Interesting. Characters this time around are a bit more...cutthroat, let's say. Also, remember that the psychic abilities will only develop and become apparent by the very end of the First Season.
"You can call yourself whatever you want.
Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
At our core we're all the same thing.
Monsters."
So, as I begin to ready the first post, I'll just let you all know the basics of what's happened already. In the last try of Armored Core, the team assembled for what was supposed to be a simple assault on a Madagascar paramilitary-terrorist group. Things got more complicated when it was revealed that the group (Blue Africa) had access to advanced Armored Cores and Irregulars of their own. Lance and the White Glint arrived and helped protect the Operators (stationed at sea) so that the team could take care of the enemy. The next mission was assigned: track down the other allies of the enigmatic "Thermidor", which brought the team to Venezuela and the drug kingpin Ortega.
That's where we were last time, essentially.
My question now, is how you all want to start? Do you want to have the slow-build/paced "gather the team" bit of storyline? Or do you want to jump straight in, implying that we've been a team for at least one mission and already have some sort of familiarity with one another?
I can do either one, but I figured this time I'd leave it up to you guys (so I'll tally a vote).
"You can call yourself whatever you want.
Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
At our core we're all the same thing.
Monsters."
Hm. I'm leaning towards the gathering the team storyline. I think it would better for character to have the characters more gradually meet and develop their interactions with one another, than just start in medias res as it were. That way we're more inclined to show what the characters think of each other and stuff in general, than just starting in the thick of it and getting swept along.
Credit for the banner goes to Kamotz
He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster
And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you Digimon: Broken Code
Not sure if I'm allowed to answer considering I haven't posted my SU or gotten accepted yet, but for me I'd rather go with the "build up a team" route. It's difficult to just say "oh, they know each other", if we don't actually know what they've been doing together. First impressions matter, so everyone's opinions on each other would be heavily based on exactly how they met and what they did during their first mission together. Especially for a character driven rp, I think it's important to show how we "got there" with our characters, not just say they know each other and skip possibly the most important part of any relationship; the beginning. The team spirit would be better as well if we actually saw it build up slowly, instead of assuming things like "they got along" or "so and so didn't like so and so because of things". And maybe, if you don't want us to be total strangers, our characters could have heard of each other or seen each other fight before, but not actually interacted or fought together, let alone met in person?
Then again, maybe I'm biased considering my character concept is heavily based on the whole "Nobody's seen him in person so they don't know he's a wimp" thing.
School's out, so I should be more active again. Expect me to throw a reply in all my rps soon.
Accepted Characters:
Lance Donovan (as played by Michael C. Hall or Henry Cavill)
Serra Bradley (as played by SarahCarter)
Claire Leblanc (as played by Olivia Wilde)
Kotomi Yamagishi (as played by ???)
Beatrice Victorique (as played by Rachel McAdams)
Theodore Faulkner (as played by Sam Worthington)
William Renard (as played by Taylor Kitsch)
Ezekiel Arkwright (as played by Paul Bettany)
Cynthia Young (as played by Charlize Theron)
Iskander Aziz (as played by Peter Macdissi)
"You can call yourself whatever you want.
Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
At our core we're all the same thing.
Monsters."
So now I have to start getting nudgy and annoying. I have to insist that the people who wanted to sign up do so, and the people who have signed up and been accepted already need to post.
"You can call yourself whatever you want.
Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
At our core we're all the same thing.
Monsters."
Finally done. Sorry it took this long… again. Been much busier than I’d like.
Oh and I know I didn't mean to write a Sign Up for the operator, but finishing Ben's SU I realized that I… pretty much have to, considering the fact that she’s probably going to talk to the other pilots more than he ever will. So eh.
Spoiler:- Pilot, Thanatos:
Name: Benjamin Eisler
Call-Sign: Thanatos
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Country of Birth: European Union (Austria)
Country of Residence: European Union
Designation: Pilot
Description: Those who have witnessed Thanatos’ fights often believe its pilot to be a war-hardened veteran, a man in his late forties with a heart of steel and the eyes of a killer. Most of the numerous rumors spread around about him state something similar, and there is no reason for anyone to think otherwise. But in the end those are mere rumors, all started and spread by Benjamin’s operator and guardian to ensure nobody would catch wind of the truth.
The truth that, in reality, Thanatos is nobody who’d catch your eye should you pass him by on the streets. He stands fairly short at only 5’8.5’’ and from his posture to his clothes, he strives not to stand out. Not because of any cunning reason like wanting to keep low profile so he could surprise his foes, but simply because he’s afraid of human contact. Benjamin only has a small amount of visible muscle and he tends to walk with his shoulders slightly hunched and his head held low, eyes always peering carefully at passersby. He looks meek, the kind that could crumble from a single touch or get a heart attack from the very first prank you pull on him, definitely not an image befitting the pilot of death.
