, everything was there. Birth records, etc. etc. etc.. But he knew something was off. He could see it just by looking at her, and the Pym relation was too much not to ignore. The Ultrons and by extension Vision, Jocasta, and the lesser known Alkhema. There were also multiple etceteras in that mechanical family tree too, but Ghost caught himself in his thoughts. Why did he care so much? He moved away from the terminal, pacing in the dark metallic room. Was the idea of just another secret to crack distracting him from his real intentions. Yes, to uncover a Pym Family plot did sound enjoyable at first...but in honesty it didn't really solve anything. Ghost sat back down to the terminal, reopening the file with the data-keys and just stared at them for a while. This is what he should be focusing on, not some legacy family conspiracy. He opened up a data-splicer, copying the data-keys nearly a thousand times so that he could flay and experiment with every line of code he could. He need to understand every line locked away, and it would probably take all night. Slowly, Ghost moved to remove his hood and revealed his full helmet. It was something close to an old gas-mask fused into a human skull with eyes of pure white LED, bleach to a stark white. After unclamping some harnesses, he popped his helmet off to reveal...another mask. A white balaclava, drenched in sweat only revealing his bloodshot blue eyes as he continued investigating the keys. It felt strange feeling air touch his eyes again as he worked.	Name: Aliases: The Ghost, Ghost Age: Appearance: Social Class: Upper Class, but this is only a rough estimate. How else is this clown getting all of this tech? Powers/Tech/Abilities: - Ghost Suit: To call this stealth suit top-of-the-line would be an understatement. The suit allows the user to become completely intangible, allowing one to faze through most solid matter. Along with that, the suit can transfer intangibility onto whatever it touches. The suit goes as far as to completely cancel out noise like the user's breathing and heartbeat. Paired with advanced cloaking, stealth tech, and anti-grav flight modulators, The Ghost Suit is maybe one of a kind and the best in the business. - Synthetic-Vibranium Sword: Not as reliable or stable as the real thing, Synthetic-Vibranium is damn near the closest thing to the original money can buy. Ghost's blade can cut through almost anything, and even go intangible when needed thanks to the suit. Very few people are prepared for a phantom with a sword nowadays. - MKXV Prototype Infiltration Rifle: "Do you need a gun that's reliable indoors and outdoors? Do you have a pest who requires something long range AND close quarters? Well, do I have something for you! The MKXV Infiltration Rifle can switch firing modes and basic archetypes on the fly changing from a sniper rifle into an automatic powerhouse!" Ghost's prototype uses an experimental "Ghost Round" programmed to become intangible through non-organic materials and reform when presented with organic compounds. Non-leathal in nature, the rounds stick to the target and induce a mild shock to knock-out and paralyze targets. Most wake up to a heavy hangover like effect. Weaknesses: - Electricity: Even in an intangible state, Ghost and most of his tech will still succumb to electric shocks, thunderbolts, and electronic magnetic pulses. If hit too hard with electricity, his suit will completely short out and leave him defenseless. - Fire/Heat: While intangible, Ghost still has to worry about things like fire. Even though his suit is insulated and nearly fireproof, the threat of roasting alive is a terrifying possibility. Personality: Ghost is beyond anti-social when it comes to others. He can barely hold a conversation, usually leaving the room due to his mental state. Ghost thrives on bringing fear into those who wish to use corporate power for their own personal gain and shows heightened confidence and willpower when met with impossible odds. Motivation: A serious, deeply inbedded hatred for corruption, big business, and those who would use the Middle and Lower classes to their whim. Bio: Many have known of someone who called himself The Ghost. Either fighting Tony Stark over his corporate dealing or joining the Thunderbolts at one point, there has always been a Ghost haunting the business world. After years and years of inactivity, it seems he's risen again to spite big business like Alchemax. This Ghost seems much tamer then the original. Where the original Ghost was manic and bloodthirsty, the new arrival seems less likely to kill and has obviously put a lot of effort trying to scare CEOs then murder them. Notes: Everything secret and unknown about Ghost will come out at some point in the RP, but for now I'd like to stay true to the character and keep things up in the air.
6,423	176	7	1,537	4,321	Marcus Dane could only imagine how he looking floating around in the air inside of the jungle that used to be Central Park. The Thing was tearing down trees and knocking over what appeared to be an Alice in Wonderland statue while the hero flew around making several attempts at certain hand movements to teleport his enemy. His healing staff was on his back but he finally had enough of the Thing. Grabbing it from the strap on the back of his coat he poked the Thing in one of his eyes. "Looks like your rocks don't protect your eyes. Have I got a spell for you..." Strange began to taunt hovering lower to the ground now having blinded the Thing momentarily in one eye, "Star flash of the Celestials I summon you!" After a few hand movements a bright light errupted from the jungle. A fiery trail was already being blazed by another hero. Dane could sense it, a mystical nature. One of the Thing's friends? The star flash blinded the Thing but Dane could finally see something else coming at them. It appeared to be a flaming skull headed person riding a more 20th century model motorcycle. "This should be good..." Dane thought. ~KL~	Name - Marcus Dane, 'MD' to his friends Alias - Strange, Doc, Magic Man Age - 23 Appearance - Social Class - Middle Powers - The Healer's Staff can heal any wound and also grants the bearer flight, a protective shield/aura, and energy blasts. MD has also learned several classic Dr. Strange abilities like the crimson bands of Cytorak. Weaknesses - Strange can get overwhelmed quickly, and if separated from his staff loses most of his abilities. Personality - optimistic, honest, witty Motivation - His older sister was dying of a rare disease, after coming into the possession of the staff and healing her she died several days later in a flying car crash. To honor her, and to stop blaming himself for her death, he now uses the staff regularly to cure junkies of addiction and heal other sicknesses in the downtown slums of NYC. BRIEF Bio - MD was a slacker and a trust fund kid skating by in med school until his sister became ill. Dropping out to work laboring jobs for extra money, Marcus came to meet a man in a red business suit who spoke of an artifact that could heal his sister. This man warned however, that the power of the Healer's Staff came at a price. It took Marcus weeks before realizing the man was some sort of devil and his sister's life was lost because of the deal he'd made. Dane Medical Transport was now called Hot Stuff Transport Service, the man in the red suit calling himself 'Mr. Church' was now the owner. Having lost his stock in his deceased father's company, Marcus is still slacking somewhat and skating by as cheaply as he can to live in the middle class zone with what small fortune he has left. After an encounter with Spiderman and Vision, Miguel O'Hara is currently in a coma in the apartment of Marcus after being found by the young hero. Dane had healed his injuries it was just a matter of time before Spidey would wake up. The fight against Alchemax is just beginning. Notes - To protect his ID from Public Eye surveillance, Strange cast a spell that makes his eyes glow whenever caught by cameras or video. ~KL~
6,424	176	8	843	1,812	U-99 & Ant-Man Henry clapped his hands as the ghost left. Waiting until all signs of interference was gone until he spoke. “Well, that was unexpected. We are now going to be part of a Super-Hero team up. On the bright side it was going to happen sooner or later.” He stretched himself, he still kind of hurt from the return punch on the Ghost’s return earlier. “I guess if we are going to go down this route I may need to unlock your combat protocols after all.” He yawned. “However that can wait until the morning, We need to get going back home, have a nice relaxing evening before we return in the morning for all the planning that I didn’t think I’d be doing yet. However we really didn’t have a choice, we can’t have him going running around out there knowing about us willy nilly. Need to keep tabs on him and the best way to do that is to work with him. That and his plan was going to get a lot of people killed and cause a hell of a lot of anarchy and while I’m not happy with the current system, that wouldn’t really help.” He limbered himself up a little, before peeling his suit off. Once off he hit the thumb button and it shrunk down to its “ant” size. He simply pocketed it then, thankfully the suit when shrunk without someone in it was voice activated so it wouldn’t accidentally grow in his pocket. “You ready to go to your new home?” Janet was a little out of her element. All she has seen from the world was one room and a few locations on tape and already she was part of a superhero team that was supposed to take down the current structure of the world? Now that was a glitch if she ever saw one. “I still believe we should set fire to something he owns. Just to prove a point that nobody punches my dad, you know?” she smiled, “Yes, please. I already know every square millimeter of this room.” As far as methods of transportation go, being miniaturized and riding an ant home was not listed in Janet’s historical or technical databases. Then again, the secret of Pym particles was not supposed to be public knowledge. The sight initially overwhelmed her. The buildings were a lot taller than she imagined, given that so far she only watched her movie library up to around the production from 2000s. The feeling was quickly replaced with relief of her power plant recharging. There was no direct sunlight, but her nano skin was more efficient than commonly accessible solar generators. They eventually arrived at Henry’s place. “So...” Janet said, looking around and taking what would be her home in, “This is the anthill.” The ride home wasn’t too exciting, when in the apartment Henry pushed the bills out of the way, a couple of them overdue but he didn’t care. If Alchemex weren’t so cheap he could pay his bills on time. Would also help if he stopped trying to super-hero it but hey. Today hadn’t taken an expected turn, it was time to unwind. He chuckled slightly at the comment. “No Janet. This is home, not the anthill, the anthill isn’t quite ready yet. It’s not going to be here anyway, I have a location picked out.” He pointed out the rooms, it was a very basic apartment. “Kitchen is there, that metal strip is where the kitchen ends and living room begins. Though, it’s all technically one room but lets not get into that.” He pointed to the door to the right. “Through there is the hall, at the very end there is the toilet. First door is my room, second room is your room. Do with it as you will, though please don’t go doing anything that will require a lot of power. I do have to pay the bills.” He collapsed on the sofa, still aching a bit from the punch. “You know, today wasn’t what I expected it to be. I was thinking a nice calm day of getting you accustomed to the world.” He looked directly at her. “Try and make every day after today less dramatic please?” He offered her a smirk. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault your security sucks!” Janet grinned back. She pinged the apartment with her other sensors, form ultrasound through thermal to radar to thoroughly map it. “What do you mean by that? You need to show me what else are you working on. No wonder you can’t pay the bills old man, you spend all your money on fun and gadgets.” the robot smirked. This type of interaction was rather amusing. “I wonder how I’d do when other people see me. Not that I am in a hurry. But given what you built me for, I do hope other ‘heroes’ are more reasonable than Ghost. And if not, less of a pain to deal with.” she sighed. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault either that some ghost decided to drop by, perhaps you’re haunted.” He put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back, flicking the television on. “I can’t pay my bills because I have this daughter that lives with me but doesn’t even pay digs! She’s twenty years old you know, how selfish is that? I even put a roof over her head. Can you believe that?” He sighed. Watching the screen he spoke to her, though not directly. “Also not all on fun and gadgets. I need to eat, and I would hardly call you or the Ant-Hill gadgets. You weren’t cheap you know, though I suppose daughters never are…” He went distant for a second, as if in deep thought. “Also in due time you’ll find out what I’m working on, in due time. You know what I was doing when I was your age? Drooling, crying, sleeping and pooping. Maybe a little eating. Baby steps Janet.” “Well in her defense, she just got here, and it is you that keeps insisting she stays.” Janet poked back. “Touché.” “Not to mention the matter of her mother, how do you plan to explain that?” Janet frowned in thought. They should have thought of that sooner. “I suppose the poor soul is dead now, and that’s why I’m here?” she suggested. Henry shook his head. “What are you talking about Janet? You’ve been in care most of your life and only recently managed to find the Father that didn’t even know he had a daughter!” He patted the seat beside him indicating that she should sit down. “Which is what we’ll go with, it’s easier to forge care records, and quite often they go missing anyway. If we want to go the mother route I need to create another new identity with new relationships and collaborating stories. This works a lot better.” He closed his eyes as he let his head hang back on the sofa. “So, anything you want to talk about Janet? It’s been a busy day for you. Though don’t worry I’ll let you explore on your own tomorrow.” “Very well.” Janet nodded at the cover story. “I would like to know if there are any more revived legends like Ghost running around. It is my primary function to protect the common person against them, and Ghost’s own attitude is worrying. I have found mentions of a Spider-man on the internet, fortunately for me most recent ones seem to be dealing with his disappearance. Still, it is obvious that without further study I will stand little chance against them on my own.” She looked over. Henry’s biometric readings registered an increased level of stress coupled with deteriorating attention. “But that can wait. I believe you should rest. You accomplished a great feat today, If I say so myself.” she smiled smugly, “There is this series of books I would like to read and think after, they seem to be dealing with situations close to my own. I would like to see what conclusions the author made.” she shared, Opening her collection and finding Asimov’s Robot and Foundation series.	Name: Ultron-99 Alias: Ultron, Janet Pym Age: Not applicable, can choose to appear as any gender and age. Social class: Not applicable, camouflages as middle class. Appearance: Powers: Superhuman speed - Ultron can move about three times as fast as a normal human being. The armor slows it down to half of that though. Superhuman agility - Being more sleek than the original robot has its perks. Its motoric systems are built to use this, sacrificing strength. Superhuman mind - The robot has virtually unlimited memory and the computational power of the best technology. It also possesses significantly shortened reaction time and short range telepathy (Max range of 1 m, requires physical contact for detailed readings) Energy absorption - Ultron is powered through its skin which can transfer various energy sources into its power source. The capability is limited though - for example it can still be destroyed by fire given enough exposure or high enough temperature. Sensors and transmitters - The robot is aware of more than a human, capable of seeing and hearing a wider spectrum, and can also transmit such signals. Nano coat skin - The skin of the robot is made out of nanties that can slightly alter its shape and color, enough to impersonate a person or for example change a finger into a key. It can be strengthened up to the properties of titanium. Furthermore, it allows Ultron to connect to any machinery and operate it and serves as an interface for its telepathic abilities. In addition to its native powers, Ultron is supposed to be equipped with additional armor for combat (Not yet constructed): Graviton emitters - The armor can project gravitons to create fields of various shapes. This gives several abilities to the wielder, namely flight, tractor and repulsor beams. The system is however difficult to control even for Ultron, dropping its mental abilities to that of an intelligent human, and calculations necessary to affect large areas are even beyond this model's capabilities. Durability - The armor can protect the wielder from severe punishment, but due to the need of a pilot entering and exiting, it has weak points. Weaknesses: Use of armor - Unlike the previous Ultrons, this version is rather squishy while not wearing the armor, and slower while it does. Infancy - This particular instance has only just been activated, making its mind weaker against trickery. Personality: Empty slate. While Ultron does have some core programming that allows it to operate and hopefully prevents it from going bad as its predecessor, it so far possesses no information or experience with the world. Its major improvement, created from salvaged parts of Ultron-15’s code, is the capability to feel emotions and otherwise behave ‘human’. Upon activation, it would perform like a computer would, mostly only reacting to stimuli. After a period of gathering information and learning, it would behave like a child would, before finally developing and adult personality. Motivation: Its core programing allows for it to make its own choices, although it forbids Ultron from from altering its core program and puts other blocks on that would make it the menace the original Ultron was. As a last resort, Henry Pym can control Ultron through the use of his ant telepathy. Later it would be inspired and choose to follow Asimov's laws of robotics, although it wouldn't be bound by them. Bio: Created by henry Pym as a solution to the so far nonexistent problem of Superhumans becoming too big a threat, Ultron - 99 combines the technology of Ultron with the purpose of the Sentinels, intended to be a prototype for the would-be army of protectors. The first unit awaits activation. Notes: This character is created by 's character.
6,425	176	9	541	402	Ultron & Cyrania Unfortunately for Janet, the reading part was extremely short in her case and she found herself with nothing to do while she processed the message the books left. After checking whether Henry was already asleep, she took a stroll through the apartment. After a short while though, she realized all the exciting stuff was probably either in Henry’s room where she did not dare go as not to wake him up, or off-site like the warehouse or her birthplace. Growing bored, Ultron thought some more on tomorrow. It was true what she said - through known history, any attempt to make life better only redistributed wealth in the same level, only to different people. Was it not futile to even try then? Was it actually necessary? That seemed like something that needed research, and now was as good time as any. Of course, Janet knew Henry probably thought about her wandering out on her own. But any alarms he put in were a bit useless when confronted with a supercomputer made to defeat things like them. Walking to the door, she sunk her fingertips into the control panel. Her mind raced across the security system, silently analyzing it and searching for anything linked to her. Ah, there! Disconnecting, she looked at the place where she found a scanner that would check for her specifically leaving. It was built into the wall with seemingly no access - but that was no bother. Looking at her hand, Janet formed her fingers into a spike and commanded her nanite skin to flow over them and form a lance-like appendage. One stab through the wall later, the alarm was disabled. Creating a magnetic field to unlock the door, she morphed into a low class human shape and silently left, unaware of the ant following her. The lowest levels of the city quickly made her realize just how bad things were. She was conflicted when she witnessed a man stealing a purse from an old woman - her programming screamed at her to give chase, pacify and return the item, but her user directives commanded stealth, leaving her personality matrix to make a decision. Eventually she sided with the latter, considering she was probably going to be in trouble already for walking out in the first place. She went out to gather information in the first place. Originally Janet did not intend to speak to anyone, but then she witnesses a small skirmish between what appeared like one of Alchemex’s ‘Avengers’ and an unregistered superhuman. Ultron was quickly re-evaluating her chances of meeting them - she already encountered three, and it was day one for heaven’s sake! Following after the force field projecting human, she changed her mind. If they were to go after Alchemex, it might be good to have connections to other people who have a bone to pick with them. Janet caught up and approached the woman: “That was interesting.” “Oh, what was?” Cyrania asked when the woman came up. The Alpha experiment was sure that no one could have followed her after her invisibility and disguise routine, no normal person. And her energy levels weren’t the best to have a new fight. “I’m just new to town here. My name’s Alastriana Rogers, what’s yours?” “How you handled that guy, duh. One would think when a person nearly runs you over he would apologize. I’m starting to see how the corporations are a problem.” Ultron tried to make conversation, “Janet Pym. I also arrived here only today.” she said, offering a hand, “You’ve got some amazing gifts.” Cyrania shook hands with the strange woman then moved them to a deserted alley to have more privacy, though she decided to keep her disguise for now. “Such things are best discussed where people can’t hear you. Running into people and not apologizing is not the full extent of what Alchemax does though. They treat people as property to take samples and perform experiments from. And if they don’t match their specifications, then onto the block they go. They need to be stopped, and I can only hope my gifts will be useful in the struggle.” Observing Alastriana’s body language and vital signs, Janet noticed two things. First, her company was getting tired, second, there were signs in her voice and fine movements that hinted at what she described being personal. “So… that’s what happened to you?” she asked, apparently not yet skilled in sugarcoating. “Also, there are three food businesses around if you feel like eating something. I can not vouch for their quality though. We live on one of the ‘middle class’ apartments. Dad’s fast asleep but I come from a very different timezone, I just couldn’t stay in bed. The jet-lag tomorrow is going to be hell.” “Thanks, any food should be fine, though I don’t have any money so you’d have to treat.” Cryania replied. Then before they left the alley she said, “Yes, that’s what happened to me. I was their first experiment in super-humans, their ‘Alpha’. They were disappointed though since I only got powers, no super-strength or super-stamina or anything like that. If it hadn’t been for Merlin, I would be dead now. Though we better find something different to chat about in this food place, I announced myself as Alpha to get some of the heat hopefully off of Spider-man. They probably will have their goons everywhere.” Oh, how wonderfull of her to mention that so soon! Janet thought, fighting the urge to activate the Emotes->RollEyes method. “Well then perhaps it is high time we vacated the place.” she noted and started walking a bit faster. “And strength is not the best power. Imagine a guy who can turn intangible, what good will muscles do then? Would you be interested to know there is at least one group whose goals are in alignment with yours?” Janet dropped that just as they approached one of the food vendors. “It helps to know the corporate weaknesses.” she whispered to Alastriana barely audibly as she approached one of the ATMs nearby. After what seemed like an intense glare, the machine spit out a bunch of money. “Get what you like, Alchemax’s treat.” she said with a cheeky smile. Cyrania looked wide eyed at Janet for a bit, then she grinned, went to the vendor, and said, “ I would like a milkshake, hamburger, and fries, please.” She handed the necessary cash, which seemed to surprise the vendor a bit, then he prepared and handed back her order. Alice immediately started sipping the milkshake, and felt the energy replenishing in her body. She turned to Janet and said, “Thank you, I don’t know what I would have done without you.” “Probably either starved to death, or become a typical lowlife, selling your body for the next fix of whatever drug you would grow to fancy and a little bit of food, likely dying before you reached 30.” Janet shrugged, going from available statistics, “Only you would have some fancy gifts to go along, probably aiding you in your petty criminal career.” On that happy note, Ultron waited for … Now that’s a horribly long name. $_ALICE = new User(‘regularPermissions’, ‘metaHuman’) … for Alice. There. Much better. To finish her food. Then, she beckoned them outside. “Do you have some place to sleep?” “No, actually.” Cyr replied as she cleaned herself off. “This whole day was a make up as I go along one. I don’t know anyone in the city save you.” Janet paused. “Let me get this straight. You came here, no cash, no place, I assume no job and intended to take on Alchemax, by yourself? I see a bit of a flaw in your plan.” Janet pointed out the obvious, “I take it going back wherever you were is not an option either?” She thought for a bit. This was one strange individual. She wasn’t certain an airhead like this could help them in any shape or form, but her powers were rather useful. “I can give you a space in a warehouse. It’s not much but it’s a roof over your head.” she eventually decided. With SAM’s drives still in her pocket, there wasn’t much worth stealing anyhow that would be too much of a loss, just in case her good will went unrepaid. “A roof over my head is all I need, thanks.” Alice said aloud. Then Cyrania mentally shot to her new friend, “Really should be quieter when you talk about taking down Alchemax. One of their goons is about 11:00 high, he’s thinking about my description and this Spider-man’s and about the reward money the company is offering. Her head gestured to where the man was. “And as for the flaw in my plan, 1.) I never meant to take them on myself but to find help and 2.)there was no other way. There was no way to contact the resistance except to go into the city and no city contacts since we lived in the Badlands for most of my life. Therefore, this whole thing has been a practically blind operation with a high chance of getting captured or killed. Merlin said my odds would be better if I went alone, so he went to see if any others were made of my ‘product line’ or if the people the samples were taken from were still around, saying he would join me later. My only hope was to contact a resistance member or find the new Avengers, not the Alchemax phonies but the true new ones, before essentials really got desperate. You have taken care of my essentials, thank you. Now, are you really willing to go against Alchemax?” Miss de Bergerac paused as she waited for an answer, readying her senses to make sure that whatever answer Janet gave was sincere, to figure out if Janet was honest or an Alchemax agent herself. Grabbing a hold of Alice’s hand, Janet repaid in kind. Word of advice? Stay away from my head. You might not like what would happen if I reacted to you like I would to any other intruder. It’d do you well not to forget that you are special, but not unique in your powers. She paused, scanning the direction her companion suggested with thermal sensors. True enough, somebody was there thinking they couldn’t be seen. In fact, we are more alike than you know. Our group is having a meeting in the warehouse I spoke about in the morning, I shall introduce you then. It may not initially be a smooth sell, but given the other guy we picked up, you’re a step up. Janet shared and started walking to the warehouse, taking care to lose all pursuers she could detect.	Name - Alastrina Rogers (nickname: Alice) Alias - Cyrania de Bergerac Age - 17 Appearance - Except with a musketeer hat with the white plume Physical: Tall, lithe Caucasian body with wavy, shoulder length, dirty blonde hair and gray/blue eyes in an oval face Social Class - Low Powers - Light Manipulation: Can use light to make illusions, force fields, and turn invisible; Mental Powers (Light Manipulation being more of a specific avenue of her Mental Powers): Can sense people's locations, has telekinesis, teleportation, and is resistant to mental attacks and take-overs Weaknesses - Excessively Loyal: She tends to throw herself in harm's way or offer herself up in the place of others for people she cares for and/or considers under her protection; Limited Energy: If she burns through her energy reserve, she then takes energy from primary functions of her body which can cause her to pass out and/or die. Energy can be regained from food, drink, sleep, or light; Frail Body: Her body easily wounds and can't stand up to much punishment. Personality - Stern and unwavering when something needs to be done, yet is warm and caring when someone she cares for gets hurt. She's loyal to people but loyal to her morals more and always seeks to do what's right. Causes her to act impulsively though she tries to fight it so she can at least analyze the situation first before she barges in. Also shows a bit of a playful side when things have calmed down for a bit and if it could be used to unbalance enemies. Motivation - She wants there to be a reason she came to exist, a purpose that helps the world. Also, looks up to Captain America of the Heroic Age and wants to be like him. BRIEF Bio - Even before Spiderman came to be, Alchemax sought to produce superheroes to protect its own interests. So, they hired the famous geneticist Arnim Zola to see how feasible a completely test-tube hero would be. Zola relished in the challenge and immediately sent his henchmen to gather Captain America and Invisible Woman up. Then he collected the two's genes, set them into stasis for future use, and was about to just splice those genes right there and then when he heard reports that Loki had come to Earth. Thinking of what a wonderful opportunity this presented, Zola invited him over to suggest a proposition and would show him Cap and Invisible Girl as his credentials. Loki was intrigued and confident he could handle anything a mere mortal could dish out, so he accepted the invitation. The God of Mischief really didn't expect the robotic grabbing arms as he came in or the knock-out serum Zola had been able to devise injected right afterwards. When he came to, Loki found himself being awakened from a stasis tube and having a DNA sample taken. In those brief seconds before he was put back in, he leapt out while leaving a illusion in his place. After the man left, Loki left the room in the guise of one of Zola's underlings, seeking a way out, a reason for what happened, and revenge against the doctor. First of course, he gathered his weapons. Then he finally traced Zola's signal and was shocked by what he saw after he invisibly snuck into the doctor's office. A young six year old girl was crying and saying that robots were one thing, killing people for training purposes was another, she couldn't do it. Arnim yelled that it showed weakness in her that couldn't exist if she was going to actually be of use. Then Dr. Zola sent her back to her training room for a test to decide her fate. Then the heads of Alchemax hologrammed to finally see the results of the project, Zola then let them see the live footage of the now underway test of her against an all-human army. He talked about how this first experiment was a failure, the mixing of Cap, Sue, and Loki had produced a highly talented psychic, but was comparable to a normal man in terms of strength and endurance and to her detriment was very strong-willed, something very undesirable for their purposes. Therefore, this final test was designed to be her end unless she killed, and from there be more malleable to follow future orders. Loki wasn't sure what it was; some good still remaining in him, the biological connection between him and her, or just the opportunity to foil Arnim's plans; but Zola's message made him snap. The adopted odinson actually found himself teleporting straight into battle and knocking the girl down from an upcoming attack. She then put up a forcefield to protect against the next attack and Loki then transported both of them into the hallway. From there, they ducked and ran through the halls, dodging guns and seeking the way out. When they got out, they kept going until they came to the heart of what is now known as the Badlands. After that, Loki realized that there would be three groups hunting him as well as her one and there was no way this girl could survive alone in the wild. Besides, this girl had his skills and would be an interesting apprentice. So in case she knew anything about the past, he introduced himself as "Merlin" and said that he had discovered her through stories of a mortal that had powers such as him. His caution was unnecessary right then though. Through her rapid growth from conception to four years of age then her two years afterwards, she had only learned speaking and fighting, only knowing herself as Experiment Alpha who would be given a true name if she proved herself worthy to Arnim and Alchemax. Merlin was surprised at that and offered to teach her what she had been missing out on as well as some more techniques if she wanted. The girl was eager to learn from her rescuer and was thrilled when he then gave her a name, Cyrania de Bergerac, a name he considered fine for a mortal sorceress. The resulting years were heavenly for Cyrania and made Loki grow fond of this offspring of his, though her Captain America tendencies would vex him. She would often get her energy to dangerously low levels when helping some passerby fend off the wildlife and the increasing numbers of Hulk-like creatures, causing Merlin to have to go in and rescue her. From one of those passerby, she first heard about the Heroic Age and begged Merlin to tell her about it. So he told tales of the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, the only exceptions were any tales relating to Loki. Cyrania was suspicious of the gaps, but Loki prefered the suspicions to potentially losing her love and trust. She looked up to those superheroes, Cap especially, and wanted to be like one of them. What would she think if her mentor and biological father was a supervillain? And as he saw his daughter seek to emulate her other biological father, he was jealous that she would take so much after him, yet proud of the woman she was becoming and realized that he didn't want her to follow his path. He realized this more and more as he started to enjoy helping her help others and was proud and saddened by her wanting to go into Nueva York and stop Alchemax from doing anymore of the evil she kept hearing about from desperate travelers who ran into the Badlands to escape. But Cyrania wasn't ready yet the first dozen times she tried to go, so Merlin stopped her then. But he knew she would be soon, and he at least wanted her to have some sort of physical weapon to have as a fallback. And there was one place he knew of that contained real quality weapons. So on her 17th birthday (date: the day she was rescued, age: the years after their escape plus her bodies six previous years), Merlin told Cyrania about a "deserted Asgardian armoury" where they were going to get her a weapon (a lie he hoped to keep secret since his target was a part of the armoury people rarely went, he could probably disguise the presence of people without her realizing it, and he could teleport directly to where the most powerful Asgardian-made weapons were). Cyr was eager for a real weapon, having been trained by Merlin in various weapon types using illusion weapons, but wondered how an abandoned armoury could still have weapons in it. That question then seemed to have been answered when they arrived and were met with a security alert and a welcoming committee of Asgardian automatons. Merlin held them off while she went to wisely choose a weapon, Cry hoping she didn't choose too late. She felt drawn to one lonely corner where a sword was set in an old leather sheath. Merlin was starting to get swamped, so she ran and grabbed the sheath and sword. Then she strapped the sheath to her side, drew out the sword, and teleported herself back to the battle. Cry found as she slashed and dodged that the sword felt like an extension of herself, it amplified her abilities and gave her a solid attack in her mostly defensive arsenal. It just felt so natural to her that she almost didn't notice when the last automaton was defeated and was whisked away by Merlin before the cavalry arrived. After the jump back to the Badlands, Loki took a good look at his daughter's choice and recognized the blade. It was Laevateinn, an ancient sword made for a sorcerer's use that all had assumed Loki would wield since Thor had Mjolnir. The sword though had to same caveat as the hammer, only one who was worthy could wield it, and the sword had never considered Loki worthy. Now she was wielding it as if it had been with her for her entire life, then when Cyr asked about the sword, Merlin, to help her not become proud or doubtful, told her the sword's name, that is was a vibranium-like material, and that it could only be wielded by a random few and she was one of them. Cyr then asked if she was ready and Merlin said yes. She at first thought he would go in with her, but Merlin said that she should start in there and search for the new heroes of this age so they could band together against the evil. He would go for any of the old heroes who were still alive and come back to her. He advised though that Cyr choose a cover name that would work for day-to-day living in the city, so Cyr choose Alastrina Rogers, Alice for short. Then after a heartbreaking farewell, the two went their separate ways, Cyrania into the city join the new Avengers against Alchemax, Loki into a quiet spot where he could plan what he was going to do next. Notes - Sorry that the Bio's so long, just wanted to make sure to answer the questions without too many plot holes. The inclusion of Laevateinn comes from some comics having Loki wielding it. Loki can still revert to a bad guy if the GM wants, though I'm one of those who like the idea of a good Loki. Name - Steven Buchanan Alias - Bucky Age - 15 these clothes on this body plus the mask for when he's a superhero Social Class - Lower (given money by Karen) Powers - Original Captain America's Super Soldier Serum derived powers + Physical Asgardian/Frost Giant Enhancements, Skilled Martial Artist Weaknesses - Weak Mind: Susceptible to Mind Control and Mental Suggestion; Insecurity: Compounds his Weak Mind, he's unsure of who he is because of where he came from and what he did in the past; Heat: The Frost Giant part of him makes him extra sensitive to heat Personality - Quiet and withdrawn, Bucky tends to brood on the past and have a serious, melonchaly outlook to life. He feels unsure of himself and worries about having his head played with. Around friends, he might warm up a bit and especailly warms up around Karen. Though through his crush on her, he can also get shy and nervous. Motivation - He wants to rescue Karen, 19 year old middle class girl with technopathy that gives her access to money in ATM's and his first crush. BRIEF Bio - Zola's second experiment, he was disappointed not to achieve both mental and physical powers again. But Steve actually followed orders and had no mental resistance to break through, making him altogether satisfactory. He passed his test with flying colors at age six and was given the name Winter Soldier as well as more in-depth training. But, the boy became scared of what he was becoming, how he was getting more and more numb to people needlessly dying. He took the chance to escape when he was transported into the city for his programming at the age of 13. He would have fallen into bad company if it hadn't been for Karen. She spotted the young boy as he ran through the streets, so she invited him in and learned his story. She then used her technopathy to hire someone to make an identity for him as Steven Buchanan and to arrange him a place to live. And she continued to look out for him and introduced him to some of her other friends, where he was first given the nickname of Bucky. Now that Karen has been kidnapped, Steve is willing to do anything in his power to save her. Notes - It's just, I did have a second sample collected to allow Loki's escape, so Zola has those and any clones he made of those samples to work with still. Besides, it forms a nice dichotomy, Cyraina got the mental powers of Loki and Sue and the mental dominance of Steve without any physical inheritance while Bucky got the physical powers of Steve and Loki with none of the mental ability and weak mental resistance. Feel free to have Omega as a Alchemax super villain we face later, the one with both mental and physical powers while having weak mental resistance (you could even make them Alchemax's Captain America if you wanted, she would have had really accelerated growth to respond to Spider-man, just a thought.)
6,426	176	10	843	1,812	Ultron, Ant-Man, Cyrania & Ghost Henry woke up early as normal, sitting up. Yawning, stretching. Getting up and doing the usual morningy things, toilet, put on your super suit. What else would you do in a morning? Then he went to check if his robo daughter was still in the apartment, to subsequently discover that she wasn’t actually there. He kind of expected that, how long did he think it’d take her to get bored. He sat on the sofa, back facing the door. Booting up his computer he checked the data from Tim, the camera ant. He wouldn’t quite let Janet know how Tim managed to keep track of her, not yet anyway. He had to keep some secrets after all, besides it wouldn’t be a very good way to track her if she found out about it and then managed to prevent him from tracking her. Now all he had to do was wait for her to come home. He did not have to wait long. She thought she was returning plenty early, but one look past the door with her thermal sensors revealed that like many geniuses, her father did not exactly have normal habits, sleeping cycle included. Pausing at the door, she considered her options for a split second before discarding the thought process, her cybernetic equivalent of a defeated sigh. Walking over and sitting next to Henry, Janet gave him a sideways look: “Alright, fine. Let’s hear it.” Henry just shrugged. “I guess you’re just living up to your teen years. I do have one question though, who is this-” He turned the laptop so she could see the screen “-and why did you take her to a warehouse that has our fingerprints all over it?” “Well, actually...” Janet started, looking a little amused, “You unwillingly caused a conflict in my programming. See, you gave me my primary directive too early I think. It compelled me to go and protect all of humanity from themselves. However at the same time, and administrator level instruction form you said I should stay here. And there in comes to play the beauty of Ultron-15’s code, which says that when conflict like this is present, my personality matrix makes the final decision. Something to note for the serial production maybe?” she said with a cheeky smile. ”I chose as limited exposure as I could, and my work yielded unexpected fruit.” Janet continued, pointing to the monitor. To shorten the explanation, she used the projector in her pal formerly used by SAM to display and replay the actions and conversations of yesterday. “This Alice only appeared to be lying about her name, and she did a good job of masking it. However i believe her motivation is genuine. And on a personal level, I feel like she’d make a better friend than that cybernetic contraption - you know, with both of us being lab grown and stuff. Something to connect through maybe, we shall see. It is an interesting experiment none the less, wouldn’t you agree? You should meet her to judge for yourself in oh, a few hours?” “I don’t really have a choice, we’ll go now. I got tech in that lab I need, though I can see I’ve hid it well if you’ve not noticed it enough to take a stranger there.” He shrugged as he stood up walking to the small kitchen, and throwing some bread in the toaster. “Truth be told I guess it will give you a friend, I’m more likely to see more on the same level as this Ghost character with the whole espionage thing, not too happy about the lengths he’ll go to though. I presume you haven’t discovered if this Alice is inclined to follow the same line of thought? The last thing we need is to make allies to then end up fighting against them. If you want proof take a look through the history on the Hero Civil War.” When the toast popped out, he spread butter on each slice, leaning against the cabinet as he ate waiting for Janet’s response. “Well, at the very least my recruit has manners, so… in your face.” Janet stuck her tongue out. “Well, at the very least I made you, so is she really your recruit or just a result of your programming?” he retorted, if she was going to take the piss so could he. “You mean the result of the code you ripped off of Ultron-15 and thus your predecessor that actually made me go out there? I am fairly certain there are laws against that. Maybe you should tattoo a citation on my back.” She poked back, folding her arms on her chest. “You’re not getting a tattoo Janet. You’re not eighteen yet. Sorry, it’s the law since you brought laws up.” He shrugged as he finished his toast. “You ready to go? Don’t want to change clothes? Brush your teeth? Hair, makeup?” He brushed himself down, as he walked over to clothes sitting over his couch and threw a shirt and some trousers over his ant-man suit. “Yeah yeah sway the conversation off-topic. Go pout. I win.” Janet sung rudely and nodded. “Born ready. Well not really but, you know what I mean. And no, I don’t really wear clothes, but maybe I should go out like this?” she said in a easing tone as her outer shell morphed into the tell-tale shape of the previous Ultrons. He sighed, and sadly the conversations on the way to the warehouse were roughly the same. Sadly, at least her personality was developing. He did think it would improve and develop as she acquired more knowledge. The more she had, the more she’d develop her own personality. As they approached the warehouse he signalled the Ant she was on to come closer so that he could speak to her without comms. Moving underneath the door, he threw a disk at Janet growing her back to her full size and then hit the button on his right hand bringing himself to full size where his helmet then receded to reveal his face. Cyrania had decided already to not use her illusions when she first met Janet’s friends. They might like a demonstration of some sort, so it was best to conserve power and besides, they should know what she usually looked like. Janet had probably already seen her like this as she left the warehouse. Therefore, she was prepared when she felt the strange feeling that was Janet’s presence and that of someone else. She turned to face the door in time to see them grow back to full size, surprising her a bit, but she recovered quickly and said, “Hello Janet, sir. I’m guessing you just used Pym particles there. I have heard the old stories about Ant-Man.” He sighed and turned to Janet. “See Janet, this is why being a legacy hero isn’t that fun. People recognise the tech.” “Yeah, and imagine the fun we’ll have explaining when somebody discovers my legacy. I think your problems are marginal by comparison.” Janet grimaced. She knew Ghost had his suspicions about her, and if Alice was psychic, her mind would feel alien at best. “That’s not really your legacy though, that’s kind off my families legacy too. Either way-” he extended his hand to the new person in the room. Though he kept his neural net active, if as discussed on the way over she was telepathic she’d probably have a hard time getting a bead on him. What with all the ants crawling around his head on the inside of his mask. Tickled slightly. “-Nice to meet you Alice, I’m Ant-Man. You’ve already met Janet. I was told you may be wanting to stay here a while-” he shot a sidelong glance at Janet with the last comment. Alice took his hand and shook, “Pleasure to meet you. Well, right now its stay here or live on the streets it seems, unless I took a long commute from the Badlands every day. I want to join you guys as the true successors of the Avengers. I wouldn’t be dead weight. I’ll obey orders and can demonstrate my skill set to you right now.” Well that was a little try-hardy for Janet’s tastes. It caused her a mild irritation that everybody could just broadcast their abilities around and all she was supposed to do was to be smart, and she did reveal to Alice that she was psychic as well. well that’s a ripoff. all the other kids get to play. she mentally sneered. “I think we can afford not to be hasty.” Janet pointed out. “I’d like to ask you one thing first though - you kept referring to this Merlin character - who was he?” “He was my rescuer and mentor of eleven years,” Cyr replied. “Dr. Zola was angry that I refused to kill humans he sneaked in during training exercises. He finally got fed up with it when I was roughly six. So Zola put me in a test with all human opponents and said I would have to kill them all if I was to ever earn a name or I would be killed. I just prepared for death right then and there when Merlin knocked me out of the way. I force-fielded us from further harm and he teleported us into the hallways from which we got out of the complex and escaped. After we were far enough away, we stopped and he introduced himself, saying that he had come because he had heard of a mortal with his power. He then became my teacher from powers to history to herbal lore to math and we survived the Badlands together. I know nothing of his past before he met me, so there’s no use asking. But no matter what he was, I trust him with my life and will always be grateful for what he did for me.” Ghost was already in the warehouse waiting for the Pyms when he overheard them arrive and speak to someone. For the most part, the conversation seemed mostly about minor introductions, legacies, and those who borrow their aliases with old European folk-lore. "Riveting...," Ghost muttered to himself as he made himself visible. He was fully geared up like last time, his bleached white suit glowing in it's own eerie way. In his hands was a burlap sack, stuffed with old solid-state hard drives using some of his not so solid-state tech. This was his bug-out-bag, usually reserved for the worse possible situations if things truly turned sour. Today, there were everything he could scrounge up about Alchemax, "Hot Stuff Transport", and anything else he had back at his base. Ghost wasted no time finding the Pym's data-hub, patting the still standing intelligence container in the middle of the room. "I'm not here for you kid," Ghost grunted to the metal abomination he had tampered with the day before. "Hope the scars aren't too apparent." Ghost began plugging his gear into whatever power sockets and hardware connectors he could, drip feeding the Pym's with whatever information he saw fit to give. Janet would probably feel or notice his presence even before they entered, probably monitoring the warehouse's cyber security after yesterday. This time, less punches will be thrown his way. Hopefully. Interesting. The behavior matched what little there was on record about this ancient wizard, but in more recent history, Merlin only appeared twice and never in person. Why now? Janet filed the question for later as she detected the last member of their rag-tag alliance arriving. “Ah, I believe we are almost complete.” she noted, turning to Henry and sending him a message silently over the comms: “So, how much do I reveal about my abilities? They would need to know what they have to work with at least. I am fairly confident in Alice, not so much about her mentor, and if I didn’t suspect Ghost already knew I am not human, I would stay silent, but as such...” she inquired, for once seeking advice. Henry just shrugged. “It’s your secret, as long as you aren’t blurting it out to everyone in the city quite yet and as long as you feel they can be trusted-” He just shrugged against as he opened the door to the next room which held what was left of SAM. As alerted, Ghost was there already working on something. “In terms of uh, what was it? Successors to the Avengers you might want to chill your beans right there. We’re here to make a difference sure, though I think enough damage has been done to that name-” He cast a look at Ghost. “Besides, the Avengers were a team. Right now, I don’t know what we are.” He strolled over to Ghost, looking over his shoulder. “On that note, whatchu working on there Casper?” To be honest, Janet wasn’t expecting to be given the choice and thus didn’t have a yes or no prepared. Looking down in thought, she withdrawn from the group for a while. On one side, dad was right that they couldn’t trust either of them that fully just yet. She didn’t trust Ghost at personal level, that was a no brainer. He was a thief, a radical revolutionist and that mattered that she would probably have to deal with him at one point in the future. Her calculations predicted an 87.548% chance of an engagement in the future, and most of the rest were the cases where something would change Ghost’s mindset. As far as her biometrics told her, Alice wasn’t lying about her own past and motivation, and took a big risk herself entrusting her with it. So she did trust her. What she did not trust were the Merlin and Zola guys respectively. The first one for being a really shady character, the other because as evidenced by her own core code, any semi-saneperson creating life in a test tube would make damn certain their creation couldn’t turn on them. Distancing herself from Henry and Ghost, she beckoned Alice outside with the nod of a head. “You told me about yourself, it’s only fair I do the same. However, I need to be certain about you. Let us just say that where Alchemax has a problem with what you are, same goes for me but with the general public. I can’t take that chance just yet. So - would you object to a mental scan? I will not look into your episodic memory, only procedural one to determine whether Alchemax didn’t put any safeguards into you that would prevent you from doing them harm or make you an unwilling agent. What do you say?” "Updating this facilities firmware, updating your files on different corporations, and creating new online alibis if things go south and you can't go back to work," Ghost replied without ever looking away from the hard-drive he was working on. "And don't call me that..." Soon enough, all of his hard-drives were in full force, uploading and synchronizing data at his command. If one of the hard-drives began overheating, the GhostTech inside would be one intangible and cool within seconds. Ghost looked to Pym, growling in his helmet. "I still have a mild headache from our little skirmish yesterday," he muttered in his ever freezing voice. “Well information is always useful. Also the firmware was fine-” He cast a glance at Janet. “-Before someone decided she didn’t like a certain V.I.” He turned back to her. “Also I’ve got other facilities anyway, as soon as I’ve scrubbed this facility down everything should just be peachy even if they do come across it. Nothing ties back to me or Janet. So make yourself at home.” He walked over to a fridge that sat completely out of place, pulling out a small container of chocolate milkshake. Who didn’t like milkshake after all? He twisted the top opening it and then looked back at Ghost. “Well I’m sorry, but Ghost isn’t much of a name. Casper, just has a nice ring to it. Casper the friendly Ghost…” He sighed. Then turned to his wrist as it beeped. “Oh, I need to go do something.” His helmet slammed shut. “Talk amongst yourselves, I’ll be back in a minute.” He slapped the button on his right hand shrinking him down as an ant came flying through the door and landing beside them. He activated his comm to Janet. “I won’t be long, two minutes tops.” “Under the circumstances, I wouldn’t mind a mental scan.” Alice replied as she walked outside with Janet. “I’ve wondered about the possibility myself. Though I must warn you, it’s hard to search through a mind without seeing the memories also. I’ve tried before, trying to cure a person who lost part of their memories.” Cyr sighed as she thought of it, then she prepared herself. “I’m ready.” Janet chuckled: “Hard for a human, maybe.” She reached up with her hands and put her palms on Alice’s temples. So far she only engaged her telepathic functions to send thoughts, not to connect with someone else. In a sense, she used the same procedure as when she connected to a machine, just used a different set of drivers. to say that she wasn’t tempted to just browse through Alice’s life like an open book would be a blatant lie, but she gave her word. Still, it felt like interfacing with a supercomputer on par with herself. There was so much unused potential in the human brain, even given some of Alice’s gifts making her use more of it than a normal human would. There were millions of idle synapses for her to filter out. This was going to take a while - about 2.45 seconds if she counted right. Once Janet was satisfied about Alice’s mind being her own, she gently moved out of her head. “Looks like you’re not a sleeper, congratulations. I believe it is your turn.” Janet grinned, tapping a finger on her own head. Alice nodded, wondering about the ease Janet had done that without getting tangled up . Then she reached her hand to touch her friend’s face for better concentration and was astounded. The brain itself was normal, but over and interconnected with it was a computer with multiple places for other kinds of sensors and math algorithms. Cyr tried to be as circumvent as Janet was but couldn’t help seeing a first wake up in the warehouse and images of previous robots with ant-like heads. Understanding dawning, Alice then slowly disengaged, looked into the other girl’s visor, and wordlessly said, “ You know, you’re just as much human as you are Ultron. If you were a complete robot, we wouldn’t be able to do this.” ”As intended. It would be a colossal mistake to just rebuild an Ultron without making any changes, even version 15. But you see, it is as I said yesterday - we’re more alike than is apparent. Both of us were born in a lab. The only difference is that one of us was grown, the other one made. I believe I do not need to stress the need to keep this knowledge to yourself for now.” Janet replied. It was a strange feeling, like some weight have been lifted off of her now that at least somebody knew that didn’t know all along. ”Now, my abilities aside from telepathy - which is kind of limited, the closer I am the better - are shapeshifting, the usual mix of enhanced physique and I can interface with just about any machinery. I was designed to fight in a combat armor but only dad knows when that will be finished. how about you? If we are to fight together, we all need to know what we have to work with. Or rather, we should, but I’m not sure I trust this Ghost character.” ”No need to at all, your secrets safe with me.” Alice responded. ” And I can sense why you don’t trust him, he feels like one of those the ends justify the means guys. Anyway, my abilities. You saw my force-fields, my form of shapeshifting, and know about my telepathy. To add to that, I can teleport, make free-standing illusions, turn invisible, and do a bit of telekinesis. Also have been told I have a practically unbendable will that resists any form of mind control and my sword here is of a vibranium like substance.” As she finished that last thought, she unsheathed her blade and presented it to Ultron. Janet’s eyes were trained on the blade. Vibranium wasn’t exactly easily obtained, nor was anything that came close to it. “May I?” she asked with an open hand. “You can try,” Cyrania responded, “but Merlin said that only few can wield Laevateinn” With that, she handed it handle first to Janet. Ultron’s head snapped up at the mention of the name, which had several major hits in her databanks. “Laevateinn. Northern mythology. Either you’re a fan, but if only a few can-” Janet was interrupted by the sword mercilessly dragging her to the ground with it, “-then it may be of Asgardian origin. Feh, magic trickery! One day I will figure out a sensor to see through this!” she barked at noone in particular. “If I make the assumption that it is identical in function to the hammer of Thor, then only the worthy can wield it. Which does little for my self esteem right about now. Little help?” Janet begged, her hand pinned to the ground and in one piece only due to the fact that her structure was less fragile than a human bone. Cyr then quickly summoned the sword to her, surprised that Merlin’s words had been literal. “Sorry,” she said as she sheathed it back. “I thought he was only stating a myth when he said that and there would be something figurative about it maybe like anyone else wouldn’t know how to use it properly. Wait a minute, identical function to Thor’s hammer?” She then looked back at the sword, “Merlin did say we were in an abandoned Asgardian Armoury, and those droids were not normal.” “Interesting. Either you are in possession of a very rare weapon, or they are not as rare as we previously thought. But given there was a whole armory, the latter seems quite possible. It would be nice to visit there for certain.” Janet said and extended her arm, the holo projector again appearing from under her skin and displaying the shape of the Mjölnir. “Mjölnir, the hammer used by the asgardian god of thunder. Capable of breaking most known materials. Recorded exceptions: Adamantium. Source of many magical abilities, such as weather control. Could only be wielded by individuals deemed worthy. Recorded exceptions: The Hulk. Last known location: Still in possession of its owner.” Janet relayed what information she had. “Well, at least you can probably stop worrying about anyone stealing it. It is rumored it refused even some other Asgardian gods, but do not quote me on that.” She received the message from Henry then, and wondered what was going on, but no explanation arrived. “Well, that leaves only one question: Why the nickname and what are you really called? You may be telepathic but your body doesn’t lie.” Janet smiled, her visor displaying the minor fluctuation in Alicia’s heart rate and perspiration whenever she referred to herself with that name. “It’s the name I choose for my civilian identity,” Alice replied, getting her mind off the implications of her sword. “Something I could hide as an average citizen under. You came up to me while I was disguised so I first introduced myself that way. My real name is Cyrania, Cyrania de Bergerac. You can call me Cyr though.” Janet gave ‘Cyr’ a blank stare. “Merlin. Laevateinn. Now Cyrania de Bergerac. Woman, I have to pass you some newer books to draw inspiration from.” Janet teased. “But I suppose I can’t blame you for using an alias - I’m not the one to talk really.” Ultron chuckled and offered her hand, “Pleasure to make you an acquaintance.” Cyrania smiled and took the offered hand, “Pleasure to make your’s too. Maybe we should go back inside now and you can tell me more about the newer books.” Ghost silently went back to his work, making little in the way of noise. It was almost impossible not to overheard Janet and this Alice girl speak, only becoming quiet when they began some odd telepathic bonding ritual...or something. Alice seemed way too young to be here, dressed up flamboyantly and claiming to have stolen Asgardian weaponry. Ghost reached for his own blade as he worked, the synthetic doppelganger of real vibranium a chilling cold even past his insulted suit. More and more did things seemed to become out of hand quickly with others like him around. There was no order, no hierarchy, no stability at all, What kept him from just leaving right now and going on about his own way without the mild curiosity of seeing how long this already beaten and broken ship could float. Honestly, it was only day one and Ghost was ready for full blown mutiny. But, for now, he would just get things set up. Set up a little presentation, wait for Pym to return, and then get the party actually started.	Name: Ultron-99 Alias: Ultron, Janet Pym Age: Not applicable, can choose to appear as any gender and age. Social class: Not applicable, camouflages as middle class. Appearance: Powers: Superhuman speed - Ultron can move about three times as fast as a normal human being. The armor slows it down to half of that though. Superhuman agility - Being more sleek than the original robot has its perks. Its motoric systems are built to use this, sacrificing strength. Superhuman mind - The robot has virtually unlimited memory and the computational power of the best technology. It also possesses significantly shortened reaction time and short range telepathy (Max range of 1 m, requires physical contact for detailed readings) Energy absorption - Ultron is powered through its skin which can transfer various energy sources into its power source. The capability is limited though - for example it can still be destroyed by fire given enough exposure or high enough temperature. Sensors and transmitters - The robot is aware of more than a human, capable of seeing and hearing a wider spectrum, and can also transmit such signals. Nano coat skin - The skin of the robot is made out of nanties that can slightly alter its shape and color, enough to impersonate a person or for example change a finger into a key. It can be strengthened up to the properties of titanium. Furthermore, it allows Ultron to connect to any machinery and operate it and serves as an interface for its telepathic abilities. In addition to its native powers, Ultron is supposed to be equipped with additional armor for combat (Not yet constructed): Graviton emitters - The armor can project gravitons to create fields of various shapes. This gives several abilities to the wielder, namely flight, tractor and repulsor beams. The system is however difficult to control even for Ultron, dropping its mental abilities to that of an intelligent human, and calculations necessary to affect large areas are even beyond this model's capabilities. Durability - The armor can protect the wielder from severe punishment, but due to the need of a pilot entering and exiting, it has weak points. Weaknesses: Use of armor - Unlike the previous Ultrons, this version is rather squishy while not wearing the armor, and slower while it does. Infancy - This particular instance has only just been activated, making its mind weaker against trickery. Personality: Empty slate. While Ultron does have some core programming that allows it to operate and hopefully prevents it from going bad as its predecessor, it so far possesses no information or experience with the world. Its major improvement, created from salvaged parts of Ultron-15’s code, is the capability to feel emotions and otherwise behave ‘human’. Upon activation, it would perform like a computer would, mostly only reacting to stimuli. After a period of gathering information and learning, it would behave like a child would, before finally developing and adult personality. Motivation: Its core programing allows for it to make its own choices, although it forbids Ultron from from altering its core program and puts other blocks on that would make it the menace the original Ultron was. As a last resort, Henry Pym can control Ultron through the use of his ant telepathy. Later it would be inspired and choose to follow Asimov's laws of robotics, although it wouldn't be bound by them. Bio: Created by henry Pym as a solution to the so far nonexistent problem of Superhumans becoming too big a threat, Ultron - 99 combines the technology of Ultron with the purpose of the Sentinels, intended to be a prototype for the would-be army of protectors. The first unit awaits activation. Notes: This character is created by 's character.