He has short hair with slightly longer bangs framing his face, always kept neat and silky so as to not give off a bad impression. His hair color is a bland black, matching most of his getup quite well; black happens to be all he wears, pretty much. Not because he’d like to, but because it helps him blend in. He wouldn’t dare use his favorite color, yellow, in any part of his clothing. He has a round, boyish face, smooth skin and large, timid eyes, often making people think of him as even younger than he really is. His eyes are very dark brown, almost black, offering absolutely no diversion from his usual color scheme.
When it comes to clothing, Benjamin, like mentioned, usually uses dark colors, preferably black if at all possible. He usually wears a dark blue turtleneck, the collar portion always raised to cover his chin from view, though he’ll switch to a t-shirt if the feather warrants it. He wears dark brown cargo pants and black sneakers, and sometimes you can find a dark blue flight jacket or vest over his turtleneck.
All that however, is only when he’s alone, or surrounded by people who don’t know he’s a pilot. Whenever about to enter work or when dealing with other pilots, he often hides his face under a hood or behind a mask. He also often forces himself to stand straight and look more professional then. He isn’t used to hiding his identity like that however, as he often doesn’t meet the pilots he flies with in person, his operator doing all the talking instead.
Personality: Kind, insecure and hating conflict, Benjamin really doesn’t sound like an ideal pilot for a death machine. He’s friendly and usually tries to offer a hand whenever possible, always fearing that if he doesn’t do his utmost to help people they’ll grow to hate him. He hates loud noises and can’t stand watching people argue or fight, though he usually doesn’t have the courage to do anything but watch from the sidelines should conflict occur. And that’s pretty much all he ever does when he’s not piloting; he watches. Just stands away from the centre of whatever crowd he finds himself in and observes. Thinks. Wonders what drives each and every people, what they dream of and what they fear. He likes people, and he likes company, he just doesn’t like to raise his voice to talk to said people out of fear he’ll do something stupid or disgraceful. He doesn’t want to get in anyone’s way either, hence he often keeps all his comments to himself. He’s pretty easily excitable but keeps that hidden, smiles coming scarcely from him, and you’d be hard pressed to hear him laugh unless alone or in the company of someone he knows won’t mind some childish behavior every now and then.
So how can a pathetic kid like him kill people on a daily basis without breaking down? Well, you see, as hard as it might to be believe, Benjamin has his pride. He has always had the wish to be useful to his father, and to find something he was good at. He would have done anything, sacrificed anything he had to find just one thing in which he could best everyone else. And then one day, he did. And that something just happened to be killing people inside a huge mecha. He was just a kid back when he had his first kill, and back then he didn’t truly comprehend what it meant to shoot down an enemy AC. He felt so much joy over finally excelling in something that he didn’t even stop to think of the consequences of his actions. Young and intoxicated by success, he didn’t really understand he was killing people, and he still doesn’t to this very day.
Well, at least that’s what he keeps telling himself.
The truth is that he’s always known exactly what happens when Obsidian shoots down an enemy, known exactly what becomes of the person inside. But his mind would have never been able to bear the weight of killing someone, so he has systematically denied knowing better. He has subconsciously made himself think of the battlefield as just a very large playfield, the enemy ACs just machines to be shot down for point scoring. There are no humans involved. It’s just machines fighting each other. He can’t see any humans, after all. And it’s not like he’s the one who even shoots the enemy down; it’s his mecha. He’s detached from the destruction he causes. He’s innocent. He doesn’t kill. Such are the thoughts that keep him sane. But at the same time, they have left him mentally somewhat childlike, a lot more immature than his peers, because growing up would mean understanding, and understanding would mean accepting he’s responsible for the deaths of thousands. His mind is a mess, all the result of being pushed into a war he was way too young to fight.
He fears other AC pilots most of the time, not wanting to talk to them out of fear they might not accept him within their midst due to his age and demeanor. Most pilots he has seen have been, after all, mostly stoic individuals, and he absolutely hates being glared at. Still, sometimes he tries to walk up to people and gain the courage to speak, especially if the topic at hand concerns battles. He’d never let his cowardice ruin his battle performance, after all.
History: Born as the son of one of the executives of Interior Union, there was a lot of pressure on Benjamin from the start. His father was a serious, successful man of impeccable posture, and he expected nothing less from his son. As such, Benjamin was home schooled from a very early age, and ever since he knew how to walk his father tried to find something he’d be the best at. Doing one’s best was never enough for him, as he believed that if you could not reach the top in whatever career or talent you pursued, you weren’t worth a thing. He wasn’t a cruel man by any means, but he had a certain way to look at life and he refused to change it. It did not pay to be soft, especially with so many lusting after his high ranking position in the corporation. A single mistake could lead to him losing everything and he could not afford that. No, he’d show how incredible a son he had and keep himself in the position of power for as long as humanly possible.
Benjamin’s mother died when he was still a very small kid. It wasn’t devastating to him since he never really knew her, but it meant more time spent with tutors and teachers. As years rolled past however, it started to be very clear that Benjamin didn’t really… excel in anything. He wasn’t particularly talented in music, even simple calculations were too difficult for him to understand most of the time, and his physique never allowed him to become an athlete. He was always average or below in everything he did, no matter how hard he tried. His father couldn’t accept that. He loved his son, but his rank was important and he absolutely loathed hearing the comments he did from some of his coworkers. Their sons were all good, all incredible, all geniuses who would inherit them. Benjamin? He was that small boy freckled boy struggling to read a children’s book.
At the time, Interior Union was developing a new type of laser weapon, as well as making some modifications to their next patch of ACs for test purposes. It was all top secret, and since everything was still in the development and testing stages, they absolutely did not want any other company to catch wind of what they were doing or steal their ideas. It also cost them a lot of money, so they didn’t have a lot to spare. Case in point, they were paranoid, had a low budget and needed someone to test out their new prototype. Someone who would absolutely not talk about what he saw to anyone nor require payment for stepping inside a prototype that could potentially kill them should things go wrong.
Benjamin’s father saw this as a chance, both for him to come up with a solution and save money, and for his son to finally show he was good for something. It was risky, but this was not the time to be sentimental. So he stepped up and signed Benjamin up for the job. The other branches were never informed who the tester was, and definitely not informed it was an eight year old boy.
Benjamin didn’t have to fight a real battle in the AC, not at all; all he needed to do was to step in the AC, try to fly up a little and do some test shooting at inanimate targets.
Turned out that even back then, he had an extremely high AMS compatibility, comparable to the company’s regular pilots. His aim was a little off and his flight a little bumpy, but it was clear that he had never-seen-before potential. He was a genius.
He was told as much when he exited the mecha, all worn out. Immediately his face started to shine. He had been praised this much just from so little? Even his father was smiling. He was being proud. Finally. Finally there was something he was good at!
The trouble was his age. He would need to be trained and honed if he ever wanted to face an enemy in real combat, but subjecting an eight year old to pilot training would definitely be frowned upon. Or so Benjamin’s father thought. Turned out the incident had made the other executives see the potential this all held. By using smaller children, they could find the ones with potential far sooner than anyone else, raise them to be loyal pilots to them and save money, all at once!
So the corporation, together with the Collared, formed a small faction dedicated to raising kid soldiers. It didn’t last for all that many years however; by the time Benjamin was fourteen, that was, five years after its initiation, the faction was shut down. Turned out kids just couldn’t handle the kind of pressure they were put under. All sorts of mental and physical problems had started to arise, and more and more had quit after only a few years of training. The kids who left either needed to be bribed or silenced so they wouldn’t speak of what they saw, or forced to stay and risk them dying. It was increasingly more difficult to continue operation without being found out, and raising someone for a few years only for them not to grow useful ate money. They couldn’t afford that. So, as if nothing had ever happened, all records were destroyed. Benjamin’s age was altered as he entered regular pilot training at the age of fourteen. Even among the adult pilots, Benjamin was remarkable. Granted, he had had training before, but he had never entered actual combat. The risk of the mecha being shot down and the dead body of a kid being found inside had been too high.
As such, the first actual mission Benjamin took part in was when he was fifteen. His operator was a woman very loyal to his father, one who had taken care of him very often when he was a kid. A maid-turned-operator, she was constantly calming down the slightly panicking teen. Benjamin wasn’t alone on the mission as far as the combat front went either, being supported by other units as well. For a while he foolishly thought that maybe he wouldn’t need to kill. But the enemy was numerous, and it was just a matter of time when one closed in on him. There it was. His target. His enemy. Another human being. His hands started to sweat and his heart race. He was frozen in place. He didn’t want this anymore. He wanted out. Away. He didn’t belong here.
And then he remembered his father’s proud smile, and before he had realized it, he had pulled the trigger.