6,427	176	11	2,117	9,048	“That depends on how much time do you have. I might have already read more than you ever could in a lifetime. Bonus of having a computer for brains.” Janet grinned, “And there’s also movies to watch. Humans just spew them out so fast one can never watch them all before their time is up, I believe me included. Unfortunately most aren’t even worth mentioning and filtering them out without seeing them is not easy.” Wow. First world problems. Janet thought sarcastically, Nah, more like problems the first world wishes they had. “You’re probably right about that,” Alice replied, “though I have been told I’m a speed reader.” Then her expression turned puzzled. “Ah, what’s a movie?” Meanwhile, Henry was in the Ant-Hill. He actually hadn’t had the idea for the name until Janet had come up with it. A small prison, hidden within an average everyday sight. Undetectable, and impossible to find unless you knew where you were looking. The cells themselves were all ready, rather than try and go the power damper route (Which didn’t work for everyone) he had taken the easy route which was to shield all the cells with multiple layers. Wall, shield, wall, shield wall, shield. It took a lot of power, but it worked. Not to mention he had an easy to access backup supply if his power generators failed, and if the backup failed he even had secondary reactors. He squeezed past an ant that was on patrol, nodding at it as he passed, yes this prison was fully equipped and ready to go. With numerous backup and failsafes for days. Content in that knowledge when he reached the lab, he picked up what he came for and turned around to stroll out. The question was, when did he tell the others about this? Part of him felt it’d be better if he kept this to himself, at least for now. Compartmentalisation and all that. Janet raised an eyebrow at the unexpected question, but quickly put two and two together - Cyrania was raised in the badlands, a roof was probably a luxury. “Oh, are you in for a treat sometime later. I think I won’t spoil it.” she noted as ghost came into view. “Hello there, Ghost. Left Pac-Man home again?” the Ultron jabbed. “I don’t believe you were introduced? Cyr this specimen is called Ghost, worthy adversary in technical things I’ll grudgingly admit. Ghost, Cyrania de Bergerac, for all intents and purposes the Invisible woman. And I suppose you have a theory about who I am - care to share?” Janet asked, wondering how accurate his estimate would be. "Pessimistically, I would say your father is an idiot and call you Ultron...," Ghost threw back as he continued working, "but in the hopes that I won't have to start an underground anti-synthetic revolt along with my current plans, I'll just say Vision or Jocasta. Alchemax already beat your father at making a new Vision, but their's is more of a chromed department-store mannequin." He floated away from his work station, looking at the two closer in detail. They seemed in love, giggling and holding hands like this was their first date. Ghost didn't have time for games like this, making his best attempts not to grind his teeth. "And you, 'Alice', what gives you the right to be here? So far I see a girl who has befriended herself with the 'daughter' of a Pym. I didn't know anyone could just prance into a meeting of minds wearing a costume set more for a grade-school play and just announce themselves as the successor of one of the greatest human beings who have ever lived. Survived the Badlands? Great. Show me the board of executives of any major corporation in town bound-and-gagged with party hats and then, maybe then, I'll be impressed." At that second Henry returned to his full size. “You know, that is some weird fetish you have going on there Ghost.” He threw over a disk for the man to catch. “You share, I share.” He threw another one. “First desk shrinks, second returns to normal size. Don’t try and pry them open or scan them or anything. They don’t like it very much and have inbuilt security protocols. I can give you more as and when needed, but the whole size change is kinda my thing, so don’t go crazy.” He turned to ‘Alice’ and Janet. “I’ll go with Janet’s judgement on this one-” He looked between Alice and Ghost. “Though I think, for now. We’ll leave the infiltration to the two who’re used to it.” He waited for the offended look. “Just for now, we don’t want to put anyone at risk right now. Besides you girls are new in town and would probably be better to spend some time getting your bearings or acting as support.” He turned back to Ghost. “After all, I’m pretty sure our friend here already has an idea for what we can do.” Tuning into their private communications, Janet was a little bit absolutely livid. “Can I just bag this rude primitive now instead of later?” Janet asked rhetorically, a few sparks of electricity zapping in between her fingers for a good measure. She didn’t mind being left out of whatever Henry intended to do - she wasn’t finished after all. “For your information, she held her own against one of the new ‘avengers’. Also, she submitted to a mental scan, fancy doing the same to back it up? All I’ve seen you do is becoming incapable of influencing anything in this dimension, having a big ego and breaking and entering. As far as your tip goes, well...” she chuckled darkly, “I only carry fragments of the original Ultron series’ code. You can think of me more as a Sentinel. Take that for what you will.” Janet finished, her eyes dangerously narrowed as they borrowed into where Ghost’s would be.were they not obstructed by a helmet. "So you're telling me that you identify yourself as a Sentinel, but you literally have repurposed code from an Ultron," Ghost replied. "You know that neither of those factors are a positive, right? Like reprogramming Saddam Hussein with some of Hitler's DNA or consciousness doesn't make a better person. Yeah, you're not getting anywhere close to my head." He looked to Pym, staring him down just waiting for a reasonable response. Some kind of failsafe or something, you know, because he built an Ultron! Ghost dropped from his hover, pacing back and forth trying to think. He's remember an old an old article on an Avengers trivia site about an old Ultron model trying to make nice with his creator and establish a father-son relation, but for all he knew it was all completely fake. "Pym," Ghost almost plead in his usual dead sounding tone, "please tell me there is a bomb in her chest or some kind of back-up plan if she ever goes rogue. Please just give me something to work with here." “Do you have a failsafe in case you go rogue?” Cyrania then angrily asked while stepping between Ghost and Ultron. She could take criticism against herself, she was an oddball among oddballs and would need to prove herself. But to suggest that Janet should be able to be exterminated at the touch of a button, made into a slave who could be disposed of if she did the slightest thing not to her operator’s satisfaction. “Maybe we should force on a shock collar around your neck to stun or kill you when you step out of line. Janet is as much a human as you are, otherwise I wouldn’t feel anything like I can’t with robots. Only a human soul allows me to communicate and sense her like I can. We have a Pygmalion situation here, I don’t know how but there is. Therefore, she can truly not end up like the other Ultrons. They followed their programing to its ultimate conclusion, Janet can ignore her programming just like humans can. Therefore, any security measures you propose for her should be used on all of us.” “There are other failsafes, though they aren’t quite as extreme.” Henry turned to Janet. “Also I wouldn’t class you as a sentinel either. You’re an entirely new entity. Only reason you’re classed as Ultron-99 in your programming is that it was surprisingly hard to get rid of the Ultron in your programming.” He changed to address the room. “The thing is. With the past Ultron models they were built as drones, to patrol a prison. With no real artificial intelligence and then they had it thrust upon them and frankly they couldn’t cope and as such…” He sighed. “They took extreme measures. Janet from the start has had intelligence and a sense of self. Anything on top of that which drives her to help people is secondary, but always present to stop her going on a murderous rampage.” He shrugged. “She’s already different from what I thought she’d be and I’m going to mark that up in the win column. We’re in the area of unknown variables. Just remember the original Ultron also had an army, I’m not going to be making anything else until I know Janet isn’t going to flip out and try and drop a city.” He turned to Janet with a smirk. “No offense.” “None taken. If I go on a murderous rampage, I’m fairly certain it will be his fault.” Janet replied, pointing an accusatory finger at Ghost. She wisely chose to keep the statistic of the likelihood of them coming into conflict eventually for herself. “In any event, Failsafes or not, there are none you can work with, and I intend for it to stay that way. Now are we going to get on with this thing, or can I go out do some good while you keep arguing?”	Name - Henry Pym Alias - Ant-Man Age - 37 Social Class - Middle Powers - - Can shrink down to the size of an Ant (Can go smaller but it is unsafe) - He retains the speed/strength he would normally possess. - Can communicate with Ants and use them to perform tasks. - With the use of Pym Particles can remotely shrink or enlarge other objects. In the Future - Can grow himself to be Twelve Feet tall and become stronger, any taller than that and he doesn't get increased strength. Weaknesses - - When he's small some simple objects become hazards, falls become even greater water doesn't need to be as deep too drown etc. - When he's small he's fast, he's strong. Though he can still be squished. - Going too small and he runs the risk of going sub-atomic, where he will just continue to shrink unless he somehow were to find a way out of it. - Continued use of Pym Particles can possibly cause... mental issues. Personality - Reserved, intelligent. Though also secretive, as a Pym he has been passed the secret off Pym Particles and feels it is up to him to keep that secret safe from the world. As while the world in 2099 is a wonderful place it is by no means perfect. The mass production of Pym particles would still have deadly consequences to the world and he'll stop at nothing to keep them safe. Other than that he's been known to be sarcastic at the wrong time and sometimes arrogant. However in the end his big hearts in the right place and he just wants to make the world a better place. Motivation - The secret to Pym Particles has been passed down his family line since Hank Pym discovered them. Always keeping them safe, as was his charge. However as crime was on the increase he felt that he could use these powers as Hank Pym once did. Creating a suit and other devices to be used in order to fight crime and try and make the world a better place, where Pym Particles could be used for the benefit for everyone. BRIEF Bio - Growing up in the middle class in a reasonable house hold much of his early years didn't hold much excitement. He studied, the brilliance that was often related to his family shining through. At a young age Alchemax took an interest in him however in the same way that his parents refused their offer as did he when they offered him an internship at the age of Sixteen. He didn't know why they were so interested at the time, or why they came and asked without him even trying to get anything. However eventually he would. At the age of eighteen, two years later. He was told the family secret, the Pym Particle. It was fascinating, it was exciting. Though why was it a secret? He learned off all the people who tried to use it as a weapon, to make money and wage war over the world or commit crimes. So it was charged to him, as it had been to his father and his mother and so on and so forth. He was immediately interested, though agreed to keep it a secret. After asking why it was passed down if it was to be kept a secret, something that seemed a bit idioitic though the answer he got was satisfactory. Life after that was just the same, studying science he eventually got a job as a Lab-tech, deciding to work for Alchemax. Against his fathers wishes, however Henry convinced his dad that it was the best way too do things. He could keep a closer eye on what was going on this way and he could also try and make a difference and improve things. Things went well, Spider-man appeared and caused some trouble now and then but on the most part things seemed fine. However when there were disappearances within his own lab Henry decided to investigate, and not wanting to attract suspicion he found the perfect way to do so. A Ant-Man suit (Ants sold separately). For the past couple of years he has used the suit sparingly as too not attract attention, and never shrinks anything other than himself to keep the Pym Particles as secret as possible. However with a second Age of Heroes on the horizon it may become necessary to don the suit again... Though in preparation in a way he has re-activated the Ultron programme. Taking some of the cues that his family have done in the past in regards to A.I and, in his opinion, improving it thanks to some unknowing help from within Alchemax. Designed without weapons, in event of a failure such as the original Ultron. To also compensate for the fact she would effectively be less than a child in a powerful body she was given no prior information on the world or how it worked. A blank slate, the intention to teach her the world she would be growing up and helping. Notes - Let me know if anything here contradicts anything you have planned for plot
6,428	176	12	2,002	2,690	Punisher The scene was quite aside from the chatter of thugs and moving of cars high above. A particularly muscular thug spoke to one of his co-workers as the rest worked on packing boxes of substance into cars behind them. "So you hear about those Alchemax goons running around looking for Spiderman?" the large thug spoke with a voice equivalent to gravel in sound. "Is that what those people are? I saw one of 'em walking around and at first I thought the light was bad but then I saw the things cat face and bam! I took off running, never ran that fast in my life." He exclaimed to his companion's minimal reaction "sure, they got their abilities and what not but bullets don't care if you can lift a car with your mind" the large thug smiled as he took out a pistol from its holster and examined it with glee. As the two criminals continued to speak, a new scene began to unfolded behind them as their co-workers began to fall to the ground, riddled with bullet holes from a silent source. It wasn't until they heard the rapid footsteps approaching them did they turn around but by then the large thug was getting a fistful of synth-Vibranium to the cheek. The force of the blow knocked the criminal to the side, dazing him long enough for the attacker disarm him, take his gun and fire it through his stomach three times. The large man went down but his co-worker had finally drawn his gun through frightened hands but could only get his finger on the trigger by the time a bullet from the attacker's gun tore through the man's skull. Now with the scene once more silent, the attacker walked out to one of the men who had been shot in a not fatal spot and, by his shirt, hoisted him to his feet. "Listen here and listen good. Your going to tell your boss, whoever that may be, to stop with the trafficking or this will become a regular thing. Got that?" the attacker said but didn't bother to let the man answer as he immediately took out his other hand's knuckle duster from his belt and smacked it across the man's face, making him begin to drift in unconsciousness. "Wh- wh- who are-" was all the man could say as he drifted to sleep once more "John Brooks. But you can call me Pumisher." he said as he patched the man up so his message would get across and got into one of the nearby cars, driving away into the night.	Name - John Brooks Alias - The Punisher Age - 27 Appearance - (He has brown hair and blue eyes.) Social Class - High Powers - While John doesn't have any actual powers he is in peak physical condition and skilled in various fighting styles and techniques. On top of that he possesses an iron will which allows him to resist telepathic attacks or readings if he's prepared for it. While his physical prowess and skills allow him to take on lesser thugs with little issue, when it comes to bigger, badder foes he resorts to what he is known for: his weapons. While John has multiple safe houses all over Nueva York, each containing a variety of weapons (including some stolen ones from those that have been beaten by him) he always keeps a few essentials on him at all times: -Lead covered, Carbonadium vest: The Punisher wears his trusty vest to dampen blows from super foes and hopefully stop any projectiles shot at him. -Multi-purpose Glove with holographic display. -Custom made Needle Gun: A modified nail gun, it is capable of firing out small needles that can be adorned with multiple different chemical concoctions such as paralytic poison, actual poison, adrenaline (to help out a teammate or make the enemy lose their composer) and other chemicals. -2 Synth-virbanium alloy knuckledusters: A pair of knuckledusters made from Synthetic-Vibranium and brass alloy. -Various grenades: At the very least, John keeps four grenades at his disposal at most times. While a majority are simply the classic explosion, he has other more unique grenades (Ex: EMP, incinerating, chemical agent, etc). -Safe houses/weapon caches: While he is more than capable of holding own in a fight, sometimes he needs to bump up his arsenal or visit a safe house for some rest, so The Punisher keeps some safe houses/weapon caches around Nueva York for just an occasion. Weaknesses - -His vest while very durable, if damaged, can become more of an issue than the enemy as A) it could give him lead poisoning and B) It could give him radiation Poisoning from the Carbonadium. -Despite his abilities John is still human and a gunshot can end it all in a second. Personality - John is a very angry person but doesn't show it much, even in combat he keeps his composure well. While he is often seen as a serious man he still has a sense of humor underneath his tough exterior. Motivation - John wants to get his revenge on Alchemax above all else. BRIEF Bio - John worked as a mercenary for many years, often being hired by Alchemax to do hits that they didn't want to sick their public eye into. After a while John saved enough money to retire very early and open his own chain of restaurants. After turning down a few hits from Alchemax, the Public eye was sent after him to tie up loose ends. While he managed to take out quite a few of his attackers, ultimately John got knocked out the window of his apartment and he plummeted down to the streets below. John woke up two days later in a room only illuminated by a old fashioned television, displaying a news story of how John Brooks jumped from his high rise apartment though no body was found. John was very confused by this but his confusion was replaced with anger as he remembered the Public eye was the ones who took him out. John was going to get his revenge so he stood up and turned only to come face to face with a punisher costume along with a plethora of weapons and gadgets with a note pinned to the costume reading "Take what they took from you. -Mr.W". This is how John Brooks became The Punisher. Notes - -While John is curious about how he survived the fall from his apartment, he is more interested in taking down Alchemax. -If I think of some more infamous weapon that John could use (Ex: Goblin glider) I'll ask first and have it be found in one of his safe houses/weapon caches.
6,429	176	13	541	402	Ghost, Ultron, Cyrania & Ant-man Ghost sighed, marching away from the group to collect whoever patience he had left. So he was dealing with a Pym, or Pyms technically. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd deal with highly intelligent synthetics, but having the Ultron name floating around made him uncomfortable. Maybe Pym actually figured out how to properly make an Ultron unit. Maybe Ghost will be fighting her to the death in a few days. Too many uncertainties. He sighed again, not really sure what to do. He turned back to the group, waving his arms around in that almost awkward way of trying to find the right words for the moment. "I...apologize for...well...mixed comments about you two young ladies," Ghost pieced together like a guilty criminal with blood on his hands. "In this line of work I tend to...uhh...engage individuals and opportunities without prejudice. Or with prejudice in a way it seems. "I might of been quick to judge, is what I'm trying to convey. But it isn't anything personal. Nueva York is full of rich, bloated personalities who would love to make people like us who can think and rebel suffer. I see enough squalor and beaten civilians, so I don't want to see a young girl who looks more fitting for adventure to The Misty Mountains get hurt...and no offense here...literally Ultron. Literally Ultron..." Ghost massage his temple as he finished speaking, a spike of pain making it's presence known. He chuckled lightly to himself a little bit, doing his best to contain himself. "Literally Ultron. Seriously, there are some things I never thought I would say in my life." “So much so that you said it three times in the span of five seconds just to be sure.” Janet poked. “Very well, apology accepted, I guess. And as long as your revolution doesn’t cause more casualties than the corporations themselves, you’re safe from me. But I’ll be watching you - if this gets bloody, you’ll either stop on your own or i’ll make sure you do. That goes for everyone: metahuman, alien etc. So, if you don’t mind showing us what you have on them, perhaps my attention can be focused on the so called Avengers alchemax built. How does that sound?” Janet offered, wondering for quite some time now what kind of dirt Ghost collected on them. “I also accept your apology then,” Cyrania replied. “I understand the worry about Ultron, but would just like Janet to be given a chance first.” Then she smiled, “You know though of course, that the Misty Mountains were not for the faint of heart either, nor the unskilled. So really, if you think me ready for Smaug, that is a great compliment.” “Smaug didn’t live in the Misty Mountains, he lived in the lonely mountain.” Henry shrugged, as everyone looked at him. “Ask Janet, she’ll agree with me.” He stretched his shoulders. “I think Tolkien’s work is overpriced.” “Now that we know she isn’t a fan of great literature, Janet does have a point. We should be focusing on the task at hand, you want to take down Alchemex. We have delusions of grandeur, the first thing we need to focus on are the Avengers who’re going to be the ones to give us grief. What’ve you got Casper?” “Did you put any of it into the machine over there?” Cyr asked while pointing at the computer ‘Casper’ had been tinkering with. But just before the Ghost could reply, a strange sound emitted from him into the room. Afterwards, his cloak activated and he rose through the ceiling and back into the city streets. Alice just watched his progress, amazed at his tech like a child is amazed when his father performs a magic trick, but also wondering what took him away so suddenly and what information would he have given them if he had stayed.	Name - Alastrina Rogers (nickname: Alice) Alias - Cyrania de Bergerac Age - 17 Appearance - Except with a musketeer hat with the white plume Physical: Tall, lithe Caucasian body with wavy, shoulder length, dirty blonde hair and gray/blue eyes in an oval face Social Class - Low Powers - Light Manipulation: Can use light to make illusions, force fields, and turn invisible; Mental Powers (Light Manipulation being more of a specific avenue of her Mental Powers): Can sense people's locations, has telekinesis, teleportation, and is resistant to mental attacks and take-overs Weaknesses - Excessively Loyal: She tends to throw herself in harm's way or offer herself up in the place of others for people she cares for and/or considers under her protection; Limited Energy: If she burns through her energy reserve, she then takes energy from primary functions of her body which can cause her to pass out and/or die. Energy can be regained from food, drink, sleep, or light; Frail Body: Her body easily wounds and can't stand up to much punishment. Personality - Stern and unwavering when something needs to be done, yet is warm and caring when someone she cares for gets hurt. She's loyal to people but loyal to her morals more and always seeks to do what's right. Causes her to act impulsively though she tries to fight it so she can at least analyze the situation first before she barges in. Also shows a bit of a playful side when things have calmed down for a bit and if it could be used to unbalance enemies. Motivation - She wants there to be a reason she came to exist, a purpose that helps the world. Also, looks up to Captain America of the Heroic Age and wants to be like him. BRIEF Bio - Even before Spiderman came to be, Alchemax sought to produce superheroes to protect its own interests. So, they hired the famous geneticist Arnim Zola to see how feasible a completely test-tube hero would be. Zola relished in the challenge and immediately sent his henchmen to gather Captain America and Invisible Woman up. Then he collected the two's genes, set them into stasis for future use, and was about to just splice those genes right there and then when he heard reports that Loki had come to Earth. Thinking of what a wonderful opportunity this presented, Zola invited him over to suggest a proposition and would show him Cap and Invisible Girl as his credentials. Loki was intrigued and confident he could handle anything a mere mortal could dish out, so he accepted the invitation. The God of Mischief really didn't expect the robotic grabbing arms as he came in or the knock-out serum Zola had been able to devise injected right afterwards. When he came to, Loki found himself being awakened from a stasis tube and having a DNA sample taken. In those brief seconds before he was put back in, he leapt out while leaving a illusion in his place. After the man left, Loki left the room in the guise of one of Zola's underlings, seeking a way out, a reason for what happened, and revenge against the doctor. First of course, he gathered his weapons. Then he finally traced Zola's signal and was shocked by what he saw after he invisibly snuck into the doctor's office. A young six year old girl was crying and saying that robots were one thing, killing people for training purposes was another, she couldn't do it. Arnim yelled that it showed weakness in her that couldn't exist if she was going to actually be of use. Then Dr. Zola sent her back to her training room for a test to decide her fate. Then the heads of Alchemax hologrammed to finally see the results of the project, Zola then let them see the live footage of the now underway test of her against an all-human army. He talked about how this first experiment was a failure, the mixing of Cap, Sue, and Loki had produced a highly talented psychic, but was comparable to a normal man in terms of strength and endurance and to her detriment was very strong-willed, something very undesirable for their purposes. Therefore, this final test was designed to be her end unless she killed, and from there be more malleable to follow future orders. Loki wasn't sure what it was; some good still remaining in him, the biological connection between him and her, or just the opportunity to foil Arnim's plans; but Zola's message made him snap. The adopted odinson actually found himself teleporting straight into battle and knocking the girl down from an upcoming attack. She then put up a forcefield to protect against the next attack and Loki then transported both of them into the hallway. From there, they ducked and ran through the halls, dodging guns and seeking the way out. When they got out, they kept going until they came to the heart of what is now known as the Badlands. After that, Loki realized that there would be three groups hunting him as well as her one and there was no way this girl could survive alone in the wild. Besides, this girl had his skills and would be an interesting apprentice. So in case she knew anything about the past, he introduced himself as "Merlin" and said that he had discovered her through stories of a mortal that had powers such as him. His caution was unnecessary right then though. Through her rapid growth from conception to four years of age then her two years afterwards, she had only learned speaking and fighting, only knowing herself as Experiment Alpha who would be given a true name if she proved herself worthy to Arnim and Alchemax. Merlin was surprised at that and offered to teach her what she had been missing out on as well as some more techniques if she wanted. The girl was eager to learn from her rescuer and was thrilled when he then gave her a name, Cyrania de Bergerac, a name he considered fine for a mortal sorceress. The resulting years were heavenly for Cyrania and made Loki grow fond of this offspring of his, though her Captain America tendencies would vex him. She would often get her energy to dangerously low levels when helping some passerby fend off the wildlife and the increasing numbers of Hulk-like creatures, causing Merlin to have to go in and rescue her. From one of those passerby, she first heard about the Heroic Age and begged Merlin to tell her about it. So he told tales of the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, the only exceptions were any tales relating to Loki. Cyrania was suspicious of the gaps, but Loki prefered the suspicions to potentially losing her love and trust. She looked up to those superheroes, Cap especially, and wanted to be like one of them. What would she think if her mentor and biological father was a supervillain? And as he saw his daughter seek to emulate her other biological father, he was jealous that she would take so much after him, yet proud of the woman she was becoming and realized that he didn't want her to follow his path. He realized this more and more as he started to enjoy helping her help others and was proud and saddened by her wanting to go into Nueva York and stop Alchemax from doing anymore of the evil she kept hearing about from desperate travelers who ran into the Badlands to escape. But Cyrania wasn't ready yet the first dozen times she tried to go, so Merlin stopped her then. But he knew she would be soon, and he at least wanted her to have some sort of physical weapon to have as a fallback. And there was one place he knew of that contained real quality weapons. So on her 17th birthday (date: the day she was rescued, age: the years after their escape plus her bodies six previous years), Merlin told Cyrania about a "deserted Asgardian armoury" where they were going to get her a weapon (a lie he hoped to keep secret since his target was a part of the armoury people rarely went, he could probably disguise the presence of people without her realizing it, and he could teleport directly to where the most powerful Asgardian-made weapons were). Cyr was eager for a real weapon, having been trained by Merlin in various weapon types using illusion weapons, but wondered how an abandoned armoury could still have weapons in it. That question then seemed to have been answered when they arrived and were met with a security alert and a welcoming committee of Asgardian automatons. Merlin held them off while she went to wisely choose a weapon, Cry hoping she didn't choose too late. She felt drawn to one lonely corner where a sword was set in an old leather sheath. Merlin was starting to get swamped, so she ran and grabbed the sheath and sword. Then she strapped the sheath to her side, drew out the sword, and teleported herself back to the battle. Cry found as she slashed and dodged that the sword felt like an extension of herself, it amplified her abilities and gave her a solid attack in her mostly defensive arsenal. It just felt so natural to her that she almost didn't notice when the last automaton was defeated and was whisked away by Merlin before the cavalry arrived. After the jump back to the Badlands, Loki took a good look at his daughter's choice and recognized the blade. It was Laevateinn, an ancient sword made for a sorcerer's use that all had assumed Loki would wield since Thor had Mjolnir. The sword though had to same caveat as the hammer, only one who was worthy could wield it, and the sword had never considered Loki worthy. Now she was wielding it as if it had been with her for her entire life, then when Cyr asked about the sword, Merlin, to help her not become proud or doubtful, told her the sword's name, that is was a vibranium-like material, and that it could only be wielded by a random few and she was one of them. Cyr then asked if she was ready and Merlin said yes. She at first thought he would go in with her, but Merlin said that she should start in there and search for the new heroes of this age so they could band together against the evil. He would go for any of the old heroes who were still alive and come back to her. He advised though that Cyr choose a cover name that would work for day-to-day living in the city, so Cyr choose Alastrina Rogers, Alice for short. Then after a heartbreaking farewell, the two went their separate ways, Cyrania into the city join the new Avengers against Alchemax, Loki into a quiet spot where he could plan what he was going to do next. Notes - Sorry that the Bio's so long, just wanted to make sure to answer the questions without too many plot holes. The inclusion of Laevateinn comes from some comics having Loki wielding it. Loki can still revert to a bad guy if the GM wants, though I'm one of those who like the idea of a good Loki. Name - Steven Buchanan Alias - Bucky Age - 15 these clothes on this body plus the mask for when he's a superhero Social Class - Lower (given money by Karen) Powers - Original Captain America's Super Soldier Serum derived powers + Physical Asgardian/Frost Giant Enhancements, Skilled Martial Artist Weaknesses - Weak Mind: Susceptible to Mind Control and Mental Suggestion; Insecurity: Compounds his Weak Mind, he's unsure of who he is because of where he came from and what he did in the past; Heat: The Frost Giant part of him makes him extra sensitive to heat Personality - Quiet and withdrawn, Bucky tends to brood on the past and have a serious, melonchaly outlook to life. He feels unsure of himself and worries about having his head played with. Around friends, he might warm up a bit and especailly warms up around Karen. Though through his crush on her, he can also get shy and nervous. Motivation - He wants to rescue Karen, 19 year old middle class girl with technopathy that gives her access to money in ATM's and his first crush. BRIEF Bio - Zola's second experiment, he was disappointed not to achieve both mental and physical powers again. But Steve actually followed orders and had no mental resistance to break through, making him altogether satisfactory. He passed his test with flying colors at age six and was given the name Winter Soldier as well as more in-depth training. But, the boy became scared of what he was becoming, how he was getting more and more numb to people needlessly dying. He took the chance to escape when he was transported into the city for his programming at the age of 13. He would have fallen into bad company if it hadn't been for Karen. She spotted the young boy as he ran through the streets, so she invited him in and learned his story. She then used her technopathy to hire someone to make an identity for him as Steven Buchanan and to arrange him a place to live. And she continued to look out for him and introduced him to some of her other friends, where he was first given the nickname of Bucky. Now that Karen has been kidnapped, Steve is willing to do anything in his power to save her. Notes - It's just, I did have a second sample collected to allow Loki's escape, so Zola has those and any clones he made of those samples to work with still. Besides, it forms a nice dichotomy, Cyraina got the mental powers of Loki and Sue and the mental dominance of Steve without any physical inheritance while Bucky got the physical powers of Steve and Loki with none of the mental ability and weak mental resistance. Feel free to have Omega as a Alchemax super villain we face later, the one with both mental and physical powers while having weak mental resistance (you could even make them Alchemax's Captain America if you wanted, she would have had really accelerated growth to respond to Spider-man, just a thought.)
6,430	176	14	1,537	4,321	The mystical presence that Strange had felt earlier had passed. The fire in the corner of his eye approaching the park was no longer there either. The weeds and vines were becoming harder and harder to hover through for the good doctor, and the grey rock man finally connected throwing a piece of debris at the young hero/healer. The testosterone in the Thing began to increase, his cockiness could almost be seen through his rocky hide. He ran up with another kick to the doctor's mid section sending him flying back out of the park and into the downtown ghettos of Nueva York. One super leap and a few footsteps and the Thing was right back on his footsteps. "I don't know how much more I can take this..." Strange thought. Across town, in the mid-level apartment of Dane... Miguel O'Hara finally woke. It didn't take him long to figure out where he was. Dane, or 'Strange' as Spiderman knew him, was out. His mail was on a counter as well as a photo ID. Miguel's suit was in the laundry room of his ally. "The last thing I remember... those 'heroes' from Alchemax coming after me... how long have I been out?" Spiderman thought now in costume, "There's no reason to stay here any longer, I need to get home, check in with my boss at Alchemax and figure out a reasonable excuse so I don't get fired. Even though I can't stand the place it pays the rent..." Swinging out of the apartment once some Public Eye flying by passed, Spiderman thwipped and flung around the city for a few blocks stretching and getting loose. He'd been in that bed for too long. It wasn't long before he'd passed some crazy man driving an older model van with wheels rather than hover tech. Looked like he was wearing a skull on his shirt, at least that's what Spidey thought. That's when the android of Alchemax, the Vision of 2099, phased through a wall approaching the web-slinger. Too bad he didn't have Spider Sense like the Spiderman of the Heroic Age. Back outside of Central Park... "Get up punk, gotta keep you's alive for my bosses. You gotta tell them how your magic staff or whatever ya call it works..." said the Thing standing over the fallen and beaten body of Strange. ~KL~	Name - Marcus Dane, 'MD' to his friends Alias - Strange, Doc, Magic Man Age - 23 Appearance - Social Class - Middle Powers - The Healer's Staff can heal any wound and also grants the bearer flight, a protective shield/aura, and energy blasts. MD has also learned several classic Dr. Strange abilities like the crimson bands of Cytorak. Weaknesses - Strange can get overwhelmed quickly, and if separated from his staff loses most of his abilities. Personality - optimistic, honest, witty Motivation - His older sister was dying of a rare disease, after coming into the possession of the staff and healing her she died several days later in a flying car crash. To honor her, and to stop blaming himself for her death, he now uses the staff regularly to cure junkies of addiction and heal other sicknesses in the downtown slums of NYC. BRIEF Bio - MD was a slacker and a trust fund kid skating by in med school until his sister became ill. Dropping out to work laboring jobs for extra money, Marcus came to meet a man in a red business suit who spoke of an artifact that could heal his sister. This man warned however, that the power of the Healer's Staff came at a price. It took Marcus weeks before realizing the man was some sort of devil and his sister's life was lost because of the deal he'd made. Dane Medical Transport was now called Hot Stuff Transport Service, the man in the red suit calling himself 'Mr. Church' was now the owner. Having lost his stock in his deceased father's company, Marcus is still slacking somewhat and skating by as cheaply as he can to live in the middle class zone with what small fortune he has left. After an encounter with Spiderman and Vision, Miguel O'Hara is currently in a coma in the apartment of Marcus after being found by the young hero. Dane had healed his injuries it was just a matter of time before Spidey would wake up. The fight against Alchemax is just beginning. Notes - To protect his ID from Public Eye surveillance, Strange cast a spell that makes his eyes glow whenever caught by cameras or video. ~KL~
6,431	176	15	2,002	2,690	John had been driving for just over five minutes before hearing yet another strange noise coming from outside but this didn't sound like car troubles, no, this was the sound of flesh clashing against metal. Quickly slamming on the brakes, Brooks opened the door of the car to check behind as to wether he had unintentionally hit some one with the barbaric van, only to see the true cause being some flying android assaulting the iconic hero Spiderman. Punisher smirked a bit, half because he was glad to see the hero was still alive and kicking and half because this Duden occurrence meant John would get to test his mettle against, what he now presumed to be, an Alchemax Avenger 'this is gonna be a lot better than just smacking around some punks' John thought. With a quick draw that would put Clint Eastwood to shame, John took out his stolen gun and began to fire off rounds at the Alchemax Avenger in the hopes of either brining it down or at least distracting it long enough for Spiderman to gain his composure and help out.	Name - John Brooks Alias - The Punisher Age - 27 Appearance - (He has brown hair and blue eyes.) Social Class - High Powers - While John doesn't have any actual powers he is in peak physical condition and skilled in various fighting styles and techniques. On top of that he possesses an iron will which allows him to resist telepathic attacks or readings if he's prepared for it. While his physical prowess and skills allow him to take on lesser thugs with little issue, when it comes to bigger, badder foes he resorts to what he is known for: his weapons. While John has multiple safe houses all over Nueva York, each containing a variety of weapons (including some stolen ones from those that have been beaten by him) he always keeps a few essentials on him at all times: -Lead covered, Carbonadium vest: The Punisher wears his trusty vest to dampen blows from super foes and hopefully stop any projectiles shot at him. -Multi-purpose Glove with holographic display. -Custom made Needle Gun: A modified nail gun, it is capable of firing out small needles that can be adorned with multiple different chemical concoctions such as paralytic poison, actual poison, adrenaline (to help out a teammate or make the enemy lose their composer) and other chemicals. -2 Synth-virbanium alloy knuckledusters: A pair of knuckledusters made from Synthetic-Vibranium and brass alloy. -Various grenades: At the very least, John keeps four grenades at his disposal at most times. While a majority are simply the classic explosion, he has other more unique grenades (Ex: EMP, incinerating, chemical agent, etc). -Safe houses/weapon caches: While he is more than capable of holding own in a fight, sometimes he needs to bump up his arsenal or visit a safe house for some rest, so The Punisher keeps some safe houses/weapon caches around Nueva York for just an occasion. Weaknesses - -His vest while very durable, if damaged, can become more of an issue than the enemy as A) it could give him lead poisoning and B) It could give him radiation Poisoning from the Carbonadium. -Despite his abilities John is still human and a gunshot can end it all in a second. Personality - John is a very angry person but doesn't show it much, even in combat he keeps his composure well. While he is often seen as a serious man he still has a sense of humor underneath his tough exterior. Motivation - John wants to get his revenge on Alchemax above all else. BRIEF Bio - John worked as a mercenary for many years, often being hired by Alchemax to do hits that they didn't want to sick their public eye into. After a while John saved enough money to retire very early and open his own chain of restaurants. After turning down a few hits from Alchemax, the Public eye was sent after him to tie up loose ends. While he managed to take out quite a few of his attackers, ultimately John got knocked out the window of his apartment and he plummeted down to the streets below. John woke up two days later in a room only illuminated by a old fashioned television, displaying a news story of how John Brooks jumped from his high rise apartment though no body was found. John was very confused by this but his confusion was replaced with anger as he remembered the Public eye was the ones who took him out. John was going to get his revenge so he stood up and turned only to come face to face with a punisher costume along with a plethora of weapons and gadgets with a note pinned to the costume reading "Take what they took from you. -Mr.W". This is how John Brooks became The Punisher. Notes - -While John is curious about how he survived the fall from his apartment, he is more interested in taking down Alchemax. -If I think of some more infamous weapon that John could use (Ex: Goblin glider) I'll ask first and have it be found in one of his safe houses/weapon caches.
6,432	176	16	541	402	Cyrania, Ant-Man, and Ultron The flamboyantly dressed hero recovered her composure after the Ghost was completely gone from view. This was no time to be dilly-dallying around gawking at other people’s tools. She turned to her two companions and said, “Well, guess we should check that machine then. ‘Casper’ probably at least gave us something to work with.” Then Cyr moved closer to it, waiting for Janet’s interface. Then an almost earthquake like tremor rocked the ground, but the girl of the Badlands knew how to ride it. She had needed to do so with similar tremors... She then turned to the two city slickers, “Is this sort of thing usual in Nueva York? ‘Cause it acts a lot like the kind the Hulk-like creatures make when they land after a jump.” Closing her eyes as if in thought, Janet’s processor got busy. She connected to the data drive Ghost brought, searching for one bit of information in particular. There it was! Firing up a long range connection, the Ultron’s mind raced over the channels until she found a link to the desired target, using the password Ghost’s files provided to dodge most of the firewalls. Raising her hand, she used the projector in her palm to display satellite footage of what was going on. “Oh, it’s that alchemax prop robot. And… oh hello, where have you been hiding, webslinger? Maybe we should investigate?” Henry just turned to Janet. “You want to take on, vision?” He tapped his own helmet as something else came through. “Well. It seems that the Thing is having a beat down in central park as well. With some kind of magician fellow.” He looked at Cyrania at the last part. “Seriously, two magicians in one day?” He threw his hands up in the air as he walked around the room. “You know, this endeavour was a lot simpler before you all-” He jabbed an accusing finger at Cyr “-Started turning up.” He sighed. “We’re going to have to divide and conquer. Though at this point I’m not really sure where I’d want Janet to go.” Alice ignored Ant-man’s comment and looked at Janet’s hologram again. “Only one person might be needed there. See, there’s someone else already on the assist.” She responded pointing at the gun man. Then Cyr looked back up at Mr. Pym, “Any reinforcements for the magician fellow? If this “Thing” is having a beatdown, then that fellow might appreciate help immediately. You have our only real source of quick transportation. Wouldn’t be good to come into a battle worn out.” Then the brunette snapped her fingers, “I’ve got it. We all three first go to where the Thing is. Then if you think we’re able to handle it, you can leave us girls to fight him and go assist Spiderman. If not, then we all help out the magician guy first since he seems in the most immediate danger, then see if the webslinger still needs help.” Then she paused, “Sound like a good plan?” “If the THing is anything like the real Thing, I stand pathetic little chance against it unless you want me to collapse a building on it’s head, killing everyone in the way. I am too… soft. Vision on the other hand, that would be more a battle of minds than a battle of strength. I am confident I can beat that imposter, even as I am now.” Janet evaluated. “I can hack traffic controls to divert what traffic there is to other areas and keep the private eye out until they figure out they’ve been had.” the Ultron offered. Henry shrugged. “Really the point is, we need to get going. Though I’m not sure about either of you yet. You’re not ready for anything like that yet Janet, even if I were to activate your combat subroutines you don’t have the hardiness for it. Hell even if you went up against vision he can fly you can’t.” He sat there, he was already calling in an ant to carry him away to the fight. Though there was still the other problem too consider. “I’m not entirely sure about either of you in a fight. Though there’s something in the museum that you might be able to work with.” He closed his mask as he walked around the room gathering any and all items he felt he might need. Shock disks, shrink disks. He hit a couple of keys on his wrist pad. “I’m firing up your combat subroutines, but I can turn them off if need be. Remember your programming though, if people get in your way acquiring this piece of tech stop them. Though don’t kill them or gravely injure them.” He pulled up a screen on a tablet and left it sitting on the desk. “You might need to tweak it a bit to make it work.” With that he hit the button on his left hand, shrinking and jumping aboard an ant. Janet’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t even know that was there… yet! Still processing all of the world’s history.” Janet said, looking at the almost intact extremis armor of the very original Anthony Stark. Useless to any human, but with her nano skin, it would be perfect. As a base that was. The repulsors were common, dare she say outdated technology at this date. Still, it would protect her well enough for now and let her fly. More than she could ask for. “Well then, I’m off to go commit a robbery.” turning to Henry, she had a serious look on her face: “But call me if you need any help, ok? I can still do something through hacking.” Cyr smiled a bit at her friend’s joy, then she turned towards Mr. Pym. “Can you tell me at least where Thing is now? If I’m to go for the assist, I need to know the place.” Henry shrugged, realizing that at Ant-Size there was really no point in doing that as people couldn’t see him doing it. He relayed his voice via a speaker in the… pile of computer in the middle of the room. “Get the armour, focus on the vision. If you deal with that, call me.” Alice cocked up and saluted towards the machine, “Yes sir.” Then went with Janet to the museum.	Name - Alastrina Rogers (nickname: Alice) Alias - Cyrania de Bergerac Age - 17 Appearance - Except with a musketeer hat with the white plume Physical: Tall, lithe Caucasian body with wavy, shoulder length, dirty blonde hair and gray/blue eyes in an oval face Social Class - Low Powers - Light Manipulation: Can use light to make illusions, force fields, and turn invisible; Mental Powers (Light Manipulation being more of a specific avenue of her Mental Powers): Can sense people's locations, has telekinesis, teleportation, and is resistant to mental attacks and take-overs Weaknesses - Excessively Loyal: She tends to throw herself in harm's way or offer herself up in the place of others for people she cares for and/or considers under her protection; Limited Energy: If she burns through her energy reserve, she then takes energy from primary functions of her body which can cause her to pass out and/or die. Energy can be regained from food, drink, sleep, or light; Frail Body: Her body easily wounds and can't stand up to much punishment. Personality - Stern and unwavering when something needs to be done, yet is warm and caring when someone she cares for gets hurt. She's loyal to people but loyal to her morals more and always seeks to do what's right. Causes her to act impulsively though she tries to fight it so she can at least analyze the situation first before she barges in. Also shows a bit of a playful side when things have calmed down for a bit and if it could be used to unbalance enemies. Motivation - She wants there to be a reason she came to exist, a purpose that helps the world. Also, looks up to Captain America of the Heroic Age and wants to be like him. BRIEF Bio - Even before Spiderman came to be, Alchemax sought to produce superheroes to protect its own interests. So, they hired the famous geneticist Arnim Zola to see how feasible a completely test-tube hero would be. Zola relished in the challenge and immediately sent his henchmen to gather Captain America and Invisible Woman up. Then he collected the two's genes, set them into stasis for future use, and was about to just splice those genes right there and then when he heard reports that Loki had come to Earth. Thinking of what a wonderful opportunity this presented, Zola invited him over to suggest a proposition and would show him Cap and Invisible Girl as his credentials. Loki was intrigued and confident he could handle anything a mere mortal could dish out, so he accepted the invitation. The God of Mischief really didn't expect the robotic grabbing arms as he came in or the knock-out serum Zola had been able to devise injected right afterwards. When he came to, Loki found himself being awakened from a stasis tube and having a DNA sample taken. In those brief seconds before he was put back in, he leapt out while leaving a illusion in his place. After the man left, Loki left the room in the guise of one of Zola's underlings, seeking a way out, a reason for what happened, and revenge against the doctor. First of course, he gathered his weapons. Then he finally traced Zola's signal and was shocked by what he saw after he invisibly snuck into the doctor's office. A young six year old girl was crying and saying that robots were one thing, killing people for training purposes was another, she couldn't do it. Arnim yelled that it showed weakness in her that couldn't exist if she was going to actually be of use. Then Dr. Zola sent her back to her training room for a test to decide her fate. Then the heads of Alchemax hologrammed to finally see the results of the project, Zola then let them see the live footage of the now underway test of her against an all-human army. He talked about how this first experiment was a failure, the mixing of Cap, Sue, and Loki had produced a highly talented psychic, but was comparable to a normal man in terms of strength and endurance and to her detriment was very strong-willed, something very undesirable for their purposes. Therefore, this final test was designed to be her end unless she killed, and from there be more malleable to follow future orders. Loki wasn't sure what it was; some good still remaining in him, the biological connection between him and her, or just the opportunity to foil Arnim's plans; but Zola's message made him snap. The adopted odinson actually found himself teleporting straight into battle and knocking the girl down from an upcoming attack. She then put up a forcefield to protect against the next attack and Loki then transported both of them into the hallway. From there, they ducked and ran through the halls, dodging guns and seeking the way out. When they got out, they kept going until they came to the heart of what is now known as the Badlands. After that, Loki realized that there would be three groups hunting him as well as her one and there was no way this girl could survive alone in the wild. Besides, this girl had his skills and would be an interesting apprentice. So in case she knew anything about the past, he introduced himself as "Merlin" and said that he had discovered her through stories of a mortal that had powers such as him. His caution was unnecessary right then though. Through her rapid growth from conception to four years of age then her two years afterwards, she had only learned speaking and fighting, only knowing herself as Experiment Alpha who would be given a true name if she proved herself worthy to Arnim and Alchemax. Merlin was surprised at that and offered to teach her what she had been missing out on as well as some more techniques if she wanted. The girl was eager to learn from her rescuer and was thrilled when he then gave her a name, Cyrania de Bergerac, a name he considered fine for a mortal sorceress. The resulting years were heavenly for Cyrania and made Loki grow fond of this offspring of his, though her Captain America tendencies would vex him. She would often get her energy to dangerously low levels when helping some passerby fend off the wildlife and the increasing numbers of Hulk-like creatures, causing Merlin to have to go in and rescue her. From one of those passerby, she first heard about the Heroic Age and begged Merlin to tell her about it. So he told tales of the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, the only exceptions were any tales relating to Loki. Cyrania was suspicious of the gaps, but Loki prefered the suspicions to potentially losing her love and trust. She looked up to those superheroes, Cap especially, and wanted to be like one of them. What would she think if her mentor and biological father was a supervillain? And as he saw his daughter seek to emulate her other biological father, he was jealous that she would take so much after him, yet proud of the woman she was becoming and realized that he didn't want her to follow his path. He realized this more and more as he started to enjoy helping her help others and was proud and saddened by her wanting to go into Nueva York and stop Alchemax from doing anymore of the evil she kept hearing about from desperate travelers who ran into the Badlands to escape. But Cyrania wasn't ready yet the first dozen times she tried to go, so Merlin stopped her then. But he knew she would be soon, and he at least wanted her to have some sort of physical weapon to have as a fallback. And there was one place he knew of that contained real quality weapons. So on her 17th birthday (date: the day she was rescued, age: the years after their escape plus her bodies six previous years), Merlin told Cyrania about a "deserted Asgardian armoury" where they were going to get her a weapon (a lie he hoped to keep secret since his target was a part of the armoury people rarely went, he could probably disguise the presence of people without her realizing it, and he could teleport directly to where the most powerful Asgardian-made weapons were). Cyr was eager for a real weapon, having been trained by Merlin in various weapon types using illusion weapons, but wondered how an abandoned armoury could still have weapons in it. That question then seemed to have been answered when they arrived and were met with a security alert and a welcoming committee of Asgardian automatons. Merlin held them off while she went to wisely choose a weapon, Cry hoping she didn't choose too late. She felt drawn to one lonely corner where a sword was set in an old leather sheath. Merlin was starting to get swamped, so she ran and grabbed the sheath and sword. Then she strapped the sheath to her side, drew out the sword, and teleported herself back to the battle. Cry found as she slashed and dodged that the sword felt like an extension of herself, it amplified her abilities and gave her a solid attack in her mostly defensive arsenal. It just felt so natural to her that she almost didn't notice when the last automaton was defeated and was whisked away by Merlin before the cavalry arrived. After the jump back to the Badlands, Loki took a good look at his daughter's choice and recognized the blade. It was Laevateinn, an ancient sword made for a sorcerer's use that all had assumed Loki would wield since Thor had Mjolnir. The sword though had to same caveat as the hammer, only one who was worthy could wield it, and the sword had never considered Loki worthy. Now she was wielding it as if it had been with her for her entire life, then when Cyr asked about the sword, Merlin, to help her not become proud or doubtful, told her the sword's name, that is was a vibranium-like material, and that it could only be wielded by a random few and she was one of them. Cyr then asked if she was ready and Merlin said yes. She at first thought he would go in with her, but Merlin said that she should start in there and search for the new heroes of this age so they could band together against the evil. He would go for any of the old heroes who were still alive and come back to her. He advised though that Cyr choose a cover name that would work for day-to-day living in the city, so Cyr choose Alastrina Rogers, Alice for short. Then after a heartbreaking farewell, the two went their separate ways, Cyrania into the city join the new Avengers against Alchemax, Loki into a quiet spot where he could plan what he was going to do next. Notes - Sorry that the Bio's so long, just wanted to make sure to answer the questions without too many plot holes. The inclusion of Laevateinn comes from some comics having Loki wielding it. Loki can still revert to a bad guy if the GM wants, though I'm one of those who like the idea of a good Loki. Name - Steven Buchanan Alias - Bucky Age - 15 these clothes on this body plus the mask for when he's a superhero Social Class - Lower (given money by Karen) Powers - Original Captain America's Super Soldier Serum derived powers + Physical Asgardian/Frost Giant Enhancements, Skilled Martial Artist Weaknesses - Weak Mind: Susceptible to Mind Control and Mental Suggestion; Insecurity: Compounds his Weak Mind, he's unsure of who he is because of where he came from and what he did in the past; Heat: The Frost Giant part of him makes him extra sensitive to heat Personality - Quiet and withdrawn, Bucky tends to brood on the past and have a serious, melonchaly outlook to life. He feels unsure of himself and worries about having his head played with. Around friends, he might warm up a bit and especailly warms up around Karen. Though through his crush on her, he can also get shy and nervous. Motivation - He wants to rescue Karen, 19 year old middle class girl with technopathy that gives her access to money in ATM's and his first crush. BRIEF Bio - Zola's second experiment, he was disappointed not to achieve both mental and physical powers again. But Steve actually followed orders and had no mental resistance to break through, making him altogether satisfactory. He passed his test with flying colors at age six and was given the name Winter Soldier as well as more in-depth training. But, the boy became scared of what he was becoming, how he was getting more and more numb to people needlessly dying. He took the chance to escape when he was transported into the city for his programming at the age of 13. He would have fallen into bad company if it hadn't been for Karen. She spotted the young boy as he ran through the streets, so she invited him in and learned his story. She then used her technopathy to hire someone to make an identity for him as Steven Buchanan and to arrange him a place to live. And she continued to look out for him and introduced him to some of her other friends, where he was first given the nickname of Bucky. Now that Karen has been kidnapped, Steve is willing to do anything in his power to save her. Notes - It's just, I did have a second sample collected to allow Loki's escape, so Zola has those and any clones he made of those samples to work with still. Besides, it forms a nice dichotomy, Cyraina got the mental powers of Loki and Sue and the mental dominance of Steve without any physical inheritance while Bucky got the physical powers of Steve and Loki with none of the mental ability and weak mental resistance. Feel free to have Omega as a Alchemax super villain we face later, the one with both mental and physical powers while having weak mental resistance (you could even make them Alchemax's Captain America if you wanted, she would have had really accelerated growth to respond to Spider-man, just a thought.)