He braced himself for a scream; an ear piercing cry of pain and the sight of blood, but there was nothing. The machine blew up and that was it. It was hardly different from the target practice he had done for years. He felt proud like always when he hit the mark.
So then, why was he crying uncontrollably?
Benjamin has worked as a pilot for two years now, gaining experience left and right. He has earned himself a reputation, and considering nobody has ever seen his face, there are quite a few rumors spread around about him. With his identity and everything else so shrouded in mystery, hiding his real age isn’t all that difficult a task. Of course, there might one or two pilots out there who have seen a glimpse of what he’s really like but really, who would you rather believe to handle that death machine that you just witnessed kill hundreds? A mysterious veteran with battle scars and probably only one eye left from all the battles he has lived through, or a meek kid jumping on top of a chair when he sees a rat run by?
Yeah, exactly.
Psychic Power: His power is a bit difficult to explain. Often referred to as “Prediction”, it’s said he can see in the future. Well, that’s the glorified version, at least. In truth all he can do is read people’s – and especially ACs’ and other machines’ – movements well enough to be able to predict what they’ll do or where they’ll move next. He can’t predict further than their next move however, and the power isn’t instantaneous; he has to watch the opponent for a while and learn their moving patterns, the logic behind each and every move and then form a conclusion from all that information. But once he reaches that conclusion, his information is definite.
Other: As is probably clear by now, Benjamin has absolutely no fighting ability without his AC. Small in frame and timid in nature, he can’t – nor does even he want to – fend off for himself without a layer of metal between him and his enemy. He struggles to read and write, and isn’t familiar with most common electric appliances and the sort (once he destroyed a TV with his AC, being sure that if he hadn’t done so the dinosaur inside the TV would have come out and eaten him.) What he loses in everything else however, he gains back in sheer ability when it comes to piloting, and you don’t have to watch his fights for long to realize exactly why he’s called a genius. He turns eighteen this year, but for now he has a fake ID that claims he's been an adult for a few years by now.
- Armored Core -
Armored Core Name: Obsidian
Weight Designation: Medium
Leg Type: Bipedal. I... guess.
Combat Specialization: Close/Medium Range with specialization in Melee Combat, Speed, Counter Damage, Unpredictability and Surprise Attacks
Weapon Layout: Due to Benjamin’s ties with the Interior Union, he specializes in laser technology and is always provided with the latest and greatest, though he also has other weapons just so his moves would be difficult to predict. Indeed, Obsidian’s specialty being unpredictability it changes weapons quite often, but right now it’s configured as follows:
R-Back: “F-U” Seeking-Missiles, not very long range
Shoulders: High-speed Boosters “Mach 6000”
L Hangar: Extra Booster “Blast Off 5000”
R Hangar: “Last Rexort X” A small explosive, meant to inflict damage, raise smoke to obscure view and jam radars. Meant to be used in case of emergency and need for getaway. Never used before .
Further Description: When looking at Obsidian, it’s immediately clear as to where it got its name; it’s completely black in color, and is laced with sharp edges capable of hurting whatever it comes in contact with. It has a triangle-shaped face with horns protruding from each side. There are also spikes protruding out of Obsidian’s frame, capable of mildly damaging whatever enemy is brave enough to get too close. That’s one of Obsidian’s fortes; countering physical damage by injuring the attacker with its sharp edges.
Obsidian can perform from Mid Range as well however, carrying various middle range weapons for that purpose. It cannot function properly from very far, though whatever distance might separate it and its target is often quickly closed on very effectively. Obsidian is also a master of surprise attacks and extremely quick death blows; on one minute it might be standing or floating a distance from you, the next it moves in a direction you would’ve never predicted and fires from your blind spot or impales you from behind. Its color helps it especially during nighttime. It actually doesn’t have any radar jamming capabilities however (well, apart from the last resort bomb), as it’s most likely that by the time you fire off towards the target in your radar, its already switched positions to somewhere completely different and you miss the shot anyway.
Obsidian’s set up is also changed very often, making sure that nobody knows what to expect of it even if they have seen it fight earlier. One of Benjamin’s trademark ways of killing enemies, however, is to use a wire to electrocute them and then finish them off when paralyzed. This works by him attaching one enemy with a hook, then flying around the target(s) and wrapping them up in the wire. Then, using a small generator inside Obsidian's frame, he sends an electric shock along the wire, electrocuting and dazzling the enemies in contact with it. The electric shock makes the hook contract and let go, allowing Benjamin to reel it back as he goes to finish off his dazzled prey with a sword or a gun.