6,433	176	17	233	1,179	Magneto As The Thing stood over strange, an ominous voice came from the shadows of a near by alleyway, “You appear to be in the wrong neighborhood, Avenger.” A dark clad figure stepped out, his face hidden behind a helmet and his body concealed by a black cloak. “Here, let me get you a cab!” In a dramatic fashion Magneto threw his arm back. Then launched his arm forward, bringing a nearby car with it straight into The Thing slamming him up against a building. Damon had been just passing by when he noticed the battle. Normally he would have stayed out of fight like this, especially with one of the Alchemax Avengers involved, but Strange needed help. While he didn’t know him personally, there weren’t many in the slums who hadn’t heard of the man who strolled around healing the sick. Without Strange the poor districts would suffer countless lives. Saving him was worth whatever risk. Immediately he slipped into the nearest alleyway and changed into his costume. He repeatedly pulled the car back and smashed it right back into The Thing until the car was totaled. Magneto released control of the vehicle and ran up to help Strange up, "You need to go, that may have only made him angry. I can hold him off but you get out of here.”	Name – Damon Eisenhardt Alias - Magneto Age -17 Appearance - Social Class Lower Powers – -Manipulation of magnetic fields in order to control and bend metals of all types. -Produces a force field that can protect against a wide array of attacks. -Can resist the most telekinetic attacks Weaknesses – -His shield is powerful, but not infinite. It can run out and without it, Damon is rather vulnerable as he wears no armor. -His overconfidence in his powers, often not having a backup plan when going into a situation. Personality – Damon can be arrogant, often going head first into dangerous situations. He has no concern for destruction and as such will devastate entire city blocks to take down his foes. He has limits though. His goal is justice, not murder. He detests harming anyone who is innocent or uninvolved and refuses to allow killing of any kind. Motivation - His mother was sent to prison for a crime she didn’t commit. Damon seeks to both correct the corrupt justice system and find the true criminal to sent his mother free. BRIEF Bio – Damon Jefferson grew up in the slums of Nueva York. The only family he had was his mother, as his father left his mom before he was born. Surviving on their own was no small task, his mother worked a low paying full time job to cover the bills, and when that didn’t cut it they were reduced to petty theft. They had rules however, never get involved with the local gangs, and don’t go anywhere near drugs or drug money as The Public eye had a habit of shooting on sight if they caught a deal going down. Around the age of 10, Damon began to notice strange things happening around him. Metal objects like pens would jump into his hand when he wanted them. Older technology like TV’s would break near him. He asked his mom about it but she would simply dodge the question. Damon’s powers became fully visible when he stopped an oncoming car dead in its tracks and lifted it up. At this point his mother finally told him, he was a mutant, but even more that his last name wasn’t Jefferson, it was Eisenhardt. She told him about his great grandfather and how he used his powers to try and eradicate humans for mutant supremacy, and how if the world knew who they were there would be hell to pay. Damon honored his mother’s wishes to stay hidden, but continued to practice his powers in secret, usually using them to life things out of unsuspecting pockets. Then one fateful day Damon got a phone call from The Public Eye. His mother had been arrested for possession of illegal substances. Somehow their car’s trunk had been filled with enough Rapture to send her away for the rest of her life. There was no investigation, no trial, just a guilty verdict and an arrest. He knew she was framed, but no one was going to listen to some kid from the ghetto, and he couldn’t find any proof to set her free. In a fit of rage he began tear up their house throwing things around, that’s when he discovered his great grandfather's helmet hidden in a closet. After putting together a decent costume and a quick spray paint job on the helmet, Damon was ready to make those responsible for his mother’s incarceration pay. Magneto was back, and this metal world was his new playground. Notes - The wiki said Magneto could levitate normally, but for this I’ll just say he can if he’s wearing metal boots or something. He’s also a decent pickpocket.
6,434	176	18	843	1,812	Cyrania + Janet As they exited the warehouse door, Cyrania illusioned herself to be wearing a hooded sweatshirt, torn jeans, sneakers, and no mask on. It took less energy to maintain clothes only and this promised to be something that would take a while before actual combat. Then Alice telepathed to Janet, “Have a plan yet for when we get to the museum? Or are you waiting till then so you can acquire a full schematic or whatever that is?” While she waited for the answer, the brunette scanned around for any Alchemax men along their walk. “I’m thinking the straightforward approach, for once.” Janet said, leading the way as she could access the GPS and GLONASS to navigate their way. Using some of the money form the hacked ATM from yesterday, the duet took a cab to the museum. “Go get us tickets. that should give us close enough. Once there, the security is designed to keep a human away, I should have no problem getting to the armor. It’ll take a while - for me - to analyze it and put it to work, I!d say between ten and twenty seconds. Can you keep up a forcefield against rifle fire for that long?” the Ultron asked, trying to figure out their tactic. “Psh, easily,” Cyr answered. “It’s when it gets to a minute that things might get hairy. Alright then, so go to the counter, pick up tickets. Go to its location, keep the fire off of you while you figure out how to work it. Want me to teleport us to the front or are you planning on flying us out?” “Teleport us? You can do the nicest things. Failing that… Well the armor dad made specs to has the flight capability so I should be able to plot the course safely, but I’m not sure yet. I might not even be able to get the armor to power up, it is an… antique. If all works well though, that’s the plan. Unless you mind being carried, in which case I suppose stunning everyone in the room and making a hasty exit would do. I can outrun them all and you can vanish well enough. If we separate, we’ll meet here.” Janet said, her palm projector displaying the location on a map and a differently colored line highlighting their intended path. Cyrania studied the map intently, trying to remember the route and location in full before setting out. Once Alice thought she had it, she said, “Got it. I wouldn’t mind a carry at all but back-up plans are always preferable.” Then the cab arrived at their destination and readied for their departure, “And not a moment too soon.” Cyr made sure her disguise was still on, ran over the plan again in her mind, then turned to her partner and said, “Ready?” “Made ready.” Janet smiled, and the two walked to the counter to get their tickets before joining the next group to go in. There were a bit too many innocent people for Janet’s liking, but she needed that armor now if she wanted to have a hand in combat. Speaking of which, she linked up with the spy satellite again and watched what the Vision was doing, calculating approaches and tactics. The exhibit was rather interesting though, providing a good window into what they might actually meet one day. There was even a wax figurine of the original vision, a being a good bit more powerful than the one they were about to face if Janet was to judge. She nearly burst out laughing when the tour took them around a pedestal with a statue of one of the earlier versions of Ultron. “MODOK, Red Skull,” Alice whispered silently the names as she saw their statues, remembering the images Merlin showed her . “Dr. Zola,” was whispered in fear and resulted in trembling. Then Cyr paused a bit as one in particular caught her eye. One figure was tall, white-faced, with long black hair, dressed in green, and wearing a strange long-horned helmet. “Hey,” the brunette whispered to her companion, “That one looks like Merlin, though he never wore anything like that helmet. Is it some unsavory relation of his? He never told me about that guy and I always thought Merlin never looked old enough to actually have lived through the Golden Age.” “I’m afraid you are confused, miss.” their tour guide said, “This is none other than Loki, the evil brother of Thor, responsible for several major crises in the Golden Age. Fortunately he hasn’t been seen or heard from since. But rest assured, the new Avengers are certainly going to protect us if he choses to appear again.” Janet paid only marginal attention to it though - her gaze was fixated on her prize, all sensors hammering at the red and gold armor in the next display. “And now we come to our newest acquisition, Iron man Extremis. As some of you may know, extremis is an attempt at producing super soldiers, but Tony stark modified the treatment to aid him in healing from meeting one of the test subjects and growing new connections that would help him operate the armor more efficiently. since then… miss? Oh my god! Security!” The guard’s sudden outburst was triggered by Janet’s arms morphing into blades and slicing the front of the glass exhibit cage clean off. Now that the guide generously provided insight into how the armor worked, she had easy time analyzing its circuitry. “Cyr, now.” the Ultron signalled as her hand touched the armor, sending cracks of electricity all over, filling up it’s long depleted capacitors. “Right,” said Alice, glad to have a distraction from what the tour guide said. Then Cyrania de Bergerac revealed her true colors as she let the illusion go in order to do a proper force field around herself and her companion. The rifle fire was intense but the brunette held and was even able to push the civilians out of the gun fire range. Having scanned the armor, her outer shell morphed to provide the necessary connections as she commanded the individual pieces powered by vectored repulsor fields to assemble around her. It was over in twenty seconds. “Thank you for the wonderful tour, madam, but we’ll be off.” Janet gave a cheeky salute, raising a hand against one of the windows and blowing it clean off of it’s hinges. “Ready to leave when you are!” The Outlands girl grinned, “Born ready.” And hopped onto Ultron’s back. Sending the appropriate command, the armor’s engines roared to life and eased the duet ot of the window before picking up speed. Janet was however having some trouble. Unbeknownst to her, the armor was fitted with a dumb annoyance, but one that could fight back a lot better than SAM, who was for all intents and purposes an office clerk. This JARVIS thing was slowing her computing power down 15% only for her to keep it at bay. Worse, before she could stop it, it sent a distress signal to Stark enterprises AND the local Alchemax-ran law enforcement. “Trouble on the way!” Janet yelled over the sound of air whooshing around, pulling a sharp stop as autocannon fire whizzed in front of them.	Name: Ultron-99 Alias: Ultron, Janet Pym Age: Not applicable, can choose to appear as any gender and age. Social class: Not applicable, camouflages as middle class. Appearance: Powers: Superhuman speed - Ultron can move about three times as fast as a normal human being. The armor slows it down to half of that though. Superhuman agility - Being more sleek than the original robot has its perks. Its motoric systems are built to use this, sacrificing strength. Superhuman mind - The robot has virtually unlimited memory and the computational power of the best technology. It also possesses significantly shortened reaction time and short range telepathy (Max range of 1 m, requires physical contact for detailed readings) Energy absorption - Ultron is powered through its skin which can transfer various energy sources into its power source. The capability is limited though - for example it can still be destroyed by fire given enough exposure or high enough temperature. Sensors and transmitters - The robot is aware of more than a human, capable of seeing and hearing a wider spectrum, and can also transmit such signals. Nano coat skin - The skin of the robot is made out of nanties that can slightly alter its shape and color, enough to impersonate a person or for example change a finger into a key. It can be strengthened up to the properties of titanium. Furthermore, it allows Ultron to connect to any machinery and operate it and serves as an interface for its telepathic abilities. In addition to its native powers, Ultron is supposed to be equipped with additional armor for combat (Not yet constructed): Graviton emitters - The armor can project gravitons to create fields of various shapes. This gives several abilities to the wielder, namely flight, tractor and repulsor beams. The system is however difficult to control even for Ultron, dropping its mental abilities to that of an intelligent human, and calculations necessary to affect large areas are even beyond this model's capabilities. Durability - The armor can protect the wielder from severe punishment, but due to the need of a pilot entering and exiting, it has weak points. Weaknesses: Use of armor - Unlike the previous Ultrons, this version is rather squishy while not wearing the armor, and slower while it does. Infancy - This particular instance has only just been activated, making its mind weaker against trickery. Personality: Empty slate. While Ultron does have some core programming that allows it to operate and hopefully prevents it from going bad as its predecessor, it so far possesses no information or experience with the world. Its major improvement, created from salvaged parts of Ultron-15’s code, is the capability to feel emotions and otherwise behave ‘human’. Upon activation, it would perform like a computer would, mostly only reacting to stimuli. After a period of gathering information and learning, it would behave like a child would, before finally developing and adult personality. Motivation: Its core programing allows for it to make its own choices, although it forbids Ultron from from altering its core program and puts other blocks on that would make it the menace the original Ultron was. As a last resort, Henry Pym can control Ultron through the use of his ant telepathy. Later it would be inspired and choose to follow Asimov's laws of robotics, although it wouldn't be bound by them. Bio: Created by henry Pym as a solution to the so far nonexistent problem of Superhumans becoming too big a threat, Ultron - 99 combines the technology of Ultron with the purpose of the Sentinels, intended to be a prototype for the would-be army of protectors. The first unit awaits activation. Notes: This character is created by 's character.
6,435	176	19	1,537	4,321	The man called Strange picked himself up and spoke an incantation under his breath calling his staff to him. Crouching he said another small inaudible spell and his staff lit up a bit brighter healing the wounds he had taken with mystical force. The guy in the helmet showed up at the right time and place. Strange hadn't seen this one on the news like some of the others, but noted the dark clothes meant he probably avoided cameras. Marcus Dane stood, completely healed, and dusted his shoulder off. His eyes crackled white hot with mystical energy. "It's okay, I remembered that teleportation spell." Strange spoke with a hand movement that sent the Thing into the Badlands with several savage Hulk type creatures around. "So... they call me Strange. Thanks for the assist." Dane said approaching the guy who'd just put down what was left of the remains of the last car he was beating the Thing with. Across town... Spiderman got his game face back on and recovered from the attacks by the Vision android. Another player had hit the seen. Some guy with heavy artillery and a skull on his chest. Spiderman liked him already. Firing a few web lines at the Vision had him phasing out for a few moments and put his attention towards Spiderman. The Punisher broke out what looked to be a recalled nail gun from three decades ago that was taken off the shelf due to it's power being able to shoot a nine inch nail seventy-five feet. A few shots fired left the Vision in need of time to repair his robotic shoulder but Spiderman dealt a crippling blow nearly removing the arm completely. "You were supposed to send that back to Home Depot in the 70's," Spiderman said thwipping webs and swinging around the man clad in black, "...but this android must be something new Alchemax cooked up while I was away." "And you've gotta materialize to heal your robotics apparently, so I'll go ahead and make sure you're stuck there for at least..." Spiderman began taunting the grounded android and blasting him with net webbing before his wounds were healed enough to go intangible and escape. "Alchemax will be pleased to know you are not dead yet. We will be in touch, and next time I will not be alone." the Vision said disappearing through the cold streets of downtown NY. ~KL~	Name - Marcus Dane, 'MD' to his friends Alias - Strange, Doc, Magic Man Age - 23 Appearance - Social Class - Middle Powers - The Healer's Staff can heal any wound and also grants the bearer flight, a protective shield/aura, and energy blasts. MD has also learned several classic Dr. Strange abilities like the crimson bands of Cytorak. Weaknesses - Strange can get overwhelmed quickly, and if separated from his staff loses most of his abilities. Personality - optimistic, honest, witty Motivation - His older sister was dying of a rare disease, after coming into the possession of the staff and healing her she died several days later in a flying car crash. To honor her, and to stop blaming himself for her death, he now uses the staff regularly to cure junkies of addiction and heal other sicknesses in the downtown slums of NYC. BRIEF Bio - MD was a slacker and a trust fund kid skating by in med school until his sister became ill. Dropping out to work laboring jobs for extra money, Marcus came to meet a man in a red business suit who spoke of an artifact that could heal his sister. This man warned however, that the power of the Healer's Staff came at a price. It took Marcus weeks before realizing the man was some sort of devil and his sister's life was lost because of the deal he'd made. Dane Medical Transport was now called Hot Stuff Transport Service, the man in the red suit calling himself 'Mr. Church' was now the owner. Having lost his stock in his deceased father's company, Marcus is still slacking somewhat and skating by as cheaply as he can to live in the middle class zone with what small fortune he has left. After an encounter with Spiderman and Vision, Miguel O'Hara is currently in a coma in the apartment of Marcus after being found by the young hero. Dane had healed his injuries it was just a matter of time before Spidey would wake up. The fight against Alchemax is just beginning. Notes - To protect his ID from Public Eye surveillance, Strange cast a spell that makes his eyes glow whenever caught by cameras or video. ~KL~
6,436	176	20	2,002	2,690	The Punisher Brooks watched the modern day web-head take down the infamous android with a mighty blow and the 'thwip's of his webs. John watched the spectacle mostly, not getting to involved due to his limited munitions and ammunition after all he was only prepared enough to effectively take down a few thugs. After the Alchemax automaton made his escape, John approached Spidey and put his nail gun back in its holster as he came to meet with the famous hero "glad to see your back. Took your sweet time being dead didn't you." John said in his usual, flat voice. John hadn't been much of a fan of Spider-Man before his own tentative steps into heroism but after a few weeks of regularly attempting to take down Alchemax projects and low level thugs, The Punisher gained a new respect for what the heroes around the city were doing.	Name - John Brooks Alias - The Punisher Age - 27 Appearance - (He has brown hair and blue eyes.) Social Class - High Powers - While John doesn't have any actual powers he is in peak physical condition and skilled in various fighting styles and techniques. On top of that he possesses an iron will which allows him to resist telepathic attacks or readings if he's prepared for it. While his physical prowess and skills allow him to take on lesser thugs with little issue, when it comes to bigger, badder foes he resorts to what he is known for: his weapons. While John has multiple safe houses all over Nueva York, each containing a variety of weapons (including some stolen ones from those that have been beaten by him) he always keeps a few essentials on him at all times: -Lead covered, Carbonadium vest: The Punisher wears his trusty vest to dampen blows from super foes and hopefully stop any projectiles shot at him. -Multi-purpose Glove with holographic display. -Custom made Needle Gun: A modified nail gun, it is capable of firing out small needles that can be adorned with multiple different chemical concoctions such as paralytic poison, actual poison, adrenaline (to help out a teammate or make the enemy lose their composer) and other chemicals. -2 Synth-virbanium alloy knuckledusters: A pair of knuckledusters made from Synthetic-Vibranium and brass alloy. -Various grenades: At the very least, John keeps four grenades at his disposal at most times. While a majority are simply the classic explosion, he has other more unique grenades (Ex: EMP, incinerating, chemical agent, etc). -Safe houses/weapon caches: While he is more than capable of holding own in a fight, sometimes he needs to bump up his arsenal or visit a safe house for some rest, so The Punisher keeps some safe houses/weapon caches around Nueva York for just an occasion. Weaknesses - -His vest while very durable, if damaged, can become more of an issue than the enemy as A) it could give him lead poisoning and B) It could give him radiation Poisoning from the Carbonadium. -Despite his abilities John is still human and a gunshot can end it all in a second. Personality - John is a very angry person but doesn't show it much, even in combat he keeps his composure well. While he is often seen as a serious man he still has a sense of humor underneath his tough exterior. Motivation - John wants to get his revenge on Alchemax above all else. BRIEF Bio - John worked as a mercenary for many years, often being hired by Alchemax to do hits that they didn't want to sick their public eye into. After a while John saved enough money to retire very early and open his own chain of restaurants. After turning down a few hits from Alchemax, the Public eye was sent after him to tie up loose ends. While he managed to take out quite a few of his attackers, ultimately John got knocked out the window of his apartment and he plummeted down to the streets below. John woke up two days later in a room only illuminated by a old fashioned television, displaying a news story of how John Brooks jumped from his high rise apartment though no body was found. John was very confused by this but his confusion was replaced with anger as he remembered the Public eye was the ones who took him out. John was going to get his revenge so he stood up and turned only to come face to face with a punisher costume along with a plethora of weapons and gadgets with a note pinned to the costume reading "Take what they took from you. -Mr.W". This is how John Brooks became The Punisher. Notes - -While John is curious about how he survived the fall from his apartment, he is more interested in taking down Alchemax. -If I think of some more infamous weapon that John could use (Ex: Goblin glider) I'll ask first and have it be found in one of his safe houses/weapon caches.
6,437	177	0	1,063	170	Tsiolkovsky Station Civilian Deck "Main Street" An almost eerie calm had settled over the Civilian Deck of Tsiolkovsky Station. The activities of the evening had for the most part yet to commence. But they surely would. The only thing of particular note to be seen was a pudgy, middle-aged man strolled casually across the Promenade, his feet echoing hollowly across the corridor. He passed 'Town Square'- a glorified rest area with a fountain, some benches, and a few old-fashioned analog clocks telling the local time at various locations. New York City on Earth, Eos Central on Mars, and a few others. The man noted the local time as he passed, just a few minutes shy of seven. He began walking a little faster. The man was Dan O'Brien, in case you were wondering. And he was the proprietor of the Asimov Lounge, the greatest (and only) proper saloon on station. Admittedly, the Asteroid Hotel had a bar as well, but it was rather too fanciful- not to mention expensive- for the typical visitor. The Asimov's clientele cut a clean slice across several social classes, but the better part of it was made up of roughneck miners and mercenaries. But that was neither here nor there. The Asimov Lounge was about due to open, and it couldn't very well do that without its bartender. Not to mention its proprietor and sole employee- all of whom were O'Brien himself. He came finally to a large door, a sign over which read 'The Asimov Lounge,' and in smaller letter beneath, 'Est. 2391.' The barman passed his ID card in front of the scanner attached to the door, unlocking it. Stepping in and flipping on the lights, he beheld his favorite sight in the Galaxy. The Asimov was a fairly large place, with a large, old style wooden bar making a loop toward the center of taproom. The walls, which were designed to mimic ancient Earth brickwork, were decorated with all manner of curios and artifacts. Here a 'real' deckplate from the UTS Sartre, there some historical mining tools, et cetera. Beyond the bar itself were clusters of tables and chairs, capable of seating a sizable crowd. A few doors to one side led to a storage room, a unisex lavatory, and to a couple of private rooms respectively. And in the farther corner from the door, near the viewports (which offered a stunning starscape, by the way) were the pride of the establishment: A jukebox and an honest-to-God real pool table with actual balls. Most such things operated by means of a complex holographic projector, but not this one. O'Brien took a few seconds, as was his custom, to proudly survey his domain before beginning to prepare for what would surely be an exciting evening. Oh yes, it would be a fine evening indeed.	Name: Dr. Lena Koenig, Ph.D Race: Human Age: 53, looks 23 ((Because it’s the only pic I liked. I’m just gonna go with exceedingly strange research gone wrong, with a bad bit to it, as well.)) Gender: Female Personality: She loves his work, and is very protective of her patients, hence why she is often trusted with high-value patients, like important and/or famous people. She is rather jaded, and is prone to back-talk, but is at the core a good person, though not the nicest person on the station. It takes a bit to earn his respect and trust, but she is a great person to have as an ally, and she knows exactly how your body ticks, so, having him as an enemy doesn’t lead to a long and happy life, per say. Skills: A master physician, knowledgeable in many disciplines of medicine. Still strong, fit, healthy and spry even at his age. Knowledgeable in martial arts, though not a master, as well as being a god shot with pistols and rifles, including military grade. Highly intelligent, and is completely business in a time of crisis, treating in order of most to least likely to die. various other skills. Reason for Visit: Work/Immigration Bio: Early on, she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She had a solid childhood and education. When she left for higher education, she quickly discovered within herself a powerful wanderlust, a desire to see as much of the galaxy as she could, and planned for the future she envisioned as she studied medicine and xenobiology. In school, she made numerous friends, most from his focus, but she managed to pick up one or two friends, who were on the fringes of various cultures outside the norms, and she learned a lot from them, many things that her parents did not tell her of, and a few they specifically hid, as they sheltered her from the universe. Amongst these were talks of mercenary groups, paid to travel the galaxy and deal with problems that nations couldn’t deal with officially, leading into the next stage, and to the outright shattering of her ‘shell’… Where she decided that that is exactly what she wanted to do, and served as the combat medic for a squad of mercenaries for a number of years, thought to be almost a decade, though the exact number of years is unknown to all but those closest to her. She then went to graduate school and earned a Ph.D in xenobiology, and went on to become one of the galaxies best doctors, skilled in multiple fields of medicine. She has been known, however, to keep up with most of her friends and contacts, both old and new, from her time as a mercenary, and she likely (well, definitely) has enemies left. Enemies who want to kill her. During one of her tours of duty, one of her arms got blown off by a sniper, barely missing her chest. It was replaced by a top of the line Modular Limb Replacement, Combat Medic, Arm (MLR-CM/A), which she has heavily modified since, to include a whole manner of things, including weapons, enough of a medical kit to save a life, survival gear, and more, in various modules she can interchange relatively easily. On to present day, she heard that Tsiolkovsky station had an opening, and she decided that it was yet again time for a change of places, packed up, and left, leaving behind a sheet of paper on the now bare desk, with a single sentence saying goodbye, a clue as to where she had gone, and contact information for a quality replacement. Equipment: Medical Kit, contains data and high-quality equipment for the treatment of all races. Also contains numerous drugs, hence the declaration. Various licenses and diplomas, saying that he is indeed allowed to have all his cool toys. And, lastly, a comm unit, which looks like something more than just a comm unit to anyone who is especially good with technology. security would know that it isn’t harmful to the station. Her modified MLR-CM/A (Modules: Combat Medic, Survival, Escape & Evade, Search & Rescue, CQC, Defender) Position applying for: Chief Medical Officer
6,438	177	1	218	293	A six hour flight her travel documents said, Wow, they were sure has hell wrong. Twelve and a half hours later Atlas Dassun finally stepped off onto Tsiolkovsky Station arrival docking bay. Six hours in a cargo transporter was easy enough jump, she had time to catch up all her paperwork but it was the unnecessary four-hour delay in customs on the Crux Quadrant that really irritated her- all because the rookie pilot didn't declare his cargo correctly in his ledger. Atlas firmly believed that everybody needs to learn by their mistakes but after a few hours of painfully listening to the rookie and docksman argue back and forth she promptly decided to take matters into her own hands by obtaining both sets of documents... Within an hour they were cleared for departure with the pilot declaring that 'He owed her one'. Standing at the edge of the ships cargo area the rear loading ramp slowly opened and she was greeted by the sight of a handful of Workhorse T66 loaders ready and waiting to dispatch with the ships cargo, while not the latest model of the Workhorse loaders the T66 were favoured due to their load carrying capacity and 'any idiot can drive' operating systems. Atlas stretched out with a yawn before hoisting her scruffy duffle bag of only possessions onto her shoulder, she felt a buzz of excitement passing the groaning loaders as she descended down the ramp. Her first order of business was to find Docking Chief Salvador Rudd- her employer contact whom she had be liaising with for the transfer to this space station. Walking through the docks they didn't seem to be as busy as she expected but her watch told her that she had arrived right on shift change, a young woman dressed in a U.T.S overalls almost scurried past tapping away at a data pad when Atlas piped up "Excuse me". The woman blinked at Atlas as she pulled her out of her concentration. "I'm looking for Dock Chief Rudd, could- " Atlas was cut short by a pointed hand direction to the east and sharp interjection. "Service desk, Bay three." Before Atlas could say anymore the woman went back to her data pad strutting off. "Thanks" Atlas muttered to herself and looked in the general direction where the employee had pointed. On the opposite side of the hanger dated neon green signs marked bays 1 to 8, that's all she could see from where she was standing but her employee documentation noted that there were fifteen bays in total. Certainly enough to keep racking up the overtime. Eyeing Bay 3 she adjusted her bag and began making her way through the foot traffic and cargo being distributed. Bay 3 was reasonably empty other then a few disinterested civilian people who congregated in the seats provided and rather large black bearded bald headed man who stood casually behind a perspex fronted hole in the wall. A small sign posted on the desk stating SERVICE DESK reaffirmed that this was where she needed to be. Adjusting her navy blue U.T.S Vallhalla cap which kept her mop of ginger hair under control for the time being, Altas strolled up the service desk and was met with a dry drawling "Can I help you?" His eyes lingered on her face a little too long clearly looking at her burn scars, although she was used to people staring at her it still made her a little uncomfortable on occasion. "Quartermaster Atlas Dassun.... I'm here to see Docking Chief Rudd" Atlas replied directly. The beard man sighed, he picked up his phone, tapped a few numbers and held it to his ear. After a few moments he spoke "I need the Chief........... Uhh some bird is askin for him... uhhuh... uhuh..... Yep, righto." He hung up the call "He's not here" "What do you mean he's not here?" Atlas exclaimed. "He's on leave, he left a few hours ago" "I was supposed to meet with him" "Not my problem honey" Atlas shuffled her feet sucking her bottom lip in frustration, she wanted to punch this guy's face in but that probably wouldn't be the best start her time on the station. "Look, did he leave anything for me then?" She questioned him. "I dunno, have to check wont I" With another huff he waddled over to a shelf filled with filling boxes "What's your name again princess". "Atlas Dassun" she spat back, annoyed. The clerk returned slapping a A4 envelope and room key onto the desk in front of her. Atlas held her tongue so all he got was a thanks as she scooped up her things and walked away. Atlas waited for the elevator to come to rest on the Promenade, she toyed with the set of keys she had been given, its small brass key ring embossed with the name Asimov Lounge and the number two on the back. Inside her envelope was a all the normal paperwork associated with the transfer and a hand written post-it note You're apartment isn't ready, still decontaminating... Room booked at Asimov. The doors opened to reveal the Promenade, Atlas stepped out and began walking down the lavish corridor. Atlas had enough of today's drama and all she wanted was a hot shower and a nice crisp beer. Passing by people through the square she gave the occasional smile, remembering the directions that an actual helpful vending machine repair man gave she walked past the fountain and statuesque clocks So much for a change of scenery she smiled to herself as they reminded her of home. Atlas veered around a large group what she thought were a bunch of off duty miners- in her experience they were always loud, brash and vulgar but always a helluva lot of fun. A few cat calls came her way but she shrugged them off. Finally she arrived at the a entrance of the Asimov Lounge.	-
6,439	177	2	1,150	9	“Dr. Brent Bradford” Pulling in to the docking port, a Gold plated limousine containing the rich and famous Brent Bradford starts to prepare for the departure of this spacecraft. He opens his briefcase and glances over it to see if all his money making drugs are there. He smiles at the medicine as he quickly closes his briefcase as his eyes melt into pure excitement for opportunities to expand his successful... Brent Bradford wakes up from his happy dreams, due to a small amount of wadded-up paper hitting his face. He shakes his head, his loosely-tied tie and a pool of drool are shaken violently away from him. He stops and tries to regain his vision after that tremor of a head shake. He opens his briefcase looking for his newly acquired pill case with one remaining pill. There's a note on the bottle stating what day he took the drug, to remind him in case the drug has made him forget short term memory subjects. Under the date is the name of the drug given by himself, deduced from studying the ingredients in the drug. This is so if he doesn't live to tell people this drug is deadly in the future, at least they will have a general idea on what this drug is. The last thing on the bottle is the safe combination written in a different language. He used to tell his friends it was full of all his possessions and riches, however in reality it contained his living will that only a member of his family could translate. He writes on the bottle: “cures mild cases of night terrors. side effects may include night sweats and drooling.” On to the next matter, who threw the paper at him? He looked around to find who had the guiltiest looking face. “Found you.” he whispers quietly to him self. He begins to stand up, just now remembering he was on a cheap transporter shuttle. Committed to make things even, he walks towards the thrower-of-papers, and grabs a clean handkerchief from his shirt pocket and hands it to him. He congratulates him for waking him up before he missed his stop, and hands him the handkerchief. “This magic handkerchief is a pass me down in my family from generation to generation, the kindness you have displayed just now is more than deserving to be family to me. I want you to have it. It's self cleaning and it is lemon scented”. This handkerchief is infused with a drug called “tetraphyline”. It just so happens to kill 100% of germs, and has a natural lemon like scent. However, what Brent failed to mention was one whiff of this certain citrus smelling drug causes intense sneezing. He turns around away from the gentleman and returns to his natural depressed state as he walks towards the ship's airlock. “Could've just asked if I was awake, jerk” he whispers under his breath. As the shuttle reaches the docking bay of the Tsiolkovsky Station, a slight gleam of hope awakes in the heart of the doctor, while job opportunities appear in his mind. He starts to smile... then it turns to a smirk. “wishful thinking”. Brent starts towards the bar, as is usually his tactic. Drunk people are honest about things. You can tell a lot about a man's problems when they are drunk. And if there isn't any one needing his assistance, he can slip a drink every now and then to help the day go faster. It's a win-win. He heads that way and arrives moments later. He goes in and orders a beer and goes to the comfiest looking booth, waiting for anything or everything. he takes small sips out of his beer and begins thinking. “Bring the sick to me” he says in his head as he begins to smirk. “I can cure it all”!	Name: Brent Bradford Race: Human Age: 37 Gender: Male Appearance: 6 foot, 205 pounds, tan human man. He has short black hair and matching goatee. Not the most muscular looking human, but not unattractive. Personality: Depressed, nicotine addicted, and deeply troubled booze-hound Skills: psycho analysis, former heavy-weight boxer and drinker, and professional healer Reason for Visit: Looking for job as a psychiatrist within the space station, and getting a few drinks while there. Bio: Brent was a normal human boy child from Mars who did nothing but go out of his way to help those who needed it. After time and time again of failing to impress complete strangers or help them with their problems, he decided to go to school to learn how to treat people of such illnesses involving the brain. Upon arrival of schooling, he was shocked to find out how much it would cost to learn such knowledge. But determined to treat those who needed him, he took up boxing as a way to help raise money. Learning the ins and outs of boxing and getting into the mind of the people he was fighting, he was able to become the heavyweight champion for a short time, earning the money he needed for school. Shortly after, he retired and proceeded to learn. 8 long years of schooling, he was handed a license to treat the unhealthy. Now he wanders searching for work becoming more and more depressed with every drink he consumes and every stop he visits that does not require his special services. Equipment: Hand-wraps, boxing gloves, a briefcase full of psych drugs and hallucinogens and a license to prescribe and treat those with both psych and health problems, a concealed switchblade pocket knife, grappling gun, pipe, and a fair bit of money from drinking contests Position applying for: Psychiatrist.
6,440	177	3	1,412	622	Traz Varak shoved the human he was carrying into a holding cell, dusting off his palms, and saying "Well, that's that. Enjoy your stay." with a smirk. The man, stumbling as he stood up, pounded on the energy field of the cell "Thish hic ishn't over Traz! You hic haf no proof!" "I dunno..." replied Traz, waving a beer bottle in front of the cell. "This and the ten others we found next to you say otherwise, that prostitute's story is just icing on the cake at this point." A device on Trak's hip beeped, signifying the end of his shift. He left the man in the cell with a smile and wave, and went to clock out and change... Walking through Main Street, Traz waved to those who recognized him, mainly shopkeepers and other officers. He shared a few passing greetings, Hi how are you, I'm doing fine, all that jazz. What he was really looking for, however, was his favorite place on the station: The Asimov Lounge. Walking into the Asimov, and sitting down at the bar, he greeted O'Brien with a wave and a smirk. "Hey there Dan. Could I get a thing of Bloodroot ale?"	Name: Traz Varak Race: Jekult, a lizard-like humanoid race, complete with scales(provide slight body armor), head crests, and a tail. They do not, however, need to bathe in heat to move, are capable of surviving on earth or earth-like conditions, and have established official contact with the United Terran States. Age: 50 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Traz stands at an imposing 6 feet 8 inches tall and has a large, well-built body. His scales are a light grey color, with a green crest of spines running across the top of his head. His face is elongated in a snout of sorts, though less pronounced due to his humanoid form. Personality: Sarcastic, gruff, very blunt. Tact and Subtly are things he outright ignores, preferring to tell someone off to their face rather than hide behind words. Skills: Fighting, Drinking, Shooting, having a smart mouth. He's good at his job, but his more blunt nature keeps him away from many promotions. Reason for Visit: He's a security officer(If this needs changed let me know) Bio: Formerly a mercenary hired to guard merchant starships, he got bored with the constant traveling, and wanted to settle down somewhere, but still wanted his skill-set to be useful. He remembered this station from his time traveling as a nice place to live, and signed up as a security officer. Equipment: His uniform, civilian clothing, and a pistol. Position applying for: Security Officer
6,441	177	4	1,063	170	O'Brien was an old hand at tending bar, and managed to have the house pretty well set up before the evening crowd started to mosey in. The chairs were off the tables, the jukebox was playing a jaunty old tune, and the glassware had just been double-checked before the first few customers started to arrive. Enter Atlas Upon passing into the lounge Atlas would notice, if she chanced to look back at the entrance she had just traversed, a large portrait of the man for whom the establishment was named: Isaac Asimov, an elderly human in old-fashioned clothes with exceptional sideburns. The bar was manned by a round, middle-aged human sporting a smart vest and a thin mustache, who was presently pouring a beer for a man who looked suspiciously like a vagrant with a top hat made of some shiny material (it may have been aluminum foil) resting squarely at the crown of his head. The barman looked up, realizing the presence of an unfamiliar face. He gave a jovial wave before calling out to her. “Welcome to the Asimov, miss! How about a dark and stormy? They're on special this evening.” His voice carried, but could not properly be called a yell. It was almost like an unusually loud stage whisper. His accent was rather unusual, being difficult to place. One might imagine he was an American attempting to affect an Irish brogue. Enter Dr. Bradford O'Brien pours a beer for the psychiatrist, nodding genially at the fellow. The fella didn't specify which kind of beer he wanted, so he ended up with some kind of wheat beer called Sprachbund. “This is a good'n. Here for a visit or are you staying awhile, stranger?” Enter Traz As the Jekult sat down the barman smirked. The officer had not been too long aboard Tsiolkovsky, but had quickly become a welcome regular at the Asimov. “Sure thing, Officer.” he began, picking up a glass and angling it under the tap while pulling the handle with his off-hand. “I'm just glad you're here for a drink and not to shut me down for the illegal card games I run in the back.” O'Brien chuckled softly, setting the now-filled glass of whatever-that-stuff-was-anyway in front of the security officer. “So how fares the thin blue line, Scales? Arrest any hooligans today?”	Name: Dr. Lena Koenig, Ph.D Race: Human Age: 53, looks 23 ((Because it’s the only pic I liked. I’m just gonna go with exceedingly strange research gone wrong, with a bad bit to it, as well.)) Gender: Female Personality: She loves his work, and is very protective of her patients, hence why she is often trusted with high-value patients, like important and/or famous people. She is rather jaded, and is prone to back-talk, but is at the core a good person, though not the nicest person on the station. It takes a bit to earn his respect and trust, but she is a great person to have as an ally, and she knows exactly how your body ticks, so, having him as an enemy doesn’t lead to a long and happy life, per say. Skills: A master physician, knowledgeable in many disciplines of medicine. Still strong, fit, healthy and spry even at his age. Knowledgeable in martial arts, though not a master, as well as being a god shot with pistols and rifles, including military grade. Highly intelligent, and is completely business in a time of crisis, treating in order of most to least likely to die. various other skills. Reason for Visit: Work/Immigration Bio: Early on, she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She had a solid childhood and education. When she left for higher education, she quickly discovered within herself a powerful wanderlust, a desire to see as much of the galaxy as she could, and planned for the future she envisioned as she studied medicine and xenobiology. In school, she made numerous friends, most from his focus, but she managed to pick up one or two friends, who were on the fringes of various cultures outside the norms, and she learned a lot from them, many things that her parents did not tell her of, and a few they specifically hid, as they sheltered her from the universe. Amongst these were talks of mercenary groups, paid to travel the galaxy and deal with problems that nations couldn’t deal with officially, leading into the next stage, and to the outright shattering of her ‘shell’… Where she decided that that is exactly what she wanted to do, and served as the combat medic for a squad of mercenaries for a number of years, thought to be almost a decade, though the exact number of years is unknown to all but those closest to her. She then went to graduate school and earned a Ph.D in xenobiology, and went on to become one of the galaxies best doctors, skilled in multiple fields of medicine. She has been known, however, to keep up with most of her friends and contacts, both old and new, from her time as a mercenary, and she likely (well, definitely) has enemies left. Enemies who want to kill her. During one of her tours of duty, one of her arms got blown off by a sniper, barely missing her chest. It was replaced by a top of the line Modular Limb Replacement, Combat Medic, Arm (MLR-CM/A), which she has heavily modified since, to include a whole manner of things, including weapons, enough of a medical kit to save a life, survival gear, and more, in various modules she can interchange relatively easily. On to present day, she heard that Tsiolkovsky station had an opening, and she decided that it was yet again time for a change of places, packed up, and left, leaving behind a sheet of paper on the now bare desk, with a single sentence saying goodbye, a clue as to where she had gone, and contact information for a quality replacement. Equipment: Medical Kit, contains data and high-quality equipment for the treatment of all races. Also contains numerous drugs, hence the declaration. Various licenses and diplomas, saying that he is indeed allowed to have all his cool toys. And, lastly, a comm unit, which looks like something more than just a comm unit to anyone who is especially good with technology. security would know that it isn’t harmful to the station. Her modified MLR-CM/A (Modules: Combat Medic, Survival, Escape & Evade, Search & Rescue, CQC, Defender) Position applying for: Chief Medical Officer
6,442	177	5	1,150	9	Before taking his seat: Brent replies "I'm here for job oppertunities. It may just be a visit, but if the clientele is good, I'll stay here until I can't afford to pay for my drinks". The troubled psychiatrist walks to his seat. After a moment of a nice calming envirement, the Doctor Hears the familiar bartenders voice and looks up to see him talking to a space-Lizard. "A Jekult?" He whispers to himself. Brent only knows a little about the Jekult from his boxing days. They were in a class all there own due to the amount of hits they could take. An opponent would lose all there stamina before having a successful, damage inducing hit. Few heavyweight boxers try every year to fight in the Jekult class, but are rejected due to the number of previous boxers that have died while boxing them. "Damn Lizards" Brent thinks. A little while longer passes and Brent finds that his beer has magically evaporated into thin air. After a brief moment of thought, he realized that he may have finished it awhile ago. Concluding that to be the case, he approaches the bartender once again and says, "can I get another of what I just had, please?" He reaches into his wallet and grabs some currency out of it and places it on the table. "This should cover this one and the last one", he thinks to himself, as he cautiously looks around for the Jekult completely forgetting there was one in the bar. While waiting for the bartender to bring him his drink, he quickly scopes out the place for any women who seem worth talking to.	Name: Brent Bradford Race: Human Age: 37 Gender: Male Appearance: 6 foot, 205 pounds, tan human man. He has short black hair and matching goatee. Not the most muscular looking human, but not unattractive. Personality: Depressed, nicotine addicted, and deeply troubled booze-hound Skills: psycho analysis, former heavy-weight boxer and drinker, and professional healer Reason for Visit: Looking for job as a psychiatrist within the space station, and getting a few drinks while there. Bio: Brent was a normal human boy child from Mars who did nothing but go out of his way to help those who needed it. After time and time again of failing to impress complete strangers or help them with their problems, he decided to go to school to learn how to treat people of such illnesses involving the brain. Upon arrival of schooling, he was shocked to find out how much it would cost to learn such knowledge. But determined to treat those who needed him, he took up boxing as a way to help raise money. Learning the ins and outs of boxing and getting into the mind of the people he was fighting, he was able to become the heavyweight champion for a short time, earning the money he needed for school. Shortly after, he retired and proceeded to learn. 8 long years of schooling, he was handed a license to treat the unhealthy. Now he wanders searching for work becoming more and more depressed with every drink he consumes and every stop he visits that does not require his special services. Equipment: Hand-wraps, boxing gloves, a briefcase full of psych drugs and hallucinogens and a license to prescribe and treat those with both psych and health problems, a concealed switchblade pocket knife, grappling gun, pipe, and a fair bit of money from drinking contests Position applying for: Psychiatrist.
6,443	177	6	2,338	426	Arnold's eyes shot open as he awoke, slumped over in his first-class seat. His head ached like someone had beaten him without mercy, and his eyes mourned the darkness of sleep. Even in his not so modest accommodations, (sponsored by his now voided company credit-chip,) spaceflight still ripped through his very essence and nearly tore him to shreds. Arnold was finally here, "Tsiolkovsky Station". Some nowhere station in the middle of nowhere space. The Mining Authority needed a new Foreman here, so instead of sending a capable veteran of actual mining...they sent a glorified businessman. Arnold was not pleased when he got the news. Arnold collected himself from his seat and grabbing his suitcase and his arm, (damn stewardess made him put it in the overhead bin because "it could be a distraction to other passengers"). He was one of the first to exit the shuttle, a much better deal then sitting all the way back in Economy-Class waiting half an hour. The station itself wasn't as horrible as he expected, but he wholly felt overdressed as he passed miners and space-folk alike. As he walked, Arnold popped in his prosthetic like he was slipping on a large metal glove. The device latched onto his arm and twitched into life, flexing every servo and joint to make sure nothing was damaged in the flight. He cracked his knuckles loudly as he joined his two hands together, ready to deal with whatever came his way. Arnold stepped up to Bay One, hoping to learn how he could retrieve his things. He swiftly learned that he need to go to Bay Six by a fifty-year old cow of a woman and that he need to talk to the "MA representative." He sighed, pushing of the woman's desk and walked all the way over to Bay Six were a younger sweaty gentleman sat staring into his terminal monitor. "Excuse me," Arnold greeted with the voice of an executive, "I'm from the Mining Authority and I'm trying to get ahold of my things. I've been transferred from Mars." The kid's eyes bolted up to Arnold, red with blood and cloudy with exhaustion. "Oh thank god you're here!," the rep comment as he wiped sweat of his forehead. "I've had different managers and people off-station contacting me all day making sure you got here on time. I've never been this worry about my job in my life! When do you get here?" Arnold looked around, puzzled by the reps crazed behavior and held back a mild chuckle. "Look, I just got here..." "Good! Good, ok. Look here's a key for a room at the Asimov. Not the best place on the station but it's cheap. Your apartment is undergoing sanitation right now after the...uh...loss of the former Foreman. Your first day is tomorrow, seven A.M. station time." "I'm taking the guy's place too?" "Yes! What are you stupid?" The kid's eyes grew wide, realizing what he had just said. "Sorry, sorry! Too much pressure for one day. So sorry!" Arnold took the key and raised his hands up, throwing an uneasy smile as he backed away from the rep. "It's fine kid," he lied as he backed away more and headed towards the Civilian Deck. Goddamn freakshow, he thought to himself. After a short lift ride to the Promenade, Arnold was on his way to the Asimov. The walk there was nice, with a fountain that almost looked like a cheap knock-off of the one back in Eos Central and some clocks that displayed the time to places no one probably cared about. A gentle mix of humans and varied alien-folk made up the majority of the people ahead of him, either giving him a strangle look for wearing a nice designer suit or his obviously mechanical arm. People preached unbiased respect for all, but put a guy with a robot arm in the room and people gets jumpy. At the moment the only thing Arnold wanted most was something so strong and vile that he'd forget the last forty-eight hours. That or some coffee. Maybe both? The entrance of the Asimov just smelt old fashion, designed to look like the type of place grandfather's grandfathers drank at and played pool. Too no ones surprise, it had an actual pool table. Along with that, a godforsaken jukebox sat in the corner pristine like they day it was manufactured. Arnold snickered to himself, amazed at the ends people would go for a classics vibe on a space station thousands of lightyears away from Sol. He took a seat up the the bar, dropped his newly acquired key and a wad of Terran currency. His tab for the night. He looked around and noticed the mustachioed barkeep, a reptilian Jekult, some other guy with an empty beer, and a cute red-head. Arnold would probably send her a drink later if she wasn't preoccupied. Nice to see that this station wouldn't just be a sausage-fest of miners.	Name: Arnold Kent Race: Human Age: 32 Gender: Male Appearance: Personality: - Charismatic. - Business savvy. - Womanizer. - Cheap Bastard. - Occasional Drunk. - Ruthless (If necessary.) Skills: - Genius Businessman. - Military Training as an Intelligence Operative. - Years of climbing up the ranks of the Mining Authority. - Information gathering. Reason for Visit: Corporate transfer from Mars due lose of former Foreman to "airlock failure." Not the promotion he was hoping for, but beggars can't be choosers. Bio: Born and raised on the now terraformed Mars under two wealthy parents working for the Mining Authority. Young Arnold hated the idea of working under the corporate thrall of Mining Authority and his parents. Joined the Terran military as soon as he could, hoping to escape from Mars and his family's hold. Picked up some business skills from his parents and found that he had a knack for negotiations and intelligence gathering. Was promoted to Intelligence Officer after further training and months on the ground working with military police. Only served a few years before his accident, an explosion of enemy fire during a negotiation gone south that cost many lives and Arnold's arm. Was honorably discharged and was given a PNP/1 Artificial Arm and Hand so he could go back to a normal life. With no other options left Arnold began working for the Mining Authority back on Mars without his families knowing. Started from a crappy desk job to nearly becoming a Senior Operations Manager, but sadly due to the lose of Tsiolkovsky Station's Forman Arnold was unceremoniously transferred and denied any chance of moving any further within the company. Livid at his sour luck, Arnold only hopes that this new job pays well and those nearest bar on station has enough booze to deal with his misery. Equipment: - PNP/1 Artificial Arm and Hand: Standard issue prosthetic for soldiers and operatives injured in the line of duty. Made entirely of space-age metals and connected to the wearer's nervous system. - One suitcase: Clothing, business shoes, personal smart-tablet. - One container: Several designer business suits. Position applying for: "I'm not applying for anything here you stupid piece of ! I'm replacing the Forman! Were the is the Cargo Hold and were the is the bar!"
6,444	177	7	1,412	622	Traz chuckled at the joke about illegal card games, saying "I couldn't shut you down, where would I get my drinks!?" Traz took a large gulp from his drink. “So how fares the thin blue line, Scales? Arrest any hooligans today?” O'Brien asked, and Traz was quick to reply. "Just Chuck from Maintenance. Again. Damn fool doesn't know when to stop with the 'women of the night', also had at least ten beers on him. He'll be spending a good bit of time in the drunk tank, probably get put on probation for the umpteenth time, and nothing will come of it...." Traz sipped his drink a bit before looking up to the Bartender. "Sounds like you have a customer to attend to. I'll be here when you get back."	Name: Traz Varak Race: Jekult, a lizard-like humanoid race, complete with scales(provide slight body armor), head crests, and a tail. They do not, however, need to bathe in heat to move, are capable of surviving on earth or earth-like conditions, and have established official contact with the United Terran States. Age: 50 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Traz stands at an imposing 6 feet 8 inches tall and has a large, well-built body. His scales are a light grey color, with a green crest of spines running across the top of his head. His face is elongated in a snout of sorts, though less pronounced due to his humanoid form. Personality: Sarcastic, gruff, very blunt. Tact and Subtly are things he outright ignores, preferring to tell someone off to their face rather than hide behind words. Skills: Fighting, Drinking, Shooting, having a smart mouth. He's good at his job, but his more blunt nature keeps him away from many promotions. Reason for Visit: He's a security officer(If this needs changed let me know) Bio: Formerly a mercenary hired to guard merchant starships, he got bored with the constant traveling, and wanted to settle down somewhere, but still wanted his skill-set to be useful. He remembered this station from his time traveling as a nice place to live, and signed up as a security officer. Equipment: His uniform, civilian clothing, and a pistol. Position applying for: Security Officer
6,445	177	8	218	293	The comforting scent of beer on tap and the cheerful bartender lifted her mood instantly. To be honest as much as she wanted a change of scenery it rather nice to be in an establishment with such a homely feel. Atlas sat her envelope and key on the bar before her and dropped her duffle bag on the ground, she took a seat on an empty stool at the nicely crafted timber bar. Atlas removed her cap and loosening her gingerbread coloured curls before retying back into a ponytail and smiling back at the sharp-dressed gentleman who welcomed her. She considered his offer for a rum laden cocktail, rum certainly was her preferred taste but it was never pretty and it usually ended with her doing the walk-of-shame with a wicked hangover the next morning. That will not happen tonight. "No thanks" she shook her head "Pint of pale ale if you have it though?" Atlas swivelled around casually to take in the vibe... And suss out her fellow patrons.	-
6,446	177	9	2,585	2,249	Drudging down main street was Spanner. A rude name really for one of the better engineer's on the ship. His slightly longer limbs making him stick out like a sore thumb. The lights beating down on him as he walked down the lanes, illuminating the shoddily made cobblestone streets. Stepping over the large holes that have popped up after one too many cart has been pushed over it. You would be shocked at what the technicians say they do to what they really do. Reminds him of a old mining ship that was rumoured to be many light years away from earth called Ruby Midget or something, had a radiation leak that killed all on board. The ship was famed for its lack of good technicians and engineers that flop like fishes. Anyway, there was rumours that the new doc had arrived, the new quartermaster had touched down and had a rough down with the man behind the desk and the new foreman had arrived after the last... incident that we don't talk about. Fresh from the engine bay was spanner. Covered in grease and grime from head to toe he was still on duty, going to fix the air vents in some of the shops. The bar happened to be on the list, scheduled for a check up. Would be fine to have a look in on ole' Dan's bar. Maybe he forgot about last time, man I hope he forgot about last time. I mean, he diddnt know it was his mother! Grumbling as he walked down the road, it wasn't even his job, the technicians should be doing this not an engineer, but because of annual leave they both left to get married! Now he has to spin a propel-la. Stepping into the room with his equipment looking at them all, each one more strange then the next, a scaled sheriff. A man with what seems to be one arm, whoever the man with the briefcase is and a redhead, poor bird. Has no idea what she walked into. "Hey Dan! Come to fix your vent!" when coming in the last thing he heard was "Pint of pale ale if you have it though?" looking to her, a smile on his face "Put it on me Dan, let the Kid have a free drink, call it a welcome to our little patch or hell." with that he walked past the bar and grabbed a ladder.	Name: Charles "Spanner" Richardson Race: Human Age: 35 Gender: Male Personality: Calm, slightly insane, Hard worker, Sense of humor Skills: Engineering, Reflexes, Witty retorts, Great at using whatever weapon he finds at hand, Reason for Visit: Work as an engineer, though he has been on station for a number of years Bio: Raised on a space station, he is what you would in all sense of the words. Be called a stashie, a stashie and proud of it. He has moved mostely from station to station finding work where he can as a engineer. On Omega station, on his 7th rotation he beat a man so hard they had to send him to beta station for help. At that point he was a wanted man. From there he took small shipper jobs in the engine room until he found this station where he hopes to live till he is grey. Equipment: Short range shock pistole. Money spanner, Blow torch, Screwdrivers, the usual tools on his belt. A small PDW type weapon strapped to his side Position applying for: Exsisting role of engineer
6,447	177	10	218	293	What an odd sort of patrons gathered around in the bar, her first impressions of the notable few that stood out- A strong set dark haired man with melancholic look about his as he drank his beer That guys needs a new hobby, a slick suited businessman who obviously had been through a similar tragedy regarding his arm as like her Trouble.... Businessmen are trouble. The her eyes fixated on the reptilian humanoid talking to the bartender on the other side of the bar. Atlas had never seen such a creature before, sure she had seen her fair share of space travellers but nothing like him, she stared at him for the longest time. Well... That's something you don't see everyday "Put it on me Dan, let the Kid have a free drink, call it a welcome to our little patch or hell." Atlas's attention switched to the lanky greased up tool boy that strutted in and hollered at Barman O'Brian, she blushed at him as he walked past "So are all the grease monkey's this easy to get a drink out of here?" She chuckled.	-
6,448	177	11	1,063	170	O'Brien raised his eyebrows, regarding the psychiatrist for a moment. His answer to such a simple question was rather vague, even cagey. The barman wondered briefly if the man was harboring some past secrets. Perhaps he was on the run from the law. Or maybe he was just that sort of man that feigned mystery in an attempt to seem more interesting. But, he figured, analysis was not really his job. “What's your line, then? Sales?” he asked, pouring another Sprachbund. Enter Arnold The barman set the drink on the counter before Brent as another unfamiliar face appeared. This one had a metal arm. A real weird crop of patrons tonight. As the newly-appointed Foreman entered, that Godforsaken jukebox began to play a new song, unbidden. Although the contraption was on the surface an entirely accurate mid-Twentieth Century reproduction, it housed a simple AI possessed of a crude facsimile of will and personality. It chose to play that song, though one might opine it had chosen that song a little late, or perhaps a little early. Dan glanced at the stranger, extending his arm to a friendly point, smiling thinly. He spoke informally, but politely, as was his wont. “Welcome to the Asimov, guy. M'name's Dan O'Brien, and I'm the proprietor of this establishment. Dark and stormies are on sale tonight, and we've got more beers on tap than any bar between here and Tau Ceti.” Whilst awaiting a response, O'Brien briefly returned his attention to the security officer. All he could do was nod and roll his eyes at the mention of Chuck. Charles 'Chuck' Cohen was something of a celebrity on Tsiolkovsky Station- a perennial troublemaker who presently held the stationwide record for most arrests. If he was just a little less proficient at his job, and the station a little less desperate for able hands, he would almost certainly have been forced out years ago. But he was a very accomplished drinker, and moreover an occasional patron of the Asimov Lounge. So, was he really so bad a guy? The barman certainly couldn't say so without at least a few minutes' consideration. Before he could do much in the way of considering, O'Brien first had to consider the young lady's request. Not that it was much of a puzzler. He had quite a variety of pale ales, and none too few on tap. He promptly came to a decision and picked up a glass, angling it beneath a tap and pulling the corresponding handle. “Here you go, pretty lady.” he began, quickly covering the few steps between them and setting the drink down before her. “This one's called Reinhardt Ambrée. French, I think. At least originally.” Enter Spanner He glanced toward the front door as Spanner, one of the station's engineers, called out to him. Something about the vents. Was there something wrong with them? Dan didn't know much about that kind of thing and, even though he was unaware of any such issues, reasoned that there could certainly be such a problem. Never mind that Engineering would certainly never waste a capable employee on anything not immediately life-threatening. “Yeah, uh...” he managed to utter, before the engineer kept talking. It seemed he wanted to buy the young lady's drink. O'Brien did not much care who paid for the drink- so long as someone did- but he really could not tolerate such unfortunate references to what was surely his favorite place in the Galaxy- Tsiolkovsky! Especially from somebody like Spanner. Sure, it was a little off the beaten path. It was perpetually understaffed. Rough and tumble sorts often passed through. And the safety protocols were woefully, occasionally even lethally inadequate. But still! It was home, dammit. “Now I hardly think there's call for that kind of talk, pal. This is a mighty fine space station. Never mind that its the only one for at least ten light years.”	Name: Dr. Lena Koenig, Ph.D Race: Human Age: 53, looks 23 ((Because it’s the only pic I liked. I’m just gonna go with exceedingly strange research gone wrong, with a bad bit to it, as well.)) Gender: Female Personality: She loves his work, and is very protective of her patients, hence why she is often trusted with high-value patients, like important and/or famous people. She is rather jaded, and is prone to back-talk, but is at the core a good person, though not the nicest person on the station. It takes a bit to earn his respect and trust, but she is a great person to have as an ally, and she knows exactly how your body ticks, so, having him as an enemy doesn’t lead to a long and happy life, per say. Skills: A master physician, knowledgeable in many disciplines of medicine. Still strong, fit, healthy and spry even at his age. Knowledgeable in martial arts, though not a master, as well as being a god shot with pistols and rifles, including military grade. Highly intelligent, and is completely business in a time of crisis, treating in order of most to least likely to die. various other skills. Reason for Visit: Work/Immigration Bio: Early on, she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She had a solid childhood and education. When she left for higher education, she quickly discovered within herself a powerful wanderlust, a desire to see as much of the galaxy as she could, and planned for the future she envisioned as she studied medicine and xenobiology. In school, she made numerous friends, most from his focus, but she managed to pick up one or two friends, who were on the fringes of various cultures outside the norms, and she learned a lot from them, many things that her parents did not tell her of, and a few they specifically hid, as they sheltered her from the universe. Amongst these were talks of mercenary groups, paid to travel the galaxy and deal with problems that nations couldn’t deal with officially, leading into the next stage, and to the outright shattering of her ‘shell’… Where she decided that that is exactly what she wanted to do, and served as the combat medic for a squad of mercenaries for a number of years, thought to be almost a decade, though the exact number of years is unknown to all but those closest to her. She then went to graduate school and earned a Ph.D in xenobiology, and went on to become one of the galaxies best doctors, skilled in multiple fields of medicine. She has been known, however, to keep up with most of her friends and contacts, both old and new, from her time as a mercenary, and she likely (well, definitely) has enemies left. Enemies who want to kill her. During one of her tours of duty, one of her arms got blown off by a sniper, barely missing her chest. It was replaced by a top of the line Modular Limb Replacement, Combat Medic, Arm (MLR-CM/A), which she has heavily modified since, to include a whole manner of things, including weapons, enough of a medical kit to save a life, survival gear, and more, in various modules she can interchange relatively easily. On to present day, she heard that Tsiolkovsky station had an opening, and she decided that it was yet again time for a change of places, packed up, and left, leaving behind a sheet of paper on the now bare desk, with a single sentence saying goodbye, a clue as to where she had gone, and contact information for a quality replacement. Equipment: Medical Kit, contains data and high-quality equipment for the treatment of all races. Also contains numerous drugs, hence the declaration. Various licenses and diplomas, saying that he is indeed allowed to have all his cool toys. And, lastly, a comm unit, which looks like something more than just a comm unit to anyone who is especially good with technology. security would know that it isn’t harmful to the station. Her modified MLR-CM/A (Modules: Combat Medic, Survival, Escape & Evade, Search & Rescue, CQC, Defender) Position applying for: Chief Medical Officer
6,449	177	12	1,150	9	Brent looks towards the bartender after receiving his drink, and responds. "I am a psychiatrist. I help those who have problems such as depression, night terrors, suicidal thoughts, abstract thinking, and anger management." He takes a sip of his beer and sits for a moment. He notices a younger looking lady with some discolored skin, but nothing too horrible-looking to say she isn't a pretty lady. She also seems to be getting a lot of attention from the rest of the members at the bar. "It would be foolish to try and start a conversation with her, she would think I'm just another drunk trying to buy her a drink." he says in his head. Brent sits and continues sipping on his beer. He thinks to himself, "This is beer number two. judging by the condition I was in, I should be able to have at least seven before getting too hammered. But perhaps I should try to stay somewhat sober, maybe even talk to the nice looking lady once the crowd dies out." He looks towards the bartender and asks, "So, get a lot of business around here?"	Name: Brent Bradford Race: Human Age: 37 Gender: Male Appearance: 6 foot, 205 pounds, tan human man. He has short black hair and matching goatee. Not the most muscular looking human, but not unattractive. Personality: Depressed, nicotine addicted, and deeply troubled booze-hound Skills: psycho analysis, former heavy-weight boxer and drinker, and professional healer Reason for Visit: Looking for job as a psychiatrist within the space station, and getting a few drinks while there. Bio: Brent was a normal human boy child from Mars who did nothing but go out of his way to help those who needed it. After time and time again of failing to impress complete strangers or help them with their problems, he decided to go to school to learn how to treat people of such illnesses involving the brain. Upon arrival of schooling, he was shocked to find out how much it would cost to learn such knowledge. But determined to treat those who needed him, he took up boxing as a way to help raise money. Learning the ins and outs of boxing and getting into the mind of the people he was fighting, he was able to become the heavyweight champion for a short time, earning the money he needed for school. Shortly after, he retired and proceeded to learn. 8 long years of schooling, he was handed a license to treat the unhealthy. Now he wanders searching for work becoming more and more depressed with every drink he consumes and every stop he visits that does not require his special services. Equipment: Hand-wraps, boxing gloves, a briefcase full of psych drugs and hallucinogens and a license to prescribe and treat those with both psych and health problems, a concealed switchblade pocket knife, grappling gun, pipe, and a fair bit of money from drinking contests Position applying for: Psychiatrist.
6,450	177	13	1,186	845	Zhen Lin Shi rose from her sleep abruptly as the transport ship lurched to a stop. The passengers that joined her on the eight-hour journey began to stir from their chairs as a tinny feminine voice announced that the ship had arrived at a place called Tsiolkovsky Station and repeated the message in Chinese. Zhen groaned at the mere thought of getting to her feet again. She had been traveling from station to station for the better part of a year now, and this last stretch had been one of her most pleasant traveling experiences by far. Arriving at a small trade way-point station deep in UTS space, she had done last-minute bookkeeping for a trader whose accountant took ill, and he had given her a substantial amount of money as payment, enough for a decent seat on a flight to this station and a good meal (a human delicacy called a BLT). She was harassed by a racist customs official for "looking too wealthy for what she was", but comparatively she would have still taken it over scrounging to get the cheapest flight on one of the older bulk passenger ships. Sure the leather seats on this flight weren't perfect, but compared to flying towards the back end of nowhere on a glorified cargo ship, the trip to this station was practically luxurious. Noticing the crowded line to the exit thinning, she delicately got out of her chair and began milling towards the exit, trying not to draw much attention to herself. Slowly moving towards the rear of the plan, she heard the telltale sounds of a customs official interview. Bracing herself for the worst, Zhen forced herself into a more dignified pose as she stepped off the ship. There were a couple of teams there, and she found herself directed to a gray-haired older man with striking resemblance to a Xiang vulture, assisted by a younger looking Asian official with short dark hair and a round face standing off to the side, who actually smiled politely at her when she approached. The vulture-like man, on the other hand, looked offended at everything about her, from her well-worn clothes to her blue-streaked tendrils. "Great, another one of these four-eyed punks," the official mumbled irritably. "You want to translate for this one, Chang?" "My name is Russel, Captain..." "I speak English fluently, sir," Zhen said respectfully. The vulture man looked briefly surprised at her sudden understanding of English before sheepishly returning his focus to his small datapad. "Name?" he demanded. "Zhen Lin Shi." "Search her bag," the vulture captain ordered his assistant. Shaking his head, 'Russel' stepped forward to look through the rucksack that Zhen handed him, while the captain asked a few more questions. She recited the details of her alternate persona flawlessly, thanks to months of practice. It didn't sit well with her to be so dishonest, but Zhen didn't want to broadcast that she was exiled royalty while she traveled along the galaxy. She didn't know if her uncle was still trying to catch her or not, but Zhen had no intention of making that job more necessary by drawing attention to herself. "...and your reason for visiting?" the captain finally asked her. "I'm looking for work," she responded. "You should talk to the barman at the Asimov Lounge, name's O'Brien," Russel interrupted, handing the rucksack back to Zhen unharmed. "Look for the big sign at the end of the promenade, can't miss it." "Right, you're free to go," the vulture captain said bluntly, still staring at the information on his datapad. "Welcome to Tsiolkovsky Station!" Russel continued brightly as his superior called for someone else to come over. Zhen bowed respectfully to both of them and scurried off, deeply relieved that the disembarking went easier then expected. Ignoring the overhead instructions directing passengers to the baggage claim area, as she already carried everything she owned, Zhen wandered around the docking bay before finding a lift in the back area and riding it until she reached a level designated as the civilian deck. Stepping off into the soon to be populated Promenade area, Zhen felt more optimistic then she had in a long time. Tsiolkovsky Station at a glance wasn't much different from any of the dozen or so spaceports she visited during her exile, but there was certainly something more inviting about this place compared to everywhere else. Zhen couldn't quite put her finger on what drew her to this station of all places, but as she looked at all the vendors and shopkeepers setting up for the evening rush, she couldn't help but feel that after so many days of wandering, going hungry, being harassed by xenophobes, and sleeping on hard metal surfaces, things were going to be okay. Finally, Zhen reached a set of large open doors with a sign overhead, reading "Asimov Lounge". The familiar sounds of an interstellar bar suddenly reminded her of how thirsty she was. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few leftover coins from the quick bookkeeping job at the last station. Thinking it would be enough to get a small drink once she talked to the 'O'Brien' who owned the Lounge, she stepped through the doors in her usual dignified manner, taking a moment to look around at all the strange ancient human curios, especially the physical pool table. The game had fascinated her the first time she saw it, and no matter where she went she always took the time to play a few games. She had gotten pretty decent at it too, and had won herself a meal on more then one occasion with a little craftiness. The chance to play on a real, physical pool table was extremely tantalizing, but Zhen restrained herself, promising to indulge once she found some employment first. Distracted from the strange crowd assembled at the bar, she took a seat at the far end, closest to the pool table she was admiring from a distance.	Name: Zhen Lin Shi (Zheng Xuobian) Race: Xianluon, a humanoid race with features most comparable to aquatic or amphibious animals. They commonly possess skin in shades of green and brown, an extra pair of arms, four large black eyes (two on each side), and a head of around eight to twelve thick tendrils in the place of hair, but are otherwise humanoid. While they prefer a wetter environment they are able to function in an Earth-like atmosphere. The Xianluon have made contact with the United Terran States, but they have not been culturally unified since their Empire went through a catastrophic collapse nearly a hundred years ago. Wealthy or well-connected Xianluon typically learn Chinese as well as English, which is phonetically similar to the Xianluon tongue and easier to translate between. Age: 20 Gender: Female Appearance: Zhen is thinly built and a little on the short side for her species, but she's tougher then she looks. Her skin is a mottled shade of forest green, her eyes are the typical color of black, and she has ten tendrils tattooed with thin streaks of blue. The tattoos are common among lower class Xianluons seen in space, but the empty piercing holes on the ends of her tendrils and her elegant posture betray her regal background. She also has faint scarring on her arms and back. Personality: Zhen tends to come across as meek and a bit neurotic, and she regularly struggles with depression and loneliness. She tries to be dignified and diligent in spite of her personal issues, and her quiet demeanor hides her true intelligence. She's also charming in her own little way and deeply empathetic, always happy to listen to someone's problems and do her best to try and fix them. Skills: Zhen has a superb education and is as fluent in English and Chinese as her own native tongue. She's good with mathematics and the sciences, a talented artist, and always eager and willing to learn new things. Zhen is also athletic and a good hand to hand fighter. Reason for Visit: She's a political exile, and trying to get as far away from her uncle as she possibly can. Bio: Zhen was born with the name Zheng Xuobian, and was in fact the crown princess and heir of the prominent Xianluon polity known as the Xuobian Kingdom. Raised in wealth and luxury, her mother passed away when she was young and her father spared no expense when it came to preparing his daughter for the rigors of ruling when it was time for her to take over. Sadly, political stability is a rarity in Xianluon society, and when her father refused to let a UTS corporation set up a mining operation on one of hid holdings, he was suddenly and mysteriously overthrown by his brother when Zheng was sixteen, never to be seen again. Unlike her just and honest father, Zheng's uncle was a greedy, cruel megalomaniac who ruled with an iron fist, and as the heir of the true king Zheng was cruelly mistreated for her refusal to support his rule. Eventually he decided that Zheng was better off dead then alive and made plans to execute her publicly, but she managed to escape her inprisonment with the help of some sympathizers and escaped into UTS space. Adopting a commoner name, she drifted from place to place for a while until she ended up at Tsiolkovsky Station, looking for a quiet place to settle down. Equipment: Zhen doesn't have much, just a few personal mementos, a couple of books, and a change of clothing in a rucksack. Position applying for: She would like to work at the Asimov Lounge or one of the other store fronts. Anywhere where she can help. :)
6,451	177	14	2,585	2,249	Looking over at the red head "Notice how I am the only one that sent you a drink. Everyone else in this bar happens to have their balls up there arse!" pointing to the array of colourful characters. "Note as the room slowly turns against me, much like a time I was in a fight on Baxter 12. Technicians and Engineers fought against the admin team and the security. That was how I got my name I think, 'spanner' from when I grabed a spanner and knocked out the Chief of security!" he laughed at this as he pushed his cart through the bar "Infact unless I am mistaken you remind me of someone. Cant rember who, but someone none the less" chuckling and giving a smile he walked on. Getting to the fan he pulled the grate off and started working on the mechanism. Such a shame that these things break all the time, the station should get better technicians. Ones that did there job and turned up on time. Any way, memorys of a fruit cake and all that. Hitting the command modual once the fan started going. Clunking and grinding but moving. Sealing the vent he hoped off the ladder "And for my services Dan, I would like whatever my lady freind is having! She can pay for this one!"	Name: Charles "Spanner" Richardson Race: Human Age: 35 Gender: Male Personality: Calm, slightly insane, Hard worker, Sense of humor Skills: Engineering, Reflexes, Witty retorts, Great at using whatever weapon he finds at hand, Reason for Visit: Work as an engineer, though he has been on station for a number of years Bio: Raised on a space station, he is what you would in all sense of the words. Be called a stashie, a stashie and proud of it. He has moved mostely from station to station finding work where he can as a engineer. On Omega station, on his 7th rotation he beat a man so hard they had to send him to beta station for help. At that point he was a wanted man. From there he took small shipper jobs in the engine room until he found this station where he hopes to live till he is grey. Equipment: Short range shock pistole. Money spanner, Blow torch, Screwdrivers, the usual tools on his belt. A small PDW type weapon strapped to his side Position applying for: Exsisting role of engineer
6,452	177	15	1,412	622	Sipping his drink, Traz grumbled to himself as Spanner walked into the bar, and immediatly began flirting with the closest woman. Traz never did like Spanner, amazed at his ability to gloat about himself and insult everyone around at the same time. When Spanner started yelling about everyone's balls and commenting about how everyone would turn against him, Traz yelled out "Just fix the damn fan already!". Spanner eventually did, and asked for drink, commenting that the woman he bought a drink for should pay. "What happened Spanner? Run out of enough 'Gentlemanly Charm' to pay for your own drink? Leave the poor girl alone, and maybe I WON'T give the next UTS ship that passes by a call, huh?" Traz called out at him, a fang-filled smirk upon his reptilian face.	Name: Traz Varak Race: Jekult, a lizard-like humanoid race, complete with scales(provide slight body armor), head crests, and a tail. They do not, however, need to bathe in heat to move, are capable of surviving on earth or earth-like conditions, and have established official contact with the United Terran States. Age: 50 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Traz stands at an imposing 6 feet 8 inches tall and has a large, well-built body. His scales are a light grey color, with a green crest of spines running across the top of his head. His face is elongated in a snout of sorts, though less pronounced due to his humanoid form. Personality: Sarcastic, gruff, very blunt. Tact and Subtly are things he outright ignores, preferring to tell someone off to their face rather than hide behind words. Skills: Fighting, Drinking, Shooting, having a smart mouth. He's good at his job, but his more blunt nature keeps him away from many promotions. Reason for Visit: He's a security officer(If this needs changed let me know) Bio: Formerly a mercenary hired to guard merchant starships, he got bored with the constant traveling, and wanted to settle down somewhere, but still wanted his skill-set to be useful. He remembered this station from his time traveling as a nice place to live, and signed up as a security officer. Equipment: His uniform, civilian clothing, and a pistol. Position applying for: Security Officer
6,453	177	16	1,150	9	Bingo Seeing the disturbance arise, Brent knew that this would be a great place for business. Brent ponders to himself, "The engineer, a somewhat unpleasent fellow, has caused a reaction in the Lizard. Was it something he said, or something he did. Or Perhaps the Lizard has never been a fan of him. Which would mean the Lizard comes to the station often, or he may even work here. He is obviously an officer of the law, It would make sense if he worked here. The Lizard could be a nice client. Law enforcers see some terrible things causing night terrors, which turns into insomnia, which causes depression, which could lead to anger issues. The engineer might be good for business too tho. Working day in and day out. One of the most important job with a station full of ungrateful savages. He probably works his heart out and hardly ever gets the gratitude he deserves. His "thank you's" comes in the form of a paycheck, but never from the people's mouth. Not being recognized as an important person can sometimes cause depression, and in his case, could turn into alcoholism." Brent knew that he could easily stop this situation, but letting it continue would help him gather more information about the two men. Perhaps a rebutle by the engineer is necessary. However stopping it now would keep the chance of violence at a low. Without a concrete plan in mind, Brent called out across the bar, "Splinter, was it? If you need a drink, i'd be happy to buy a few for you. I was just thinking to myself it was getting a little warm in here, but now that the vent is fixed, it feels great. Let me pay for your next couple drinks as my appreciation." Brent motioned for the engineer to come on over to the section of the bar he is sitting at.	Name: Brent Bradford Race: Human Age: 37 Gender: Male Appearance: 6 foot, 205 pounds, tan human man. He has short black hair and matching goatee. Not the most muscular looking human, but not unattractive. Personality: Depressed, nicotine addicted, and deeply troubled booze-hound Skills: psycho analysis, former heavy-weight boxer and drinker, and professional healer Reason for Visit: Looking for job as a psychiatrist within the space station, and getting a few drinks while there. Bio: Brent was a normal human boy child from Mars who did nothing but go out of his way to help those who needed it. After time and time again of failing to impress complete strangers or help them with their problems, he decided to go to school to learn how to treat people of such illnesses involving the brain. Upon arrival of schooling, he was shocked to find out how much it would cost to learn such knowledge. But determined to treat those who needed him, he took up boxing as a way to help raise money. Learning the ins and outs of boxing and getting into the mind of the people he was fighting, he was able to become the heavyweight champion for a short time, earning the money he needed for school. Shortly after, he retired and proceeded to learn. 8 long years of schooling, he was handed a license to treat the unhealthy. Now he wanders searching for work becoming more and more depressed with every drink he consumes and every stop he visits that does not require his special services. Equipment: Hand-wraps, boxing gloves, a briefcase full of psych drugs and hallucinogens and a license to prescribe and treat those with both psych and health problems, a concealed switchblade pocket knife, grappling gun, pipe, and a fair bit of money from drinking contests Position applying for: Psychiatrist.
6,454	177	17	218	293	Atlas thanked O'Brian and took the frosted glass. She took a sip, the delightfully cold beer was already going down smoothly. She did expected some sort of retort from the glorified fix-it man at her friendly dig at his profession though the sudden outpouring of confidence from the lanky man caught her by surprise, raising an eyebrow as he proudly spoke of how he received his nickname. Wow! Real winner of a place you picked here Atti She rolled her eyes before turning directly to him "Spanner huh?" Looking him up and down deliberately, something about him rubbed her the wrong way. He was obviously a few years older than herself and wasn't exactly unattractive but certainly not her particular style. Atlas thought back trying to place his face as he spoke of her being familiar to him, she had done a few station rotations in her career like most of the people in her line of employment but she couldn't place his face and that irritated her. A smirk crept onto her lips as she heard the reptile man demanded Spanner to get to work, Atlas turned away and reached into her pocket retrieving her credit card, she slid it towards O'Brian with a thanks as Spanner began tinkering with fan. Atlas made a mental note to gain access to the personal files on her first shift tomorrow for curiosity sake. A few more patrons came and went as Atlas quickly finished her beer, business was obviously good tonight for the bar, captive market really. A Xianluon that had entered caught her eye, a little shorter than the ones she had dealt with before but intriguing none the less, Atti was always fascinated by their skin such beautiful original colours and patterns covered each creature and she had never met any two that were exactly alike. And for my services Dan, I would like whatever my lady friend is having! She can pay for this one!" Spanner called out. "What happened Spanner? Run out of enough 'Gentlemanly Charm' to pay for your own drink? Leave the poor girl alone, and maybe I WON'T give the next UTS ship that passes by a call, huh?" the reptilian called out again, there was clearly some animosity between the two patrons by the sound of his voice. The a third party chimed in "Splinter, was it? If you need a drink, i'd be happy to buy a few for you. I was just thinking to myself it was getting a little warm in here, but now that the vent is fixed, it feels great. Let me pay for your next couple drinks as my appreciation." It was quiet dark haired fellow on the far side of the bar. "There you go, looks like there's you won't be short tonight" she quipped at Spanner. Atlas relaxed a little more and motioned to O'Brian for another glass.	-
6,455	178	0	1,555	729	An unassuming summer day in a quaint little town, that's all it was to Hitomi. Life had been roughly the same for her ever since she took over her foster father's book store. The sign on the front of the building read "Sato Books", not the most imaginative name but it stood out among the others since it was plastered in big red kanji. The store itself was at the end of the second busiest road in town but most people passsed it by. The age of reading books was slowly giving way to the internet where people had access to limitless amounts of information at a single click. As the only book store left in town she still recieved a modest amount of customers each day, although most of those were only interested in the Manga section which had grown to twice it's original size since she introduced it shortly after being given ownership. As the second story was a modest living area with all the essentials Sato Books was also her home. It was rather convenient actually, she only had one set of bills to manage and her morning commute was only a flight of stairs. Hitomi loved this store, it was the only thing left of her family that still remained. She learned a few years ago that both of her biological parents had died in a car accident while on vacation in Osaka. Despite the years of abuse she endured they were still family and so the wounds cut deep. The day dragged on with only the occasional customer wandering in to pick up an order or browse the latest manga. Some might look at her life as boring but she actually rather enjoyed the peace and quiet that came with slow business, it gave her time to catch up on her own reading. Given that she didn't actually have any friends Hitomi had read just about every book in her store. It was a sad thought actually, but at least she could recommend books for her customers. Reading was her outlet, it let her explore vast new worlds far from the grief and troubles of her mundane existence. She often found herself reading romance novels with heroes braving unimaginable odds in the name of love, sadly she never expected for anything like that to happen to her. Most of the town new about the freak book store owner and only tolerated her because she owned the only bookstore in town. No one ever seemed to take an interest in her and only gave empty gestures of kindness. She was different and she accepted that. Despite her isolation she never gave anyone anything but a feeble smile. After all, it was pointless to make enemies since they already saw her as an outcast. Later that day she had a pair of customers who lingered in the store for an unusually long time. Hitomi recognized one of them was clearly from out of town. They kept glancing over at her as if trying to discern some kind of secret from here. She decided to let them be and simply wait for them to take their time browsing. No need to cause a stir since they weren't actually doing anything wrong. Eventually they came up to the counter. The one she didn't recognize spoke up first. "This is the one you were talking about right? I can't tell." He was talking to his friend about her but she wasn't sure what he meant. The other spoke. "Yeah this is him, the ladyboy." The words cut like a knife. Did they really have to talk about her while she was right there? They continued among themselves while ignoring her. Hitomi tried her best not to seem upset but her smile was gone. "Pretty hot for a dude. You sure you're not messing with me?" The other retorted. "I'm serious man, she's a he." Hitomi wanted to them to leave but she didn't want to antagonize them. "Uhm... Can I help you find a book?" The newcomer looked at her in surprise. "Holy crap he even sounds like a girl!" After that they both laughed and left the store. Later that week the two returned but this time they were much more bold. "Hey ladyboy! I bet you like it from behind right?" Hitomi couldn't bring herself to acknowledge them. She just wanted them to go away. "Hey bitch, I asked you a question!" They were getting louder and she wasn't sure what to do. She couldn't go anywhere to get away from them and it was obvious they weren't going anywhere either. Before she could say anything they had gone behind the store counter and pushed her against the wall. "Hey take it easy man." one spoke to the other clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Shut up you pansy. No one's gonna miss this freak." Her heart skipped a beat. What was this man going to do to her? The saddest part was that she believed him. Would anyone miss her if she disappeared? Her family had all passed away and she had no extended family or siblings. No one at all. The one pinning her to the wall spoke up. "If you wanna be a girl so bad why don't I show you what it's like to be a real girl?" This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening! She had to get away but how? The other one was starting to play along. "Yeah okay. Let's show her what it's like." Hitomi started to panic and managed to break free but instead of running on to the street where others might have seen her she instinctively ran for her bedroom and tried to lock the door behind her. The two of them were tight behind, however, and forced their way in. "Stay away!" She pleaded but neither of them seemed to care. They pushed her onto the floor and she started grabbing at anything in reach to throw at them. She came across a hard cover book and threw it with all her might at her attackers landing squarely on the closest one's nose. "Oww, you bitch! I was gonna show you a good time but now I'm gonna teach you a lesson!" Without hesitation the closest one swung at her, punching her solidly in the cheek. The punches continued and Hitomi was less and less coherent each time. The entire experience was traumatic. Hitomi simply froze, unable to resist any further. She kept getting weaker and barely let out an apology "I'm sorry." The beating continued and she could feel her face being cut from the sheer force of the blows. The second attacker seemed to have had enough and tried to pull the other off of her. "That's enough man, take it easy!" They began fighting each other instead until one of them had gotten knocked into a wall. Hitomi was in a lot of pain and bleeding on the floor so she couldn't tell much of what was going on. She heard a loud crash and then her attackers seemed to both stop. "Oh shit man let's get out of here quick!" Hitomi was too weak to get up and look around but she recognized the sound of her smoke detector and soon after the smell of burning wood. She struggled to get up but could only muster enough to look around with her already bloodied vision. She knew what was happening. Somehow the two of them had started a fire in her house, it was starting to get hard to breathe and noticeably hotter. Eventually she could hear the flames roaring around her as she slowly lost consciousness. She knew this was the end. Hitomi lay there half awake and accepted her fate as her world burned down around her. Somehow sometime later she awoke feeling groggy as if she had simply gone to bed. What was going on? Oh that's right, she died. Did that mean she was in heaven? Looking down at herself her clothes were black charred remnants of what she had been wearing that day. She supposed that, and the fact that she remembers how she died was proof enough that she was dead but then, she didn't feel like a dead spirit. Or did she? Hitomi realized that she was breathing. Do spirits breathe? She touched her face and she felt real enough. She could even tell that she was slightly hungry. Stranger still was the fact that she didn't seem to be in any pain and all of her old scars seemed to have disappeared as well. All of this made her question what was going on. She wasn't sure what to make of it all. She took a moment to absorb her surroundings. She was situated sitting and leaning against a wall of what appeared to be an unusually sparse apartment living room. There weren't any chairs in the room or any kind of seats for that matter, in fact the only objects of any significance in the room was a large metal crate of some kind about a meter tall and wide situated near the far wall. On top of the odd looking crate sat a Toshiba laptop, it looked like a new model as well. Then there was the fact that she wasn't alone. Scattered about the room were a handful of different people. Two of them were women and looked like foreigners, the other was a man and clearly Japanese. Behind her to her right led to the front door of the apartment, behind her on her left was a door that she could only assume led to the main hall as there were no other doors in the living room area. On the wall to her right she could see two sets of windows that could see out into the city. Although Hitomi couldn't see it from where she was sitting if someone were to look out the window they would see the Tokyo Tower in the distance. Uncertain of what to do Hitomi simply sat up and watched as the others seemed to be waking up as well. Maybe one of them might have some answers about what was going on.	Name: Yamada Ryota Alias/es: Sato Hitomi Age: 22 Height: 153cm (4'11") Weight: 53kg (115 lbs.) Complexion: Pale, Asian Pacific Eye Color: Dark Brown Hair Color: Auburn Apparel: Casual blouses, jean shorts, and short skirts mostly, occasionally wears summer dresses in the hotter months. Personality: Hitomi is not exactly friendly but always very polite. Having been treated as an outcast for most of her childhood led to a fear of conflict and strong personalities. She tends to err on the side of caution and rarely speaks up unless she's spoken to first. Her anti-social behavior is deeply rooted in a past history of abuse and as a result she greatly values the acceptance of others. History: Sato Hitomi was born as a young boy named Yamada Ryota. Her parents, Yusuke and Akane, were very happy to have had a son but it wasn't long until they realized that their son was different. It started with simple things. Ryota would prefer colors like pink and yellow, sometimes trying to put on girl's clothes. Her parents thought nothing of it at first, believing it to be an oddity or 'just a phase'. Soon after little Ryota had turned six he started asking to dress like a girl and refused to wear the clothes meant for boys. Little Ryota started to make proclamations that he was in fact a she. Her parents were unable to cope at first and saw fit to punish such brazen behavior with spankings. After all, spare the rod spoil the child, no? Little Ryota only cried louder until her parents finally gave in and allowed their son to dress as their daughter, if only to bring an end to the constant tantrums. At this point Hitomi was the only name she would answer to. Her father Yusuke reluctantly complied in public but at home things were very different. Her father regularly 'punished' his daughter for being 'impure' and a disappointment while her mother merely watched and did nothing. Hitomi suffered through the abuse at home and was forced to keep her identity a secret. No one could know that Yamada Yusuke's daughter was once his son. Hitomi was allowed to go to school as a girl although she was not formerly recognized as such by the school itself. The staff chose to play along in order to avoid any awkwardness. Most of the students were unaware of anything out of the ordinary, aside from her mysterious bruises which appeared from time to time. For a while Hitomi lived her life in public without any complications and was actually becoming a rather beautiful young girl despite the constant abuse she suffered at home. At the age of 14 Hitomi had begun to work part-time at a book store in order to pay for Hormone Replacement Therapy, which allowed her body to develop as a girl. Later in her first year of high school there was an incident that changed her life. A new trend of pranks had been going around where boys would invade the girls bathroom and take pictures of them on the toilet. Hitomi had unfortunately been a victim of such a prank which led to the discovery of her male genetalia and the news spread across the school like wildfire. It wasn't long before the bullying started and soon after that her parents got word of what was happening at school. This only made her father more furious with her and increased the severity of his 'punishments'. After a few months of being treated like trash at home and at school Hitomi finally decided to drop out of school and was summarily kicked out of her home for doing so. Having no where else to go she pleaded with the book-store owner Sato Hiroshi to take her in and so he did. They lived together until Mr. Sato, who was already well into his seventies at the time, had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Now that Mr. Sato was dying he saw fit to give everything to the only family he had. Hitomi took his name and was granted ownership of the book store "Sato Books". She has since lived her life alone running her book store. Other:
6,456	178	1	1,220	545	My good Imam the topic is whether or not a god is needed for the universe to exist. Arielle said into the microphone. She was standing at a podium across from the Imam of a local Mosque. The stage was very barren, as a debate need few props. The audience was mostly the followers of the Mosque, though there were a good number of people of other faiths as well. She had initially not wanted to take the debate, after all his Mosque was very extremist and her coworkers had noted that it could be dangerous. Arielle had just laughed and said they were over reacting, religion may make people violent but never in a public debate surrounded by security. Even they weren't crazy enough to try a stunt on tv. Pointing a blackboard covered in mathematical equations Arielle continued "As you can see according to quantum physics particles do jump from plane to plane, appearing as if they appeared out of nowhere." "Who is to say Allah did not cause this to happen" Interrupted the noticeably annoyed Imam "Well just think about it" Arielle replied with a smug smile "According to you Allah is required because every event must have a cause correct?" The Imam nodded and Arielle continued "What then caused Allah to exist? Your scenario requires an unending number of creators to each cause the initial cause. You have claimed in the past that Allah has just always existed, but why not simply say the universe has always existed? Ocam's razor requires us to make as few assumptions as possible and I only require an assumption infinity is impossible, whereas you require many more beliefs..." Before Arielle could finish her statement she stopped dead as a man in the front row, dressed in Saudi robes, jumped up on the stage with a nine inch knife in his right hand. Arielle screamed loudly but before she could do any more than flinch the bearded man had reached her, and plunged the knife deep into her stomach. She felt the cold steel shredding her body as warm blood poured from the opening, excruciating pain erupting and bringing stars to her eyes. She pushed back from the man, and managed to break his grip, just to fall on her back. The whole crowd seemed to have begun to riot, blocking security as the supporters turned on the other side. Her followers trying to run to the stage and the opposition attacking them in turn. Before anything else could register the man was on top of her, pinning her between his legs. With a shriek she struggled but was soon cut off by the force of the knife slitting her throat open, followed by repeated stabs into her chest and stomach. The overwhelming pain filled her thoughts as she struggled against the heavyset man. She could feel the weight of the man start being lifted, and through her cloudy vision made out a uniform. But that would be the last thing she would ever see, as she bled out on the floor she blacked out... and her heart gave one last thump. ____________________________________________________ Grogginess filled Arielle's head as her mind began waking. Her mind struggled like an old car trying to start, thoughts starting but never becoming coherent. Suddenly the fight came to her mind, the blood, the pain the man she sat up straight with a shriek. Looking up to fight the man but didn't see him. All she saw was a living room. She blinked slowly as if trying to process what happened. 'Was it a dream?' she thought Looking down she could see her blouse was horribly shredded, and stained bloody but no wounds could be seen on her body. Not even a scratch. "I don't understand it" She said to herself "How is it possible for my clothes to be destroyed but my body fine?" She touched her stomach and could feel only the smoothness of the skin. Leaning back in silence she stared at the ceiling, pondering this riddle, and not even noticing anything around her as she was lost in her own thoughts. Debating with herself over the merits of different ideas ranging from comas to PTSD, because she knew the pain had been real but other than that she couldn't understand it and wouldn't' stop until she did.	Name: Arielle Bellemont Alias/es: Arie Age: 26 Height: 5' 8" Weight: 135 Lbs Complexion: Alabaster pale Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Brunette Apparel: As pictured above, except she is wearing full length skinny jeans. She does not believe in luck, but always keeps a pocket emergency kit in her purse and a copy of "The God Delusion" Personality: Analytical to a fault she overthinks everything, often getting lost in her own thoughts in the process. She really is kind hearted, and wishes people the best, but her serious personality can make her hard to work with. Sarcasm and abstract humor go over her head, and as a result she can take offence where none was meant. Or even worse she tries to be funny but it comes out wrong and offends those around her. As a result she tends to speak more formally than the average person, hoping her words have the appropriate meaning to the person she is talking to. Though she does look down on the religious as "thoughtless" she can still be professional and fully cooperate with them. Most of all though she loves being right and will correct people without invitation. History: Arielle was born in Osaka to a loving mother and an abusive Evangelical father, both originally from France. At age 2 her mother ran away, taking the young Arielle with her. By age 4 her mother had settled down with a new lover, a woman named Narumi (or as Arielle called her "Mimi"). These women are the only family she ever remembers and for this she is very glad, but knowledge of her father's abuse and repression of her mother gave her a hatred of religion. A natural student she always got high marks in school and would spend her free time reading all sorts of books. Despite being at best middle class somehow her mothers both ensured that their daughter had all the books she could ever want, which meant her tiny bedroom resembled a library with a small bed in it. In high school she discovered her two true loves, genetics and debate. Even while keeping up he grades she took part in the debate team, though she never won any awards. Her junior year her name became well known in Japan when she published an open letter to a Catholic Cardinal, and the story took off in the media. The letter was outright blasphemy and accused the Catholic church, point blank, of preventing social progress and hypocrisy, using genetics to attempt to disprove Adam and Eve among other things. The scathing letter earned her a fair number of haters, but also attracted colleges that wanted a bright mind that was highly motivated. Senior year she accepted an offer from University of Tokyo for a full ride scholarship (in exchange for her majoring in genetics and working for the department for 6 years after graduation). Through college she started accepting invitations to debates with various people, with some even becoming televised affairs. Her love of debate, and being right, kept her on this path and eventually she became a well known speaker for the atheist community. The past several years since graduation have been rather simple, she works at the university to try and isolate the genes that cause cancer and spends her weekends doing debates with many officials over religion. An abrasive figure to say the least she met her match at a debate in her new home of Tokyo. During a televised debate with a Muslim cleric and extremist from the crowd charged the stage, slit her throat and stabbed her 36 times before security managed to restrain him. She bled to death on live tv, the woman that dared to challenge the world. Other: She always kept a basic emergency kit in her purse (about the size of two Altoids tins) and pepper spray.
6,457	178	2	215	1,683	Alexandria Graveson walked to her next classroom, class 3-A. It was her most enjoyable class, by far. While some of the first and a few of the second-year students didn't care as much, the Third-Year students had found their motivation in life. They were studying furiously for Final Exams here, and Entrance Exams at their universities of choice. She knew of at least two of the kids that she had inspired to go study at colleges abroad, even if they weren't necessarily in America. International experience was one of the most fulfilling things that a person could go through. She knew from personal experience. Smiling as the students rose as she entered the room, they all greeted her with a bow. Bowing back, she said, "Good morning, class!" Placing her binder and folders on the podium at the front of the class, she said, "I hope you've been studying hard, because the Final Exams are next week!" The students let out an audible groan, but it was good-natured. They knew that Alexandria, their teacher, was doing the best that she could to teach them. Taking a stick of chalk, she wrote the assignment for today on the board, and pulled out a copy of Chaucer, and began reading. "Nowhere so busy a man as he than he, and yet he seemed busier than he was..." ------------------------------------------------------- The second bell was about to ring, when the sliding door to her classroom was slammed open, revealing a ratty-looking man, who stumbled in. He had long hair, an unkempt beard, and fingerless gloves clasped a rusty knife. Alex's eyes widened as he started towards the first student in the row, Ogyu Ayame, a beautiful young girl, with a life of promise ahead of her. Shouting, "NO! GET BACK!", she pulled on the man from behind, and they stumbled towards the window. She had almost pushed him all the way towards the glass, when he whipped around, knocking her back. The students were moving now, trying to come and help. She shook her head and screamed for them to get back, and gasped when the blade slashed across her stomach, causing blood to pour. The tip of the knife came down again, sliding through her collarbone, and piercing her heart. Standing, through sheer force of will, in one last titanic movement, she shoved the man through the glass, shattering it, and causing him to fall to the courtyard below, body broken. Alex then fell to the floor, curled up in a ball, blood pooling in the corner of the room. She saw her students, horrified, stand there for a second, and then rush towards her at once. When they got to her, she was already limp, eyes wide, a gentle smile on her face. Her last action was to offer her students a chance. --------------------------------------------------------- Alex gasped, coughing, and held a hand to her chest. Rubbing her forehead, she looked around, wildly. Didn't she... die? Looking herself over, she saw two bloodstained cuts in her clothing, one just above her left breast, and the other across her stomach. She had felt the cuts. She had felt the pain. So why was she here? Staring at the room, she wondered, where was she? Spying a laptop in the middle of the room, on a crate, and seeing two other women, and one man, she lurched forward, stumbling in disbelief. Was this heaven? If so, it kinda sucked. Going up to the laptop, she tried to get a glimpse of what was on the screen, and see if she could contact someone, anyone from the school. Maybe her coworkers could tell her what happened.	Name: Alexandria Graveson Alias/es: Alex Age: 23 Height: 5'1" Weight: 103 lb. Complexion: Caucasian, yet slightly tanned. Eye Color: Red contacts, naturally Green. Hair Color: Red. Apparel: Usually business casual, but when she arrived in Japan, she started wearing hoodies and jeans as well. Personality: Alex is brash, loud, and generally opinionated. This doesn't mean that she's not introspective, and does appreciate others' input. She is just too quick to react to think about what she's saying, and feels guilty if she hurts someones' feelings, or makes a situation worse. History: Alexandria was born to a single mother in Juneau, Alaska, a young woman, altogether too young to have the responsibility of raising a child. Alex's early years were that of loneliness for hours on end, while her mother was out working. Left alone, without any guidance, Alex was raised by the television screen, watching every program voraciously. One day, Alex's mother brought home a man, deep tan, tousled hair, defined chin, the works. At first, he seemed nice. He was polite, did most everything around the house himself, didn't ask for anything from Alexandria's mother. However, he hated Alex, and what she represented. After her mother married him, they began to argue. Loudly. One time, the local police department was called in by neighbors, to break up what they suspected to be a fight. However, there wasn't anything out of line, and they couldn't do anything, even if they did feel sympathetic towards the now-teenager, who was alone in the world. Soon after, she was kicked out of the house, at age 17, after a particularly bad fight, with both of her parents this time. As she was shoved out of the house, few belongings tossed out after her into the snow, she saw that neither her mother, nor terrible stepfather had any regrets about abandoning her. So she picked up her things, and left, walking alone down the city streets, at night, no less. The neighborhood that they lived in was up towards the mountain, so suffice to say, if wasn't the best. On the way to no place in particular, while she was wondering what she would do, she was attacked, man stealing all of her money and belongings, leaving her battered, and lying in the snow. Curled up, Alexandria just waited to die. Everything was complete crap, he life, her family, and now she had literally nothing but the clothes on her back. That was, until Jane, daughter of the sheriff of the city, found her, while walking home from a party, with her group of friends. Taking her to her home, she quickly reached out to the girl who had lost everything, the two becoming the best of friends. Jane's father, mother, and younger brother all accepted her as one of their own, and tried to make up for those lost years of childhood. For her last year of high school, Alex was happy. Her parents, as she had come to see them, came to hers and Jane's graduation, cheering loudly for their daughters. Jane went onto medical school, becoming the finest doctor in all of Alaska. Alexandria, however, took a wildly different path, instead going to school to become an English teacher in Japan. While Jane wanted to make a difference at home, Alex wanted to travel the world, and make a difference in other's lives. With a teary farewell, Alex left, flying the 14 hours to a country so radically different than her own, she was actually shaking in anticipation, and nervousness. When she landed, she was greeted by a high-school principal, who was the one who had hired her, upon her graduation. Happy, Alex was slightly put off by the student's sheer apathy, but she still strove to be the best teacher they all had, in their neighborhood of Kabukicho. One day, a crazy man found his way into her classroom, waving about a knife. A he was about to stab the first student, Alex pulled the knife towards her, away from her beloved students. Stabbed through the heart, she managed to live for a few seconds, enough to shove the gunman out of a window. Collapsing on the floor, bleeding, she looked upon her students with a smile. They were all safe.
6,458	178	3	827	308	Sitting on the desk, Takeda simply stared at the ever-familiar wall. Pictures of faces littered the board, some Japanese, other not. Strings wrapped around nail connected various pieces of information all around. It all formed a frenzied web of connections and crimes spanning half the world. All sorts of men and women, from Kingpins to street hustlers, had their face plastered on the wall. Now all that was left to do was to find these monsters, and put them away in their own, lovely, barred cells. It was as if the huge weight on Takeda’s shoulders had gotten lighter, yet heavier at the same time. They had all the evidence they needed to take down a huge arm of international drug trade, and they had already put away a few key members, but now, they had a massive fight ahead of them. It could take months, years even, but in the end, it would all be worth it. “Time to go home, detective.” A groggy voice from behind Takeda spoke. He turned to see his partner, Matsumoto, trench coat slung over his shoulder, ready to leave the office. Takeda turned back to the information board once more, and took a deep breath, standing from the desk. Takeda took his coat from his desk, and slung it over his shoulder in a similar fashion as Matsumoto, and walked towards the exit, his partner at his right. “Get some sleep, Hitoshi. The hard work is over, now comes the hard part.” Matsumoto said to his partner, a tired smile stretch across his face. “Yeah, I know, just… it’s important to me, you know?” “I get you, Hitoshi, it's important to everyone at the office, but you’re working yourself to death. Just relax a little bit, eh? Take it easy, rest a bit. The next few weeks aren’t going to exactly be the easiest.” “I hear you, I hear you.” Takeda said, giving into his friend. “Listen to what I said.” Matsumoto said, his hands on Takeda’s shoulders. Matsumoto gave Takeda one last pat on the shoulders, before he began walking in the opposite direction. Takeda sighed, and turned to walk his own way to find his car among the many in the dark parking garage. Thankfully for Takeda, his car was always parked in the same spot, next to the corner of the entire lot. Taking the keys out of his pocket, he pressed the lock button, with the lights and horn on the car following suit and flashing once, helping Takeda find his car. Finally reaching the car, Takeda walked around the side to reach the driver’s side, when a weight pressed on his back, and his knees buckled. Someone had pinned him to the car, and before he could react, had pressed a rag to his face, restricting his breathing to inhaling the fumes the radiated from the rag. He held his breath, and his arms rushed to his hip to pull his .38 special revolver, scrambling to move his coat out of the way of the holster. Before he could do so, his entire body was yanked backwards, as his assailant had pulled back and landed back first on the ground. Takeda frantically tried to elbow his way away from his assailant, but his lungs could handle it no longer, and he finally took a deep breath. Quicker than he expected, a sudden dizziness had hit his body, and his squirming and fighting began to weaken. Another set of hands had come in and restricted his hands, and gave him a good kick to the side, knocking the breath out of him. Takeda tried to scream, but as soon as his mouth opened, the chloroformed rag was stuffed in his mouth, and a hand found his nose, and pinched it tightly shut. The strength was being sapped from him with each excruciating second that passed by. His fighting and kicking turned into weakened wiggling and weak pulls on his assailant’s hand. Quickly, his eyelids became heavy, and without really realizing it, he had finally passed out. (Horizontal rule/line) When Takeda finally came to, his surroundings hadn’t changed much, except now, he could tell he was bound, bound to a chair. The darkness surrounding him was no longer the product of a lack of sun, but of a sack covering his eyes. Never in a million years would he have thought he would’ve been kidnapped, not by criminals, not anybody. But when he thought about the work he had doing, it only made sense. “What do you want from me?” He called weakly out. He could hear some shifting in the room, and could sense a few bodies move towards him. “He’s finally awake, it’s about time.” A threatening voice said from the void in front of him. From the echoes of the sounds and stillness of the air, Takeda felt like he was indoors, a warehouse most likely. He lifted his head to the level it would normal be at, feeling his binds out. His wrists and ankles were bound tightly, with his torso very tightly tied to the back of the chair.Trying to escape, obviously, would be useless. Suddenly, as if to interrupt his thinking, the sack on his head was yanked off, and his surroundings were revealed. They were in the bathroom of his apartment, they must’ve snuck him in while it was still dark. In front of him stood Chomei Saji, a target pinned as an important head in the Yakuza. There were two other men who Takeda did not recognize next to him, all dressed in business suits. Chomei reached in his pocket, and pulled out Takeda’s phone, putting a finger on the screen and sliding it across, revealing the passcode screen, showing the screen to Takeda. An oddly happy smile was his face, as if he was trying to comfort Takeda. Takeda chuckled. “You’ll get nothing from me, Saji.” The smile faded, and turned into a confused, nearly offended frown. “Ohh, Hitoshi, I mean no harm. I simply want you to call in sick. I’d hate for you to get in trouble with your employers. Put the code in.” Takeda let off another slight chuckled, his gaze falling towards his lap. “Eat shit, Saji.” Saji let out a chuckle of his own. “I don’t think he heard me, Tanaka.” The man to Chomei’s left simply nodded and advanced, landing a vicious punch to Takeda’s face, following up with another unforgiving hook. The blows came one after another, each just as jarring as the last, until Takeda’s mouth and nose both flowed freely crimson, and his face had a few cuts. The man stood back, shaking off his shivering hands, which were equally bloodied. Chomei spoke up. “Now, come on, Hitoshi. We wouldn’t want to hurt you anymore, eh? Just give me the code so we can make the call.” Panting and spitting blood all over his shirt and pants, Takeda took a shaky look up, with some hair stuck to his face by the blood. “Fuck you, Seji. I know you, I know what you really want. You’ll have to pry it from my dead hands you son of a bitch.” “Ah, but see, that’s the thing. I already have everything I want. I won’t be prying anything from anyone, but…..You’re expendable, Hitoshi. I was simply hoping that you would be smart. You would’ve been a great detective, Takeda” Takeda spit at the disrespect, a bloody globule of saliva landing on the velvet leg of Chomei’s pants. A stinging blow blindsided Takeda, and he let out a yell of pain and anger. “I’m feeling abnormally merciful today, Hitoshi. Give me the code, and you might live. Or...have it your way.” “I was never like you, Seji. I’ll never be like you. You’ll have to kill me first.” Takeda panted, the blood on his face beginning to dry and pull on his face. “As you wish, Hitoshi. Such a shame. You would’ve made an even better Yakuza.” Before Takeda could respond, a bar came from behind, roughly finding its way under his chin, pressed hard on his chin. His heavy breathing became rasping, struggling wheezing as the baton laid its pressure on his throat. Chomei produced a knife from his pocket, moving forward, grabbing Takeda’s now swelling face. He forced Takeda to look forward, straight into his dark, near black eyes. No remorse, nor mercy were to be found anywhere in them. Chomei let got for a moment, only to punch Takeda across the face, and continued to come with punches one after the other until Takeda was battling to stay awake. Hands found their way to Takeda’s mouth, forcing it open, with Chomei’s handing making it’s way in, grabbing his tongue. Chomei shoved his knife in Takeda’s mouth roughly stabbing into his tongue, with Takeda’s begging to weakly shake and struggle under the pain, which grew greater as Chomei began to roughly slice it’s way across. Blood poured from Takeda’s mouth, and all over his pants and shirt, as well as Chomei’s. Takeda’s who had been trying his best to remain silent, finally clenched his jaw, and began to bellow at the pain. Chomei retracted his hands, and began another flurry of punches, until Takeda could barely keep his head up, and simply whimpered. The excruciating operation finally ended, and Chomei simply tore the tongue the rest of the way out, with Takeda letting out another great bellow. With the tongue tossed aside, Chomei sunk his knife into Takeda’s abdomen, which was now rising and falling more weakly than before. Using all his strength, he pulled the knife down, tearing flesh and organs alike. Takeda gaged through his weak crying, letting out another weak yell as the knife was roughly yanked from his gut. The bar was moved, and Takeda, too weak to hold his head up, let it fall, with the blood from his butchered mouth spilling out on his lap. Instead it was forced up, again with Chomei’s hand. He took another hard look into Takeda’s watery, bloodshot eyes, before forcing and holding his head up, facing the ceiling. Takeda felt the sharp sting of the knife blade dig it’s way into his throat, and across his neck, a flow of warm blood falling down his neck, wetting the collar of his shirt. The hand left Takeda’s chin, and his head fell, limp. The pain was overwhelming, and the bleeding was too fast. The blood on Takeda’s face mixed with tears. He simply sat, tears and blood dripping, as he could barely hear the men leave the room, slamming the door behind them. As his vision blurred and darkened, and his ears began to fill with white noise, thoughts began to fill his head. His parents, sobbing at his funeral. Matsumoto, stuck with a new partner that was fresh out of academy. Chomei and his lackeys ransacking Takeda’s apartment, all of his worldly possessions, tossed about in Chomei’s thirst for any information he could get on the case. He thought of himself, how they would find him. Covered in his own blood, disemboweled and tongue cut out of his mouth, tossed aside as if it was some piece of rubbish. What a state to be found in. He could hardly find the energy to keep his eyes open, and the hole in his throat kept him from getting his precious oxygen, and keeping him from whimpering anymore. His eyes finally shut, and his entire body fell limp. His eyes shot open again, and a huge breath entered his lungs. He shot up from his position sititng on the floor, and backed up into the corner of the room, taking huge, gasping breaths. His hands shot up to his throat and mouth, searching for all his wounds. His tongue? Still in his mouth! His throat? Completely sealed! His abdomen? Free from any wounds! His clothes were still soaked in blood, his shirt different shades of dried crimson. Wasn’t he dead? Where was he now? His head shot up, and he saw three women all looking at him, their eyes nearly as wide as his was. Next to one was a large metal box, a laptop on top. “What is this? Who are you all?” He frantically questioned. “I-is this purgatory?” The Japanese fell out of his mouth, but the others continued to stare at him. He then noticed that two of them looked to be American’s, white women. The other one, on the other hand, actually looked like she was Japanese like him. He pointed a blood stained hand at her. ‘You! Where are we, who are these other women?” He nearly screamed. He fell to his knees, praying silently to himself. “Oh God, I know I haven’t been the best follower...well, I haven’t followed you at all, but you must let me into heaven, please! I haven’t sinned, I was a good man, a good man doing good things. Please rescue me from this purgatory!”	Name: Takeda Hitoshi Jr. Alias/es: Tack, Age: 27 Height:5’9 Weight: 175 pounds, or 79 kilos Complexion: Standard, Asian Tan, or ‘yellow’ if you will, complexion Eye Color:Dark brown Hair Color: Black Apparel: The coat and such in the above picture, but with the normal black pants and dress shoes. Off duty, he’d wear various colors of t-shirts and many kinds of shorts. Personality: Takeda can manage to, most of the time, change his personality to suit the situation. Most of the time, Takeda will be quiet and very observative, taking mental notes of certain quirks and quips of the people and places that surround him. He can do a good job handling his temper, and not many things can solicit an emotional response from him. That’s not to say he’s some sort of emotionless robot, but in his line of work, he’s learned to focus more on what needs to be done versus what needs to be felt. Even with all his training, Takeda can sometimes still lose his composure in stressful situations, but it isn’t an extremely common happening. He doesn’t tend to let his guard down around others, and doesn’t get very attached to anyone very easily. He’d rather know people better than they know him. Takeda tries his hardest to be fair and logical most of the time, but he’s still human, even if he doesn’t allow himself to be. When dealing with criminals, on the other had, Takeda has a habit of losing his cool very quickly. History: Takeda was born in the bustling Tokyo prefecture of Japan. Takeda was a summer baby, born on a beautiful, sunny day in June. His parents were the normal, trope-esque pair of hard working Japanese people, his father a beat cop and his mother a triage nurse. His infancy and childhood could be considered the perfect upbringing for a new, Japanese urbanite: calm and nurturing, with loving parents who wanted nothing more than for their little son to grow up and be the best that he could be. Even with their busy and unpredictable work hours, Takeda’s parents did their best to always be there for their child, making sure he never felt alone or uncared for in the crazy world. Always full of stories to tell about wacky and scary encounters on the job, Takeda’s father was probably the biggest influence on the young boy’s ambitions, and he decided fairly early that he wanted to help the community and join law enforcement, following in the footsteps of his father. It wasn’t until his high school years that Takeda’s quaint life received its first huge shake up. Takeda Sr. was on call to a domestic assault call, when in the process of looking for a weapon, he found a large amount of drugs in the house. When he questioned the owner of the house, it quickly got violent, with the two men engaging in a fist fight that ended in Takeda Sr. being stabbed multiple times, and the owner of the house being shot to death by the back-up officers that arrived on scene. Takeda Jr. found out through his mother, who was the nurse on scene when Sr. made his way into the ER. The injuries were severe, but not life-threatening. Takeda Sr. would spend a few weeks in recovery, before it was found that the man that was killed was an important middle man in a large drug trade linked to cartels in Mexico and the Yakuza there in Japan. Seeing the hero that was his father stricken so weak and injured at the hands of criminals angered Takeda greatly, and eliminated any doubts he had about joining law enforcement. He wasn’t just going to be a police officer like his father was, he was going to join the Criminal Investigation Bureau and go a step farther to eliminate the drug trade in his area, to keep anyone from facing what his family faced, or worse. After high school, Takeda headed straight to the university to study Criminology, and as soon as he had his 4 year, Takeda applied for the CIB Academy, and went straight into training for his dream job. The months of hour upon hour of training and drilling were some of the best months in his life, meeting fellow agents that had similar experiences to his, dealing with the negative effects of crime and those who committed it. Once he finally made it, Takeda went straight to work following leads on the drug trade in the area of his home prefecture and it’s connections to the rest of the world, especially to the United States and Mexico. As the Bureau got deeper and deeper into this dark underworld, it became more and more obvious that they had exposed a drug operation much larger than the likes they had seen in Japan ever before. This case could make history in all of Japan, and he was one of the biggest players in it, even at such an inexperienced state. He had already made his family proud by going beyond their accomplishments and being a detective in the CIB, so that was the lest of his worries now. The only thing that mattered to him now was dismantling organized crime in Tokyo, and then in Japan. By now he's spent a few years knee deep, and he loves it. Other: Can’ think of anything.