Spoiler:- Operator, Celeste:
Name: Juliana Werberg
Call-Sign: Celeste
Gender: Female
Age: 30
Country of Birth: European Union (Austria)
Country of Residence: European Union
Designation: Operator
Description: Juliana almost reaches Benjamin in height, standing at 5’7.7’’. She is a rather curvy woman, though not to ridiculous extremes, and has a love for slight makeup. Her hair is semi-long, reaching just past her shoulders. Her hair color is a warm brown, and her hairstyle is never the same two days in a row, as she likes to experiment. Whenever at work though, she often has it tied in some way, most often up in a ponytail simply because that’s the easiest way for hair that length. Her eyes and her favorite color are the source of her codename; her eyes are a very light, bright clue color, and whenever possible she likes to wear something blue somewhere.
Her usual outfit often changes almost as constantly as her hair, but she usually has on a blue top and a bolero, leaving most of her abdomen exposed. Not one to wear skirts or dresses, she can often be found in brown Capri pants and ballerinas.
Personality: When aiding a pilot in flight she is a serious, dutiful woman, always thinking about the mission. She loves to win, and can sometimes push the people she aids a bit too hard. Many think she does this because the battlefield would just be a game for her, but that’s not true at all. While yes, she can sometimes sound like she’d be obsessed with winning the fight more than anything, it’s mostly because victory means survival and she doesn’t want the pilot to die. However, you should note the “mostly” there.
Outside of combat she’s a very cheerful woman, often talking in excess about everything possible whenever given the chance, though not to the extent that she’d look childish. She knows when to hold her tongue, and who not to bother with idle gossip. She’s also one to follow orders to a t, most likely because of her background as a former maid. She is very curious about the world and people, and tends to act motherly at times, offering her advice when she sees it’s necessary.
Still, above all else she tries to act professional enough not to bring shame to her master’s name. She feels caged by that sometimes, not allowed to drink, flirt or anything else she thinks she would enjoy. She tries to hide her lust for freedom the best she can however, always showing a smiling face. Yet at the same time she tries to keep her distance from everyone around her, the smile a protecting banner between her and everyone else. She doesn’t want to get attached, as she fears the consequences and bringing trouble to her master.
History: Juliana’s mother had been orphan the Eisler family saved many years ago, and ever since she had worked as a servant to the household. As such, when Juliana was born, she was taught to do the same. Working as a maid, a mechanic and just an all around helped in the house, she never saw much of the world outside the city. She was allowed to go out on her freetime, of course, but she just didn’t have enough freetime to wander as far as she had wanted, so she always stayed within the city’s limits even when an adult. Her mother was sick and cared for by the Eislers, so she would have felt really bad just up and leaving on a vacation when her help was obviously needed. She was one of the people who tried to help young Benjamin in his studies, and always one to try and cheer him up in the stead of his mother.
As such, when she heard that Benjamin was to become a pilot, she got very worried. Starting to study just to be qualified as an operator, she worked hard to both be able to help the kid she felt was like a younger brother to her and to get to see the world. She eventually succeeded in that and became Benjamin’s aide, always helping him when she could. There was a flipside to her job however; in addition to looking after the kid, she was to report absolutely everything she saw back to his father. Oftentimes she did just as she was told, but there were a few failures she opted not to talk of. Even today she works as Benjamin’s operator and a guardian, spreading rumors and making sure his real identity isn’t revealed to the world.
Other: N/A
Hopefully the History and AC description worked out; I admit to having had trouble especially with the latter. I’ve never had to describe or arm a mecha before, heh. I also admit to rushing a lot on Celeste’s Sign Up in order to get this done today, so if anything needs to be expanded upon, just tell me.
Last edited by GoldenHouou; 11th August 2012 at 4:56 PM.
School's out, so I should be more active again. Expect me to throw a reply in all my rps soon.
Description: Davis is, for all intents and purposes, the type of guy most would call, well, hot, which is something he is quite glad about. Though not exactly tall (frankly on the verge of being called short at 1.76 meters, or approximately 5”7’) his certainly impressive musculature more than makes up for any issue his lack of vertical size may create. While not a bodybuilder, he could certainly be described as buff, as his toned muscles contrast with his height and have a tendency to always overstretch whatever clothes Davis is wearing, which is made even worse by the fact he usually likes to wear tight, formfitting leather shirts (precisely to show off his assets.)
His face is short and oval, and his skin rather smooth - being years since puberty took its devastating toll - and also the result of everyday shaving with an expensive brand of after shave. His medium-length, raven-colour hair goes well with his wide, light blue eyes, and is kept trimmed just above the eyebrows to avoid any possible obstructions to his vision, while otherwise allowed to grow until it reaches midway through the back of his neck. Like most British, his skin is rather pale; even with his missions taking him all around the globe he spends most of his time aboard inside his AC’s core, neatly shielded from any harmful solar radiation and, likewise, from a healthy tan.