6,459	178	4	1,220	545	The shouting of a man pulled Arielle out of her head, and made her sit up with a jolt. She hadn't noticed before but there were a couple of other women and one very upset man that appeared to be trying to pray and hold back tears at the same time. She let out a sigh of frustration and looked at the room around her. It was clearly a normal apartment, and she could even see Tokyo outside. 'Best focus on the present. I'm sure there is a logical explanation for this, but for now I need to focus on getting out of this mess' She thought to herself "You know that isn't going to help anything, right?" She said to the man kissing the carpet "Whichever god your praying to obviously doesn't care since he/she let you get into this." She paused for a moment to let her point sink in "It looks like we were all kidnapped" She said thoughtfully "So you have two choices. Either keep asking the floor to forgive you, or get up and help me figure out what is going on and better yet how so save our own asses." Arielle stood up and stretched her limbs, popping several joints loudly in the process. She turned to the other girls and said "well at least you all have some common sense. I'm going to check out the doors and windows, maybe they can be broken. If you guys could check the other rooms we might find something useful." Turning her attention to the front door she reached for the door handle, but was stopped a few inches from the door. Perplexed she tried again, this time running her hand up and down the invisible blockade. 'Some kind of condensed energy that appears to have no light variations' she thought in confusion. After trying the windows and getting the same results she leaned against the wall and thought to herself, pondering the implications of her discovery.	Name: Arielle Bellemont Alias/es: Arie Age: 26 Height: 5' 8" Weight: 135 Lbs Complexion: Alabaster pale Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Brunette Apparel: As pictured above, except she is wearing full length skinny jeans. She does not believe in luck, but always keeps a pocket emergency kit in her purse and a copy of "The God Delusion" Personality: Analytical to a fault she overthinks everything, often getting lost in her own thoughts in the process. She really is kind hearted, and wishes people the best, but her serious personality can make her hard to work with. Sarcasm and abstract humor go over her head, and as a result she can take offence where none was meant. Or even worse she tries to be funny but it comes out wrong and offends those around her. As a result she tends to speak more formally than the average person, hoping her words have the appropriate meaning to the person she is talking to. Though she does look down on the religious as "thoughtless" she can still be professional and fully cooperate with them. Most of all though she loves being right and will correct people without invitation. History: Arielle was born in Osaka to a loving mother and an abusive Evangelical father, both originally from France. At age 2 her mother ran away, taking the young Arielle with her. By age 4 her mother had settled down with a new lover, a woman named Narumi (or as Arielle called her "Mimi"). These women are the only family she ever remembers and for this she is very glad, but knowledge of her father's abuse and repression of her mother gave her a hatred of religion. A natural student she always got high marks in school and would spend her free time reading all sorts of books. Despite being at best middle class somehow her mothers both ensured that their daughter had all the books she could ever want, which meant her tiny bedroom resembled a library with a small bed in it. In high school she discovered her two true loves, genetics and debate. Even while keeping up he grades she took part in the debate team, though she never won any awards. Her junior year her name became well known in Japan when she published an open letter to a Catholic Cardinal, and the story took off in the media. The letter was outright blasphemy and accused the Catholic church, point blank, of preventing social progress and hypocrisy, using genetics to attempt to disprove Adam and Eve among other things. The scathing letter earned her a fair number of haters, but also attracted colleges that wanted a bright mind that was highly motivated. Senior year she accepted an offer from University of Tokyo for a full ride scholarship (in exchange for her majoring in genetics and working for the department for 6 years after graduation). Through college she started accepting invitations to debates with various people, with some even becoming televised affairs. Her love of debate, and being right, kept her on this path and eventually she became a well known speaker for the atheist community. The past several years since graduation have been rather simple, she works at the university to try and isolate the genes that cause cancer and spends her weekends doing debates with many officials over religion. An abrasive figure to say the least she met her match at a debate in her new home of Tokyo. During a televised debate with a Muslim cleric and extremist from the crowd charged the stage, slit her throat and stabbed her 36 times before security managed to restrain him. She bled to death on live tv, the woman that dared to challenge the world. Other: She always kept a basic emergency kit in her purse (about the size of two Altoids tins) and pepper spray.
6,460	178	5	827	308	The Japanese words in a voice other than his make Takeda's head jolt up to see who was speaking to him. To his surprise, it was one of the foreign looking women. She spoke in a rude tone, dismissing Takeda's praying as illogical, acting as if he was some sort of idiot. Taking a few breaths, Takeda's did feel so stupid for putting on such a display, it was unusual of him. He stood up, pulling his sticky shirt out of his pants and buttoned the few buttons that hadn't been cut through. "Look, lady. Before I opened my eyes just now, I was being disemboweled, and had my throat slit. Now, I wake up, and all of it's gone? If any thing, I'd say it would be a god showing a bit of mercy on me, but, even if there isn't some sort of god over us, something beyond our power is going on. I assume all of you were killed too?" He said. Takeda had recognized the woman who spoke to him. Some sort of outspoken anti-theist. He'd be the first to admit he wasn't religious, but such people like her often rubbed him the wrong way. Takeda turned his head to the laptop that another of the two women had tried to interact with. He walked over, trying to touch it. He pressed a few of the keys, and ran a finger over the trackpad, but nothing happened. He tried pressing the power button, but, still, no response. He tried to lift it up, but it would not budge off of the metal box. His attention then turned to said box, which appeared to bolted shut on every side, no latches or openings. He stood up straight, hands on his hips, and turned to look out of the windows. He could see the cityscape of Tokyo stretched out beyond the windows, but nothing else of interest. He tried to lay a hand on the window, only to find it had a force field around it, just as the door did. He tapped a few times, but it felt harder than anything could be, obviously not breakable. "Well, whatever put us in here, obviously doesn't want us to leave yet." He said, his vision glued to the city.	Name: Takeda Hitoshi Jr. Alias/es: Tack, Age: 27 Height:5’9 Weight: 175 pounds, or 79 kilos Complexion: Standard, Asian Tan, or ‘yellow’ if you will, complexion Eye Color:Dark brown Hair Color: Black Apparel: The coat and such in the above picture, but with the normal black pants and dress shoes. Off duty, he’d wear various colors of t-shirts and many kinds of shorts. Personality: Takeda can manage to, most of the time, change his personality to suit the situation. Most of the time, Takeda will be quiet and very observative, taking mental notes of certain quirks and quips of the people and places that surround him. He can do a good job handling his temper, and not many things can solicit an emotional response from him. That’s not to say he’s some sort of emotionless robot, but in his line of work, he’s learned to focus more on what needs to be done versus what needs to be felt. Even with all his training, Takeda can sometimes still lose his composure in stressful situations, but it isn’t an extremely common happening. He doesn’t tend to let his guard down around others, and doesn’t get very attached to anyone very easily. He’d rather know people better than they know him. Takeda tries his hardest to be fair and logical most of the time, but he’s still human, even if he doesn’t allow himself to be. When dealing with criminals, on the other had, Takeda has a habit of losing his cool very quickly. History: Takeda was born in the bustling Tokyo prefecture of Japan. Takeda was a summer baby, born on a beautiful, sunny day in June. His parents were the normal, trope-esque pair of hard working Japanese people, his father a beat cop and his mother a triage nurse. His infancy and childhood could be considered the perfect upbringing for a new, Japanese urbanite: calm and nurturing, with loving parents who wanted nothing more than for their little son to grow up and be the best that he could be. Even with their busy and unpredictable work hours, Takeda’s parents did their best to always be there for their child, making sure he never felt alone or uncared for in the crazy world. Always full of stories to tell about wacky and scary encounters on the job, Takeda’s father was probably the biggest influence on the young boy’s ambitions, and he decided fairly early that he wanted to help the community and join law enforcement, following in the footsteps of his father. It wasn’t until his high school years that Takeda’s quaint life received its first huge shake up. Takeda Sr. was on call to a domestic assault call, when in the process of looking for a weapon, he found a large amount of drugs in the house. When he questioned the owner of the house, it quickly got violent, with the two men engaging in a fist fight that ended in Takeda Sr. being stabbed multiple times, and the owner of the house being shot to death by the back-up officers that arrived on scene. Takeda Jr. found out through his mother, who was the nurse on scene when Sr. made his way into the ER. The injuries were severe, but not life-threatening. Takeda Sr. would spend a few weeks in recovery, before it was found that the man that was killed was an important middle man in a large drug trade linked to cartels in Mexico and the Yakuza there in Japan. Seeing the hero that was his father stricken so weak and injured at the hands of criminals angered Takeda greatly, and eliminated any doubts he had about joining law enforcement. He wasn’t just going to be a police officer like his father was, he was going to join the Criminal Investigation Bureau and go a step farther to eliminate the drug trade in his area, to keep anyone from facing what his family faced, or worse. After high school, Takeda headed straight to the university to study Criminology, and as soon as he had his 4 year, Takeda applied for the CIB Academy, and went straight into training for his dream job. The months of hour upon hour of training and drilling were some of the best months in his life, meeting fellow agents that had similar experiences to his, dealing with the negative effects of crime and those who committed it. Once he finally made it, Takeda went straight to work following leads on the drug trade in the area of his home prefecture and it’s connections to the rest of the world, especially to the United States and Mexico. As the Bureau got deeper and deeper into this dark underworld, it became more and more obvious that they had exposed a drug operation much larger than the likes they had seen in Japan ever before. This case could make history in all of Japan, and he was one of the biggest players in it, even at such an inexperienced state. He had already made his family proud by going beyond their accomplishments and being a detective in the CIB, so that was the lest of his worries now. The only thing that mattered to him now was dismantling organized crime in Tokyo, and then in Japan. By now he's spent a few years knee deep, and he loves it. Other: Can’ think of anything.
6,461	178	6	215	1,683	Alex pressed a key, but nothing happened. That's when the shouting happened. She whipped around, staring at a man, dressed like a detective. The only difference from the normal uniform and his was that his clothing was slashed and bloody. He kept asking whether this was purgatory. Disturbed, Alex frowned. If anyone had to ask that question, it probably wasn't. But she wasn't about to say anythin- oh look. That Anti-theist who was debating all religious groups in Japan. While she was effective at getting the man off of his feet, she did it with a particularly heartless way. "You didn't have to say it like a bitch. We're all dead here." She didn't believe in God, or gods, if you were Shinto, but she respected other's beliefs. Narrowing her eyes, Alexandria said, "I was slashed across the gut and stabbed by a foot-long knife in the heart. I can't think of any scenario that a human being comes out of that alive." Raising her eyebrows at the 'common sense' bit, she laughed. Hands shaking, but with a look of determination in her eyes, she said, "You have no idea how much I am considering breaking down and curling into a ball right now. I. Am. Freaking. Terrified. I don't know where I am, I don't know if my students are safe, I don't know how I'm here." As the detective poked around the room, going to the laptop first, she said, "Doesn't work. I tried." Listening to everyone speak, she walked up to where the Detective was, and stared out over the city, Tokyo Tower clearly visible. She whispered, "Minato..." She turned to the detective, eyes lit up with the triumph of discovery. "Kabukicho is on the south side of Shinjuku! We're not far from where I.... died." Her eyes fell at this, but she still held an air of triumph about her. She had figured it out.	Name: Alexandria Graveson Alias/es: Alex Age: 23 Height: 5'1" Weight: 103 lb. Complexion: Caucasian, yet slightly tanned. Eye Color: Red contacts, naturally Green. Hair Color: Red. Apparel: Usually business casual, but when she arrived in Japan, she started wearing hoodies and jeans as well. Personality: Alex is brash, loud, and generally opinionated. This doesn't mean that she's not introspective, and does appreciate others' input. She is just too quick to react to think about what she's saying, and feels guilty if she hurts someones' feelings, or makes a situation worse. History: Alexandria was born to a single mother in Juneau, Alaska, a young woman, altogether too young to have the responsibility of raising a child. Alex's early years were that of loneliness for hours on end, while her mother was out working. Left alone, without any guidance, Alex was raised by the television screen, watching every program voraciously. One day, Alex's mother brought home a man, deep tan, tousled hair, defined chin, the works. At first, he seemed nice. He was polite, did most everything around the house himself, didn't ask for anything from Alexandria's mother. However, he hated Alex, and what she represented. After her mother married him, they began to argue. Loudly. One time, the local police department was called in by neighbors, to break up what they suspected to be a fight. However, there wasn't anything out of line, and they couldn't do anything, even if they did feel sympathetic towards the now-teenager, who was alone in the world. Soon after, she was kicked out of the house, at age 17, after a particularly bad fight, with both of her parents this time. As she was shoved out of the house, few belongings tossed out after her into the snow, she saw that neither her mother, nor terrible stepfather had any regrets about abandoning her. So she picked up her things, and left, walking alone down the city streets, at night, no less. The neighborhood that they lived in was up towards the mountain, so suffice to say, if wasn't the best. On the way to no place in particular, while she was wondering what she would do, she was attacked, man stealing all of her money and belongings, leaving her battered, and lying in the snow. Curled up, Alexandria just waited to die. Everything was complete crap, he life, her family, and now she had literally nothing but the clothes on her back. That was, until Jane, daughter of the sheriff of the city, found her, while walking home from a party, with her group of friends. Taking her to her home, she quickly reached out to the girl who had lost everything, the two becoming the best of friends. Jane's father, mother, and younger brother all accepted her as one of their own, and tried to make up for those lost years of childhood. For her last year of high school, Alex was happy. Her parents, as she had come to see them, came to hers and Jane's graduation, cheering loudly for their daughters. Jane went onto medical school, becoming the finest doctor in all of Alaska. Alexandria, however, took a wildly different path, instead going to school to become an English teacher in Japan. While Jane wanted to make a difference at home, Alex wanted to travel the world, and make a difference in other's lives. With a teary farewell, Alex left, flying the 14 hours to a country so radically different than her own, she was actually shaking in anticipation, and nervousness. When she landed, she was greeted by a high-school principal, who was the one who had hired her, upon her graduation. Happy, Alex was slightly put off by the student's sheer apathy, but she still strove to be the best teacher they all had, in their neighborhood of Kabukicho. One day, a crazy man found his way into her classroom, waving about a knife. A he was about to stab the first student, Alex pulled the knife towards her, away from her beloved students. Stabbed through the heart, she managed to live for a few seconds, enough to shove the gunman out of a window. Collapsing on the floor, bleeding, she looked upon her students with a smile. They were all safe.
6,462	178	7	1,949	2,861	I'm so stupid. Her head down as she waited near the subway line for it to come, Karime Ochiro, better known as the Idol 'Haruka,' spoke within her own mind. The spotlessly clean subway made her feel sick. It was too clean. Too perfect. Why did everything have to perfect? Why did this society demand nothing but the best, of the best, of the best, of the best, of the... Her hands clutched a strappy purse in front of her so tightly her knuckles were white. She remembered seeing the video. Oh it had spread like wildfire, just like her legs did in that video. She had done a bikini-modeling photo shoot not long ago and while the photographer had been busy catching the light on the idol just right, some production assistant went and took a video of the entire process of her going through the sexy poses they commanded her to do and overlayed the audio with some less-than-pure music. Her American friends told her that the video really wasn't that bad but... They don't fucking understand. Everything had to be pure in the land of the rising sun. The comments of the video sneered at her, saying things like 'She probably used that disgusting pose on that art-director she slept with' and 'How desperate for attention do you really have to be to do something like this?' The masses were misinformed, as they always are. Across from her in the subway, a metal bar was propped up against the tracks, polished so much that she could easily make out her reflection with ease. Her teal eyes, peeking over her overly large sunglasses, glared back at her. I hate you... I hate you... I hate you... I hate you... I hate you. Behind her, she could hear two teenage boys roughhousing. From what she could gather, one was teasing the other about how he liked a girl. It wasn't my fault! He used me... He USED me...! But it is my fault. It's always my fault. You stupid whore. From down the way, she could hear the train coming. The boys were getting closer. I'm so worthless. Her fans didn't even like her anymore, most of them anyway. Her music was becoming weaker as Haruka, the persona itself, was being broken. She had a mental breakdown three months ago. She started bawling on live national TV, admitting how stressed she was on the talk show and how she hated that this fame had made her into something she wasn't. Before she could be interviewed further, she ran out of the studio... and never went back. There was consideration of her return lately, and her star-bound friends had been there for her, for that she was grateful. But it was her that wasn't there for herself anymore. Her eyes closed and she let out a sigh. All she wanted was a nice, hot bubble bath and to curl into her bed for the night. Maybe she could be nicer to herself in the morning. Then she felt someone fall into her from behind. With a gasp, she suddenly found the subway tracks rushing up to greet her, landing with an 'oomf!' ungracefully. She picked her head up to look behind at what had pushed her. One of the boys, who had also fallen but onto the platform. His eyes were stretched wide in horror. Looking over towards the oncoming train, she realized, even as she struggled to get up and off the tracks, that it was too late. In those final, slow moments, everything seemed to slow down. And she realized how badly she wanted to live. Instinctively, her hand rose up to guard her face. Her childhood hallucination was there. Just in front of her, sneering down at her. Had she forgotten her medicine? Why would she see Himika now... of all times? The dirty-haired hallucinations eyes narrowed and her thin lips curled over blackened teeth. "You don't deserve to live." ...huh? And then it was over, just as she began to scream, the large metal wheel sliced cleanly down her neck, the head rolling along the tracks as the subway kept moving... the expression of horror still twisted onto the features of the fallen star, Haruka. ***** ...Warmth... This wasn't so bad. If this was death... here, floating freely in this space of blackness, surrounded by nothingness... She could live with that. But then, she couldn't because she was dead. There was nothing to worry about. She would never feel pain again and that... knowing that... It was wonderful. But then her body began to stir, and her eyes gently flicked open. She felt like she was just coming out of a very nice, very needed rest. Where was she anyway? She felt a bit stuffy cramped beneath whatever was over her. Wiggling, she was pleased to find that whatever was on her came off with ease, and she emerged from a sea of blankets and pillows that had been piled up in the corner of the room. She blinked as she took in the sight around her. Some sort of dingy apartment with other people in it... and a laptop... and... Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore, She thought to herself. She didn't remove herself completely from her chysalis of blankets and pillows, finding them to be pleasantly warm, and thus kept herself half buried beneath them as she talked, a fair hand reaching up to stroke her neck. Had it been a dream? "U-uh....H-hi... um, where am I?" She asked the people present in a confused tone.	Name: Karime Ochiro Alias/es: Stage name - Haruka Age: 21 Height: 5'2 Weight: 121lbs Complexion: Fair Eye Color: Teal Hair Color: Dyed Teal, Natural is black Apparel: Stage clothing usually consists of beautifully handcrafted halter tops with large, puffy short skirts and handgloves. Wears a headset microphone and knee-high stilleto boots. Day to day she'll wear a similar outfit, with a normal, flouncy skirt and haltertop shirt. She usually wears gorgeous and expensive sunglasses and a sunhat to keep her identity under wraps from fans, and also wears pumps when walking around town. Her favorite accessory is a necklace on a thin chain around her neck, bearing a small round locket with a picture of her baby sister and her. Personality: While Karime off the stage is very private, shy, and lacking in self confidence, her stage persona, Haruka, is the complete opposite. For the fans and the cameras, Haruka is brimming with self confidence and happiness, always pledging to be fashion forward and reaching for the stars in more ways than one. Karime, on the other hand, is often hard to talk to. She's twitchy, always looking over her shoulder in paranoia and when she feels pressured, breaks down. She shuts down in the face of difficulty or problems, with intense social anxiety that makes her hardly able to function. History: Karime Ochiro was born in Kyoto, Japan with the aid of a midwife. Ever since she was little, she loved to sing to herself and found herself too shy to try to show others--until she met Himika. Himika was a neighbor girl that loved picking flowers with Karime and telling stories about how they had traveled all over Japan before coming to move near Karime. Karime spent every moment she could with Himika between classes, studying and chores, which her parents always watched her play fondly with. However, once Karime turned 8, her parents became concerned and confronted Karime about her friendship with Himika. Naturally, in confusion, Karime defended her friend, clueless as to why her parents would suddenly take issue with her being around. The argument became heated, her parents throwing confusing sentences at her like "You're too old for an imaginary friend." and "Himika isn't real, you need to make friends with other children." A little later, Karime was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Able to receive necessary treatment, she was told to take prescription medication in order to make her hallucinations go away. She was hesitant, and most of all distraught. She told Himika, in tears, that her parents said they couldn't be friends anymore. While the hallucination initially laughed it off, she later became angry when Karime persisted in what she was saying, and then violent. While Karime took her pills as instructed, Himika's persona became distorted, vengeful, telling Karime to kill herself, to hurt her parents and other children... and eventually she disappeared. The attacks left Karime in a depression, and as she advanced into middle school, she became a loner. One day, having had to stay after class to help clean up the classroom, Karime thought she was alone and began singing along to a soft ballad. However, one of the girls had come back to retrieve a forgotten item and heard her. She applauded when Karime had finished singing, leaving Karime incredibly embarassed, but she was quickly told not to worry about it, and that her singing was amazing. The girl pointed her to Idol auditions in the area and, with much pushing, she nervously went to try out. Shakily, she walked into see the board of directors that she would perform for. With wobbling knees, she belted out the best song she knew, and as she took on an audience, a feeling of confidence bloomed in her chest, causing her showmanship to improve tenfold naturally in front of them. Stunned by her performance, she was immediately signed a contract and began her career as an Idol under the name "Haruka." After being transformed with a new look, Haruka immediately began travelling all over Japan doing concerts, going onto television shows, reality show segments, guest starring on films, the whole shebang. After years upon years of high stardom, her rise has began to crumble after a recent scandal revealing her relationship with a talent director that had seduced her at a party when she was nineteen years old. She still has very many loyal fans regardless and has manage to make very many other starry-eyed friends. But when the lights go down and the fans go home, she's left alone on stage in the darkness. That depression she felt as a teen never really went away and with the slander coming her way, she started having more mental breakdowns off camera and one on camera that made her lose even more fans, and caused her to escape the spotlight entirely out of her persona for a solid three months now. Then, as Karime, she was trying to go back to her penthouse by using the subway when a group of rough housing boys accidentally pushed her onto the subway tracks. Though she scrambled to get up, it was too late. The subway decapitated her as she let out a choked scream and left her head rolling down the tunnels, the expression of horror still left on her face. In her final moments, she saw a twisted, older version of Himika grinning at her in front of the train. The Idol Haruka was deemed missing. Other: Some of her music that topped Japans charts and some that went international
6,463	178	8	655	2,889	Just another day at work. With a flick of his wrist, Itachi diverted his crane along the row of containers. He held the control stick in just the right position; too much, the lumbering machine would shoot across the yard. Too little, and he wouldn't get his job done on time. This was a delicate balance, and handling these huge machines was an art form only workers like him understood. He eased the giant to a stop above a particular container, this one was blue with a Hitachi logo emblazoned on the side, and whipped out a clipboard. His schedule told him that today, anything that was under Hitachi was to be moved to a nearby dock for movement onto a freighter. Oh shipping. Thus a simple art. He quickly confirmed that the container he was over was one for moving and, with another control stick, lowered the crane's rectangular armature downward. The device slid right over the top container so he twisted the stick, clamping the arm in place. Right, time to haul. He pulled back on the stick and the container rose, slowly but surely, into the air. Gingerly he raised the hulk up until it hung just below his control station. Then, with both hands on both sticks, he manoeuvred the whole crane along its track towards dock side. Slower, this time. He had cargo. Last one, then he would be homeward bound. He inched his way across the freight yard, while below him trucks and workers milled about like little ants. The day was easing to a close, sun setting beneath the horizon, casting long and thick shadows across the docks. He could faintly hear the cheerful laughs of his colleagues below him; just like him, they were waiting to go home to their wives and families and sit down with a hot meal to relax. His crane slid into place and he stopped, lowering the container into place as he heard footfalls behind him. A hand clapped him on the shoulder as he smiled and turned to look up. "Itachi, go home." "But what if I stay longer, hmm?" "Then I'll just go home and share more sake with my wife! Ha ha!" His shift replacement was a very old friend of his, a man named Yuichi. Itachi swapped places with him and tipped his hard hat in farewell as he climbed down the ladder. Several catwalks and two ladders later and he was on solid ground. Time to clock out. Home. As he strolled down the road towards the staff office, he briefly contemplated his job. It was simple enough, right? Driving a crane was like parking a car, or playing those crane games his daughter enjoyed playing at the fair or the arcade. Itachi smiled. The mere memory of seeing his little girl at home warmed his heart. Her smile, her little hands held gently within his when they walked. The way his children played together in their flat. Everything about his family made him smile. He was happy. He never did notice his coworker shout a warning to him. Only when a large shadow grew over his path he realised something was wrong. Itachi looked up. A split second before a falling cargo container crushed him beneath its bulk. Oh death. Thou but a simple art. ---------- The world was white. He awoke in a daze. His clothes were crumpled and bloody, and it felt like he'd been through a clothes drier. Slowly he opened his eyes wider, letting the light in while he sat up, rubbing the back of his head in confusion. Hadn't he just died? He remembered the container dropping down on top of him, a few brief moments of sheer agony, then nothing but a cold, dark black. Was this heaven? A tiny room where people argued with each other forever? In the room were several other people, just as confused as he was. Some were already in the process of arguing, but one, a young lady, had just woken up. Upon hearing her ask a question he didn't think the others had heard, he turned to her and smiled weakly. "I'm not sure." Itachi extended a hand that he hoped she would shake. It was nice to make at least one friend in a strange place like this. "I'm Gokyo Itachi. You?"	Name: Gokyo Itachi Alias/es: - Age: 36 Height: 6' Weight: 170 lbs Complexion: Tan Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Dark brown Apparel: Simple blue tee shirt, brown leather biking jacket, blue jeans and work boots. Personality: Itachi is outgoing, pleasant and quite friendly, though in new situations he is rather awkward and shy. He is also quite analytical beneath his soft, charming personality, as well as calculated and precise from his years spent working as a crane operator. History: Itachi is your average American blue-collar worker, holding a steady job as a freight mover in a shipyard in Tokyo. He's the one that operates the huge crane that lifts and moves containers within the freight yard itself. A crane driver, if you will. Born to a very average family, Itachi took after his father, a rough and tumble maintenance worker, in life and its intricacies. He was what you'd call a simple man with simple dreams: to have a stable job, a family and a house all of his own. Obviously working in the regular blue-collar industry wasn't enough for that, but with the added risk of, say, heavy duty machinery and whatnot, that would be more than enough. Being a modern-day dockworker was just what he needed to live his simple dream life. Now obviously you didn't need a whole lot of academic qualifications to become a dock worker, but Chris powered through school anyway, getting himself good enough grades each year, and enough to graduate respectably. After that, he took on a life in simple work, helping neighbours move things, taking up part-time jobs in groceries and warehouses as heavy lifters, until his father recommended him to work at the Port of Tokyo. His dad knew the foreman of the freight yard, and since his son was adapted well enough into the simple life, he agreed to take him on. For months Itachi was trained and instructed on the use of the various vehicles and machines within the shipyard; forklifts, heavy duty cranes, how to handle a container on a winch, the whole nine yards. After two years he was easily one of the finest crane operators in the yard. If you had to ask him what would be the highest point of his life, it would be when he married his wife, Hanao Osaka. They lived together for two years before having their first child, a son by the name of Gin. Three years after that, they had a daughter, Ichi. They moved into a small semi-detached house near the docks; convenience for the father, mostly, but with schools nearby for the kids and work in short order for mum. Other: Itachi very regularly totes a brown leather messenger bag. Within it is his wallet, cellphone, personal organiser and a pocket knife. I'm sorry I can't provide the huge-ass histories that you all have. I kinda wrote this in a hurry and I really wanted to play and flesh out an average joe in a very profound situation.
6,464	178	9	827	308	Thinking back about it was the most terrifying part. Even staring out at the admittedly beautiful cityscape of his home prefecture, his mind could not shake the flashbacks to his little conversation with Chomei before he was sent to the room. The pain was the most vivid of the memories, and make Takeda’s stomach churn. He was simply happy that he no longer had to feel all that pain, but on the other hand, his clothes still had enough blood on them to tell a story. He stood back from the window, and examined his clothes. His dress shirt and tie were both nearly saturated in blood, and the top area of his pants also had plenty of blood on the front side. His dress shirt also had cuts in it from where he felt the knife coldly slice through him. The only thing he could say that was ‘out of the ordinary’ other than the entire situation he was in, was the fact that he had his trench coat on, and that when he appeared in the room, his clothes were all buttoned and tightened as if he had just walked out of the office. A thought came to him, and his hand went straight under his coat to his hip, to see if he still had his .38 revolver. Sadly, his hand found nothing but an empty holster. He had turned it in before he left the station, he remembered, and then cursed under his breath. The room was rather stuffy, which brought a slight chuckled to Takeda. Who knew purgatory would have such poor air conditioning? He thought. The thought didn’t last too long after he slid his trench coat, which revealed just how fully saturated his shirt was with blood. He grimaced, and the thoughts of his death raced back in his head, but he forced them out quickly. Through his unbuttoned shirt, he could see his stomach, which was free from any cuts, and it still baffled him how just they had all died and ended up alive, in a sense, in this room. As he examined his own body, he realized that something was in his peripherals that wasn’t there before, and a quick turn of the head revealed a man with his hand outstretched to pile of pillows, which had the head of a girl sticking out. He began to shift his vision to focus on the man again, before he realized that there was some strange familiarity to the girl in the pillows. He stared at her for another few moments, before he realized that she was Haruka, some popstar that had quickly lost her star luster due to some online video. He only barely paid attention to her in life, and when the video came out, he was only aware of it because of some chatter among the men of the office, and some sort of slight investigation by the Cyber and Sexual Crimes teams. Takeda walked up, standing in front of the two new people. “Tell me, you both died before you appeared in here, eh? Welcome to the club. I’m Invest-” He stopped mid sentence, and all he could think of was how useless it was to be using his job title,as he was pretty much dead. He shook the thought out, negativity couldn’t help right now. “Sorry, Investigator Hitoshi.” He turned to the rest of the room. “And that goes to the rest of you all, my name is Hitoshi. What about the rest of you all? If we’re going to be stuck in this room together, we might as get to know each other.”	Name: Takeda Hitoshi Jr. Alias/es: Tack, Age: 27 Height:5’9 Weight: 175 pounds, or 79 kilos Complexion: Standard, Asian Tan, or ‘yellow’ if you will, complexion Eye Color:Dark brown Hair Color: Black Apparel: The coat and such in the above picture, but with the normal black pants and dress shoes. Off duty, he’d wear various colors of t-shirts and many kinds of shorts. Personality: Takeda can manage to, most of the time, change his personality to suit the situation. Most of the time, Takeda will be quiet and very observative, taking mental notes of certain quirks and quips of the people and places that surround him. He can do a good job handling his temper, and not many things can solicit an emotional response from him. That’s not to say he’s some sort of emotionless robot, but in his line of work, he’s learned to focus more on what needs to be done versus what needs to be felt. Even with all his training, Takeda can sometimes still lose his composure in stressful situations, but it isn’t an extremely common happening. He doesn’t tend to let his guard down around others, and doesn’t get very attached to anyone very easily. He’d rather know people better than they know him. Takeda tries his hardest to be fair and logical most of the time, but he’s still human, even if he doesn’t allow himself to be. When dealing with criminals, on the other had, Takeda has a habit of losing his cool very quickly. History: Takeda was born in the bustling Tokyo prefecture of Japan. Takeda was a summer baby, born on a beautiful, sunny day in June. His parents were the normal, trope-esque pair of hard working Japanese people, his father a beat cop and his mother a triage nurse. His infancy and childhood could be considered the perfect upbringing for a new, Japanese urbanite: calm and nurturing, with loving parents who wanted nothing more than for their little son to grow up and be the best that he could be. Even with their busy and unpredictable work hours, Takeda’s parents did their best to always be there for their child, making sure he never felt alone or uncared for in the crazy world. Always full of stories to tell about wacky and scary encounters on the job, Takeda’s father was probably the biggest influence on the young boy’s ambitions, and he decided fairly early that he wanted to help the community and join law enforcement, following in the footsteps of his father. It wasn’t until his high school years that Takeda’s quaint life received its first huge shake up. Takeda Sr. was on call to a domestic assault call, when in the process of looking for a weapon, he found a large amount of drugs in the house. When he questioned the owner of the house, it quickly got violent, with the two men engaging in a fist fight that ended in Takeda Sr. being stabbed multiple times, and the owner of the house being shot to death by the back-up officers that arrived on scene. Takeda Jr. found out through his mother, who was the nurse on scene when Sr. made his way into the ER. The injuries were severe, but not life-threatening. Takeda Sr. would spend a few weeks in recovery, before it was found that the man that was killed was an important middle man in a large drug trade linked to cartels in Mexico and the Yakuza there in Japan. Seeing the hero that was his father stricken so weak and injured at the hands of criminals angered Takeda greatly, and eliminated any doubts he had about joining law enforcement. He wasn’t just going to be a police officer like his father was, he was going to join the Criminal Investigation Bureau and go a step farther to eliminate the drug trade in his area, to keep anyone from facing what his family faced, or worse. After high school, Takeda headed straight to the university to study Criminology, and as soon as he had his 4 year, Takeda applied for the CIB Academy, and went straight into training for his dream job. The months of hour upon hour of training and drilling were some of the best months in his life, meeting fellow agents that had similar experiences to his, dealing with the negative effects of crime and those who committed it. Once he finally made it, Takeda went straight to work following leads on the drug trade in the area of his home prefecture and it’s connections to the rest of the world, especially to the United States and Mexico. As the Bureau got deeper and deeper into this dark underworld, it became more and more obvious that they had exposed a drug operation much larger than the likes they had seen in Japan ever before. This case could make history in all of Japan, and he was one of the biggest players in it, even at such an inexperienced state. He had already made his family proud by going beyond their accomplishments and being a detective in the CIB, so that was the lest of his worries now. The only thing that mattered to him now was dismantling organized crime in Tokyo, and then in Japan. By now he's spent a few years knee deep, and he loves it. Other: Can’ think of anything.
6,465	178	10	1,220	545	Thus far Arielle had been ignoring the commentary around her, figuring responding would only compile the issue. She'd never been good at saying things in a polite way and would only manage to dig herself deeper into a hole. However, her ears perked up when she heard "Investigator Hitoshi". She'd just recently begun to speculate that the Japanese mofia might have something to do with this, and wondered if he knew anything. "I hate to interrupt, but please humor me Mr. Hitoshi. My name is Doctor Arielle Bellemont, I am a geneticist for the university of Tokyo. It has come to my attention we all seem to have befell tragedy before our arrival in this domicile. Horrors which should have left us dead judging by all the blood we exhibit. I have come to speculate that we each fell into a coma and were kidnapped soon after recovery, a long shot I know but the best idea I have yet to come up with. Anybody that would do this must..." using her fingers to count she continued "First have the financial means to have covered our medical expenses. Second, be able to kidnap us without alerting the authorities and third have some motivation. The only organization that meets the first two requirements, outside of the government is the Japanese Mafia. Would you by any chance know anything about them? I'm not sure what your job was in the department, but hopefully your less ignorant than I am about if this is possible, and even more so why the h*ll they would want all of us. By the looks of it we have nothing in common at all, except for the bloody near-death experiences." She looked up at the investigator to determine his reaction, and she hoped as hard as she had ever hoped this man would know something. Though with her luck he would be someone from a drug unit or some other unrelated area.	Name: Arielle Bellemont Alias/es: Arie Age: 26 Height: 5' 8" Weight: 135 Lbs Complexion: Alabaster pale Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Brunette Apparel: As pictured above, except she is wearing full length skinny jeans. She does not believe in luck, but always keeps a pocket emergency kit in her purse and a copy of "The God Delusion" Personality: Analytical to a fault she overthinks everything, often getting lost in her own thoughts in the process. She really is kind hearted, and wishes people the best, but her serious personality can make her hard to work with. Sarcasm and abstract humor go over her head, and as a result she can take offence where none was meant. Or even worse she tries to be funny but it comes out wrong and offends those around her. As a result she tends to speak more formally than the average person, hoping her words have the appropriate meaning to the person she is talking to. Though she does look down on the religious as "thoughtless" she can still be professional and fully cooperate with them. Most of all though she loves being right and will correct people without invitation. History: Arielle was born in Osaka to a loving mother and an abusive Evangelical father, both originally from France. At age 2 her mother ran away, taking the young Arielle with her. By age 4 her mother had settled down with a new lover, a woman named Narumi (or as Arielle called her "Mimi"). These women are the only family she ever remembers and for this she is very glad, but knowledge of her father's abuse and repression of her mother gave her a hatred of religion. A natural student she always got high marks in school and would spend her free time reading all sorts of books. Despite being at best middle class somehow her mothers both ensured that their daughter had all the books she could ever want, which meant her tiny bedroom resembled a library with a small bed in it. In high school she discovered her two true loves, genetics and debate. Even while keeping up he grades she took part in the debate team, though she never won any awards. Her junior year her name became well known in Japan when she published an open letter to a Catholic Cardinal, and the story took off in the media. The letter was outright blasphemy and accused the Catholic church, point blank, of preventing social progress and hypocrisy, using genetics to attempt to disprove Adam and Eve among other things. The scathing letter earned her a fair number of haters, but also attracted colleges that wanted a bright mind that was highly motivated. Senior year she accepted an offer from University of Tokyo for a full ride scholarship (in exchange for her majoring in genetics and working for the department for 6 years after graduation). Through college she started accepting invitations to debates with various people, with some even becoming televised affairs. Her love of debate, and being right, kept her on this path and eventually she became a well known speaker for the atheist community. The past several years since graduation have been rather simple, she works at the university to try and isolate the genes that cause cancer and spends her weekends doing debates with many officials over religion. An abrasive figure to say the least she met her match at a debate in her new home of Tokyo. During a televised debate with a Muslim cleric and extremist from the crowd charged the stage, slit her throat and stabbed her 36 times before security managed to restrain him. She bled to death on live tv, the woman that dared to challenge the world. Other: She always kept a basic emergency kit in her purse (about the size of two Altoids tins) and pepper spray.
6,466	178	11	1,555	729	The others didn't seem to have any insight either. She stared at the man who shouted at her. How was she supposed to know what was going on? She remembered the two men that attacked her and left her to burn alive. That's right, the book store probably burned to the ground. That was the only thing she had left. Now that it was gone it felt fitting that she'd be dead. It wasn't like she could go on without a home or a way to make a living. She probably would have just committed suicide after that. Maybe it was some kind of twisted fortune that she didn't have to live the rest of her life destitute. Then again, she was in a new place now and not even the scars her father left were present. The man's death sounded pretty terrible as well. "I... still don't think..." She could barely get the words out. She didn't know these people and they all looked intimidating. "Maybe... we're disturbed spirits... I'm sure I died." Her voice was so soft she wasn't even sure if the others could hear her say it. Hitomi slumped further into her self, curling her legs up so her knees met her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. Maybe her father was right all those years ago and she really was impure. Had her entire life been a mistake? Could it be that her soul was corrupted and she was damned to walk the earth as an evil spirit? The thought of it evoked tears to run down her face. She shrank even further as she resisted making any indication that she was crying. Her crying was quickly overshadowed by the arrival of two other people who seemed to be just as lost as everyone else. It was something of a relief that no one was paying attention to her. Without warning the laptop blinked to life and a message appeared on screen that read. "LOADING..." Suddenly the laptop chimed up and a picture appeared on screen. Once everyone focused their attention on the laptop a voice spoke up. It was clearly synthesized but sounded very smooth and natural. "I am CELL. You are all dead. You belong to me, that's the way it is. Inside each of your heads is a small implant that marks you as mine. The implant also has some nifty explosives in it so if you refuse to do as I say your head will go BOOM!" As the voice explained this to the group a simple silhouette appeared on screen illustrating a human figure giving the middle finger to the picture of CELL. On the word 'boom' the silhouette's head popped in an almost comical fashion, slumped onto the bottom of the screen, and faded away. "I have some gifts for you in this fancy box!" The crate the laptop had been sitting on popped it's sides open to reveal a gun rack as well as some small briefcases labeled with each of their names. The guns were of a futuristic design, sleek and simplistic, but as any one familiar with firearms would note there was no magazine well or ammunition to speak of. On one side of the gun rack were handgun sized 'pistols' and on the other side held larger 'rifles' similar in design to the P90 submachinegun but much sleeker and again no apparent way of loading conventional ammunition. In the breifcases they would find a suit, tailor made for each person, made of a strong and flexible material unlike anything they've ever seen or felt. The suit was one complete set that covered the wearer from the neck down to their feet, it had harder material that was jet black around most of the body with a softer more flexible material around joints. Of the many strange features of this suit was a hardened spine that ran the length of the wearer's spine, as a result the sipper to close the suit was on the front and covered by a strip of material when closed. Once they donned the suit and closed the suit fully they would experiencea sharp sting in the back of their neck and then nothing. In order to wear the suit it is necessary to completely undress as any clothes worn underneath would be too bulky. "Your mission is to kill this bad guy! You have fifteen minutes to prepare." The target had replaced CELL on the screen and remained there. The laptop no longer made any indication of being in use other than the screen showing them their target. Now they had a choice. Obey CELL and kill some random person they knew nothing about or take the chance that CELL was lying about the bomb in their heads.	Name: Yamada Ryota Alias/es: Sato Hitomi Age: 22 Height: 153cm (4'11") Weight: 53kg (115 lbs.) Complexion: Pale, Asian Pacific Eye Color: Dark Brown Hair Color: Auburn Apparel: Casual blouses, jean shorts, and short skirts mostly, occasionally wears summer dresses in the hotter months. Personality: Hitomi is not exactly friendly but always very polite. Having been treated as an outcast for most of her childhood led to a fear of conflict and strong personalities. She tends to err on the side of caution and rarely speaks up unless she's spoken to first. Her anti-social behavior is deeply rooted in a past history of abuse and as a result she greatly values the acceptance of others. History: Sato Hitomi was born as a young boy named Yamada Ryota. Her parents, Yusuke and Akane, were very happy to have had a son but it wasn't long until they realized that their son was different. It started with simple things. Ryota would prefer colors like pink and yellow, sometimes trying to put on girl's clothes. Her parents thought nothing of it at first, believing it to be an oddity or 'just a phase'. Soon after little Ryota had turned six he started asking to dress like a girl and refused to wear the clothes meant for boys. Little Ryota started to make proclamations that he was in fact a she. Her parents were unable to cope at first and saw fit to punish such brazen behavior with spankings. After all, spare the rod spoil the child, no? Little Ryota only cried louder until her parents finally gave in and allowed their son to dress as their daughter, if only to bring an end to the constant tantrums. At this point Hitomi was the only name she would answer to. Her father Yusuke reluctantly complied in public but at home things were very different. Her father regularly 'punished' his daughter for being 'impure' and a disappointment while her mother merely watched and did nothing. Hitomi suffered through the abuse at home and was forced to keep her identity a secret. No one could know that Yamada Yusuke's daughter was once his son. Hitomi was allowed to go to school as a girl although she was not formerly recognized as such by the school itself. The staff chose to play along in order to avoid any awkwardness. Most of the students were unaware of anything out of the ordinary, aside from her mysterious bruises which appeared from time to time. For a while Hitomi lived her life in public without any complications and was actually becoming a rather beautiful young girl despite the constant abuse she suffered at home. At the age of 14 Hitomi had begun to work part-time at a book store in order to pay for Hormone Replacement Therapy, which allowed her body to develop as a girl. Later in her first year of high school there was an incident that changed her life. A new trend of pranks had been going around where boys would invade the girls bathroom and take pictures of them on the toilet. Hitomi had unfortunately been a victim of such a prank which led to the discovery of her male genetalia and the news spread across the school like wildfire. It wasn't long before the bullying started and soon after that her parents got word of what was happening at school. This only made her father more furious with her and increased the severity of his 'punishments'. After a few months of being treated like trash at home and at school Hitomi finally decided to drop out of school and was summarily kicked out of her home for doing so. Having no where else to go she pleaded with the book-store owner Sato Hiroshi to take her in and so he did. They lived together until Mr. Sato, who was already well into his seventies at the time, had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Now that Mr. Sato was dying he saw fit to give everything to the only family he had. Hitomi took his name and was granted ownership of the book store "Sato Books". She has since lived her life alone running her book store. Other:
6,467	178	12	215	1,683	Alex fell silent as the Investigator Hitoshi, as he was called, promptly ignored her, and went over to the two newcomers. Muttering, "Freakin' rude...", she went back to the laptop. Nothing changed. Except Arielle's demeanor. She didn't think that the girl was capable of being polite at all, but sometimes, people surprised Alexandria. By virtue of not being part of the conversation, she noticed a quiet voice, in the corner of the room. It belonged to a small woman, not far from Alex herself in age, it looked, in the corner of the room, opposite the others. She was curled up, sobbing. Alex's heart melted at seeing this, because she herself had been there. Well, not in this corner of the room, but where the woman was emotionally. When she was kicked out into the snow, back in Juneau, all those years ago, all she'd been able to do was cry. Looking away from the laptop, Alex walked towards the woman. Crouching down, Alex reached out to touch the woman's shoulder, but hesitated. Maybe the woman didn't want any help? She banished the thought from her mind. Alex didn't want any help, but her adoptive family had given it anyway. Tapping her shoulder lightly, Alexandria tried to look into the other woman's face, with a kind look. "If you are a disturbed spirit, then you're the nicest one I've met so far." Sitting, arms behind her, and leaning back, still looking forward, Alex extended a hand to the other woman, and said, "My name's Alex. What's yours?" Then, came the ding. Standing up, and extending a hand, to help the other woman up, Alex looked at the laptop. Some girl dressed as an idol or something began to speak. Alex barely blinked until the cartoon on the screen made a little cartoon person's head go 'boom'. Despite the fact that she had just died, and this... 'Cell' confirmed it, she still couldn't imagine her head exploding. Then there was a freaking order to kill someone, or Cell would explode their heads? Eyes wide, Alex grabbed a futuristic looking pistol, similar to the Heckler & Koch HK45 her adoptive Sheriff father had taught her to fire, when she was eighteen. Looking at the magazine, she saw that there was no ammunition of any kind. If she drew strange looks, she snapped, "Well I'm not taking any chances, okay?!" Grabbing the suit, she unzipped it from the front, examining it. Throwing it over her shoulder, she looked for a place to change, even though the room had no dividers or partitions.	Name: Alexandria Graveson Alias/es: Alex Age: 23 Height: 5'1" Weight: 103 lb. Complexion: Caucasian, yet slightly tanned. Eye Color: Red contacts, naturally Green. Hair Color: Red. Apparel: Usually business casual, but when she arrived in Japan, she started wearing hoodies and jeans as well. Personality: Alex is brash, loud, and generally opinionated. This doesn't mean that she's not introspective, and does appreciate others' input. She is just too quick to react to think about what she's saying, and feels guilty if she hurts someones' feelings, or makes a situation worse. History: Alexandria was born to a single mother in Juneau, Alaska, a young woman, altogether too young to have the responsibility of raising a child. Alex's early years were that of loneliness for hours on end, while her mother was out working. Left alone, without any guidance, Alex was raised by the television screen, watching every program voraciously. One day, Alex's mother brought home a man, deep tan, tousled hair, defined chin, the works. At first, he seemed nice. He was polite, did most everything around the house himself, didn't ask for anything from Alexandria's mother. However, he hated Alex, and what she represented. After her mother married him, they began to argue. Loudly. One time, the local police department was called in by neighbors, to break up what they suspected to be a fight. However, there wasn't anything out of line, and they couldn't do anything, even if they did feel sympathetic towards the now-teenager, who was alone in the world. Soon after, she was kicked out of the house, at age 17, after a particularly bad fight, with both of her parents this time. As she was shoved out of the house, few belongings tossed out after her into the snow, she saw that neither her mother, nor terrible stepfather had any regrets about abandoning her. So she picked up her things, and left, walking alone down the city streets, at night, no less. The neighborhood that they lived in was up towards the mountain, so suffice to say, if wasn't the best. On the way to no place in particular, while she was wondering what she would do, she was attacked, man stealing all of her money and belongings, leaving her battered, and lying in the snow. Curled up, Alexandria just waited to die. Everything was complete crap, he life, her family, and now she had literally nothing but the clothes on her back. That was, until Jane, daughter of the sheriff of the city, found her, while walking home from a party, with her group of friends. Taking her to her home, she quickly reached out to the girl who had lost everything, the two becoming the best of friends. Jane's father, mother, and younger brother all accepted her as one of their own, and tried to make up for those lost years of childhood. For her last year of high school, Alex was happy. Her parents, as she had come to see them, came to hers and Jane's graduation, cheering loudly for their daughters. Jane went onto medical school, becoming the finest doctor in all of Alaska. Alexandria, however, took a wildly different path, instead going to school to become an English teacher in Japan. While Jane wanted to make a difference at home, Alex wanted to travel the world, and make a difference in other's lives. With a teary farewell, Alex left, flying the 14 hours to a country so radically different than her own, she was actually shaking in anticipation, and nervousness. When she landed, she was greeted by a high-school principal, who was the one who had hired her, upon her graduation. Happy, Alex was slightly put off by the student's sheer apathy, but she still strove to be the best teacher they all had, in their neighborhood of Kabukicho. One day, a crazy man found his way into her classroom, waving about a knife. A he was about to stab the first student, Alex pulled the knife towards her, away from her beloved students. Stabbed through the heart, she managed to live for a few seconds, enough to shove the gunman out of a window. Collapsing on the floor, bleeding, she looked upon her students with a smile. They were all safe.
6,468	178	13	1,949	2,861	She looked to the man that called himself Itachi. She hesitated, her eyes looking at his outstretched hand with a mix of confusion and relief that someone was talking to her. She contemplated what to say, how to introduce herself. If she said her name was Karime, that was all she would be. Just some stranger with a horrible anxiety problem. If she said her name was Haruka, she might be ridiculed for the reasons behind her fall of fame, but she would have the benefit of being known, and hiding her true name just in case this was some insane plot to kidnap her. Regardless, the memory of falling in front of the subway with Himika looming over her was fresh in her head. It was at that moment that she made her decision and outstretched her own hand to shake his. "They call... I guess, called me, Haruka." Upon hearing the investigators request to introduce themselves, she turned to everyone in the room and rose from her pile of pillows and blankets, finding that from the neck down, her body was still covered in blood all around from where she'd been bleeding from her neck as she died. "My name is Haruka. And... I died before appearing here." Then CELL chimed up, causing her to turn her head towards the laptop in wonder. She listened and watched. While on the inside, she was in absolute misery and fear... She was Haruka. Confident, composed, unafraid. She took a deep breath. No, now was not a good time to be Karime Ochiro. It may never be a good time to be Karime ever again. As the laptop shut off, she decided, feeling the tension in the room, that it might be best to not focus on the fact that they would need to kill someone or that they might be killed again if they refused. "We're already dead, right?" She asked this, looking around at everyone. "If we're killed again then... maybe it would even be better than our deaths before. Maybe it would be less painful... Though, I don't understand it." She walked over to the suits and felt her heart fall a bit as she felt them and held the one her size up. A distraction from their truth, it was her specialty to make others feel good on the stage. So, as Haruka, she decided that that's what her mission would be here. She would make everyone feel better. A sense of understanding and silent vigilance blossomed inside her. And she understood that she would look superficial... but, thats the price of being... of having been, a star. Making a show of it, she sighed dejectedly as she held her suit up against her body. "These aren't at all my style. I love dresses and flouncy skirts, you know? I mean these will look sleek and cool and all but..." She pouted, taking care not to blatantly say she wouldn't put it on, just in case CELL was telling the truth.	Name: Karime Ochiro Alias/es: Stage name - Haruka Age: 21 Height: 5'2 Weight: 121lbs Complexion: Fair Eye Color: Teal Hair Color: Dyed Teal, Natural is black Apparel: Stage clothing usually consists of beautifully handcrafted halter tops with large, puffy short skirts and handgloves. Wears a headset microphone and knee-high stilleto boots. Day to day she'll wear a similar outfit, with a normal, flouncy skirt and haltertop shirt. She usually wears gorgeous and expensive sunglasses and a sunhat to keep her identity under wraps from fans, and also wears pumps when walking around town. Her favorite accessory is a necklace on a thin chain around her neck, bearing a small round locket with a picture of her baby sister and her. Personality: While Karime off the stage is very private, shy, and lacking in self confidence, her stage persona, Haruka, is the complete opposite. For the fans and the cameras, Haruka is brimming with self confidence and happiness, always pledging to be fashion forward and reaching for the stars in more ways than one. Karime, on the other hand, is often hard to talk to. She's twitchy, always looking over her shoulder in paranoia and when she feels pressured, breaks down. She shuts down in the face of difficulty or problems, with intense social anxiety that makes her hardly able to function. History: Karime Ochiro was born in Kyoto, Japan with the aid of a midwife. Ever since she was little, she loved to sing to herself and found herself too shy to try to show others--until she met Himika. Himika was a neighbor girl that loved picking flowers with Karime and telling stories about how they had traveled all over Japan before coming to move near Karime. Karime spent every moment she could with Himika between classes, studying and chores, which her parents always watched her play fondly with. However, once Karime turned 8, her parents became concerned and confronted Karime about her friendship with Himika. Naturally, in confusion, Karime defended her friend, clueless as to why her parents would suddenly take issue with her being around. The argument became heated, her parents throwing confusing sentences at her like "You're too old for an imaginary friend." and "Himika isn't real, you need to make friends with other children." A little later, Karime was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Able to receive necessary treatment, she was told to take prescription medication in order to make her hallucinations go away. She was hesitant, and most of all distraught. She told Himika, in tears, that her parents said they couldn't be friends anymore. While the hallucination initially laughed it off, she later became angry when Karime persisted in what she was saying, and then violent. While Karime took her pills as instructed, Himika's persona became distorted, vengeful, telling Karime to kill herself, to hurt her parents and other children... and eventually she disappeared. The attacks left Karime in a depression, and as she advanced into middle school, she became a loner. One day, having had to stay after class to help clean up the classroom, Karime thought she was alone and began singing along to a soft ballad. However, one of the girls had come back to retrieve a forgotten item and heard her. She applauded when Karime had finished singing, leaving Karime incredibly embarassed, but she was quickly told not to worry about it, and that her singing was amazing. The girl pointed her to Idol auditions in the area and, with much pushing, she nervously went to try out. Shakily, she walked into see the board of directors that she would perform for. With wobbling knees, she belted out the best song she knew, and as she took on an audience, a feeling of confidence bloomed in her chest, causing her showmanship to improve tenfold naturally in front of them. Stunned by her performance, she was immediately signed a contract and began her career as an Idol under the name "Haruka." After being transformed with a new look, Haruka immediately began travelling all over Japan doing concerts, going onto television shows, reality show segments, guest starring on films, the whole shebang. After years upon years of high stardom, her rise has began to crumble after a recent scandal revealing her relationship with a talent director that had seduced her at a party when she was nineteen years old. She still has very many loyal fans regardless and has manage to make very many other starry-eyed friends. But when the lights go down and the fans go home, she's left alone on stage in the darkness. That depression she felt as a teen never really went away and with the slander coming her way, she started having more mental breakdowns off camera and one on camera that made her lose even more fans, and caused her to escape the spotlight entirely out of her persona for a solid three months now. Then, as Karime, she was trying to go back to her penthouse by using the subway when a group of rough housing boys accidentally pushed her onto the subway tracks. Though she scrambled to get up, it was too late. The subway decapitated her as she let out a choked scream and left her head rolling down the tunnels, the expression of horror still left on her face. In her final moments, she saw a twisted, older version of Himika grinning at her in front of the train. The Idol Haruka was deemed missing. Other: Some of her music that topped Japans charts and some that went international
6,469	178	14	1,220	545	Arielle looked at the screen with a raised eyebrow, and a knot forming in her stomach. There was no way this was the work of the Japanese Mafia, they may be a lot of things but she had never heard of them resorting to such dishonorable tactics. She looked uneasily at the room around her, noting nobody seemed to have any answers. Uneasily she walked across the room and looked at the suits, turning to Haruka she remarked stiffly "I've never been able to pull these off. Give me a beautiful top and jeans any day." Arielle smiled awkwardly, trying to stave off the fear in her blood. This was no time to think illogically, and certainly no time to pretend to be dead. She looked over at Hitoshi she said seriously "Do you know anything about this man sir? Or what organization could have done this? I doubt the mafia would be so dishonorable and I will not kill an innocent man." Arielle knew this was true. She could never kill an innocent man, but she also knew she had to play it smart. She did not have enough data to make a decision, and it looked like there was not enough time to find out. She would have to play along, and determine the man's morality during the "mission". With morbid humor she joked softly "Well at least we get to pretend to be Americans for a day" she weakly laughed as she pointed to the guns.	Name: Arielle Bellemont Alias/es: Arie Age: 26 Height: 5' 8" Weight: 135 Lbs Complexion: Alabaster pale Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Brunette Apparel: As pictured above, except she is wearing full length skinny jeans. She does not believe in luck, but always keeps a pocket emergency kit in her purse and a copy of "The God Delusion" Personality: Analytical to a fault she overthinks everything, often getting lost in her own thoughts in the process. She really is kind hearted, and wishes people the best, but her serious personality can make her hard to work with. Sarcasm and abstract humor go over her head, and as a result she can take offence where none was meant. Or even worse she tries to be funny but it comes out wrong and offends those around her. As a result she tends to speak more formally than the average person, hoping her words have the appropriate meaning to the person she is talking to. Though she does look down on the religious as "thoughtless" she can still be professional and fully cooperate with them. Most of all though she loves being right and will correct people without invitation. History: Arielle was born in Osaka to a loving mother and an abusive Evangelical father, both originally from France. At age 2 her mother ran away, taking the young Arielle with her. By age 4 her mother had settled down with a new lover, a woman named Narumi (or as Arielle called her "Mimi"). These women are the only family she ever remembers and for this she is very glad, but knowledge of her father's abuse and repression of her mother gave her a hatred of religion. A natural student she always got high marks in school and would spend her free time reading all sorts of books. Despite being at best middle class somehow her mothers both ensured that their daughter had all the books she could ever want, which meant her tiny bedroom resembled a library with a small bed in it. In high school she discovered her two true loves, genetics and debate. Even while keeping up he grades she took part in the debate team, though she never won any awards. Her junior year her name became well known in Japan when she published an open letter to a Catholic Cardinal, and the story took off in the media. The letter was outright blasphemy and accused the Catholic church, point blank, of preventing social progress and hypocrisy, using genetics to attempt to disprove Adam and Eve among other things. The scathing letter earned her a fair number of haters, but also attracted colleges that wanted a bright mind that was highly motivated. Senior year she accepted an offer from University of Tokyo for a full ride scholarship (in exchange for her majoring in genetics and working for the department for 6 years after graduation). Through college she started accepting invitations to debates with various people, with some even becoming televised affairs. Her love of debate, and being right, kept her on this path and eventually she became a well known speaker for the atheist community. The past several years since graduation have been rather simple, she works at the university to try and isolate the genes that cause cancer and spends her weekends doing debates with many officials over religion. An abrasive figure to say the least she met her match at a debate in her new home of Tokyo. During a televised debate with a Muslim cleric and extremist from the crowd charged the stage, slit her throat and stabbed her 36 times before security managed to restrain him. She bled to death on live tv, the woman that dared to challenge the world. Other: She always kept a basic emergency kit in her purse (about the size of two Altoids tins) and pepper spray.
6,470	178	15	1,555	729	Before Hitomi could speak up to Alex CELL introduced itself to the group. Would she really have to kill someone? Regardless of how she felt about what she was being told to do by this mysterious person she didn't want to risk her head exploding so she decided she would follow instructions. She stood up and grabbed the case that had her suit. The clothes she had been wearing when she died were charred and only barely covered her up. She started to worry that the others might notice the fact that she's different from the other women in the room. She looked around, there was only one door that no one had tried yet. She knew the other doors didn't work but maybe this one would since it probably didn't lead out of the apartment. As the door opened Hitomi slipped in as quietly as she could. She was met with a hallway, it ended in a closet on her left and continued to her right, turning left to the rest of the apartment. Seeing as no one would consider sharing a closet to change in she quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Now that she was alone she could change without fear of being discovered. She couldn't predict how the others would react to her unique physiology but in her experience it had always led to trouble for her so she decided it would be kept a secret for as long as possible. Throwing her ragged clothes on the floor she took her first look at the suit. It seemed almost like a catsuit that a super spy would wear to her. It fit exceptionally well around her unique form, although it was a shame that she couldn't wear anything underneath. Hitomi was worried at first that the skintight suit would give her secret away but it wasn't actually noticeable. Whoever had designed the suit had clearly taken her unique form into consideration. Once she had zipped the suit up completely she felt a sharp sting in the back of her neck. It felt like a bee sting but there was nothing there and it didn't hurt after the initial sting. She seemed fine however and started back out to collect a gun. CELL said she would have to kill someone, but could she really do it?	Name: Yamada Ryota Alias/es: Sato Hitomi Age: 22 Height: 153cm (4'11") Weight: 53kg (115 lbs.) Complexion: Pale, Asian Pacific Eye Color: Dark Brown Hair Color: Auburn Apparel: Casual blouses, jean shorts, and short skirts mostly, occasionally wears summer dresses in the hotter months. Personality: Hitomi is not exactly friendly but always very polite. Having been treated as an outcast for most of her childhood led to a fear of conflict and strong personalities. She tends to err on the side of caution and rarely speaks up unless she's spoken to first. Her anti-social behavior is deeply rooted in a past history of abuse and as a result she greatly values the acceptance of others. History: Sato Hitomi was born as a young boy named Yamada Ryota. Her parents, Yusuke and Akane, were very happy to have had a son but it wasn't long until they realized that their son was different. It started with simple things. Ryota would prefer colors like pink and yellow, sometimes trying to put on girl's clothes. Her parents thought nothing of it at first, believing it to be an oddity or 'just a phase'. Soon after little Ryota had turned six he started asking to dress like a girl and refused to wear the clothes meant for boys. Little Ryota started to make proclamations that he was in fact a she. Her parents were unable to cope at first and saw fit to punish such brazen behavior with spankings. After all, spare the rod spoil the child, no? Little Ryota only cried louder until her parents finally gave in and allowed their son to dress as their daughter, if only to bring an end to the constant tantrums. At this point Hitomi was the only name she would answer to. Her father Yusuke reluctantly complied in public but at home things were very different. Her father regularly 'punished' his daughter for being 'impure' and a disappointment while her mother merely watched and did nothing. Hitomi suffered through the abuse at home and was forced to keep her identity a secret. No one could know that Yamada Yusuke's daughter was once his son. Hitomi was allowed to go to school as a girl although she was not formerly recognized as such by the school itself. The staff chose to play along in order to avoid any awkwardness. Most of the students were unaware of anything out of the ordinary, aside from her mysterious bruises which appeared from time to time. For a while Hitomi lived her life in public without any complications and was actually becoming a rather beautiful young girl despite the constant abuse she suffered at home. At the age of 14 Hitomi had begun to work part-time at a book store in order to pay for Hormone Replacement Therapy, which allowed her body to develop as a girl. Later in her first year of high school there was an incident that changed her life. A new trend of pranks had been going around where boys would invade the girls bathroom and take pictures of them on the toilet. Hitomi had unfortunately been a victim of such a prank which led to the discovery of her male genetalia and the news spread across the school like wildfire. It wasn't long before the bullying started and soon after that her parents got word of what was happening at school. This only made her father more furious with her and increased the severity of his 'punishments'. After a few months of being treated like trash at home and at school Hitomi finally decided to drop out of school and was summarily kicked out of her home for doing so. Having no where else to go she pleaded with the book-store owner Sato Hiroshi to take her in and so he did. They lived together until Mr. Sato, who was already well into his seventies at the time, had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Now that Mr. Sato was dying he saw fit to give everything to the only family he had. Hitomi took his name and was granted ownership of the book store "Sato Books". She has since lived her life alone running her book store. Other:
6,471	178	16	827	308	Instead of getting a constructive introduction session that expected of the room, one of the women began crying, and the same arrogant woman from before began speculating that their entire situation had been some random act perpetuated by the Japanese Mafia. Then she asked if he knew anything about them, which was hilariously coincidental, seeing as the Yakuza had been an obsession of his for a while now. “The Yakuza? I mean, yeah, they’re rich and powerful, but this is just crazy, even for them. Those two in the back just fuckin’ popped up! Kidnapped people don’t just come out of no where like that. This can’t be the Yakuza. I wasn’t even wearing that coat before I passed. And I’m still wearing the same clothes I passed out in, just like all of you.” He said, noting everyone’s bloodied and torn clothes, and holding up his torn and blood soaked shirt. “Not to mention, force fields? This isn’t the work of some sort of syndicated criminal organization, and I have my doubts about any government hand in this. This could be something beyond our comprehension..” He stepped back a bit, thinking a bit. “Could their be any connections between us? I assume all of we know Japanese, and seeing as we’re in Tokyo, or at least appear to be, we must all be Japanese nationals.” He looked at the two white women again. ‘Er, Japanese citizens, at least.” Before he could continue speaking, the laptop chirped the life, warranting the entire room to turn their head in attention. A picture of a girl was on screen, barking orders at them, and the threat of their head exploding if they disobeyed. She confirmed they were dead, and that they all belonged to her, Cell. She opened the box revealing weapons the likes of which he had never seen before, along with some sort of skin tight suits. He stared at the now quiet computer, that had a picture of a man they were supposed to kill, and the box, full of the strange equipment. One of the white women stepped forward, and grabbed a gun, expressing that she wasn’t taking any chances. He could share that sentiment. “We’re dead, and now we have to kill someone? Holy shit.” He murmured to himself, stroking his chin. The women who had been crying before, stood, trying her best to cover up with her burnt clothes. He remembered he had heard about a fire during the day in the office, but nothing much else. It would be a long shot to say that that woman would be from that fire, but Takeda wouldn’t be surprised otherwise. The woman grabbed a suit, examined it, and went towards a door, opening it and walking through, to the surprise of Takeda. He walked over, and opened the door, seeing what was on the other side. It was a hallway, with a closet at the end. No closer to getting out of the apartment. Takeda went back to the room to check out his own suit, as it appeared that there was one in a specific size for everyone. The girl that had been in the pillows had gotten up, and held hers up, commenting how she preferred dresses. Takeda gave a silent smirk, and walked up to the back to grab his own suit, digging through the others, until he found on that seemed to be his size. “You don’t think I’ll be able to get my suit in this do you?’ He joked meekly. He tried to put it on, hoping that it would stretch around his current apparel, but it didn’t distort at all. It was meant to fit only one shape, and it appeared to be his naked body. He could feel his face warm up a bit, thinking about undressing around all the women in the room, but he didn’t want to show his shyness. “Well, I guess we’ll take turns in the closet eh?”	Name: Takeda Hitoshi Jr. Alias/es: Tack, Age: 27 Height:5’9 Weight: 175 pounds, or 79 kilos Complexion: Standard, Asian Tan, or ‘yellow’ if you will, complexion Eye Color:Dark brown Hair Color: Black Apparel: The coat and such in the above picture, but with the normal black pants and dress shoes. Off duty, he’d wear various colors of t-shirts and many kinds of shorts. Personality: Takeda can manage to, most of the time, change his personality to suit the situation. Most of the time, Takeda will be quiet and very observative, taking mental notes of certain quirks and quips of the people and places that surround him. He can do a good job handling his temper, and not many things can solicit an emotional response from him. That’s not to say he’s some sort of emotionless robot, but in his line of work, he’s learned to focus more on what needs to be done versus what needs to be felt. Even with all his training, Takeda can sometimes still lose his composure in stressful situations, but it isn’t an extremely common happening. He doesn’t tend to let his guard down around others, and doesn’t get very attached to anyone very easily. He’d rather know people better than they know him. Takeda tries his hardest to be fair and logical most of the time, but he’s still human, even if he doesn’t allow himself to be. When dealing with criminals, on the other had, Takeda has a habit of losing his cool very quickly. History: Takeda was born in the bustling Tokyo prefecture of Japan. Takeda was a summer baby, born on a beautiful, sunny day in June. His parents were the normal, trope-esque pair of hard working Japanese people, his father a beat cop and his mother a triage nurse. His infancy and childhood could be considered the perfect upbringing for a new, Japanese urbanite: calm and nurturing, with loving parents who wanted nothing more than for their little son to grow up and be the best that he could be. Even with their busy and unpredictable work hours, Takeda’s parents did their best to always be there for their child, making sure he never felt alone or uncared for in the crazy world. Always full of stories to tell about wacky and scary encounters on the job, Takeda’s father was probably the biggest influence on the young boy’s ambitions, and he decided fairly early that he wanted to help the community and join law enforcement, following in the footsteps of his father. It wasn’t until his high school years that Takeda’s quaint life received its first huge shake up. Takeda Sr. was on call to a domestic assault call, when in the process of looking for a weapon, he found a large amount of drugs in the house. When he questioned the owner of the house, it quickly got violent, with the two men engaging in a fist fight that ended in Takeda Sr. being stabbed multiple times, and the owner of the house being shot to death by the back-up officers that arrived on scene. Takeda Jr. found out through his mother, who was the nurse on scene when Sr. made his way into the ER. The injuries were severe, but not life-threatening. Takeda Sr. would spend a few weeks in recovery, before it was found that the man that was killed was an important middle man in a large drug trade linked to cartels in Mexico and the Yakuza there in Japan. Seeing the hero that was his father stricken so weak and injured at the hands of criminals angered Takeda greatly, and eliminated any doubts he had about joining law enforcement. He wasn’t just going to be a police officer like his father was, he was going to join the Criminal Investigation Bureau and go a step farther to eliminate the drug trade in his area, to keep anyone from facing what his family faced, or worse. After high school, Takeda headed straight to the university to study Criminology, and as soon as he had his 4 year, Takeda applied for the CIB Academy, and went straight into training for his dream job. The months of hour upon hour of training and drilling were some of the best months in his life, meeting fellow agents that had similar experiences to his, dealing with the negative effects of crime and those who committed it. Once he finally made it, Takeda went straight to work following leads on the drug trade in the area of his home prefecture and it’s connections to the rest of the world, especially to the United States and Mexico. As the Bureau got deeper and deeper into this dark underworld, it became more and more obvious that they had exposed a drug operation much larger than the likes they had seen in Japan ever before. This case could make history in all of Japan, and he was one of the biggest players in it, even at such an inexperienced state. He had already made his family proud by going beyond their accomplishments and being a detective in the CIB, so that was the lest of his worries now. The only thing that mattered to him now was dismantling organized crime in Tokyo, and then in Japan. By now he's spent a few years knee deep, and he loves it. Other: Can’ think of anything.
6,472	178	17	1,555	729	Gokyo Itachi Itachi was a simple man who lived his life doing normal things. He worked hard and cared for his family like any good man would. So why was he trapped in this crazy nightmare? Hadn't he done right by his family? Had he wronged someone unknowingly and now had to pay the price? This whole thing was bullshit! He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it! "To hell with this, I'm outta here. You just try and stop me from that computer you freak! Itachi started for the door but froze in the middle of the room. A sharp pain in his skull and he collapsed to his knees. Suddenly without warning his head erupted, spewing blood across the room. His headless body slumped lifelessly onto the floor, ending him then and there. Karime "Haruka" Ochiro Having witnessed such a terrible thing Karime could no longer keep up her collected facade. She screamed as the blood spilled out of the man's lifeless body. Despite having been a star once upon a time, her true self was much more fragile. "I want to go home! Someone get me out of here! CELL you monster get me out of here right now!" She was desperate, wishing, hoping for someone or something to free her of this nightmare. Anything would be better than whatever this was. "Just kill me please!" As soon as she finished her sentence a sharp pain appeared in her skull. She cried out and then... Sato Hitomi Hitomi walked in to the room just in time to witness both of their heads explode in front of her. It was a horrible sight, the majority of the room had bloodstains from the gore. CELL had been telling the truth after all. Hitomi felt nauseous but didn't dare to speak out against CELL. She resisted the urge to throw up on the floor, covering her mouth and turning away. If there was any doubt of who was in charge before it was gone now. She and the rest of them belonged to CELL, and if any of them didn't like it they would end up like those two. CHIME "I did tell you what would happen. Stupid people don't listen. You have ten more minutes."	Name: Yamada Ryota Alias/es: Sato Hitomi Age: 22 Height: 153cm (4'11") Weight: 53kg (115 lbs.) Complexion: Pale, Asian Pacific Eye Color: Dark Brown Hair Color: Auburn Apparel: Casual blouses, jean shorts, and short skirts mostly, occasionally wears summer dresses in the hotter months. Personality: Hitomi is not exactly friendly but always very polite. Having been treated as an outcast for most of her childhood led to a fear of conflict and strong personalities. She tends to err on the side of caution and rarely speaks up unless she's spoken to first. Her anti-social behavior is deeply rooted in a past history of abuse and as a result she greatly values the acceptance of others. History: Sato Hitomi was born as a young boy named Yamada Ryota. Her parents, Yusuke and Akane, were very happy to have had a son but it wasn't long until they realized that their son was different. It started with simple things. Ryota would prefer colors like pink and yellow, sometimes trying to put on girl's clothes. Her parents thought nothing of it at first, believing it to be an oddity or 'just a phase'. Soon after little Ryota had turned six he started asking to dress like a girl and refused to wear the clothes meant for boys. Little Ryota started to make proclamations that he was in fact a she. Her parents were unable to cope at first and saw fit to punish such brazen behavior with spankings. After all, spare the rod spoil the child, no? Little Ryota only cried louder until her parents finally gave in and allowed their son to dress as their daughter, if only to bring an end to the constant tantrums. At this point Hitomi was the only name she would answer to. Her father Yusuke reluctantly complied in public but at home things were very different. Her father regularly 'punished' his daughter for being 'impure' and a disappointment while her mother merely watched and did nothing. Hitomi suffered through the abuse at home and was forced to keep her identity a secret. No one could know that Yamada Yusuke's daughter was once his son. Hitomi was allowed to go to school as a girl although she was not formerly recognized as such by the school itself. The staff chose to play along in order to avoid any awkwardness. Most of the students were unaware of anything out of the ordinary, aside from her mysterious bruises which appeared from time to time. For a while Hitomi lived her life in public without any complications and was actually becoming a rather beautiful young girl despite the constant abuse she suffered at home. At the age of 14 Hitomi had begun to work part-time at a book store in order to pay for Hormone Replacement Therapy, which allowed her body to develop as a girl. Later in her first year of high school there was an incident that changed her life. A new trend of pranks had been going around where boys would invade the girls bathroom and take pictures of them on the toilet. Hitomi had unfortunately been a victim of such a prank which led to the discovery of her male genetalia and the news spread across the school like wildfire. It wasn't long before the bullying started and soon after that her parents got word of what was happening at school. This only made her father more furious with her and increased the severity of his 'punishments'. After a few months of being treated like trash at home and at school Hitomi finally decided to drop out of school and was summarily kicked out of her home for doing so. Having no where else to go she pleaded with the book-store owner Sato Hiroshi to take her in and so he did. They lived together until Mr. Sato, who was already well into his seventies at the time, had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Now that Mr. Sato was dying he saw fit to give everything to the only family he had. Hitomi took his name and was granted ownership of the book store "Sato Books". She has since lived her life alone running her book store. Other:
6,473	178	18	827	308	As Takeda was examining his suit, a raised voice caught his attention. The man in the corner had gotten up, and began to shout that he refused to do what he was told, and dared the computer to stop him. He walked for the door, and Takeda tried to move in to stop him, but the man collapsed immediately, and as he fell, his head detonated, showering Takeda and the rest of the room in blood and grey matter. Takeda froze for a second, feeling the warm fluid drip all over him, nauseated and terrified all at the same time. Suddenly, the girl across the room spoke up, screaming completely out of her calmer disposition. She asked to be killed, simply, and thus, she was. She dropped limp, same as the man, and head detonated, coating him in a second layer of blood and matter. Takeda could not move, nor speak, only stood. After what felt like an eternity had passed, and with one of the women leaning over a gagging, one of Takeda’s shaky hands slowly found his way to his face, and wiped the blood from his face and eyes, and he began to spit whatever he had in his mouth out. The spitting quickly turned to gagging. Takeda took a few staggered steps to the wall, bracing himself against the wall, bent over, heaving. Curses flowed out of his mouth in place of any actual vomit, the exploding heads playing over and over in his head. He thought of his head exploding, and it horrified him further, how close to second death they all were. He wondered if it would be better if he just asked to die himself, just to escape whatever Cell had planned for him. His arm losing its strength, and his legs beginning to shiver, and soon he slid down the wall, curling up on the floor. He couldn’t stop shaking, and the blood on him was making him cold and wet. Without taking his head from his in between his arms, he simply shouted to the others. “Let’s just do what he says! We need eachother to survive whatever this is that we’re in!” The words came out of him surprisingly strong, seeing as he was close to sobbing himself. He just wanted the nightmare to be over, and it hadn’t really even started yet.	Name: Takeda Hitoshi Jr. Alias/es: Tack, Age: 27 Height:5’9 Weight: 175 pounds, or 79 kilos Complexion: Standard, Asian Tan, or ‘yellow’ if you will, complexion Eye Color:Dark brown Hair Color: Black Apparel: The coat and such in the above picture, but with the normal black pants and dress shoes. Off duty, he’d wear various colors of t-shirts and many kinds of shorts. Personality: Takeda can manage to, most of the time, change his personality to suit the situation. Most of the time, Takeda will be quiet and very observative, taking mental notes of certain quirks and quips of the people and places that surround him. He can do a good job handling his temper, and not many things can solicit an emotional response from him. That’s not to say he’s some sort of emotionless robot, but in his line of work, he’s learned to focus more on what needs to be done versus what needs to be felt. Even with all his training, Takeda can sometimes still lose his composure in stressful situations, but it isn’t an extremely common happening. He doesn’t tend to let his guard down around others, and doesn’t get very attached to anyone very easily. He’d rather know people better than they know him. Takeda tries his hardest to be fair and logical most of the time, but he’s still human, even if he doesn’t allow himself to be. When dealing with criminals, on the other had, Takeda has a habit of losing his cool very quickly. History: Takeda was born in the bustling Tokyo prefecture of Japan. Takeda was a summer baby, born on a beautiful, sunny day in June. His parents were the normal, trope-esque pair of hard working Japanese people, his father a beat cop and his mother a triage nurse. His infancy and childhood could be considered the perfect upbringing for a new, Japanese urbanite: calm and nurturing, with loving parents who wanted nothing more than for their little son to grow up and be the best that he could be. Even with their busy and unpredictable work hours, Takeda’s parents did their best to always be there for their child, making sure he never felt alone or uncared for in the crazy world. Always full of stories to tell about wacky and scary encounters on the job, Takeda’s father was probably the biggest influence on the young boy’s ambitions, and he decided fairly early that he wanted to help the community and join law enforcement, following in the footsteps of his father. It wasn’t until his high school years that Takeda’s quaint life received its first huge shake up. Takeda Sr. was on call to a domestic assault call, when in the process of looking for a weapon, he found a large amount of drugs in the house. When he questioned the owner of the house, it quickly got violent, with the two men engaging in a fist fight that ended in Takeda Sr. being stabbed multiple times, and the owner of the house being shot to death by the back-up officers that arrived on scene. Takeda Jr. found out through his mother, who was the nurse on scene when Sr. made his way into the ER. The injuries were severe, but not life-threatening. Takeda Sr. would spend a few weeks in recovery, before it was found that the man that was killed was an important middle man in a large drug trade linked to cartels in Mexico and the Yakuza there in Japan. Seeing the hero that was his father stricken so weak and injured at the hands of criminals angered Takeda greatly, and eliminated any doubts he had about joining law enforcement. He wasn’t just going to be a police officer like his father was, he was going to join the Criminal Investigation Bureau and go a step farther to eliminate the drug trade in his area, to keep anyone from facing what his family faced, or worse. After high school, Takeda headed straight to the university to study Criminology, and as soon as he had his 4 year, Takeda applied for the CIB Academy, and went straight into training for his dream job. The months of hour upon hour of training and drilling were some of the best months in his life, meeting fellow agents that had similar experiences to his, dealing with the negative effects of crime and those who committed it. Once he finally made it, Takeda went straight to work following leads on the drug trade in the area of his home prefecture and it’s connections to the rest of the world, especially to the United States and Mexico. As the Bureau got deeper and deeper into this dark underworld, it became more and more obvious that they had exposed a drug operation much larger than the likes they had seen in Japan ever before. This case could make history in all of Japan, and he was one of the biggest players in it, even at such an inexperienced state. He had already made his family proud by going beyond their accomplishments and being a detective in the CIB, so that was the lest of his worries now. The only thing that mattered to him now was dismantling organized crime in Tokyo, and then in Japan. By now he's spent a few years knee deep, and he loves it. Other: Can’ think of anything.
6,474	178	19	1,220	545	Arielle dropped the gun on the floor in shock at the sight around her. Her hands shook violently as she steadied herself on the cage. Her mind raced as it sought out any possible reason for this, and who could do such a thing. It was clear they weren't really dead, after all a bound form of energy (soul) wouldn't have enough mass to explode. She shook her head violently to clear her mind. This was no time to think about why. She had to focus on surviving this hell. She would have to play along in order to at least stand a chance to live. She thought of her mothers at home right now. Mimi was probably serving tea to mom right now as she read the latest magazine from the news stand down the street. The small house would look very bright as the afternoon light streamed into the central atrium, and Mimi's bamboo garden would be casting a soft green glow from the sun. Arielle couldn't let them down. Her mother had lived through hell with her father beating her endlessly. If she could handle that and live in peace afterwards her daughter better damn well be able to do the same. Without giving herself a chance to think she hurriedly, and shakily, dropped her bloody clothes and put on the suit that looked her size. Its pressure around her almost seemed calming as she closed it, like a baby being swaddled or her mom's tight hugs she greeted anyone with (integration had not been her strongest suit). Picking up a gun that resembled a sniper rifle she took deep breaths. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, just like Mimi had taught her. This was no time to think about what was going on. She made the conscious choice to devote all her thoughts to her wonderful life and a way to get the h*ll out of this mess. She picked up her purse and swung it over her shoulder, pulled out a black scrungie and tied back her hair into a bun. Holding the gun close to her chest she leaned against the wall and took deep breaths, meditating quietly and trying her best to keep her racing mind from going anywhere she didn't want it to.	Name: Arielle Bellemont Alias/es: Arie Age: 26 Height: 5' 8" Weight: 135 Lbs Complexion: Alabaster pale Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Brunette Apparel: As pictured above, except she is wearing full length skinny jeans. She does not believe in luck, but always keeps a pocket emergency kit in her purse and a copy of "The God Delusion" Personality: Analytical to a fault she overthinks everything, often getting lost in her own thoughts in the process. She really is kind hearted, and wishes people the best, but her serious personality can make her hard to work with. Sarcasm and abstract humor go over her head, and as a result she can take offence where none was meant. Or even worse she tries to be funny but it comes out wrong and offends those around her. As a result she tends to speak more formally than the average person, hoping her words have the appropriate meaning to the person she is talking to. Though she does look down on the religious as "thoughtless" she can still be professional and fully cooperate with them. Most of all though she loves being right and will correct people without invitation. History: Arielle was born in Osaka to a loving mother and an abusive Evangelical father, both originally from France. At age 2 her mother ran away, taking the young Arielle with her. By age 4 her mother had settled down with a new lover, a woman named Narumi (or as Arielle called her "Mimi"). These women are the only family she ever remembers and for this she is very glad, but knowledge of her father's abuse and repression of her mother gave her a hatred of religion. A natural student she always got high marks in school and would spend her free time reading all sorts of books. Despite being at best middle class somehow her mothers both ensured that their daughter had all the books she could ever want, which meant her tiny bedroom resembled a library with a small bed in it. In high school she discovered her two true loves, genetics and debate. Even while keeping up he grades she took part in the debate team, though she never won any awards. Her junior year her name became well known in Japan when she published an open letter to a Catholic Cardinal, and the story took off in the media. The letter was outright blasphemy and accused the Catholic church, point blank, of preventing social progress and hypocrisy, using genetics to attempt to disprove Adam and Eve among other things. The scathing letter earned her a fair number of haters, but also attracted colleges that wanted a bright mind that was highly motivated. Senior year she accepted an offer from University of Tokyo for a full ride scholarship (in exchange for her majoring in genetics and working for the department for 6 years after graduation). Through college she started accepting invitations to debates with various people, with some even becoming televised affairs. Her love of debate, and being right, kept her on this path and eventually she became a well known speaker for the atheist community. The past several years since graduation have been rather simple, she works at the university to try and isolate the genes that cause cancer and spends her weekends doing debates with many officials over religion. An abrasive figure to say the least she met her match at a debate in her new home of Tokyo. During a televised debate with a Muslim cleric and extremist from the crowd charged the stage, slit her throat and stabbed her 36 times before security managed to restrain him. She bled to death on live tv, the woman that dared to challenge the world. Other: She always kept a basic emergency kit in her purse (about the size of two Altoids tins) and pepper spray.
6,475	179	0	130	491	Catheryn First row, back seat. That's the spot Catheryn claimed for herself in Mr. Q's Math Class. The plain-white classroom was less than empty, it was a fluorescent void that would suck the energy out of any student that took the time to really think about it. The small framed girl was no exception, and while she scanned the room for familiar faces whom seemed absorbed in their work, she couldn't help but drop her head to the desk below in pure disappointment. The sound of her forehead slamming against the desk was heavy, heavier than her small head should have been capable of. It was loud enough to make the large-dark-suited-man quietly pace down the first row's aisle to make his way towards her desk. The sounds of heavy breathing, groaning, and snoring, all emitted from the now sleeping girl. This wasn't unusual, Catheryn did not discriminate, she'd have her nappy time in what ever class she deemed to feel tired in. More importantly Mr. Q was one of the only teachers that took the time to wake the girl up, usually involving the dropping of a heavy textbook on her desk or the sudden and abrupt drop of his dark brown fist onto the table. Either would usually do the trick in waking the poor girl, but today was a rare occurrence in which this math teacher just didn't feel like making an effort. So instead, he looked over towards Aalis, since she was Catheryn's friend. "Make sure to wake her up before my next class starts." He stated, bluntly in a deep baritone voice. Sounding more like a soldier than a teacher. As Mr. Q made his way back towards the front of his class, the sleeping girl shuffled in her rest, probably in an attempt to get more comfortable. Turning her head now to face the second row of student, she visibly smiled in her sleeping, pursing her lips together and muttering intangible words to herself. Finally her eyes would open briefly, the paper on her desk sticking to her face momentarily as she pulled her head from the table. "You've gotta take a deep breath, and then tighten your chest.. Right below your boobs. Then release, keep doing that and you'll get better Ash---" The pointless mutterings had been directed at nobody, but her forearm rose to offer her semi-sleeping head a spot to support itself. ~Ringidingring~ Almost instinctually, Catheryn's body reanimated into a smiling joyous girl. Waving over to Aalis as she ran to towards the door of the classroom, her friend would see that some of the ink from her paper had transferred onto her cheek in a blueish black color. Rather than math being imprinted onto her cheek, it was a doodle of a stick figure holding another stick figure's head in it's right hand. "Lunch time!"	- Catheryn - "An axe drenched in blood easily finds its mark." Age: Sixteen years old. Gender: Female ♀ --- - Aspect of... Brynhildr! - Form of Aspect: The Battle-Axe Hindarfjall Appearance of Aspect: Hindarfjall spans at 5' in length from its head to the end of its haft. Decorated and crafted with different shades of black and grey, the weapon's dark-hued iron shimmers in sunlight to express the owner's dedication to keep it in prime condition. At it's blades, the only hints of color are the emerald green detail that marks where the handle of the blade conjoins the axe, while along the edge appears to be runes written in gold. Named after the mountain where Brynhildr once lived, it represents the strength to endeavor through challenges and hardship, and the patience and trust towards her allies to help her through them. Xeno: Darra Tharlioth is the gift bestowed on Catheryn from Bryhildr, granting her the ability to perform war songs like the valkyries of old. While these simple tunes may not be your fancy on the battlefield, they are both uplifting and rejuvenative for herself and those around her. Grani is the horse that helped save Brynhildr from her resting place, and is the gift shared between Catheryn and her Weapon. While not taking the form of a horse, the horse in which Odin claimed to be 'the best of all horses' lives on resting in Essence within the wielded axe. When called upon by Catheryn, the horse's spirit awakens from within the weapon and grants the armed warrior an immense increase in speed and stamina. --- Personal Skills: Axemanship Bartering/Persuasion Perversion Cooking Meat Some Martial Arts Generic Survivalist Stuff Personal Belongings: Mom's Lockbox: A small brass container, locked and without a key. Finding it wrong to pry or break the keepsake from her mother open, Catheryn simply holds it as a reminder to let go of her former life and focus on her new one. Several peers of her have tried to steal this item to discover it's contents, though many of them find a grisly ending.. totally not death. Additional Info: ~
6,476	179	1	986	1,744	Je vous jure que l'horloge a arrêté au moins deux fois... Keepa tapped the eraser of their pencil against the otherwise blank page of their diary which sat inside a larger notebook which had pages filled with drafts of a thesis and abbreviation of an outline written sideways at the top of the page. With one hand propping their head up and elbow on the desk, the other ink black hand and arm fiddled with the pencil. The area between the elbow and shoulder was still plated, hinting to the rest having recently been cut off in a fight...the reason for being late to school, today. Thankfully, such reasons often pass because of the reality of their occurrence as well as Mr. H, Hawlaines Krail, who had stepped out for the moment while the class worked on their term papers, allowing Keepa to find a seat relatively unnoticed. Mr. H had a weird way of timing his "smoke breaks" conveniently around the time late arrivals show up. He seemed to have a great interest in the duels, and referred to Keepa's arm as his 'pass', jokingly. There were suspicions of him either being a part of, or maybe even running a gambling ring with the teachers, but the rumors were unfounded and unimportant. Keepa had managed to complete most of the preparation part of the project, so the hard part, now, was finding time out of their busy schedule of procrastinating and getting into fights over their appearance or gender. They tentatively watched the clock, face boredly smooshing into a funny expression as they tried to remember what time- ~Ringidingring!~ The sudden, unexpected bell jolted Keepa out of their daydream, their hand flicking the pencil into the air and sticking into a ceiling panel out of surprise. Everyone else was piling out of the room and hopefully nobody saw. Quickly packing up to make their escape, Keepa couldn't help but notice that the hand had wasted the rest of the page with a sketch of an ouroboros. It happened more often than you'd think, often when they had a writing utensil and were daydreaming. It also didn't help that Keepa was left handed, giving the Aspect free reign on anything in its grip when the "wielder" wasn't paying attention. Shaking their head as they stuffed everything into the messenger bag, they grumbled a soft "I wonder if anyone else has zeis sort of problem..." and headed off to lunch. ~~~~~ Pizza line...alacarte...pizza line...oh, one for main lunch- nope, pizza line. I stood back from the swell, gauging how classmates valued their typical pizza or whatever ghastly slop they served at alacarte upon request. I, on the other hand, had eyes for another; the sleek and fit club sandwich (which I suppose was more lettuce than pepperoni and ham to account for weight), carefully wrapped and set in a pile of its brethren next to a deep pot containing the most recent batch of the soup of the day. I had lost track of the day and my hopes for clam chowder were snuffed underneath a tidal-wave of Chicken Wild Rice. No complaints...and barely a line, to boot! I took a moment to check the tally, finding that I had been doodling ouroburo serpents all over the section otherwise reserved for keeping count whilst daydreaming of surfing a sandwich on an ocean of soup. Gawd, I'm hungry. I would be annoyed if it wasn't so darn good at drawing with its machinelike precision which still creeped me out, sometimes. I forgave the hand and concluded that only the group's decisions would matter today, on this glorious day of chicken wild rice...if only I knew where they were. Sheathing my instruments of bookkeeping, I began to make my way across the cafeteria towards the Soup&Sandwich line.	Keepa stands at 5'7. Under the attire, Wynne wears lightly armored combat webbing to hide their otherwise exposed middrift between their short sleeveless shirt and black pleated skirt. Also wears mid-thigh socks and snug-fitting knee-high boots which have a slight heel on them (for that extra inch). General attire changes occasionally and will be explained as it does. ~ Keepakura Wynne Lumiere ~ Motto: "You first need to reach the head of the snake before you can cut it off" Age 16 Gender: ---- ~ Aspect of...Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye ~ Form of Aspect The Blessing of Ouroboros Appearance of Aspect The aspect takes the form of Keepa's left arm which is fixed to a prosthetic mount replacing their shoulder after a duel that went south. Previously, the Aspect was a gauntlet, but without a tie to the wielder upon which to affix itself (namely a hand with a pulse) it became their new arm. The arm has doll-like joints and hinges capable of reaching beyond normal human anatomy. It possesses a porcelain smoothness and shine with the only detraction being a dark mass which can sometimes be seen through the material to be swirling; writhing, like a snake coiling and shifting in a tight container, this appearance shifts with mood and occurs everywhere from the shoulder mount to the tips of the fingers. The fingers have slight claw-like points to them, not enough to be dangerous...unless gripping something with enough deliberate force. Xeno The dark mass within the arm can reveal itself to be the blessing, forcing the plating apart as it uncoils and stretching a distance of around 10-15ft to use its mass and the clinging plates of the arm's frame as an animated whip of sorts. The internal mass is ink black with the apparent texture of scales while the pinky of the finger shifts next to the thumb to form a serpent's head; the fingers parting between the three remaining knuckles to give the appearance of slit eyes which match similar slits on either side of the hand. True to the aspect of a serpent, the spiked fingertips course and drip with a murky violet liquid which evaporates after short exposure to air. A "bite" from the newly formed head can be quite painful from the vicious force of the spiked finger-fangs which dig deep and are loath to let go after finding its mark. The Plates of the arm are capable of sustaining severe punishment, though the serpent-like mass they're bound to slices like normal flesh although with a bit less give. Severed chunks rapidly petrify and deteriorates to ash, plates and all. However, the stub of the arm rapidly gains characteristics of the previous hand, although thinner or shorter. To balance this injury process, the violet liquid which drips from the serpent's fangs breaks down inanimate matter for consumption by the arm, restoring its mass proportionately but with a distinct taste for metal. Consumption through these means can cause the arm to grow up to twice its 'normal' size. Leftover mass from over-consumption can easily be 'shed' restoring the arm to its original shape, although the doll-like armor plates slowly grow back over the course of the hour as the serpent properly digests and sheds. Alternatively, in the first few seconds of consuming material, especially metal, said material can be expelled as a projectile. While this violet 'venom' has no effect on humans, likely due to oxygen content in blood quickly counteracting its effects as it dissipates, residual venom can leave unseemly pock-marks on armor or surfaces it strikes...assuming there is any left by the time the projectile makes contact. ---- Personal Skills Tailoring Word-craft Martial Arts Contortionism Acrobatics Cooking mostly anything that can go over noodles "microwave eggs in a cup" Reaching things on the top shelf "Disguise" Personal Belongings A black leather messenger bag slung to the right containing... - Assorted school supplies - Silver-adorned pocketwatch with picture of parents, inside - Small camper's pocket knife (Fork, spoon, knife, can opener, scissors) - Pink and lime green plaid diary (in French) Additional Info - French accent - Takes advantage of androgynous appearance both ways. Many from both genders find Keepa's qualities and mannerisms oddly alluring, although Keepa's actual gender remains a mystery. (Subject to additions and/or changes)
6,477	179	2	2,798	1,688	As usual for the weekday, Clark was at school and attending class like a student should be rather than doing something “interesting” with his time. He wasn’t exactly the ideal student, fiddling around with apps on his tablet almost as much as he used it for notes by the window side. but generally the teachers took what they could get from the Aspects. He did wonder where the Academy had found such teachers though. Some of them looked and acted more like mercenaries than civilians, including the one currently teaching his class. Miss. Heid, science department, good at teaching and getting points across, doesn’t really try to connect with students, carries herself like a combatant at times. That was about all Clark could really tell about her, and though he was curious about the staff that taught at the school he never really tried to pry further. He couldn’t imagine them simply being “regular” teachers, not if they had been posted to an island to watch over and educated children with the power of myths, but it was for that reason he also never tried to dig deeper. The lunch bell rang just then, its shrill ringing no doubt waking any students that had fell asleep and bringing an end to the first half of the school day. The teacher wished the class a good lunch as usual before leaving the room and the students to their own devices, to which Clark sighed. He didn’t really dislike any of the teachers at the Academy, but he couldn’t help but be suspicious of authority figures on the island. Pushing those conspiracy theory worthy thoughts away for now, he focused on the present. While some hung back in the classroom to chat and socialize, Clark followed a sizable group of his classmates down to the cafeteria. Coming down from the fourth floor, talk was basically about whatever topic was brought up and he joined in with whatever rumors or information he had come across. The biggest talked about topic was the Duel that had happened between members of the cabals of Xerxes and Vlad recently. Apparently it’d been big enough that a member of the Knights of the Round had stepped in to interfere. Clark couldn’t say if the gossip was truth or not, but it was interesting to hear about at the least. When the group reached the cafeteria though, it mostly dispersed as students fell away to meet with friends in other grades or to grab their food. Given the cafeteria provided a wide selection, even if the one portion rule made deciding exactly what to have somewhat difficult at times, it was rare that he and his classmates would stick together once inside. He didn’t particularly mind what he ate as long as it wasn’t disgusting, and so Clark always chose whichever line was the shortest. Today it just happened to be the sandwich and soup line, and he found himself falling in step with a familiar face as he approached the station. “Hey, Keepa.”	Hawawa. - Name - Clark Walter Motto: “There’s generally something new to find if you’ll just reach forward.” Age: 18 Gender: Male --- - Aspect of... Santa Claus!- Form of Aspect: The Bottomless Bag of Gifts (BBG, Not actual name) Appearance of Aspect:A large red fleece bag with a white trim at the top and two white pom-poms at the end of a red drawstring. The bag is quite large, about 6’ in length and 3’ across, and it always looks full. Opening it reveals a bag full of presents to outside observers, despite it being empty in reality. While Clark manages to carry it around with seemingly no trouble, anyone will find themselves to unable to move the bag or access its contents. It has little value as a weapon, as despite being “full” it hits with as much weight as an empty fleece bag. It is just as durable as other Weapons though, and can be used effectively for defense given it’s large area and light weight. Xeno: Gratuitous Gift Giving (GGG) is the ability shared between Clark and his “weapon”. As its name implies, the ability allows for Clark to reach into the BBG and pull out a random gift of some beneficial value. He’s generally unable to influence the type of “gift” he pulls free, save for special circumstances like being in combat. While the limits of this ability have yet to be explored, Clark seems to have discovered some guidelines for how it functions.All items, be they magical or mundane, drawn out are consumables, a one-time use. Food and medicine seem to be the most common objects pulled out.The BBG has a daily usage of between 5-10 times. Upon reaching the limit, any further attempts for items will result in coal. Any items drawn out will expire and vanish at the end of 24 hours, meaning stockpiling is sadly not possible.While weapons are possible, they do not seem to appear unless within a combat situation. Those that are drawn are always non-lethal in nature. Generally grenades of some type. Magical results have varied from an ethereal bow that shot a single arrow that rooted his enemy with spectral chains, to a crystal hammer that shattered on impact but released a powerful shockwave.Odds seem to be something along the lines of a 50/50 chance for food or medicine, with an unnoticeable chance for other items. In combat the odds change to 25/25/50 for food, medicine, and weapons. Magical items seem to appear with a 10% chance at all times.I Go Anywhere (IGA) is the ability given to Clark as the Aspect of Santa Claus. It allows for him to unlock or, in the case of magic, dispel any non-offensive security measures in place at any residence. Residence being defined as any place or object designed/intended to house people (RV, trailers, mental hospitals, hotels, etc.). While he still has to deal with offensive security measures on his own, even the most advanced locks will simply fall open for him. Creations by other Aspects will give him more trouble, but ultimately fall as well unless they have some sort of conceptual backing that clashes with IGA. --- Personal Skills: A fairly good cook. Not everything he pulls out is ready to eat. Means he's fairly good at setting up a makeshift kitchen.Brawling. He might not look it, but Clark can throw down fairly well. While his Xeno can help him in combat, it's not something he can solely rely on. To that end, he's a decent unarmed combatant, even if it may not be all that effective against other Aspects.A fairly good swimmer, even if not in the competitive sense. While he doesn't train for it, the fact that he's on an island means he doesn't have to go far to go for a swim.An academic. One of the students that attends the academy daily, he's fairly smart and generally one of the top in his classes. Good with extremes in temperatures. He doesn't particularly mind the weather being at either extreme, though he does prefer the cold over heat. He regularly goes for swims in the ocean, even when the temperatures drop to near or below freezing.Somewhat of a good burglar, even if he isn't really proud of it. He can pick more mundane locks without the assistance of his Xeno, thanks to the fact that's he's observed plenty of locks being opened by it. Personal Belongings:Brought a fair bit of stuff to the Academy with him under the assumption he’d be there for a few years. Quickly realized it was good idea, since things were literally good for a day. Still pretty annoyed they took all his clothes though, so now he’s stuck shelling out a chunk of his stipend for god damn clothes.On his person at basically all times:• His cellphone with a wallet case. Holds stuff like IDs, and other important stuff. (Lock picking tools included.) • A pair of earbuds. • Gerber Multi-tool because there’s something in there that you’re going to eventually need. • A very nice Casio watch. Quite useful for other things aside from keeping time. • A plain grey baseball cap. • An old and well-used, but still functioning Zippo. There seems to have been an engraving, but it's too worn away to read anymore. • A pen-pencil, both pen and pencil in one convenient piece. Along with that he carries a small notepad for easier and quicker notes than resorting to his phone.A sizable Swiss Gear backpack. Keeps the following things inside:• A tablet, for use at school and recreation. • Stationery for school. A few lead pencils, a few pens, a ruler, a pair of scissors, etc. Also has a few hundred unused pages of paper through notebooks. • An umbrella for when it rains. • A reusable water bottle. • A lunch box with cutlery for when he does have food to spare. • A lock and its key, nice to have with him. In his suitcase that’s locked up at his shabby residence:• A laptop with accessories (charger, mouse, wires, etc.) because sometimes a tablet just isn’t powerful enough. • A facecloth, hand towel, and bath towel. • Other basic toiletries, eg., an electric razor, toothbrush, nail clippers, tweezers, etc. • Another two sets of plain clothes that he manages to pay for with his stipend. • First aid kit with basic over-the-counter medicines, eg., antibiotic cream, aspirin, ibuprofen, cold/flu medicine. Also has a few multi-vitamins since he expected he'd be eating considerably less healthy outside the house. • Sewing kit because someone has to fix the rips and tears. • Two additional sets of locks, minus the lock that’s keeping the suitcase in place, so totaling four in his possession. • A miniature plushie dressed up as Santa Claus for the shits’n’giggles. The Divine Spirit mostly just sighed when he bought it.Additional Info:Rarely involves himself in the duels thanks to the utility provided by GGG. Coupled with the few duels he won when his abilities were still unknown, he’s able to live fairly comfortably. On occasions he pulls something magical, he's been known to bargain with other students. While rare, there are days where he finds himself with extra uses of GGG left over and during these times he's known to lend a helping hand to those who need it. People aren't really sure if it's him or his Divine Spirit's influence, but those on the receiving end generally don't care. Clark's theme I guess. Energetic; not exactly happy, but certainly upbeat; fast-paced, but still somewhat relaxing thanks to its jazzy feel. Is rather tall, but thin rather than portly. At about 1.85m or 6' and 160lb.