Like stated previously, Davis enjoys wearing tight, form fitting leather shirts, particularly ones with the sleeve ending in a tight press halfway through his biceps (a detail he generally can’t go without) coupled with regular jeans and practical sneakers. He likes basic, metallic colours on his clothes, particularly black, platinum, chrome-grey and the triad of yellow, red and blue. He is rather resistant to the cold, being able to casually endure temperatures that would drive most people to use at least two layers of clothing with nothing but a casual shirt on. If he does resort to wearing a jacket, though, he prefers a windbreaker.
Davis’ choice in flightsuit tries to portray him as a mirror image of his AC: While the padded regions are pure grey, most of the suit is the same shade of chrome black as his robot. The few buttons and buckles his suit has are surrounded by a geometrically perfect orange line. His suit has a high collar, something he thought was deviously ironic, and bears an horizontal orange line dashing around the middle of it, separating two sections of grey.
Personality: Inquisitive, curious and driven. Friendly, easy to get along with, but hard to get attached to. These are all traits easily identifiable in Davis the first time you meet him. If you share any one thing in common, it is probably easy to strike up a conversation with the man, but it is oddly apparent for anyone looking for anything other than a casual hang out buddy that personal attachment isn’t something on his agenda. He is the type of man to have many friends and acquaintances but to never keep track of who he truly knows. People come and go in his line of work, and Davis has learnt not to develop strong feelings of friendship or kinship to any partners or friends he happens to make. The thought that his death could come at any moment, unannounced, also worries him and further contributes to his desire to distance himself from most people, family included.
Davis also dislikes personal conflict, most likely a result of both the social awkwardness years of dedication to tech and research caused and his nature to spend few moments with people, but make them fun and desirable. After all, if these people are going to leave someday, what else can he do but build good memories and spend a great time while he can?
In battle, Davis is much more practical and analytical. He takes on a scientific approach to things since, for all intents and purposes, that is why he is there. He pilots an AC for the thrill of it, yes, but also to test his own personal customizations and eventually print out research papers based on the information he gathers. The money he makes is just enough to live comfortably for him: after paying repairs, maintenance and ammo, and saving up for an expensive part or weapon he wishes to buy in the future, he gets more than enough to pay for the equipment he needs for his own, personal works and for the slight, non-work related fun things in life: things such as cars, bikes and other tech.
Davis’ own morals are a dangerous unresolved issue which some Collared psychologists have gone as far as to call a “ticking time bomb.” Buried under a positive attitude and a scientific outlook on bloodshed, their pull is rarely felt. But sometimes, on darker nights, nightmares remind Davis of just who he is... And he hates it. He wishes to pilot, and the havoc he can cause is so satisfying, to be sure, but his subconscious makes it so that, every time he pulls that trigger, the bullet hits somewhere precise – not to kill an enemy, but to shut down the mech. Dead on attacks on the core are a rarity and a last resort. However, missile bombardment is part of the Jupiter’s main attack strategy. And when those missiles crash, they don’t discriminate; their power cannot be directed to safeguard the core while immobilizing everything else. Yet this does not bother him.
Is it the distance, the huge scale of the attack, and how surreal it all is, that keeps him from realizing his deeds? Or is Davis simply getting used to death, and becoming unbothered by it?
History: Even during his younger years, Davis’ driving curiosity and compelling ambition made him stood apart from the rest. Before his teenage years, he had already learned to disassemble pretty much every gadget in his house and learnt the rudimentary workings of it. At the age of twelve, he was already a skilled programmer and had successfully restored his dad’s vintage car to working condition (without the aid of a trained mechanic; the process involving a complete replacement of both the engine, the hydraulic suspension and the car’s built in CPU.)
His interest in both the field of digital electronics and mechanical engineering didn’t take time to coalesce in what was the ultimate creation of both: the Armoured Cores. These hulking titans, testament to man’s technological power, eventually became the centrepiece of Davis’ fascination. They were the reason he enrolled in a military academy for college; the way he saw it, he could deepen his tech knowledge through military college courses while simultaneously training himself as a soldier and, if he was lucky, a future AC pilot.