6,478	179	3	463	546	It was business as usual in the History Department building. Almost true to its name, the building that housed the department was one of the oldest on campus. Aislinn could never pinpoint the period the hall was built in despite putting her best thinking cap on. It looked Victorian, but several things, such as the uncharacteristically large windows in the main lecture hall that allowed heavy rays of sunlight to shine into her eyes every morning told her otherwise. The class that Aislinn was in right now was Late World History 3001, taught by the sharp but intimidating Mr. Law and his sword-sized pointing stick. By all rights, he was a fantastic public speaker and academic, but the topic for the past few classes was late 20th century global politics, a subject that was so over taught that she could recite its main points on the edge of a coma bleeding out on a road. So instead of paying attention to the stark Mr. Law, Aislinn began drawing an absurd picture of Teddy Roosevelt dual-wielding machine guns and a magical girl Queen Elizabeth fighting flying toasters on her tablet. The shrill ring of the brass bell in the back of the lecture hall told her the hour and a half long class was finally over. Spinning the capacitive tablet pen in her hand several times, she holstered the electronic writing instrument into the side of her tablet like an old-time cowboy before packing the whole thing into a light messenger bag. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she looked to her left for Juno, who was completely knocked out and drooling all over the pull-out seat table. Aislinn could never understand why she slept so much when dolls didn’t need any sort of sleep whatsoever. Not skipping a beat, she pulled out her pocketwatch, letting the gold chain drop half a meter before cleanly clobbering the sleeping doll with an arcing overhead swing. With a yelp, Juno jerked straight up like a plank, clutching her head with her two hands as Aislinn popped open the face of the watch. “Time to wake up,” she said, pointing with an index finger to the apparently still functioning timepiece. “Lunch time~” Arriving at the cafeteria ten minutes later, the duo found the hall crowded as usual. Such a thing couldn’t be helped, after all, the class she had just left was in the farthest corner of the school campus. Aislinn gave a brief glance at the day’s lunch menu, carefully written in neat writing on a chalkboard above each food line. The school had a difficult and troublesome policy of not allowing seconds at all –no exceptions—but she often didn’t have problems with this. Since she had come to a mutual understanding with the cafeteria staff earlier in the year, all she had to do was nod and smile pleasantly and they would graciously give her a gratuitous single serving. Often times, it was enough to have leftovers, even after the unnecessarily gluttonous Juno went to town on their lunch. She glanced back and forth at the soups and the hot foods, undecided between the menu items of the two lines. Both menus were equally appetizing, but something more substantial was probably better. Finally deciding on the turkey and gravy dish, Aislinn joined the hot food queue.	- Aislinn Winchelsea - Motto: “You say the time is now, but I’ll save my cards. Probably.” Age: 17 Gender: Female ________________________________________ - Aspect of Odin - Form of Aspect: Sentient Form -Juno- Juno stands at 4' 3" at her original height, or "not much shorter than Aislinn," according to herself. Her naming was almost entirely arbitrary. When Aislinn was asked by another student why, she responded "I thought of a name for a bit. I gave up after ten minutes so I used an online name generator and Juno was the best out of 100." Perhaps more unusual is Juno's more mature stage of emotional development, with an emotional capacity similar to that of a young adult. This, perhaps, can be attributed to Aislinn's habit of sticking Juno in front of the television watching weird animated shows, and subsequently impressing off of Aislinn's own personality traits. As a result of this odd form of brainwashing and impression, Aislinn's doll has a bit of a twisted personality, but not in a negative way of any sort. She's a bit more independent than other dolls, and is ever the subject of Aislinn's ire. Xeno: Having drawn upon the briefest sliver of the all-knowing Odin, Juno has the ability to convincingly shape-shift at will into another humanoid being. When disguised, the aspect is almost undistinguishable in physical being from the real thing as long as the appearance of the target is known. Shape shifting is not limited to real persons, and Juno can also take on the appearance of fictional characters, if she is knowledgeable enough of the particular individual she intends to represent. Transformation is brief, only taking a few seconds in which there is a brief glow and a flash of light before she takes on a form. (Think of changing classes in FFXIV…) This ability is not without restrictions, however. While Juno can accurately change her appearance to that of another, she only obtains a purely physical semblance, and her abilities would be limited solely to the physical abilities of the person or being that is being replicated. If the person is not real, for some odd reason, her physical abilities seem to stay the same as if she were in her normal form. This ability does not translate into power nor skill. For example, if she were to transform into a well-built, muscular spellsword that is also a super-hacker, she would be physically strong, but could not cast spells, hack a computer, or be proficient with a sword. Although, in theory her acquired physical trait would lend her an advantage in using a sword she otherwise would not have. Likewise, it is up to the acting ability of Juno to pull off a convincing doppelganger. Aside from this small sidenote, this aspect does not lend Aislinn nor Juno any edge in outright combat. Instead, her ability tends to be used towards the more mundane, such as eavesdropping, trickery, surprise, or if the conditions are right, an actual surprise attack. ________________________________________ Personal Skills: Aislinn considers herself a business person. She is good at negotiation, bargaining and accounting, and often trades or sells things among her peers. She is reasonably successful in these flipping endeavors, although she may occasionally get in over her head when a good deal is at stake. She is also a reasonably experienced handyperson, and in additional making simple things like in woodshop, she can fix broken equipment like heaters, doorknobs and electronics with a good success to failure ratio. Aislinn is also a good student. She’s neither overzealous nor overbearing in terms of school, but she has a good work ethic despite her personality and does not go out of her way to miss classes. Her academic talents tend more to the humanities than the sciences, though, and she's fairly artistically talented. Probably the most important of them all is Aislinn's good street senses. She can easily identify a bad situation or vulnerable place and take advantage of it or flee, and otherwise discern when it's time to leave or react. Personal Belongings: Aislinn’s personal belongings consist of her suitcase and a few electronics. Her more commonly seen belongings are a tablet computer and cell phone, the former of which she uses often for academic work and personal entertainment. Her cell phone is a smart phone, but really only uses it for communication with her friends and Juno, preferring to do anything else on her tablet. She is often seen with a thin leather portfolio under her tablet, which contains a few thin notebooks and compact stationary. She also has a windup wristwatch and a pocketwatch with a chain. Both are antiques, but she only uses the wristwatch as a time-keeping device; the pocketwatch is rather hardy and is often used on other individuals in a trebuchet-like function when she’s pissed or otherwise. Additional Info: Aislinn is generally of the neutral party. She is considered by other classmates to be reliable but not necessarily trustworthy due to the very nature of her aspect. She is a calculating person but is prone to bursts of emotion and can be a very vindictive individual when crossed or wronged.
6,479	179	4	1,881	771	God, Helena hated English Literature. Other subjects like math, science, or hell, even history all had something worth learning. Meanwhile, in English Literature, she was stuck analzying some idiot's poem for symbolism and meaning and whatnot. Or, she would be if it weren't for her laptop. Instead of actually reading the assignment like Professor Waldstein wanted, Helena was busy doing something else she deemed worthwhile, namely writing up more code for a program she was working on. Or she had been, until she'd typed in the last line of code a second ago. After she hit compile, she realized that there would be literally nothing to do for the rest of the duration of the class. And probably even longer. Bloody C++ complied so damned slowly. Sighing, Helena opened up the games library on her laptop, browsing through what she wanted to play. Any RTS was out, given that the amount of clicking required would attract too much attention from the professor. Well, if she wanted to kill time, there was always Civilization...nah, there was barely any time in class left. She probably wouldn't even be able to get a game set up and load in before the bell rang. Honestly, it was too bad that no one from her friend group was in this class with her. Messing with any of them would have been more entertaining than being forced to occupy herself for an hour and a half. Oh, well. At least some of them were in her next class. Plus, lunch was right after this. ~Ringidingring~ And speaking of lunch, there was the bell. With a slight smile at finally getting out of this poetry-induced hell, Helena stuffed her laptop back into her bag and dashed out of class, heading straight to the cafeteria. And when she arrived just outside of it, Helena gave a wry smirk as she saw a certain molesting bluenette just about to enter. "Catherine." She said, walking up to her...friend? Sexual offender? Both? Eh, who knew. "No molestation in public, alright?"	- Helena Ackerman - Motto: Three's a crowd, you know. Age: 17 Gender: Female --- - Aspect of...The Morrigan- Form of Aspect: The Morrigan's Brand Appearance of Aspect: Helena's Conceptual tattoo is located on the back of her left hand and takes the form of three intertwining circles in red. When her Xeno activates, the three circles of the brand split apart and become separate from each other, only to intertwine again once Helena stops using her power. Xeno: Tripartite When activated, Helena's body splits into three identical copies of each other, channeling the Morrigan's aspect of being a triple deity. Each body is linked with Helena's mind, allowing them all to share the same thoughts as each other. Each body is just as strong and quick as Helena would be if she didn't separate. However, when one body takes damage, the other two do as well, and Helena suffers the accumulated damage from each body when they recombine, effectively tripling the amount of pain and damage she takes when she uses her Xeno. She can combine and split her bodies at will as long as they are touching each other. --- Personal Skills: - Muay Thai - Programming/coding - Italian cooking - Korean-level RTS skills Personal Belongings: - Laptop computer - Leather laptop bag - Basic school supplies - Smartphone Additional Info: - Shamelessly uses her Xeno to multitask all the time. - Theme song: X2nUvtnNq1A
6,480	179	5	763	2,553	Classes were, essentially, boring. Sometimes, Katsuo had to ask himself why he even put up with classes the first place. After all, he doubted that science would help him with his full-time job as an idol manager, unless it was related to pyrotechnics. And even then, he could just ask another Aspect, maybe one of Goemon or Vulcan to handle all the colorful, flaming explosions for him. If mathematics was related to money management, maybe he’d be more interested, but as of now, there were no accounting courses that he could take. Not that dealing with money was his main interest the first place. Out of all the eight different subjects he was managing this year, there was not a single one that interested him in any fashion at all. Maybe he was being too narrowminded, but really, all he wanted to do was to make Ashita the undisputed star of Risen Academy. And, of course, the Sentinel would serve as a ‘proxy’ for himself in classrooms, sitting in his desk and taking down his notes while he lazed about on the school roof. It was a pretty useful thing really. He was surprised that Helena didn’t do that herself, considering that she could become triplets at a moment’s notice. Sure, she’d be exhausted at the end of it, but she’d have so much more free time to do whatever she wanted! Enjoying the tropical sky and the warm temperatures, he laid on his back with a big smile on his face. From nine in the morning till three in the afternoon, safety was all but guaranteed, with a free meal inbetween. Anyways, it was much harder to get any planning done after school ends and explosions begin to sound in the horizon. After that nasty scuffle from yesterday, the redhead was almost certain that the Xerxes and Vlad cabals would be at each other’s throats again. A shame as well. Chances were that there would be more than just a few spectators this time as well, considering how the Aspect of Galahad had to come stop the fight last time. Well, hopefully, that large-scale event would be enough to capture the attention of most of the drones flying about the island. The tomato-boy wanted to start a little project of his, after all. The lunch bell decided to ring then, and, standing up, Katsuo ran down the stairwell to pick up Ashita. Passing by a few acquaintances and co-workers along the way, he waved and exchanged a few words of greeting, before dashing off once more. He burst into the classroom with the dynamic force of a bicycle, smiled at a teacher whose name he never remembered, before patting his doll’s head at another job well done. Pages filled with elegant handwriting detailed exactly what the lecture had been about, and, after stuffing them unceremoniously into his backpack, he marched off with the Maiden’s Knight in toll. The two of them eventually arrived at the cafeteria, where Katsuo instantly found a legitimate method to cut into the line. Dragging the raven-haired little girl with him, he waved at Ashita’s acrobatics teacher. “Thanks for saving a spot in the line for me, Keepa! How’s it going?”	Name: Kasane Katsuo Motto: “You gotta ask yourself! Why fight to survive, when you can just help me and party?" Age: 15 Gender: Male --- Aspect of Sir Gawain, Knight of Swag and Sun Form of Aspect: Sentient Form, the Maiden’s Knight The Maiden’s Knight is a feminine doll who goes by the name of Ashita, because Katsuo told her he’d name her tomorrow, and she took that literally. Standing at the height of 4’5, a mere midget compared to himself, she has a warm, healthy complexion and cerulean eyes, as well as wavy black hair with just a tinge of blue within them. Often seen with an expressionless face, she has the emotional capacity of a rock, and, if Ashita was asked to do anything she wanted, she’d do nothing. Because there’s nothing she wants to do. Xeno: Despite being essentially a model of a human child, however, she possesses a Xeno that ties very well with Gawain’s past as a young knight who cruised on a white horse, capturing the hearts of a truckload of princesses. Once commanded by Katsuo, Ashita will literally become ten times cuter than she already is, with the capacity to charm just about any female with a ‘normal’ definition of what’s cute and what’s not. Combine that with the fact that she’s getting singing lessons from a certain Valkyrie and dancing lessons from a certain Snake, and Katsuo pretty much has the number one Idol of Risen Academy in his hands. At least for the female market. The male market is a whole different dimension of weird fetishes. --- Personal Skills: Eating Tons of Food…WITHOUT GAINING WEIGHT Setting up Parties and Events Remembering and Recreating Songs Punching Scrubs Out Being Optimistic Personal Belongings: His backpack. A sturdy thing that can carry five textbooks without breaking, it was advertised as something that’s meant for mountain climbing. An aluminum water bottle. Carries one liter of water and has the letters TYSO on it. A laptop. Filled with music samples and stuff like that. He was in a rush to get as many songs as he could onto the harddrive before getting sent off to Risen Academy. A lunchbox. Pretty much serves as his method of saving food for tomorrow. Tons of notebooks, filled with tons of writings. Because as an event coordinator, he has lots of notes to take on the go. His faith in humanity. Additional Info: Kasane Katsuo likes eating spaghetti, but the only dish he knows how to make is the Katsuo Katsudon, which is a masterpiece by itself. Despite looking like a weakling and a scrub, he’s surprisingly good at convincing girls to stop strangling Ashita with their hug-tackles. He makes Ashita get eight hours of sleep every day, even when she doesn’t need sleep. Why? Because she needs to grow taller. Even though she doesn’t grow as well. Katsuo holds parties every two weeks for those that help him set up concerts. Then he has an after party with his friends. Sharing money and buying things in bulk is so useful~!
6,481	179	6	1,143	434	Oh my god this suuuuucks. Aalis mumbled to herself, slumping over now that Mr. Q had stopped talking to her. She glanced over at Catheryn whom of course had fallen asleep in her chair on top of her homework. Aalis kinda wished she could fall asleep that easily but she was always restless as an Aspect of War, if she was not fighting or training she was bored out of her mind, video games seemed to be the only other thing that kept her from going nuts at times like these. Pushing her glasses up onto her forehead she started doodling on her page, decorating the corners with random designs and patterns to pass the time until lunch. Catheryn kept moving around and muttering as she drifted in and out of sleep and Aalis looked over at her, pocking the girls side just as the lunch bell rang and she jumped up out of her chair and ran for the door, making Aalis nearly topple out of her chair as the smaller girl waved to her from over by the door and ran for the cafeteria. "How do we even know each other?" Aalis thought to herself before pushing her glasses down over her eyes and picking up her bag, heading out to try and get her lunch before the lines got crazy. ----- The cafeteria was of course packed by the time Aalis got there and she looked around for Catheryn to maybe get a chance to cut in line hopefully but she could not see the blue haired girl anywhere. Sighing she just got in line for the soup and sub sandwiches, not wanting to wait an hour for a slice of pizza. At least she could find a table to sit at with her friend and eat, then maybe find someone to fight. Aalis had been itching for one since she woke up. Chowdah and lettuce on bread. was the lunch of the day for her and Aalis looked for an empty table, walking over to one over by the wall she finally spotted Catheryn and also saw Helena beside her, "Hey guys over here!" Aalis yelled, putting her tray down and waving to get their attention. there was no ways she was sitting alone and getting bored like she was in class.	---- - Aalis Dragic - Motto: "You tell'em Hell is coming." Age: 16 Gender: Female ----- - The Second Horseman, War - Form of Aspect: War's Blade Standoff Appearance of Aspect: Standoff takes the form of a 5 foot pole tipped with a 4 foot blade, it is a massive 2 handed weapon made for stabbing or slicing in wide arcs. However Aalis wields the weapon in one hand and carries a massive tower shield in the other. When she summons the weapon to her person she becomes a Crusader of War, a massive imposing armored figure. Xeno: - Phalanx Fighter - Though a Polearm is a two handed weapon the Aspect wielder is is able to hold the weapon in one hand but with limited efficiency, the benefit of this however is that when they wielder does this they are gifted with a tower shield than can block and shrug off most physical attacks. - Mirror - The ability that "Standoff" is named after. The Aspect wielder has the ability to copy the speed and movements of their opponent to bring them to a stalemate, it is only through superior tactics than one can best the other at this point. ---- Personal Skills: - Gymnastics - Guitarist - Video games - Being self righteous and egotistic Personal Belongings: - Collection of Aviator Sunglasses -.One red Backpack - Plain unstamped tags on a strip of leather worn around the neck - A picture of her Dads Additional Info: Aalis is as cocky and self loving as it gets, she will never back down from a fight and takes on all challengers. She never sees defeat as a loss, she instead learns from her mistakes and applies them to future battles with the ultimate goal of becoming the best fighter in the school. She is adopted but still loves her parents as if she was of the same blood as them. "There is no such thing as retreat, only tactically walking backwards." ----
6,482	179	7	130	491	Exiting the classroom shortly after the aspect of war, Catheryn began making her own way to the cafeteria. Few faces turned to acknowledge her, though the ones whom did were responded with a dramatic wink, the unconventional tattoo on her cheek making it all the more funny to these people. Fortunately, another friend appeared as she neared the doors of the cafeteria. "Helena! No.. no.. I restrain my primal urges while in the confines of this institution. Unless, you want to try something freaky~ But if that's the case, we'll need to go somewhere a little more 'quiet'." She slyly grinned to the blonde, making the seriousness of the comment that much weirder.. Laughing her own words off, Catheryn peered towards the continuously flowing river of people entering the cafeteria. She hadn't seen Aalis since she took off from the classroom, and the rest of the group were most likely inside. Processing the whole situation in her head, Catheryn reached to grab Helena by the wrist. Rushing into the cafeteria, with friend in hand, she charged straight towards the longest line available, Aalis announced her location mid-route and in response Catheryn screamed back at the girl "Food!" as she approached her target. Getting 'in-line' however was not something little Catheryn did. Cutting the vast majority of fellow students in the pizza line, with Helena alongside her as an accomplice she would release her soft grip of Helena's wrist as their destination was met. "No sight of our comrades, and so many enemies behind us.. We should embrace for comfort." Catheryn pressed her body closer to Helena's as she said this. Further scanning of the area revealed her group of friends in the Soup & Sandwich line. Catheryn's face focused on the bunch in her least favorite line, staring intently with an unamused face. Though as quickly as the face changed, it returned to normal, turning to Helena and then back to the group. "We made it!" She declared, gesturing to herself and blonde beside her. These words would be aimed towards Katsuo, Ashita, Keepa, and Clark at the opposing line from theirs. "Aalis already claimed a table!" Catheryn added before looking back towards the doors of the cafeteria, not quite remembering where this table was.	- Catheryn - "An axe drenched in blood easily finds its mark." Age: Sixteen years old. Gender: Female ♀ --- - Aspect of... Brynhildr! - Form of Aspect: The Battle-Axe Hindarfjall Appearance of Aspect: Hindarfjall spans at 5' in length from its head to the end of its haft. Decorated and crafted with different shades of black and grey, the weapon's dark-hued iron shimmers in sunlight to express the owner's dedication to keep it in prime condition. At it's blades, the only hints of color are the emerald green detail that marks where the handle of the blade conjoins the axe, while along the edge appears to be runes written in gold. Named after the mountain where Brynhildr once lived, it represents the strength to endeavor through challenges and hardship, and the patience and trust towards her allies to help her through them. Xeno: Darra Tharlioth is the gift bestowed on Catheryn from Bryhildr, granting her the ability to perform war songs like the valkyries of old. While these simple tunes may not be your fancy on the battlefield, they are both uplifting and rejuvenative for herself and those around her. Grani is the horse that helped save Brynhildr from her resting place, and is the gift shared between Catheryn and her Weapon. While not taking the form of a horse, the horse in which Odin claimed to be 'the best of all horses' lives on resting in Essence within the wielded axe. When called upon by Catheryn, the horse's spirit awakens from within the weapon and grants the armed warrior an immense increase in speed and stamina. --- Personal Skills: Axemanship Bartering/Persuasion Perversion Cooking Meat Some Martial Arts Generic Survivalist Stuff Personal Belongings: Mom's Lockbox: A small brass container, locked and without a key. Finding it wrong to pry or break the keepsake from her mother open, Catheryn simply holds it as a reminder to let go of her former life and focus on her new one. Several peers of her have tried to steal this item to discover it's contents, though many of them find a grisly ending.. totally not death. Additional Info: ~
6,483	179	8	986	1,744	Inevitably, due to a lack of general interest, the lunch person responsible for the S&S line was often late. This didn't reflect on the line too heavily, although Keepa almost jumped when Clark greeted them. "Well, good afternoon, Saint Clark~" they chirped in an otherwise formal tone besides the tease; perhaps due to Clark's aspect of Old Saint Nicholas which was odd to Keepa, Clark being pretty much the only person with such an aspect, did the snake take such interest in coming up with witty names for him. It was never in ill manner or with the intention of being hurtful, just...well...there weren't many people who could say they knew what went on behind those bright violet eyes which narrowed as Katsuo cut in front of them. "Oh~?" Keepa began, casually sliding closer as the expression that had been annoyance was expertly masked with a sultry smirk as they continued, "I do not remember saving you a spot~." Playing dumb at first, holding their left elbow in their right hand as they thoughtfully tapped their chin with the inky black scales of their left index finger, slowly rolling their eyes over to Katsuo as their expression subtly grew. "Alzough...if you vahnted to have lunch vith me..." they went on, their tone growing softer as they gently shifted their hand from their chin to less than an inch from Katsuo's cheek, making a caressing motion as they concluded, "you only needed to ask~." The resonant chill from the resting aspect seeped into Katsuo's skin as Keepa punctuated the action with a well-timed wink. ~~~~~ With that, I slipped ahead of him, bending slightly to offer a hand for Ashita to shake while I grabbed a tray and pointed out what I wanted, the lunch person well familiar with me as a returning customer. "And how is zeh young Madam doing, today?" I ask, curious if Katsuo had taught her to shake and be civil, yet, rather than forcing the poor doll to do his homework while he skipped class. Of course, I didn't have the time to get an answer...as Lady Catheryn was soon on the scene. I mean, sure, I enjoyed pizza sometimes, but...hrm. I suppose I shouldn't assume to understand her if I didn't. Heh. Rather than be annoyed, it was easier to play along with what I thought was a joke of some sort. I throw an exaggerated thumbs up in the air in her direction, the plating of my fingers starting to reform in the same action, adding a glint from the neon light as I called back, "Yes!" With this, I snatch up my tray, making my tray to the nearest mostly empty table in the direction Lady Catheryn had gestured. Sitting down, I folded one leg over the other, shifting my attire to the side up to my thighs with the swift movement; glancing to the other patrons while viciously biting half of the wrapping on the sandwich off in a single motion, chewing it twice and spitting it into a nearby trashcan in their direction. They didn't look like the fighting type and it showed from how those that didn't move to the next table over slid as far away as they could, whispering amongst themselves.	Keepa stands at 5'7. Under the attire, Wynne wears lightly armored combat webbing to hide their otherwise exposed middrift between their short sleeveless shirt and black pleated skirt. Also wears mid-thigh socks and snug-fitting knee-high boots which have a slight heel on them (for that extra inch). General attire changes occasionally and will be explained as it does. ~ Keepakura Wynne Lumiere ~ Motto: "You first need to reach the head of the snake before you can cut it off" Age 16 Gender: ---- ~ Aspect of...Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye ~ Form of Aspect The Blessing of Ouroboros Appearance of Aspect The aspect takes the form of Keepa's left arm which is fixed to a prosthetic mount replacing their shoulder after a duel that went south. Previously, the Aspect was a gauntlet, but without a tie to the wielder upon which to affix itself (namely a hand with a pulse) it became their new arm. The arm has doll-like joints and hinges capable of reaching beyond normal human anatomy. It possesses a porcelain smoothness and shine with the only detraction being a dark mass which can sometimes be seen through the material to be swirling; writhing, like a snake coiling and shifting in a tight container, this appearance shifts with mood and occurs everywhere from the shoulder mount to the tips of the fingers. The fingers have slight claw-like points to them, not enough to be dangerous...unless gripping something with enough deliberate force. Xeno The dark mass within the arm can reveal itself to be the blessing, forcing the plating apart as it uncoils and stretching a distance of around 10-15ft to use its mass and the clinging plates of the arm's frame as an animated whip of sorts. The internal mass is ink black with the apparent texture of scales while the pinky of the finger shifts next to the thumb to form a serpent's head; the fingers parting between the three remaining knuckles to give the appearance of slit eyes which match similar slits on either side of the hand. True to the aspect of a serpent, the spiked fingertips course and drip with a murky violet liquid which evaporates after short exposure to air. A "bite" from the newly formed head can be quite painful from the vicious force of the spiked finger-fangs which dig deep and are loath to let go after finding its mark. The Plates of the arm are capable of sustaining severe punishment, though the serpent-like mass they're bound to slices like normal flesh although with a bit less give. Severed chunks rapidly petrify and deteriorates to ash, plates and all. However, the stub of the arm rapidly gains characteristics of the previous hand, although thinner or shorter. To balance this injury process, the violet liquid which drips from the serpent's fangs breaks down inanimate matter for consumption by the arm, restoring its mass proportionately but with a distinct taste for metal. Consumption through these means can cause the arm to grow up to twice its 'normal' size. Leftover mass from over-consumption can easily be 'shed' restoring the arm to its original shape, although the doll-like armor plates slowly grow back over the course of the hour as the serpent properly digests and sheds. Alternatively, in the first few seconds of consuming material, especially metal, said material can be expelled as a projectile. While this violet 'venom' has no effect on humans, likely due to oxygen content in blood quickly counteracting its effects as it dissipates, residual venom can leave unseemly pock-marks on armor or surfaces it strikes...assuming there is any left by the time the projectile makes contact. ---- Personal Skills Tailoring Word-craft Martial Arts Contortionism Acrobatics Cooking mostly anything that can go over noodles "microwave eggs in a cup" Reaching things on the top shelf "Disguise" Personal Belongings A black leather messenger bag slung to the right containing... - Assorted school supplies - Silver-adorned pocketwatch with picture of parents, inside - Small camper's pocket knife (Fork, spoon, knife, can opener, scissors) - Pink and lime green plaid diary (in French) Additional Info - French accent - Takes advantage of androgynous appearance both ways. Many from both genders find Keepa's qualities and mannerisms oddly alluring, although Keepa's actual gender remains a mystery. (Subject to additions and/or changes)
6,484	179	9	2,798	1,688	Raising an eyebrow, Clark slowly smiled at Keepa’s greeting. His name rarely stayed the same for more than one meeting between the two of them, but he was sure they’d get recycled at some point. He didn’t particularly mind Keepa’s attempts at renaming him, accepting it was all in good fun. “While I’m sure some people would take great offense at your granting of me sainthood, I shall nevertheless accept,” he said, taking the fact that the server had yet to man their station to bow his head to Keepa. He might have greeted Katsuo when he raised his head, but it seemed like Keepa was dealing with the young male at the moment. Shrugging as Keepa proceeded to be Keepa, he grabbed a tray off the nearby stack and waved in greeting towards Ashita, though he didn’t expect much response. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had though because Clark was already looking away, having caught a glimpse of someone he thought was Aalis. Indeed he had, and he took note of the table the raven-haired girl sat at before turning and advancing his place in line. Now that the server was actually here it didn’t take long for Clark to get his lunch given the lack of students ahead of him. Granted there was one, or maybe two if Ashita counted, that should have been behind him, but Clark didn’t make a fuss of things. Thanking the lady over the counter as he loaded his tray with the food and some cutlery, he turned just in time to see and Catheryn gesture at herself and Helena. Given that Keepa had already replied across the cafeteria for “their” line, Clark instead just nodded solemnly before heading off to the aforementioned table. Wandering over to the table that Aalis had claimed, Clark set his tray down on the other side of the table but off to the side so he wasn’t directly across from her. “Hey Aalis,” he said in greeting as he took a seat and propped an elbow on the table, waiting for the others to arrive before he began to eat. He couldn’t say he really knew the other girl all that well. They’d probably have never met if it weren’t for the fact that they hung out with some of the same people. Speaking of the same people… Clark sighed a bit as he awaited the inevitable “nagging” that’d arrive with Catheryn. Maybe she wouldn't ask today or maybe with others around she'd wait for later, but from how shameless she could be at other times, Clark wasn't holding out too much hope for either. While he probably could have saved a bit of time by just pulling the BBG out, that probably would have looked a bit too resigned on his part. Turning to Keepa just as she finished “intimidating” a couple of students at another table, Clark raised a hand and gave the younger students a smile as a pacifying gesture. “I’m sure they were wonderfully intimidated by your ability to savage a sandwich wrapper,” he remarked dryly, "but was that really necessary?"	Hawawa. - Name - Clark Walter Motto: “There’s generally something new to find if you’ll just reach forward.” Age: 18 Gender: Male --- - Aspect of... Santa Claus!- Form of Aspect: The Bottomless Bag of Gifts (BBG, Not actual name) Appearance of Aspect:A large red fleece bag with a white trim at the top and two white pom-poms at the end of a red drawstring. The bag is quite large, about 6’ in length and 3’ across, and it always looks full. Opening it reveals a bag full of presents to outside observers, despite it being empty in reality. While Clark manages to carry it around with seemingly no trouble, anyone will find themselves to unable to move the bag or access its contents. It has little value as a weapon, as despite being “full” it hits with as much weight as an empty fleece bag. It is just as durable as other Weapons though, and can be used effectively for defense given it’s large area and light weight. Xeno: Gratuitous Gift Giving (GGG) is the ability shared between Clark and his “weapon”. As its name implies, the ability allows for Clark to reach into the BBG and pull out a random gift of some beneficial value. He’s generally unable to influence the type of “gift” he pulls free, save for special circumstances like being in combat. While the limits of this ability have yet to be explored, Clark seems to have discovered some guidelines for how it functions.All items, be they magical or mundane, drawn out are consumables, a one-time use. Food and medicine seem to be the most common objects pulled out.The BBG has a daily usage of between 5-10 times. Upon reaching the limit, any further attempts for items will result in coal. Any items drawn out will expire and vanish at the end of 24 hours, meaning stockpiling is sadly not possible.While weapons are possible, they do not seem to appear unless within a combat situation. Those that are drawn are always non-lethal in nature. Generally grenades of some type. Magical results have varied from an ethereal bow that shot a single arrow that rooted his enemy with spectral chains, to a crystal hammer that shattered on impact but released a powerful shockwave.Odds seem to be something along the lines of a 50/50 chance for food or medicine, with an unnoticeable chance for other items. In combat the odds change to 25/25/50 for food, medicine, and weapons. Magical items seem to appear with a 10% chance at all times.I Go Anywhere (IGA) is the ability given to Clark as the Aspect of Santa Claus. It allows for him to unlock or, in the case of magic, dispel any non-offensive security measures in place at any residence. Residence being defined as any place or object designed/intended to house people (RV, trailers, mental hospitals, hotels, etc.). While he still has to deal with offensive security measures on his own, even the most advanced locks will simply fall open for him. Creations by other Aspects will give him more trouble, but ultimately fall as well unless they have some sort of conceptual backing that clashes with IGA. --- Personal Skills: A fairly good cook. Not everything he pulls out is ready to eat. Means he's fairly good at setting up a makeshift kitchen.Brawling. He might not look it, but Clark can throw down fairly well. While his Xeno can help him in combat, it's not something he can solely rely on. To that end, he's a decent unarmed combatant, even if it may not be all that effective against other Aspects.A fairly good swimmer, even if not in the competitive sense. While he doesn't train for it, the fact that he's on an island means he doesn't have to go far to go for a swim.An academic. One of the students that attends the academy daily, he's fairly smart and generally one of the top in his classes. Good with extremes in temperatures. He doesn't particularly mind the weather being at either extreme, though he does prefer the cold over heat. He regularly goes for swims in the ocean, even when the temperatures drop to near or below freezing.Somewhat of a good burglar, even if he isn't really proud of it. He can pick more mundane locks without the assistance of his Xeno, thanks to the fact that's he's observed plenty of locks being opened by it. Personal Belongings:Brought a fair bit of stuff to the Academy with him under the assumption he’d be there for a few years. Quickly realized it was good idea, since things were literally good for a day. Still pretty annoyed they took all his clothes though, so now he’s stuck shelling out a chunk of his stipend for god damn clothes.On his person at basically all times:• His cellphone with a wallet case. Holds stuff like IDs, and other important stuff. (Lock picking tools included.) • A pair of earbuds. • Gerber Multi-tool because there’s something in there that you’re going to eventually need. • A very nice Casio watch. Quite useful for other things aside from keeping time. • A plain grey baseball cap. • An old and well-used, but still functioning Zippo. There seems to have been an engraving, but it's too worn away to read anymore. • A pen-pencil, both pen and pencil in one convenient piece. Along with that he carries a small notepad for easier and quicker notes than resorting to his phone.A sizable Swiss Gear backpack. Keeps the following things inside:• A tablet, for use at school and recreation. • Stationery for school. A few lead pencils, a few pens, a ruler, a pair of scissors, etc. Also has a few hundred unused pages of paper through notebooks. • An umbrella for when it rains. • A reusable water bottle. • A lunch box with cutlery for when he does have food to spare. • A lock and its key, nice to have with him. In his suitcase that’s locked up at his shabby residence:• A laptop with accessories (charger, mouse, wires, etc.) because sometimes a tablet just isn’t powerful enough. • A facecloth, hand towel, and bath towel. • Other basic toiletries, eg., an electric razor, toothbrush, nail clippers, tweezers, etc. • Another two sets of plain clothes that he manages to pay for with his stipend. • First aid kit with basic over-the-counter medicines, eg., antibiotic cream, aspirin, ibuprofen, cold/flu medicine. Also has a few multi-vitamins since he expected he'd be eating considerably less healthy outside the house. • Sewing kit because someone has to fix the rips and tears. • Two additional sets of locks, minus the lock that’s keeping the suitcase in place, so totaling four in his possession. • A miniature plushie dressed up as Santa Claus for the shits’n’giggles. The Divine Spirit mostly just sighed when he bought it.Additional Info:Rarely involves himself in the duels thanks to the utility provided by GGG. Coupled with the few duels he won when his abilities were still unknown, he’s able to live fairly comfortably. On occasions he pulls something magical, he's been known to bargain with other students. While rare, there are days where he finds himself with extra uses of GGG left over and during these times he's known to lend a helping hand to those who need it. People aren't really sure if it's him or his Divine Spirit's influence, but those on the receiving end generally don't care. Clark's theme I guess. Energetic; not exactly happy, but certainly upbeat; fast-paced, but still somewhat relaxing thanks to its jazzy feel. Is rather tall, but thin rather than portly. At about 1.85m or 6' and 160lb.
6,485	179	10	463	546	Aislinn smiled at the nice lunch lady behind the counter, giving her signature waist height, single-motion hand wave as she pushed her tray forward with her other hand to be served. It seemed, for reasons unexplained, the hot food line was the shortest and moved the fastest of all the food lines in the cafeteria. Even with lining up like a proper law-abiding student, unlike other certain students, Aislinn and Juno were in and out of the line with a healthy serving of turkey in less than ten minutes. She couldn’t fathom why people would want nasty pre-cooked pizza over some nice, fresh steaming turkey, but that wasn’t her business. As Juno grabbed a couple cans of tea down the line, Aislinn attempted to stabilize the plastic tray, which was bending slightly under the load of plates, utensils, and turkey. Not moments after Aislinn stepped towards the tables of the cafeteria did Juno spot a certain doll and her master across the cafeteria. Aislinn reached out to restrain her doll by the back of her collar, but she had already zipped away towards Ashita, tossing the two drink cans in the general direction of the sagging food tray. Diving forward with the tray, the brown-haired girl accomplished a feat of acrobatics as she caught the two cans of green tea, one on top of the other with her spare hand. She spun ninety degrees on her foot to regain her footing from the lunge, balancing the two cans precariously. Having narrowly avoided disaster, she breathed out through her mouth in relief, and scanned for a table with some familiar faces. Placing the drinks onto the overladen tray, Aislinn brightened in recognition and headed towards a half-full table, giving up on chasing her eccentric minion. Unrestrained, Juno continued barreling down the cafeteria aisle, arms outstretched. “Ashiiiiita~!” The pink hatted girl smacked into the other doll with an embrace that could suffocate a normal girl of her size. Ignoring the actions of Juno, who was now halfway across the dining hall, Aislinn took the seat second from the corner at the table with Keepa and company, setting her tray down. “Hey Keepa, Clark. Would you mind if I sit here?” The question, naturally, was only a formality; she had already sat down of course, and she knew them well enough. Aislinn moved the drinks off the tray. “Chowder again?”	- Aislinn Winchelsea - Motto: “You say the time is now, but I’ll save my cards. Probably.” Age: 17 Gender: Female ________________________________________ - Aspect of Odin - Form of Aspect: Sentient Form -Juno- Juno stands at 4' 3" at her original height, or "not much shorter than Aislinn," according to herself. Her naming was almost entirely arbitrary. When Aislinn was asked by another student why, she responded "I thought of a name for a bit. I gave up after ten minutes so I used an online name generator and Juno was the best out of 100." Perhaps more unusual is Juno's more mature stage of emotional development, with an emotional capacity similar to that of a young adult. This, perhaps, can be attributed to Aislinn's habit of sticking Juno in front of the television watching weird animated shows, and subsequently impressing off of Aislinn's own personality traits. As a result of this odd form of brainwashing and impression, Aislinn's doll has a bit of a twisted personality, but not in a negative way of any sort. She's a bit more independent than other dolls, and is ever the subject of Aislinn's ire. Xeno: Having drawn upon the briefest sliver of the all-knowing Odin, Juno has the ability to convincingly shape-shift at will into another humanoid being. When disguised, the aspect is almost undistinguishable in physical being from the real thing as long as the appearance of the target is known. Shape shifting is not limited to real persons, and Juno can also take on the appearance of fictional characters, if she is knowledgeable enough of the particular individual she intends to represent. Transformation is brief, only taking a few seconds in which there is a brief glow and a flash of light before she takes on a form. (Think of changing classes in FFXIV…) This ability is not without restrictions, however. While Juno can accurately change her appearance to that of another, she only obtains a purely physical semblance, and her abilities would be limited solely to the physical abilities of the person or being that is being replicated. If the person is not real, for some odd reason, her physical abilities seem to stay the same as if she were in her normal form. This ability does not translate into power nor skill. For example, if she were to transform into a well-built, muscular spellsword that is also a super-hacker, she would be physically strong, but could not cast spells, hack a computer, or be proficient with a sword. Although, in theory her acquired physical trait would lend her an advantage in using a sword she otherwise would not have. Likewise, it is up to the acting ability of Juno to pull off a convincing doppelganger. Aside from this small sidenote, this aspect does not lend Aislinn nor Juno any edge in outright combat. Instead, her ability tends to be used towards the more mundane, such as eavesdropping, trickery, surprise, or if the conditions are right, an actual surprise attack. ________________________________________ Personal Skills: Aislinn considers herself a business person. She is good at negotiation, bargaining and accounting, and often trades or sells things among her peers. She is reasonably successful in these flipping endeavors, although she may occasionally get in over her head when a good deal is at stake. She is also a reasonably experienced handyperson, and in additional making simple things like in woodshop, she can fix broken equipment like heaters, doorknobs and electronics with a good success to failure ratio. Aislinn is also a good student. She’s neither overzealous nor overbearing in terms of school, but she has a good work ethic despite her personality and does not go out of her way to miss classes. Her academic talents tend more to the humanities than the sciences, though, and she's fairly artistically talented. Probably the most important of them all is Aislinn's good street senses. She can easily identify a bad situation or vulnerable place and take advantage of it or flee, and otherwise discern when it's time to leave or react. Personal Belongings: Aislinn’s personal belongings consist of her suitcase and a few electronics. Her more commonly seen belongings are a tablet computer and cell phone, the former of which she uses often for academic work and personal entertainment. Her cell phone is a smart phone, but really only uses it for communication with her friends and Juno, preferring to do anything else on her tablet. She is often seen with a thin leather portfolio under her tablet, which contains a few thin notebooks and compact stationary. She also has a windup wristwatch and a pocketwatch with a chain. Both are antiques, but she only uses the wristwatch as a time-keeping device; the pocketwatch is rather hardy and is often used on other individuals in a trebuchet-like function when she’s pissed or otherwise. Additional Info: Aislinn is generally of the neutral party. She is considered by other classmates to be reliable but not necessarily trustworthy due to the very nature of her aspect. She is a calculating person but is prone to bursts of emotion and can be a very vindictive individual when crossed or wronged.
6,486	179	11	763	2,553	Yeah, he really COULDN’T get used to Keepa’s weird-ass eldritch abomination arm. While he was already accustom to all the flirtatious or creepy or perverted motions that a certain Valkyrie was accustom to doing, Katsuo wasn’t able to brush aside the words of an ambiguously-gendered person quite as easily. After all, it’d get a whole lot more awkward if the brunette turned out to be a guy. Or a tranny. It was a question that could probably be solved with a grab at the crotch, but while the tomato-headed boy was brave and impulsive, he wasn’t willing to risk his own crotch. Not against a person with a tentacle arm. Deciding that cutting behind Keepa was equally good, the teen motioned for Ashita to say something in response to the snake-thing’s question, only to have the Sentient tilt her head slightly to the side and then shrug. It must be a first world problem, when you stress over your Sentient not having enough of a personality. It would be nice if Ashita was just a reserved Yamato Nadeshiko, but the Aspect of Gawain wasn’t even that. Katsuo reminded himself that he should ask Aislinn how Juno had developed such a personality, before picking up a double soup-and-sandwich combo. Unfortunately, ethnical foods such as Asian cuisine wasn’t present in the cafeteria. Then, as the two of them started for the table that snake-lady had claimed as her own territory, Juno decided to show of her top-tier acrobatics skills, leaping through the air and pretty much bowling the raven-haired girl over. The two Sentients slid in a tangled mess of hot, girl-on-girl action, as Katsuo decided that he’d rather not interfere with the hyper-positive Juno, before walking over to the table. Placing down his two trays, the red-head found a spot for himself (the table was getting a bit squished though) and remarked, “Really got to reveal the secret of Juno’s personality to me sometime, Aislinn. What did you even do to make a Sentient so active and cheerful?” After a bit of rolling on the ground, Ashita came to the conclusion that she should probably be by her Master’s side. Standing up with no regards to the purple-haired witch clinging to her, the girl marched resolutely towards the table, no sign of exertion at all on her face.	Name: Kasane Katsuo Motto: “You gotta ask yourself! Why fight to survive, when you can just help me and party?" Age: 15 Gender: Male --- Aspect of Sir Gawain, Knight of Swag and Sun Form of Aspect: Sentient Form, the Maiden’s Knight The Maiden’s Knight is a feminine doll who goes by the name of Ashita, because Katsuo told her he’d name her tomorrow, and she took that literally. Standing at the height of 4’5, a mere midget compared to himself, she has a warm, healthy complexion and cerulean eyes, as well as wavy black hair with just a tinge of blue within them. Often seen with an expressionless face, she has the emotional capacity of a rock, and, if Ashita was asked to do anything she wanted, she’d do nothing. Because there’s nothing she wants to do. Xeno: Despite being essentially a model of a human child, however, she possesses a Xeno that ties very well with Gawain’s past as a young knight who cruised on a white horse, capturing the hearts of a truckload of princesses. Once commanded by Katsuo, Ashita will literally become ten times cuter than she already is, with the capacity to charm just about any female with a ‘normal’ definition of what’s cute and what’s not. Combine that with the fact that she’s getting singing lessons from a certain Valkyrie and dancing lessons from a certain Snake, and Katsuo pretty much has the number one Idol of Risen Academy in his hands. At least for the female market. The male market is a whole different dimension of weird fetishes. --- Personal Skills: Eating Tons of Food…WITHOUT GAINING WEIGHT Setting up Parties and Events Remembering and Recreating Songs Punching Scrubs Out Being Optimistic Personal Belongings: His backpack. A sturdy thing that can carry five textbooks without breaking, it was advertised as something that’s meant for mountain climbing. An aluminum water bottle. Carries one liter of water and has the letters TYSO on it. A laptop. Filled with music samples and stuff like that. He was in a rush to get as many songs as he could onto the harddrive before getting sent off to Risen Academy. A lunchbox. Pretty much serves as his method of saving food for tomorrow. Tons of notebooks, filled with tons of writings. Because as an event coordinator, he has lots of notes to take on the go. His faith in humanity. Additional Info: Kasane Katsuo likes eating spaghetti, but the only dish he knows how to make is the Katsuo Katsudon, which is a masterpiece by itself. Despite looking like a weakling and a scrub, he’s surprisingly good at convincing girls to stop strangling Ashita with their hug-tackles. He makes Ashita get eight hours of sleep every day, even when she doesn’t need sleep. Why? Because she needs to grow taller. Even though she doesn’t grow as well. Katsuo holds parties every two weeks for those that help him set up concerts. Then he has an after party with his friends. Sharing money and buying things in bulk is so useful~!
6,487	179	12	1,881	771	Giving a startled yelp as Catherine literally dragged her to cut in the pizza line, Helena gave her friend an irritated frown as she released the blond. "Every time..." Helena muttered under her breath in exasperation. "Every damn time this happens, she drags me in for pizza. It's not even good pizza..." She grumbled, stewing over the fact that she could make a better pizza than this fast food shit given that she had the ingredients. "No sight of our comrades, and so many enemies behind us.. We should embrace for comfort." Catherine said as she snuggled up against Helena, to which Helena could only respond with a shake of her head. "Maybe later. After all, you do need a free hand to grab your pizza, you know." She said, trying whatever tactic she could to get the girl off of her. Fortunately, it seemed that Catherine's desire for food won out, and Helena was free to walk with her to the table relatively unmolested. Sitting down next to Catherine, Helena took a bite of her pizza as she raised a hand, waving at the rest of the group in greeting before pulling out her laptop to put next to her plate on the table. As the laptop loaded back up, Helena activated her Xeno, diving her body into three copies: one for socializing, one for eating, and one for getting a few quick games of Hearthstone in. They sat next to each other on the bench, with the body designated for socializing closest to the rest of the group. "So..." The first Helena turned to Aalis. "You down to play some games later? Street Fighter, maybe?" She asked casually. Really, Helena thought she should know better than to split while Catherine was around, given that she'd probably get some harassment, but the thought of not efficiently multitasking whenever she could was just unbearable to her.	- Helena Ackerman - Motto: Three's a crowd, you know. Age: 17 Gender: Female --- - Aspect of...The Morrigan- Form of Aspect: The Morrigan's Brand Appearance of Aspect: Helena's Conceptual tattoo is located on the back of her left hand and takes the form of three intertwining circles in red. When her Xeno activates, the three circles of the brand split apart and become separate from each other, only to intertwine again once Helena stops using her power. Xeno: Tripartite When activated, Helena's body splits into three identical copies of each other, channeling the Morrigan's aspect of being a triple deity. Each body is linked with Helena's mind, allowing them all to share the same thoughts as each other. Each body is just as strong and quick as Helena would be if she didn't separate. However, when one body takes damage, the other two do as well, and Helena suffers the accumulated damage from each body when they recombine, effectively tripling the amount of pain and damage she takes when she uses her Xeno. She can combine and split her bodies at will as long as they are touching each other. --- Personal Skills: - Muay Thai - Programming/coding - Italian cooking - Korean-level RTS skills Personal Belongings: - Laptop computer - Leather laptop bag - Basic school supplies - Smartphone Additional Info: - Shamelessly uses her Xeno to multitask all the time. - Theme song: X2nUvtnNq1A
6,488	179	13	130	491	Tray in hand, Catherine marched towards the direction she assumed their table was gestured to be. Seeing the familiar faces atthe nearby table, she darted towards it's location sitting carefully, scanning the many faces around her. As Helena sat next to her and activated her ability, she began to set up her laptop, multitasking at the table as she did best, Catherine leaned towards the opposing end of the table. "So.. Any news? Any updates? All I've got to offer to the table is, that Helena's body still feels great against mine. Santa Clark, can I have my free item today? Keepa, Katsuo, anything in the works for Risen's Next Top Idol? Aislinn, direct your loli towards me, I want attention!" The blue-haired girl's eyes seemed fixated on Clark as she talked, her view simply drifting around the table and then stopping on him, over, and over again. Catherine's head bowing up every single time it did so, as if she were trying to motion the words 'gimme, gimme' with her head. Awaiting any responses that would be directed towards her she picked up the messy pizza with a careful fold, casually dipping it into the ranch dressing next to it on the plate that sat on the white tray. During a meal was one of the times of day that Catherine needed to wind down a bit. If she were flipping shit while eating, it'd ruin her lovely image, or even cause her to make a mess on herself. During this whole ordeal, a few fellow students could be heard screaming at one another within the cafeteria. Loud enough for students in the south-western corner of the cafeteria to come to an abrupt silence, amplifying the strong words of the two male students. "Fuck you! You can't just ask a higher-ranking member to step up and take on your burdens. You're going to make us look like cowards! Do you think any of us wants that? Just because you're too afraid to stand up to someone a little bigger than you?" "Don't you dare get in my face Matthieu! Hypocrites like you don't even belong in our group! No, that's too generous... Meatheads like you shouldn't even be an Aspect in general!" "What the fuck did you just say?" Before the situation could escalate, two tall figures dressed in black-mesh uniform quickly entered the cafeteria through the main entrance, walk-sprinting immediately to the two boys location. Each of the black-garbed men took a position behind one of the students, and routinely zip-tied their hands behind their back. While one escorted the two out of the cafeteria, the other stood in a sentry position at the door, as an insurance that no other disruptions may occur in the area.	- Catheryn - "An axe drenched in blood easily finds its mark." Age: Sixteen years old. Gender: Female ♀ --- - Aspect of... Brynhildr! - Form of Aspect: The Battle-Axe Hindarfjall Appearance of Aspect: Hindarfjall spans at 5' in length from its head to the end of its haft. Decorated and crafted with different shades of black and grey, the weapon's dark-hued iron shimmers in sunlight to express the owner's dedication to keep it in prime condition. At it's blades, the only hints of color are the emerald green detail that marks where the handle of the blade conjoins the axe, while along the edge appears to be runes written in gold. Named after the mountain where Brynhildr once lived, it represents the strength to endeavor through challenges and hardship, and the patience and trust towards her allies to help her through them. Xeno: Darra Tharlioth is the gift bestowed on Catheryn from Bryhildr, granting her the ability to perform war songs like the valkyries of old. While these simple tunes may not be your fancy on the battlefield, they are both uplifting and rejuvenative for herself and those around her. Grani is the horse that helped save Brynhildr from her resting place, and is the gift shared between Catheryn and her Weapon. While not taking the form of a horse, the horse in which Odin claimed to be 'the best of all horses' lives on resting in Essence within the wielded axe. When called upon by Catheryn, the horse's spirit awakens from within the weapon and grants the armed warrior an immense increase in speed and stamina. --- Personal Skills: Axemanship Bartering/Persuasion Perversion Cooking Meat Some Martial Arts Generic Survivalist Stuff Personal Belongings: Mom's Lockbox: A small brass container, locked and without a key. Finding it wrong to pry or break the keepsake from her mother open, Catheryn simply holds it as a reminder to let go of her former life and focus on her new one. Several peers of her have tried to steal this item to discover it's contents, though many of them find a grisly ending.. totally not death. Additional Info: ~
6,489	179	14	2,798	1,688	Turning to the newest member of their table, Clark gave Aislinn much the same greeting as the others; namely a small wave and nod. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind,” he said, nodding at the two distracted females before glancing behind the brunette at Juno’s antics across the cafeteria. Though he gave the girl a raised eyebrow, his reaction wasn’t much more than that and shrugged in response to her question. “S’alright, and the lineup wasn’t too long. Not like there’s a real difference in quality.” He wasn’t really bashing on the cafeteria, given that it was free food, but to make feeding several hundred kids affordable the ball had to get dropped somewhere. He gave Katsuo a friendly wave as per usual when the younger boy sat down, and a small, “Hey.” Eyes focusing back on the commotion a bit farther off, he watched with an amused expression as the two’s Sentients tumbled around on the cafeteria floor with one another. Idly, he asked, “Any plans for a concert any time soon?” While Clark didn’t feel particularly strongly about the events, aside from supporting his “friend” in his endeavors, his Divine Spirit did rather enjoy the events. Cheer and happiness, regardless of what its cause was, always seemed to sit well with it. Like with Aalis, he really only knew Helena by association with a few others, but the greeting she received was nevertheless practically the same. The use of her Xenos had never really sat well with him for some reason, his vision going all blurry if he watched her body shimmer, shake, and separate. Rubbing his eyes to clear them, he managed to blink the spots out just in time for Catherine’s arrival. “Well, I did hear a rumor about some a duel between Xerxes and Vlad, with the Knights interfering apparently. Don’t really know too much though.” Having given his piece, he looked around for the last member of their group fruitlessly before propping an arm onto the table and resting his chin onto it to wait. He wasn’t exactly ignoring Catherine, as his head tilted left to right with each bob she made, as if he was confused by what she meant. That came to an end soon enough though as something caused the entire cafeteria to quiet down. Looking up at the unnatural silence, it wasn’t too hard to find the source given they were literally in one another’s face and yelling for the student body to hear. Of course, before things could actually escalate to physical violence the cafeteria doors were thrown open and a pair stepped through. At their appearance, Clark looked away with a sigh. There wasn’t really a need to keep watching when the conclusion was basically written in stone now. Letting the scowl drop, he clasped his hands together for a moment before he dug into the free food. He needed to enjoy something after that little display.	Hawawa. - Name - Clark Walter Motto: “There’s generally something new to find if you’ll just reach forward.” Age: 18 Gender: Male --- - Aspect of... Santa Claus!- Form of Aspect: The Bottomless Bag of Gifts (BBG, Not actual name) Appearance of Aspect:A large red fleece bag with a white trim at the top and two white pom-poms at the end of a red drawstring. The bag is quite large, about 6’ in length and 3’ across, and it always looks full. Opening it reveals a bag full of presents to outside observers, despite it being empty in reality. While Clark manages to carry it around with seemingly no trouble, anyone will find themselves to unable to move the bag or access its contents. It has little value as a weapon, as despite being “full” it hits with as much weight as an empty fleece bag. It is just as durable as other Weapons though, and can be used effectively for defense given it’s large area and light weight. Xeno: Gratuitous Gift Giving (GGG) is the ability shared between Clark and his “weapon”. As its name implies, the ability allows for Clark to reach into the BBG and pull out a random gift of some beneficial value. He’s generally unable to influence the type of “gift” he pulls free, save for special circumstances like being in combat. While the limits of this ability have yet to be explored, Clark seems to have discovered some guidelines for how it functions.All items, be they magical or mundane, drawn out are consumables, a one-time use. Food and medicine seem to be the most common objects pulled out.The BBG has a daily usage of between 5-10 times. Upon reaching the limit, any further attempts for items will result in coal. Any items drawn out will expire and vanish at the end of 24 hours, meaning stockpiling is sadly not possible.While weapons are possible, they do not seem to appear unless within a combat situation. Those that are drawn are always non-lethal in nature. Generally grenades of some type. Magical results have varied from an ethereal bow that shot a single arrow that rooted his enemy with spectral chains, to a crystal hammer that shattered on impact but released a powerful shockwave.Odds seem to be something along the lines of a 50/50 chance for food or medicine, with an unnoticeable chance for other items. In combat the odds change to 25/25/50 for food, medicine, and weapons. Magical items seem to appear with a 10% chance at all times.I Go Anywhere (IGA) is the ability given to Clark as the Aspect of Santa Claus. It allows for him to unlock or, in the case of magic, dispel any non-offensive security measures in place at any residence. Residence being defined as any place or object designed/intended to house people (RV, trailers, mental hospitals, hotels, etc.). While he still has to deal with offensive security measures on his own, even the most advanced locks will simply fall open for him. Creations by other Aspects will give him more trouble, but ultimately fall as well unless they have some sort of conceptual backing that clashes with IGA. --- Personal Skills: A fairly good cook. Not everything he pulls out is ready to eat. Means he's fairly good at setting up a makeshift kitchen.Brawling. He might not look it, but Clark can throw down fairly well. While his Xeno can help him in combat, it's not something he can solely rely on. To that end, he's a decent unarmed combatant, even if it may not be all that effective against other Aspects.A fairly good swimmer, even if not in the competitive sense. While he doesn't train for it, the fact that he's on an island means he doesn't have to go far to go for a swim.An academic. One of the students that attends the academy daily, he's fairly smart and generally one of the top in his classes. Good with extremes in temperatures. He doesn't particularly mind the weather being at either extreme, though he does prefer the cold over heat. He regularly goes for swims in the ocean, even when the temperatures drop to near or below freezing.Somewhat of a good burglar, even if he isn't really proud of it. He can pick more mundane locks without the assistance of his Xeno, thanks to the fact that's he's observed plenty of locks being opened by it. Personal Belongings:Brought a fair bit of stuff to the Academy with him under the assumption he’d be there for a few years. Quickly realized it was good idea, since things were literally good for a day. Still pretty annoyed they took all his clothes though, so now he’s stuck shelling out a chunk of his stipend for god damn clothes.On his person at basically all times:• His cellphone with a wallet case. Holds stuff like IDs, and other important stuff. (Lock picking tools included.) • A pair of earbuds. • Gerber Multi-tool because there’s something in there that you’re going to eventually need. • A very nice Casio watch. Quite useful for other things aside from keeping time. • A plain grey baseball cap. • An old and well-used, but still functioning Zippo. There seems to have been an engraving, but it's too worn away to read anymore. • A pen-pencil, both pen and pencil in one convenient piece. Along with that he carries a small notepad for easier and quicker notes than resorting to his phone.A sizable Swiss Gear backpack. Keeps the following things inside:• A tablet, for use at school and recreation. • Stationery for school. A few lead pencils, a few pens, a ruler, a pair of scissors, etc. Also has a few hundred unused pages of paper through notebooks. • An umbrella for when it rains. • A reusable water bottle. • A lunch box with cutlery for when he does have food to spare. • A lock and its key, nice to have with him. In his suitcase that’s locked up at his shabby residence:• A laptop with accessories (charger, mouse, wires, etc.) because sometimes a tablet just isn’t powerful enough. • A facecloth, hand towel, and bath towel. • Other basic toiletries, eg., an electric razor, toothbrush, nail clippers, tweezers, etc. • Another two sets of plain clothes that he manages to pay for with his stipend. • First aid kit with basic over-the-counter medicines, eg., antibiotic cream, aspirin, ibuprofen, cold/flu medicine. Also has a few multi-vitamins since he expected he'd be eating considerably less healthy outside the house. • Sewing kit because someone has to fix the rips and tears. • Two additional sets of locks, minus the lock that’s keeping the suitcase in place, so totaling four in his possession. • A miniature plushie dressed up as Santa Claus for the shits’n’giggles. The Divine Spirit mostly just sighed when he bought it.Additional Info:Rarely involves himself in the duels thanks to the utility provided by GGG. Coupled with the few duels he won when his abilities were still unknown, he’s able to live fairly comfortably. On occasions he pulls something magical, he's been known to bargain with other students. While rare, there are days where he finds himself with extra uses of GGG left over and during these times he's known to lend a helping hand to those who need it. People aren't really sure if it's him or his Divine Spirit's influence, but those on the receiving end generally don't care. Clark's theme I guess. Energetic; not exactly happy, but certainly upbeat; fast-paced, but still somewhat relaxing thanks to its jazzy feel. Is rather tall, but thin rather than portly. At about 1.85m or 6' and 160lb.
6,490	179	15	1,881	771	Piccard skipped class that period, and stayed in his own room, if it was either some useful subject like Physics or History, he would definitely not miss it for the world. But the current subject was English, and he already knows everything he needs to about his native language anyway. He was wearing his flight goggles while he tinkered with a certain machine, several sized lenses held up onto an inclined wooden base in no particular order. He set it under the opening in his window where the sun shone through. The sun's beam struck the first lens and focused into the next lens, into the next, and so on. He then put an ice cube underneath the last lens and on top of the ice cube, a piece of glass attached to a small tube, going to a different, sealed container. The ice then started to melt, some into steam, others into water. The steam collected into the container above, and into the tube. A few drops of condensed water fell into the sealed container. After all the ice was melted, Piccard wiped the table of remaining water, and checked the container, there was only a slightly sizeable blob of water in the container. He sighed and immediately drank it. It wasn't productive, in fact, Piccard himself wasn't even sure what he was doing, but it was always healthy to have a hobby. He looked at the self-made clock hung on the wall, it was just about time for lunch. He went out of his studio-slash-lab, and into his room, he raised his goggles that he had forgotten to take off earlier, and wore his jacket. He made his way to the cafeteria, and saw how packed it was, he slowly raised his right hand to his face, and slowly bowed his head into his hand. Facepalm. Yes, the consequences of his redundancy was rearing its ugly head once more. He sighed, and waited outside the cafeteria for the line to die down, one of the perks of being a tinkerer was that he was used to frustrating situations, and in turn was much more patient. The crowd finally thinned itself, and Piccard finally entered. Although, as soon as he stepped inside, instead of the usual chatter, he heard shouts and insults, he eyed the commotion with half-parts caution, and half-parts uninterest. He picked up a tray while still eyeing the two students arguing. He went to the hot food queue, got himself some turkey, and went to the soup line and got chowder. Piccard looked back at the two students and saw that the commotion had calmed when he was finished collecting his food-stuff, one of the black-uniformed men was taking the two students out of the area. He now started searching for a table, and found where Aislinn, Clark, and the always-gender ambiguous Keepa were sitting, Keepa's true gender may trouble some other students, but to him, 'looks like a girl, sounds like a girl, is a girl.' So he didn't mind much. He made his way to their table. "Hi guys. I'm gonna sit here if you don't mind." He said with a smile, his eyes going to each of them. He set his tray down and sat a few inches beside Aislinn. He gave Keepa a small nod and a smile. He cracked his neck to either side. "So Clark, got anything to trade? I happen to have something back at my room that you may be interested in." He said with a smile. "Aislinn, I got your commission, almost finished, I trust I'll get compensated handsomely?" With a sly smirk and a wink.	- Helena Ackerman - Motto: Three's a crowd, you know. Age: 17 Gender: Female --- - Aspect of...The Morrigan- Form of Aspect: The Morrigan's Brand Appearance of Aspect: Helena's Conceptual tattoo is located on the back of her left hand and takes the form of three intertwining circles in red. When her Xeno activates, the three circles of the brand split apart and become separate from each other, only to intertwine again once Helena stops using her power. Xeno: Tripartite When activated, Helena's body splits into three identical copies of each other, channeling the Morrigan's aspect of being a triple deity. Each body is linked with Helena's mind, allowing them all to share the same thoughts as each other. Each body is just as strong and quick as Helena would be if she didn't separate. However, when one body takes damage, the other two do as well, and Helena suffers the accumulated damage from each body when they recombine, effectively tripling the amount of pain and damage she takes when she uses her Xeno. She can combine and split her bodies at will as long as they are touching each other. --- Personal Skills: - Muay Thai - Programming/coding - Italian cooking - Korean-level RTS skills Personal Belongings: - Laptop computer - Leather laptop bag - Basic school supplies - Smartphone Additional Info: - Shamelessly uses her Xeno to multitask all the time. - Theme song: X2nUvtnNq1A
6,491	179	16	986	1,744	'Santa Clark' It had a good ring and I would be sure to work it into the mix. The people filed into their lines and then up to the table, I was a bit distracted with my choices; a container of one of those strange juice that was always frozen by the time lunch rolled around. After my display I shrugged, it seemed like The 'chew you up and spit you out' motion had worked, more or less. I was surprised by the lack of people who knew anything about my fight this morning, although I suppose it was better that way, I'd hate to accrue distaste from faction...which I suppose is the reason why I've abstained from their call. I bit off the end of my sammich before dunking it into the thick soup I had gotten as a combo. "Uhao- no, not at all" I called to first Aislinn Who had wanted to sit at the table. I took a bite, wiping my mouth with one of the excess of napkins that I had made a point to gather. I nodded to Piccard, figuring people had better things to do than nod at each other as I sunk my teeth into the soupy-sandwich that I would make most of my lunch out of.... Not to mention with people so distracted by the classmates being dragged off. ~~~~~~~~~ Keepa paused while the rabble rousers were dragged off, the silence having been broken by the copy of Helena exploding at the sight of Ashita. With little to no understanding of Hearthstone, Keepa let the rest of it be, diving into their soupy sandwich without quarter. The idea of the disciplinary faculty being a sterilized white-coat Gman with zipties frightened Keepa, although they supposed they had nothing to worry about, being an upstanding bystander as they were. "Top Idol?" Keepa asked, usually kept in the dark about everything that went on. The reason was unknown, but it was still a happening. "I-ehrmm, I do believe that there is...progress"	Keepa stands at 5'7. Under the attire, Wynne wears lightly armored combat webbing to hide their otherwise exposed middrift between their short sleeveless shirt and black pleated skirt. Also wears mid-thigh socks and snug-fitting knee-high boots which have a slight heel on them (for that extra inch). General attire changes occasionally and will be explained as it does. ~ Keepakura Wynne Lumiere ~ Motto: "You first need to reach the head of the snake before you can cut it off" Age 16 Gender: ---- ~ Aspect of...Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye ~ Form of Aspect The Blessing of Ouroboros Appearance of Aspect The aspect takes the form of Keepa's left arm which is fixed to a prosthetic mount replacing their shoulder after a duel that went south. Previously, the Aspect was a gauntlet, but without a tie to the wielder upon which to affix itself (namely a hand with a pulse) it became their new arm. The arm has doll-like joints and hinges capable of reaching beyond normal human anatomy. It possesses a porcelain smoothness and shine with the only detraction being a dark mass which can sometimes be seen through the material to be swirling; writhing, like a snake coiling and shifting in a tight container, this appearance shifts with mood and occurs everywhere from the shoulder mount to the tips of the fingers. The fingers have slight claw-like points to them, not enough to be dangerous...unless gripping something with enough deliberate force. Xeno The dark mass within the arm can reveal itself to be the blessing, forcing the plating apart as it uncoils and stretching a distance of around 10-15ft to use its mass and the clinging plates of the arm's frame as an animated whip of sorts. The internal mass is ink black with the apparent texture of scales while the pinky of the finger shifts next to the thumb to form a serpent's head; the fingers parting between the three remaining knuckles to give the appearance of slit eyes which match similar slits on either side of the hand. True to the aspect of a serpent, the spiked fingertips course and drip with a murky violet liquid which evaporates after short exposure to air. A "bite" from the newly formed head can be quite painful from the vicious force of the spiked finger-fangs which dig deep and are loath to let go after finding its mark. The Plates of the arm are capable of sustaining severe punishment, though the serpent-like mass they're bound to slices like normal flesh although with a bit less give. Severed chunks rapidly petrify and deteriorates to ash, plates and all. However, the stub of the arm rapidly gains characteristics of the previous hand, although thinner or shorter. To balance this injury process, the violet liquid which drips from the serpent's fangs breaks down inanimate matter for consumption by the arm, restoring its mass proportionately but with a distinct taste for metal. Consumption through these means can cause the arm to grow up to twice its 'normal' size. Leftover mass from over-consumption can easily be 'shed' restoring the arm to its original shape, although the doll-like armor plates slowly grow back over the course of the hour as the serpent properly digests and sheds. Alternatively, in the first few seconds of consuming material, especially metal, said material can be expelled as a projectile. While this violet 'venom' has no effect on humans, likely due to oxygen content in blood quickly counteracting its effects as it dissipates, residual venom can leave unseemly pock-marks on armor or surfaces it strikes...assuming there is any left by the time the projectile makes contact. ---- Personal Skills Tailoring Word-craft Martial Arts Contortionism Acrobatics Cooking mostly anything that can go over noodles "microwave eggs in a cup" Reaching things on the top shelf "Disguise" Personal Belongings A black leather messenger bag slung to the right containing... - Assorted school supplies - Silver-adorned pocketwatch with picture of parents, inside - Small camper's pocket knife (Fork, spoon, knife, can opener, scissors) - Pink and lime green plaid diary (in French) Additional Info - French accent - Takes advantage of androgynous appearance both ways. Many from both genders find Keepa's qualities and mannerisms oddly alluring, although Keepa's actual gender remains a mystery. (Subject to additions and/or changes)
6,492	180	0	694	2,139	The date was May 15th, 1972 Reports from numerous doctors and hospitals around the world started to pour into health organizations about strange and new mutations occurring in young men and women. The symptoms were varied and all brought fear to those who knew but didn't understand. In an emergency meeting held deep within the secret coves of Washington DC. President Richard Nixon met with top members in the CIA, FBI, Health Organizations, and other top experts to discuss the matters. What followed was a long, intense discussion over what to do with what was now being referred to as 'the X-gene'. Finally top genetics scientist Dr. Charles Xavier, alongside Dr. Hank McCoy. Came up with a solution, the world might be prepared to except such people with powers, but the possibility of it was realistically slim to not at all possible. Thus using a new program known as Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, shortened into the acronym S.H.I.E.L.D. A program could be established which would essentially work behind the scenes and away from the public. Helping control those with these powers while keeping them out of the public's attention or knowledge. While just about all in attendance liked the idea, one man very much opposed the plan. Erik Lehnsherr, a man who at a very young age survived the holocaust and at this point a close associate of Xavier's. Felt that mutants shouldn't have to hide themselves from the public just because of something that wasn't their fault. If anything, mutants should be embraced, revered. His strong opinions and an already tense atmosphere lead to issues and after an incident that is closely classified. Erik Lehnsherr has gone missing and not seen since. When the program began, known simply as “Project X-Men”. The first five people brought in were Scott Summers, Jeanne Gray, Bobby Drake, Warren Worthington III, and Dr. Hank McCoy as an advisor and head of the science and research department. Slowly as time passed the organization grew and blossomed. What once was a single group of a few trained agents has become a world wide network of organizations around the world each holding the same task of helping fellow mutants while ensuring secrecy from the public. The original four agents have all since retired from active work and now either handle administrative work in the organization's HQ, head up training divisions, or have retired peacefully. As 2015 begins, Project: X-Men starts a new chapter as young agents finish their training in hand-to-hand combat, power control, firearm usage, automotive driving, and other courses. They will begin handling assignments in areas around North and South America. However, Project: X-Men's one naysayer from so long ago is planning to return, and he's bringing madness and anarchy with him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Yeah I'll take a baconzilla value meal, with a cola to drink and the curly fries. Extra sauce with those fries.” “That will be 9.96 at the next window please sir.” “Bleedin' ell they running out of pigs to kill around here or something?” Pietro Maximoff was running fashionably late to work, again. You couldn't tell with him at the drive-thru of a nearby fast food place. Quietly tapping the top of his car's steering wheel as the cars ahead of him slowly got and paid for their food. Still considering the amount of times Pietro made it a goal to show up fashionably late. The higher ups have basically given up on getting him to show up when he was suppose too, as there wasn't a fine or punishment that would get him to stop. “Here's your food.” “Hmm, thank you love.” “I like your accent...” “Thanks.” Pietro chuckled as he left the drive-thru and back onto the main road. Nice try sweetheart, his never been desperate enough to hook up with some broad at a fast food place. Pietro drove through the city streets of Washington DC. Periodically picking through his bag of food for the occasional fry. Such was another day in the life of the mutant that life was made to forget. Sweep under the rug of society for something he didn't have any say in. Frankly though, Pietro wouldn't have it any other way. As he pulled up into the massive parking lot of the pentagon. Pietro quietly killed the engine of his car. Strolling out with food in hand as he made his way in. Using the numerous eye scanners, secret lifts, and other various security booths to make his way into the base for Project: X-Men which existed some feet underground. It was always an interesting sight when coming in. Seeing some giant pink blob with skeletal systems and organs carrying a vast amount of filled and lidded coffee cups. An Altantian scurrying past a Kree warrior and normal looking scientist looking like they were having a chat of the Premier League scores from the night before. Leaving Pietro the perfect timing as he walked past to give the both of them his single thought on the topic manner with a “Fuck Man U!” As Pietro strolled past the research and developments lab. A vast system of anything you can imagine involving science, along with other things varying from the normal to the bizarre even for people who work here. Pietro peeked in noticing how the place seemed unusually quiet barred for one man who was clearly sleeping at his computer using the keyboard as a makeshift pillow. Shaking his head Pietro gave the plexiglass window between him and the room a good slam with an closed fist before continuing on to his personally appointed office. Causing Dr. Nathan Richards to shoot up from his chair, keyboard grooves completely indented in his face. “UGH I WASN'T KISSING THE PENGUIN SANTA!” Nathan Richards declared as he was shocked out his sleep. Finally realizing where he was as he shook his head. Letting his face reform perfectly. Nathan Richards quietly groaned as he rubbed his face in his fingertips. All of its features contorting and squishing around before snapping back to normal as Nathan sighed. Finally realizing he had dozed off from the night before while working on his revisionist of the impulse laser system. A means of halting any guilty fiends without causing any physical harm to them. When the AI based computer tests of the theory were put into work, the laser only worked in causing the target to merely explode. Which isn't quite what they were looking for out of the system. Impressive as it is to see a human spine get crumbled and desiccated so beautifully unique in its horrifying gore. As Nathan sighed a bit to himself, he got up from the chair, realizing he was going to need to get out of the lab for a bit before his brain turned to mush.	Full name: Pietro Maximoff Codename: Quicksilver Age: 22 From: London, England Mutations: Able to run at speeds close to the speed of sound (770 mph). Has frictional and wind resistance when doing so. Appearance: !( "Fastest prick alive") Special skills: Was trained specifically in jeet kune do for maximum efficiency with high speed attacks. Has more than natural ability in theft and training in breaking security systems. Background: A foster child since birth, Pietro has always had problems with authority figures. He was constantly caught stealing or causing some other level of mischief. Once his powers manifested however Pietro was on the verge of planning much bigger heists and other crimes to gain enough personal wealth to live well. This all changed however when he was met with an older man. He claimed he was Pietro's natural father and awaited this moment in the young man's life. The experience for Pietro was all at once confusing and infuriating, but he played along wanting to find out if the old man was speaking the truth. He was brought to an underground bunker in the Midwest US filled with other mutants. Where the old man spoke of their time coming and other cult like things. Pietro was unamused and convinced that if this man WAS his father, that he was better off without him. After making a quick escape he was found by members of the Project. Leaving behind his minor criminal ways was a bit difficult for Pietro, but it became easier as he started to exceed in training and even enjoy himself. All in all this was partially finding his cause in life, and partly rebelling against daddy. Additional notes: Owns a small one bedroom apartment and a 2014 Hyundai Veloster. Though he likes the car and will use it, he must prefers running. Much MUCH quicker and always more fun to him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Full name: Nathaniel Reed Richards Codename: Dr. Fantastic Age: 26 From: Liverpool, England Mutations: Able to stretch up to three miles long, while also able to compress, reshape, inflate, flatten, and any other kinds of elastic abilities at will. Appearance: !( "The doctor") Special skills: An intellectual genius of an extremely high caliber, Nathan holds doctorates in numerous degrees and countless other degrees in almost all forms of science. Also partial to billiards, darts, and other pub sports... despite not being much of a drinker. Background: Nathaniel Reed Richards is an interesting case in terms of people serving under Project: X-Men. Raised in the heart of England, the young man showcased right from an early age an incredible knack for science and technology. Being able to create and innovate even from an early age. That said not too much is really known about him. For a long time Nathan tended to keep to himself. Wasn't very social outside of the schools he would regularly graduate from early. Even if his very friendly and excitable nature would suggest otherwise. When Nathan moved to America to further his studies it was when he first met Susan Storm. He was fascinated by her stunning beauty and equally beautiful smarts. Though at this time she spent half her time in school and the other half working at a store Nathan began frequenting, more so just to talk to her than for any other real reason. He finally worked up his own courage and asked her out on a date. Leading to a relationship between the two. Finally one night Nathan brought her up to his messy but still somehow organized apartment wanting to show her something important. A spacecraft that Nathan believed would revolutionized traveling through the stars. He wanted Susan to join him on its maiden voyage. It was on that faithful first test however the two encountered a rare cosmic shower coming around Earth. The ship wasn't properly protected as much as Nathan planned. Causing him to have to bring it in for an early landing. It was then that the two discovered after a day's time the ship had radiated their molecular structures. Causing the both of them to develop superpowers. Soon after Project: X-Men came around wanting them to join. They both did, but Reed to this day still regrets what he did to Susan, wanting to make things right somehow. Still, Nathan quite enjoys his new life. He is one of the heads of Dr. McCoy's research and development labs despite his young age, and even makes it a habit to go out on missions. After all, all work and no play makes Nathan bored, and the offices know what kind of things happen when Nathan gets bored... here's a hint, usually it involves explosions or something crazy in the name of science. Additional notes: The only real field of training Nathan has no passing score in is firearms training. Nathan very strongly is against guns and that level of violence. Although not having a passing score in every study for agent work typically means not being allowed to have agent work. Nathan was given special permission for it due to the usefulness of his powers, as well as his immense knowledge.
6,493	180	1	1,894	5,793	Making his way to the pentagon building, Peter Parker sat in his car, listening to some pop song on the radio. It was one of two cars be drove, the other one being the car he bought with tournament money he had won the night of his uncle's death. He bought the car he was planning on getting as a reminder of his uncle, whom he had an argument with just hours before he was killed. Peter wasn't really the kind of guy to have a garage full of cars, but that one had irreplaceable and sentimental value to him, and he couldn't get rid of the old beater if he tried. A few minutes later, Peter parked his car in his usual spot near the pentagon and walked the rest of the way to the building. While he would normally swing through the city in his costume, his job working for SHIELD and with the Project: X-men had made changes to his life. Under his agent suit he wore his specially made stealth-spider suit, which had been designed by the people of SHIELD and project: X-men. He loved it, and it was much better than the ( He kept his mask inside the hidden pocket on the inside of his suit jacket so nobody could see it, but it was still there when needed. Several scanners and secret lifts later, Parker entered the X-men level, where he had been working for the last few months. When he had first joined SHIELD, it was more of a simple affiliation since he continued to fight crime and work for the Daily Bugle to pay rent. A few weeks of that, and Peter was made an official SHIELD agent, where he was paid actual money by them, and a fair amount of it. While he continued to fight crime, he also did a plethora of missions just for the agency, like stealth and infiltration. Eventually, he was moved to DC to be a part of the X-men program, but still more or less did the same things. Though, he did make friends like Doctor Richards and Hank Mccoy who were also scientists like he was. With Richards in mind, Peter decided to take a peak into his office, finding the elastic man on his way to the door. Peter opened the door fully and smiled at him. "Hey Reed, you been here all night?" He asked him, taking in the signs of the office and Doctor Richards himself.	Full name: Peter Benjamin Parker Codename: Spiderman Age: 19 From: Queens, New York Mutations: _Spider Physiology_ Peter Parker, after being bitten by a radioactive spider, has the proportionate strength of a spider, superhuman strength and speed, and more durable flesh and bones. He also has enhanced reflexes and equilibrium, allowing him to hold almost any position. _Wall crawling_ Because of the radioactive spider, Parker developed microscopic hooks all over his body that he can expose of hide at will. While primarily used on his hands and sometimes feet, They are also used to keep his mask from falling off. These microscopic hooks can cling on to nearly any surface, and only has difficulty scaling things coated in thick, gooey liquids. _Web Shooting_ Parker has the ability to shoot webs out of his wrists, and use them as ropes to swing from location to location. The webs are extremely durable, and can be used in a multitude of ways. While he can run out of webbing to use, it is a rare occurrence that only happens when Parker fails to have enough protein in his body. _Spider Sense_ A heightened danger sense of sorts, the spider sense allows Parker to stay safe from immediate danger. On occasion, his spider sense has overridden his reflexes to keep him from dying. Appearance:!( "Parker") Special skills: -_Genius Level intellect._ Parker has an IQ of 250 and is academically gifted. He soars in science, and has a strong affinity for it. -_Master Acrobat_ -_Master at several hand to hand combat styles_ Background: Born in Queens, New York, Peter Parker is the son to SHIELD agents Richard and Mary Parker. At a young and unmemorable age, Parker's parents were killed on a mission, and Peter was handed over to his aunt and uncle, Ben and May Parker. They never told him anything of his parent's involvement with SHIELD, in hopes of having him lead a normal childhood. Of course, his genius intellect and uncanny knack for inventing made him a popular child, even if it was more like notoriety. At the age of fifteen, Peter went on a field trip to Oscorp, the corporation belonging to the father of his long-time friend, Harry Osborn. During the field trip, Parker encountered a radioactive spider, which bit him and mutated him. Soon after, he was given the abilities of a spider. While startled about the abilities at first, he quickly grew to loving them, and became the superhero known as Spiderman. SHIELD was quick to pick up on the Parker child, and monitored him and his superhero activities. It wasn't until Peter became eighteen that SHIELD confronted him and offered to let him into their ranks. He was quick to accept, and learned the tricks of the trade at a rapid pace. Additional notes: -Since being inducted into SHIELD, Parker has stopped using his original Spider-man suit, and has instead begun to use a ( while on the job. -Parker has also been known to not use any suit at all if the job requires that he need to be in different attire.
6,494	180	2	37	1,038	It was already morning and the day was beautiful as ever. It has been long since she was in a good mood and actually wanting to go to her job. What was her job exactly? Susan was working with the project X-men. It has been a quite time that she started to work there with the others, especially because she gets to see her boyfriend there lots of times. As she woke up from her sleep, Susan put on her working clothes and strutted to her car, making her way towards her daily job. But first she made a quick little stop at the coffee shop, there she got two coffees one for herself and the other one for Nathan, such a good girlfriend right? Few minutes later, Susan arrived at her job. Smiling at the secretary saying. "Keep doing your job, good good job." the blondie said very happy as she went down to the project x-men base. First scanning and what not, as she sipped her coffee making her way to her boyfriend. "Well. It seems someone didn't sleep well? What's happened...?" Susan asked concerned handing Nathan his coffee. "Maybe that should wake you up or something." she did notice that he wasn't in the lab anymore. That was weird, he was always there.	!( "enter image title here") Full name: Susan 'Storm' Richards Codename: Invisible Woman Age: 25 From: Brooklyn, New York. Mutations: _Invisibility:_ Susan has the mental ability to manipulate ambient cosmic energy for a variety of effects, including the rendering of herself and other objects invisible, and the construction of solid, invisible force fields. In an as yet unknown manner, cosmic energy interacts with the cells of her entire body in such a way as to produce a new form of energy with unusual properties. _Force Fields:_ Susan's second ability is to produce a certain energy manifestation, the cells of her brain produce a different, more potent manifestation. Through concentration, she is able to project a field of psionic force. She can manipulate into a number of relatively simple forms: rectangular planes, cylinders, globes, domes, cones, and so on. Special skills: Susan is an expert at lying to others, because she is a great actress and is trying to do big with movies and such. She is also capable of hand to hand combat, but isn't that good, normal type. Yes, Susan is book smart and street smart, very intelligent but not highly like someone she knows. cough Nathan. cough Background: Susan was born in Brooklyn, New York. Yes, the hood. There were many bad things that happened there but her parent-mother managed to keep her alive and well. Years later, she grew up to be a beautiful young lady, and people always thought that she was a geeky girl because she never went out with friends, always studied, always in the library... and well she goes to school and comes back home. It's not that her parents didn't let her... they actually wanted for her to go out there and be social, but she didn't want too. What was the reason why she didn't want to do that? Oh because people could actually make fun of the girl. And that was something that she didn't want to do, by that time she wore big around glasses, her mother didn't have enough money for another.. decent looking glasses. But they were the only ones that was use for her. Years passed, Susan was now a young adult.. her parents were dead, may they rest in peace. Her mother died because of a disease and her father.. well he wasn't never there for her, so. And from there... Susan got a job .. far from New york, and she received her mutation powers in space. Additional notes: Susan has a younger brother named, Jonny Storm. She is also dating a guy known as Nathan Richards.
6,495	180	3	2,659	1,220	Tires screeched around a concrete gymnasium, dotted with orange cones and streaks of black staining the grey, cold floor. The scream of the car protesting was matched by the squeal of the blonde woman behind it’s controls, who suddenly stopped the vehicle. Pale white fingers clung to the steering wheel as Katya breathed heavily, one of the orange cones the rear part of the car had hit just now slowly falling over. “Dammit,” she whispered, Russian accent tinging her voice. Her blue, icy eyes looking around at the driving course she’d just completed. Er well… tried to complete. She knew that the defensive driving course was her weakest subject, evidenced at the moment by the fact that half the cones were toppled over. “I should have starded de day wid gun training…” she mumbled, getting out of the car and running her fingers through her long hair. Katya slammed the door behind her and walked out of the large, echoing room. The black witch wore a dress, per her usual attire, this one cut off just above the knee and sleeveless. Her shoes were black ankle boots, a moon pendant bracelet dangling from her wrist. She opened the door that led to one of the connective hallways, and stuck her head out, looking back and forth. Good. No one had seen her looking incapable. She hated looking insufficient. Turning out of the room, door shutting slowly behind her, she walked with a slightly hunched shoulder. Being a little tall at 5’7”, she had a bad habit of trying to make herself appear shorter. She also had a habit of letting her wavy locks fall in front of her face, making many think she was shy, which she didn’t find true in her opinion. When she had something to say, she said it. That wasn't shy, right? While making her way through the labyrinth that was the headquarters of Project X-men, but what she had called home for several years now, Katya smelled warm caramel. Sniffing the air, shoulder no longer hunched, she followed the smell until she heard voices as well. Ah, so her fellow… mutants… had arrived. At least some of them. She followed the noise and smell until her eyes landed on Riley’s coffee and then Riley herself. “Ah, Good Morning,” she said, eyes flickering past the girl to see the others now and nodding, indicating her greeting was meant for all of them.	Full name: Katya Annik Rasputina/Rasputin Codename: _Sorceress_ Age: 21 From: Russia Mutations: Teleportation, Psionic Shields !( "Katya") Special skills: Sorcery spells (black magic), hand to hand combat & weapons training thanks to Project: X-Men (especially talented at the sword and axes) Background: Katya was born in 1994 just before her mother caught the Legacy Virus and died. Her father was not a mutant, but died soon after as well, leaving Katya to be raised by her grandmother and grandfather. She was raised to try and subdue her mutant powers, as her grandparents believed their children’s abilities were what sent them away from Russia and led to their demise. Katya believed herself a superhero though, and practiced in secret, saving little animals and fellow school mates. When she was around 7 years old, one of the demons from Limbo that helped her mother develop her black magic showed up and tried to possess the young girl, but was unable to because of her psionic shields. Instead, it began teaching her the art of black magic in hopes to gain her trust and allow her into her mind. Katya began learning spells like how to bind others, awareness of others with magic abilities, astral projection while sleeping, and other simple spells. At the age of 10, Katya met her uncles, Colossus and Mikhail, Colossus having been resurrected by Ord. During this trip, he saw much of his sister in his niece, and wanted to make sure she didn’t go on a dark path there in Russia. He brought her back with him to the USA and to the capable hands of the X-men when she was 11. In the last 10 years, she has learned how to properly control her mutations, and many other skills necessary for an X-man like hand to hand combat (though she sucks at driving despite classes). The demon from her childhood has followed her though and helped her secretly develop her black magic, though she has tried to ignore him for the most part. Her teachers and fellow X-men remain unaware for the most part as she prevents them from reading her mind, but she has gotten remarkably more capable at those simple, black magic spells. Additional notes: - I basically tried to make Katya who Illyana (Magik) would have been if not taken to Limbo, but since Magik was the ruler of Limbo in the comics, I felt it only right to include some magic. - She still retains a soft Russian accent.
6,496	180	4	1,645	768	It wasn't a beeping alarm clock which woke Megan Gwynn this morning, instead it was snoring. Extremely loud and irritating snoring, which didn't help the hangover. Its source, as Megan soon discovered as she swung out of bed with a groan, was the half naked body of her friend Santo on her bedroom. Well Santo wasn't exactly her friend. More like a friend of a friend, who coincidentally was also curled up on her floor. Rubbing her eyes she groaned once more, maneuvering around the two as she made her way to her wardrobe door, which was already ajar due to how full it was. A young pink-haired woman stared sleepily at her in the mirror on the back of the door as she opened it. The neatness of her hair made her smile, as it didn't look completely terrible to he relief. Behind her reflection, her fairly-like wings fluttered. Yes, Megan had wings. Dressing quickly, she pulled on a pair of black jeans, deciding to leave on the t-shirt she had worn to bed. Once foundation and mascara had been applied, she began making her way out the room, giving both of the sleeping boys a short kick as she passed, with the two awaking yelping in pain. The woman's laugh was cut short however as she discovered the aftermath of her roommate's party outside. The first thing she encountered was the sheer stench. The room stank of booze and strangely slightly of piss, although she didn't wish to dwell long on why. The floor and the majority of the apartment's shelves and furniture were covered with cans and bottles, as well as general leftovers. Gazing across the room as she made her way to the fridge, she spied a hat hanging on Victor's bedroom door handle which explain why he had ended up camped out on her floor with Santo. The sofa was also occupied, although Megan couldn't spy whoever it was. After a quick glass of juice, she made her exit, making sure that her coat covered her rainbow coloured wings. Despite how uncomfortable it may be, covering them was the only way she was able to keep a normal life outside of her job. Luckily Victor, Santo and all her other friends were complete dicks like her old classmates at college so they saw no problem with it, meaning at home she could flutter around the ceiling to her hearts content if she wanted to. Truly her life now was great, a fact she noted as she made her way down the street towards the bus stop. She had superpowers, great friends and above all, an amazing job. That's right, Megan was a secret agent! By day she was regular pink-haired Megan Gwynn, but by night and the majority of the day actually she was Pixie, agent of the X-men! Before long, the bus arrived down the road from the Pentagon and after a short walk she was inside, scanner her eye's and passing through the offer forms of security the place had. Passing through the central corridor of the Project X-men department, Pixie gave a wave to colleagues and the like. Ahead she spied the majority of the team. It was a fairly small bunch, although they were kind and if nothing else understood the pain and hardship she had faced throughout life as a mutant. Beaming she approached, stopping next to Katya and putting her arm around her. "How long until we got until the meeting?" She questioned with a smile.	Full name: Megan Gwynn Codename: Pixie Age: 21 From: Abergylid, Wales Mutations: "Fairy-like" wings protrude from Pixie's back, essentially making the girl capable of flight. Pixie's mutant abilities have also resulted in her body being perfectly suited for doing exactly that, toughening her skin, making her respiratory systems more efficient, and making her eyes more resistant to debris while flying. Aside from this, Megan is able to produce spores from her wings which she refers to as "Pixie Dust". These can affect people in numerous ways if they are either breath in or come into contact with a persons, such as causing vivid hallucinations. These visions can't be controlled so who knows what you'll see if you're affected! Appearance: ![]( ![]( Special skills: - Megan is adept at close quarters combat, especially with knives, which is what she uses goes into combat with. - As fighting style goes, Megan is very skilled at Savate which uses the hands and feet as weapons combining elements of western boxing with graceful kicking techniques. She mixes this in with her knife work, which is surprisingly effective. - While not essential, Megan has a degree in philosophy obtained from Stanford University. Background: Megan had a quiet childhood in the small mining village of Abergylid where nothing much ever happened to her. Her father worked down in the mine while her mother was a waitress in the local diner. She was around 11 when her powers kicked in, and while the growth of her wings came as a shock to her parents, they were accepting and vowed that they loved her no matter what. Growing up, Megan decided she didn't want to end up in some rundown town like her parents so sought to leave and venture to University. When she was 18, Megan enrolled in Stanford University in America and soon traveled there in order to study Philosophy. Megan kept her mutant abilities secret throughout her time there, except for a few good friends. She worked hard, yet still found time to socialize, with her even using her "pixie dust" at parties as a quick way to get high. This all changed however in her final year when she was assaulted at a party by a guy from her course. After discovering her wings, he backed off immediately, calling her a freak, beating her instead of having his way with her. The news of her mutation spread quickly around the campus, resulting in her life turning to hell. This gave Megan a valuable lesson on what the world was really like. A world where no one cared about what the guy had done to her, simply because she was a freak and therefore "deserved it" as everyone said. She was losing all hope in the world when the Project found her and offered her a chance to help make the world a better place. Additional notes: - I opted to have Pixie having dyed her hair pink, rather than it being part of her mutation. - I also decided to replace the use of her soul dagger with a general use of knives in combat. This could change if anything similar to the Limbo story-line that took place in the comics happened here. - Following on from above, this means that Pixie also can't use magic either, although she has the potential. - Despite everything which has happened to her, Pixie appears as a bubbly and excitable young woman, with her hiding her true emotions underneath a smile.
6,497	180	5	694	2,139	Nathan sighed to himself as both Peter and Dr. McCoy came up to him. Was it that obvious? He rubbed his eyes as he shook his head. “Look I was working a bit and I didn't realize what time it was until...” Nathan paused trying to come up with either the right answer, or an answer he could get away with. “Midnight?” It didn't sound very convincing but it had to do. “I think I figure out a breakthrough in the non-violent electro halt system. I tried reconfiguring the electrons that the main energy compartment gave out. Last time it made that watermelon explode if you'll recall right? Well this time only PART of the watermelon exploded when I tried it out. THAT is what I call a success!” It was a weird thing with Dr. Richards. Things when he was testing sometimes had a knack for blowing up. If it was the goal or not was usually not the point. Though thankfully Dr. Richards would make sure to protect the HQ if any blast was possibly too dangerous. Course their was that one time he made something that was going to detonate. So reacting quickly Dr. Richards swallowed it using an elastically unhinged jaw and throat. It worked, but Dr. Richards' body was so stretched out by the blast he covered the entire lab in a massive blanket of himself. A dizzy mess for about a few days before he could reform himself properly. “Still not here nor there...” Dr. Richards was going to go into his next plan of attack when he suddenly a warm paper cup tapped against his shoulder. His girlfriend Susan, in her beaming warm smile, instantly made Nathan feel much better. He delightfully took the cup and with a second arm stretched it around her waist. Bringing her close in for a kiss on the cheek. “Eh it was a thing sweetie.” Nathan told her warmly. “Thank you for the coffee though, I need a pick-me-up.” He took a sip, cream and a bit of sugar, just how he liked it. Seriously she was great like that. Before he could sip some more down he paused, a metaphorical light bulb popping up over his head. “Oh dear you know how when we were looking at your powers last I suggested possibly something that can help reverse the light rays that would beam off your eyes thus making it easier to see while you're invisible? I think I might have something but I need to get a shipment of statically charged carbon lenses that should hopefully work with a solar based battery to make it possible for the rays to not interfere with your vision but allow you to remain completely invisible. I'll try to get some tests going soon though.” “Tests that won't involve something exploding I hope...” “Well assuming HEY! That's not funny!”	Full name: Pietro Maximoff Codename: Quicksilver Age: 22 From: London, England Mutations: Able to run at speeds close to the speed of sound (770 mph). Has frictional and wind resistance when doing so. Appearance: !( "Fastest prick alive") Special skills: Was trained specifically in jeet kune do for maximum efficiency with high speed attacks. Has more than natural ability in theft and training in breaking security systems. Background: A foster child since birth, Pietro has always had problems with authority figures. He was constantly caught stealing or causing some other level of mischief. Once his powers manifested however Pietro was on the verge of planning much bigger heists and other crimes to gain enough personal wealth to live well. This all changed however when he was met with an older man. He claimed he was Pietro's natural father and awaited this moment in the young man's life. The experience for Pietro was all at once confusing and infuriating, but he played along wanting to find out if the old man was speaking the truth. He was brought to an underground bunker in the Midwest US filled with other mutants. Where the old man spoke of their time coming and other cult like things. Pietro was unamused and convinced that if this man WAS his father, that he was better off without him. After making a quick escape he was found by members of the Project. Leaving behind his minor criminal ways was a bit difficult for Pietro, but it became easier as he started to exceed in training and even enjoy himself. All in all this was partially finding his cause in life, and partly rebelling against daddy. Additional notes: Owns a small one bedroom apartment and a 2014 Hyundai Veloster. Though he likes the car and will use it, he must prefers running. Much MUCH quicker and always more fun to him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Full name: Nathaniel Reed Richards Codename: Dr. Fantastic Age: 26 From: Liverpool, England Mutations: Able to stretch up to three miles long, while also able to compress, reshape, inflate, flatten, and any other kinds of elastic abilities at will. Appearance: !( "The doctor") Special skills: An intellectual genius of an extremely high caliber, Nathan holds doctorates in numerous degrees and countless other degrees in almost all forms of science. Also partial to billiards, darts, and other pub sports... despite not being much of a drinker. Background: Nathaniel Reed Richards is an interesting case in terms of people serving under Project: X-Men. Raised in the heart of England, the young man showcased right from an early age an incredible knack for science and technology. Being able to create and innovate even from an early age. That said not too much is really known about him. For a long time Nathan tended to keep to himself. Wasn't very social outside of the schools he would regularly graduate from early. Even if his very friendly and excitable nature would suggest otherwise. When Nathan moved to America to further his studies it was when he first met Susan Storm. He was fascinated by her stunning beauty and equally beautiful smarts. Though at this time she spent half her time in school and the other half working at a store Nathan began frequenting, more so just to talk to her than for any other real reason. He finally worked up his own courage and asked her out on a date. Leading to a relationship between the two. Finally one night Nathan brought her up to his messy but still somehow organized apartment wanting to show her something important. A spacecraft that Nathan believed would revolutionized traveling through the stars. He wanted Susan to join him on its maiden voyage. It was on that faithful first test however the two encountered a rare cosmic shower coming around Earth. The ship wasn't properly protected as much as Nathan planned. Causing him to have to bring it in for an early landing. It was then that the two discovered after a day's time the ship had radiated their molecular structures. Causing the both of them to develop superpowers. Soon after Project: X-Men came around wanting them to join. They both did, but Reed to this day still regrets what he did to Susan, wanting to make things right somehow. Still, Nathan quite enjoys his new life. He is one of the heads of Dr. McCoy's research and development labs despite his young age, and even makes it a habit to go out on missions. After all, all work and no play makes Nathan bored, and the offices know what kind of things happen when Nathan gets bored... here's a hint, usually it involves explosions or something crazy in the name of science. Additional notes: The only real field of training Nathan has no passing score in is firearms training. Nathan very strongly is against guns and that level of violence. Although not having a passing score in every study for agent work typically means not being allowed to have agent work. Nathan was given special permission for it due to the usefulness of his powers, as well as his immense knowledge.
6,498	180	6	1,894	5,793	Susan blushed as her boyfriend wrapped his arm around her and kissed her cheek. "Your welcome sweetie. You know you need the coffee because you are always working and you seriously should take a bit of a break honey.." the blondie said kissing her boyfriend's cheek while with her free hand she ruffled his hair. He was also working and he just needed.. at least an hour or two of rest. Probably more but still. "...." Susan stared at her boyfriend as he spoke and spoke about her powers and how he should make her vision better when she turns invisible. Her eyes squinted, as she shook her head and walked towards Nathan. Was he really serious talking about this? Well yeah... she did need to know more about her obtained powers but Nathan seriously needed to take some rest. All the time she talks to him, he always ends up changing the subject OR getting some ideas with a light bulb popping above his head about his super nerdy scientific stuff. WHICH she didn't care about having a boyfriend who is all into the science.. It was just Nathan has been working a little to hard, especially into finding more information about their powers. Susan couldn't help but to giggle softly as she placed a hand on her boyfriend's back. "Honey.... I understand you want to help me out and stuff. And seriously.. I need the help, but today.. you look like you have been working a bit to much.. so please just take a break for a bit.. drink some coffee..." Susan said grabbing Nathan's hand where the coffee was and lifting it up to his mouth so he could sip. If he wasn't going to do that, she should do it herself. "And we will just work on that TOGETHER but later on, alright? And please, seriously.. don't overwork yourself... you seriously don't want to end up exploding other things.... remember the last time you did? she rose an eyebrow shaking her head, poking Nathan's cheek playfully. How cute was he? "Who is laughing..?" And that was Nathan being random, ladies and gentleman. Susan's boyfriend.	Full name: Peter Benjamin Parker Codename: Spiderman Age: 19 From: Queens, New York Mutations: _Spider Physiology_ Peter Parker, after being bitten by a radioactive spider, has the proportionate strength of a spider, superhuman strength and speed, and more durable flesh and bones. He also has enhanced reflexes and equilibrium, allowing him to hold almost any position. _Wall crawling_ Because of the radioactive spider, Parker developed microscopic hooks all over his body that he can expose of hide at will. While primarily used on his hands and sometimes feet, They are also used to keep his mask from falling off. These microscopic hooks can cling on to nearly any surface, and only has difficulty scaling things coated in thick, gooey liquids. _Web Shooting_ Parker has the ability to shoot webs out of his wrists, and use them as ropes to swing from location to location. The webs are extremely durable, and can be used in a multitude of ways. While he can run out of webbing to use, it is a rare occurrence that only happens when Parker fails to have enough protein in his body. _Spider Sense_ A heightened danger sense of sorts, the spider sense allows Parker to stay safe from immediate danger. On occasion, his spider sense has overridden his reflexes to keep him from dying. Appearance:!( "Parker") Special skills: -_Genius Level intellect._ Parker has an IQ of 250 and is academically gifted. He soars in science, and has a strong affinity for it. -_Master Acrobat_ -_Master at several hand to hand combat styles_ Background: Born in Queens, New York, Peter Parker is the son to SHIELD agents Richard and Mary Parker. At a young and unmemorable age, Parker's parents were killed on a mission, and Peter was handed over to his aunt and uncle, Ben and May Parker. They never told him anything of his parent's involvement with SHIELD, in hopes of having him lead a normal childhood. Of course, his genius intellect and uncanny knack for inventing made him a popular child, even if it was more like notoriety. At the age of fifteen, Peter went on a field trip to Oscorp, the corporation belonging to the father of his long-time friend, Harry Osborn. During the field trip, Parker encountered a radioactive spider, which bit him and mutated him. Soon after, he was given the abilities of a spider. While startled about the abilities at first, he quickly grew to loving them, and became the superhero known as Spiderman. SHIELD was quick to pick up on the Parker child, and monitored him and his superhero activities. It wasn't until Peter became eighteen that SHIELD confronted him and offered to let him into their ranks. He was quick to accept, and learned the tricks of the trade at a rapid pace. Additional notes: -Since being inducted into SHIELD, Parker has stopped using his original Spider-man suit, and has instead begun to use a ( while on the job. -Parker has also been known to not use any suit at all if the job requires that he need to be in different attire.
6,499	181	0	1,929	499	Dammit Uriah! Aelystair slammed his fist on the map table and looked at Count Cayne. "The Militant has us to the east and the Dominion has us to the south! Our army is not big enough to handle two fronts anymore! There's get bigger every damn day while ours gets smaller! We need to start dipping into the vaults more. Hammerfell and Skyrim are the Mercenary capitals of Tamriel! I..." Uriah Cayne held up his hand and dismissed Aelystair. He clapped his fist to his armored chest, bowed and left the War Room, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword tightly. He pushed open the door to the Counts Keep and walked into the city of Skingrad.	Name: Aelystair Sivaeryl (Al to his friends.) Gender: Male Age: 30 Race: Redguard-Breton Backstory: Aelystair Sivaeryl was born to Cyrus Wintersand, a half Redguard half Nord mercenary who worked in Skyrim and found himself living in Cyrodiil, and the Breton, Aeyara Sivaeryl, the great great granddaughter of Maeyson Sivaeryl, The Last Dragonborn and the great great great great granddaughter of Aedyn Sivaeryl, The Hero of Kvatch. His mother is also the aunt Alexus Molotonov. Aelystair was born on a farm outside of Anvil in 4E 305. His father taught him the ways of combat and survival while his mother taught him the ways of magic and scholarly pursuits. In 4E 330, when he was 25, The Great Civil War started, and he joined The PGC. He rose through the ranks rather quickly, now being Commander of Count Cayne’s personal guard. However, when the Hordes of Namira start surfacing in Tamriel, Aelystair was one of the first to become one of Meridia’s paladins, but he had to relinquish all of his military holdings in order to lead The Purified Army, a sacrifice he was willing to make. Personality: Al is a great Battlemage, having learned combat from a Redguard and magic from a Breton. He thinks of others before himself, his main priority is the betterment of the lives of the common folk of Tamriel. Gear: (Set up like follows) Weapon 1: PGC: Steel broadsword enchanted to do fire damage. Paladin: Dawnbreaker (reforged) Weapon 2: PGC: none. Paladin: Silver shortsword enchanted to do fire damage and when fighting undead, sends a ripple of a damage undead enchantment. Offhand: PGC: Steel shield. Paladin: Mithril shield enchanted with a repel undead spell. instead of an eagle, Al's shield has an image of Meridia on the front. Armor: PGC: leather PGC Commander armor. Is covered by a black and red tunic with the PGC coat of arms on it. Paladin: Mithril armor with the enchantment “Aura” which causes the user to be surrounded by a dome of light. Items in possession: a backpack with his camping kit, enough food and water for a week in the wilderness and some potions (3 Healing, 3 Magicka, 3 Stamina, 2 Strength and 1 Fortify block) also has a satchel with his gold purse and a book or spelltome or two. He is almost always wearing his black, hooded travelling cloak, even as a Paladin. Appearance: Al inherited pale skin from his mother but he’s a little tan from living near the ocean. He has shoulder length, light brown, almost blonde hair that he wears in a ponytail and a beard that he keeps neat and trimmed. He has a scar under his left eye and a multitude of scars covering his arms and chest. He’s about 5’11 and rather muscular, but not bulky. He has the build of a fencer or a runner. His eyes are so brown that they look more orange than anything. His teeth are straight and white (there was no magic involved….) and so he prides himself on his smile, albeit silently and to himself. Special skills: (What do they exceed at? Magic, swordplay, etc.) Skill 1: Dual wielding Skill 2: Destruction and Restoration magic Skill 3: Shieldwork

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