You see, the next best thing to building something for yourself was, of course, using it. Davis’ found that out with his dad’s vintage car, and with every subsequent amateur invention he came up with. Davis’ ambition and curiosity led him to quickly climb up the academic and military ladder; at the age of 24, he had already finished two college degrees and had become an aide in the development and test piloting of new AC prototypes. Even before being considered a “real” AC pilot, he’d already obtained years of experience inside the cockpit of prototype ACs and been an important contributor to several advances in digital programming. In fact, he was part of one of the several teams that collectively brought about the fourth generation of Armoured Cores.
When the New Geneva Convention changed the military make up of the modern world, Davis’ life changed with it. Though it would certainly make him more than happy, he would still not be truly content with merely researching the science behind the mech’s, especially not after having a taste of real combat inside them. He enlisted in Collared as soon as he was given the opportunity.
Now, Davis divides his time between his life as a pilot and his life as a scientist, using his practical knowledge and combat experience as further qualifications when he releases the results of his studies or registers a new patent. His still strong need to continuously tinker has culminated in him forsaking the need for private accommodations and take up permanent residence in the same collared compound his Jupiter is most usually kept, simply to facilitate access to his machine.
Psychic Power: Davis’ prowess and experience regarding computer circuits, programming and mechanic knowledge developed alongside his AMS capabilities seemed to result in the manifestation of an analytical power capable of organizing any type of information (from academic and environmental to emotional and sensorial) into a type of circuit which he can understand and decode with great ease, like a puzzle. At first, this merely manifested in a prodigal ability to memorize, understand and work with computer programming and mechanical plans, but eventually evolved into something else. Like a huge game of chess, he can, for example, organize the entire battlefield as a giant board on his mind where he can calculate probabilities, possible reactions and best courses of action with a higher level of detail than the best chest players in the world.
This doesn’t simply end in the battlefield. During social events, he sees the human body as a mechanical blueprint and entire conversations as lines and acts; all part of a social script. Through body language interpretation and speech analyses, he can peer into the minds of whoever he analyzes, destroying the social mask we all use to conceal our true motives and reach the truth. He would be far more effective at this, however, if years spent dedicating himself to metal and data hadn’t made him develop an unorthodox thinking process and thus distance himself from the way a normal person thinks.
Other: Placeholder.
Armored Core Name: The Jupiter
Weight Designation: Heavy
Leg Type: Byped
Combat Specialization: Range, Bombardment, Heavy Assault
Weapon Layout:
R Arm: Heavy Armor Piercing Railgun capable of two configurations: long and short range. At long range, the weapon morphs, adjusting its plates so the barrel becomes longer, generating more acceleration and resulting in a shot with higher penetrating power but slower rates of fire. At short range, the machine adjusts its parts to shorten its length to almost half to provide a slightly higher rate of fire at the cost of bullet penetration and range. L Arm: Grenade Launcher R Back: Vertical Missiles L Back: Vertical Missiles Shoulders: Anti Missile Laser Defence system consisting of small retractable turrets linked in to the main sensor system. They automatically lock on to any fast approaching object the IFF classifies as a red and shoot it down. While scanning, however, they stay protected inside the shoulder’s heavy plating. Hangar: The huge legs of the Jupiter should provide lots of room for weaponry and ammo of all kinds, but Davis has opted on reinforcing them as most he could. Since the legs are now basically walking shields, their load weight is less than one would expect. Davis only carries enough room to store additional Railgun and Grenade Launcher ammo.
Further Description: The Jupiter is designed to embody size and power, and it shows. Its height alone sets it apart from most ACs, even for a heavy: a modest sized standing Medium AC would barely reach halfway through his torso. The mech is completely covered in black chrome-textured armour built over the regular plating as an extra layer of shields. Overall, the AC can be compared to a rectangular armour-plated wall.
Its legs are the most telling aspect of this. They are responsible for about 70% of the AC’s vertical size, and each leg is as wide as some Normals. All of this armour came as a necessity as, due to the Jupiter’s most common combat mode involving long range bombardment, it is usually only targeted by long range missiles and snipers itself. The excessive amount of armour neutralizes the added dangers of that, though it has the ironic effect of making small, fast ACs being the best counter for him, as they can move fast enough to avoid his missiles and close the distance and take advantage of the small gaps between armour plates to fire a lucky shot or stink an energy blade in.
The Core itself is more compact than the rest of the AC and also the most angular. It is pyramid shaped, with five sides coming together to form a spiky protrusion a few degrees above the geometric middle of the torso. Davis has found that this angular option has the benefit of aiding bullets ricochet while not distributing as much of an impact as they would against a solid vertical Core plate while simultaneously having better heat dispersion, thus being sturdier against energy weapons as well.
The head of the AC is protected by an oval helmet that reaches a bit wider than the head itself. Its eyes sensors are cross shaped, composed of one vertical red gash running along the centre of the face and an (also red) vertical cut across the top portion of the first gash. The face itself is grey.
The Jupiter’s arms almost appear thin in an AC of that size, but as individual parts they are still quite impressive. They need to be, after all, to be able to easily operate with all the heavy weapons the Jupiter is meant to use even with the added weight of the extra layer of armour. To facilitate dexterity, only the outer sides of the arms bear the extra protection the rest of the AC proudly wears. The black robot arms are by no means fragile, though, and are often used to finish off injured enemies that roam close enough for melee (however, this is by far not their primary usage, even if this occasional tactic rarely result in extensive damage to the arms. Due to the Jupiter’s weight, though, a punch to a hard or shielded part of an enemies’ armour could end up crushing the arm between the combined weights of the enemy AC’s with the Jupiter’s.)
I've had Davis ready for a week, I just wanted to post him together with my new character. Here she is:
---------------
Name: Mariette Colette
Call-Sign: Seer
Gender: Female
Age: 38
Country of Birth: France, EU
Country of Residence: France, EU
Designation: Operator
Description: Colette is a woman unbothered by her physical aspect; as long as she looks presentable, she is fine. Her dirty blond hair is kept short, hanging barely below her jaw line, for it takes much less maintenance to make it look good if it’s that short. Her nose is small, but has a somewhat long bridge, and her eyes are equally small and brown coloured. Her mouth is not very wide, but her lips are full and red; they are what the common person would call “very kissable”.
Not being an AC pilot, Colette does not feel any need whatsoever to be in shape. Though far from fat, her narrow figure sometimes struggles to hide small residues of fat around her hips and legs. It is for this reason she tends to avoid revealing clothing. She prefers jeans and a simple shirt or blouse over a top and a skirt, even if she could pull it off better than quite a lot of people. She is also fond of wearing a white scientists coat while working; she sees it as fitting, and the long coat only further hides any imperfections she may have.
Personality: Mariette, perhaps due to her training as a psychologist as well as in sociology, has the bad habit of analyzing every aspect of the people she is with. This is pretty much why she was trained as an Operator, as she could spy on her fellow pilots and operators and report any suspicious behaviour to her bosses.
Socially, she is nice, kind and tends to hide her prying behind soft, honeyed words. She wants to come off as reliable and trustworthy, because, even if she is spying on her fellows, she still sees herself as that to her friends.
Anger and hot-headedness are not things Mariette has ever been affected by. Despite her warm voice and caring attitude, she is incredibly cold. In matters of military, for example, she is known to advise long terms plans that effectively end up manipulating entire tribes, gangs or countries to facilitate military missions and even invasions to the benefit of Collared.
She is also somewhat bossy, in that she likes to be in control. Unlike most, this does not mean she expects to be put on a throne and have her orders be carried out, but rather she prefers to spin a web and, over time, catch everyone in it, where they are manipulated often without realizing it. She relates to Collared in this sense: they are the de facto leading power right now, even if they are a sleeping giant. Compared with the superpowers and great corporations, some might not see it. But now that the UN is as good as defunct, Collared has effectively centralized control of the world’s most powerful military tools, the only people capable of piloting them (and their contacts) effectively holding enough power to say global economics and politics (the way she sees it).
History: Colette began her career as a simple sociologist. Like many of her peers, the radical changes the war and, later, the New Geneva Convention would bring to mankind were an issue of much worry. The mass exodus from eastern Europe to central and western Europe, in particular, as it not only presented the biggest danger, but it affected her personally, being born and raised in France.
As her studies of the topic progressed, Mariette’s scientific articles, at first a scientific analysis of the current social trend, its dangers and her predictions of future social crisis, eventually began to talk more and more about the global war. The more she looked into it, the more she saw how it seemed to be the root of all evil, even for problems seemingly unrelated to it. She later saw herself more engrossed with the problematic of war than with her initial worries as a sociologist. Thus grew her need to learn about war in general while simultaneously staying true to her academic path.
Colette ended up graduating in Psychology and later getting a master’s in War Psychology (not Psychological Warfare.) She printed out articles relating to the way individuals act during war, be they generals, politicians or even AC pilots and ended up putting herself on Collared’s radar.
She was first contacted by Collared when the organization began to sponsor her studies under a shell company. For years they calmly steered her field of study from the social effects of war on determinate danger zones, to speculation of the effects an invasion of a hotspot would have locally and globally, to finally having her be comfortable running military speculation using her sociological knowledge to plan which zones to invade and in what order, and even what type of general, tactician and pilot would suit their mission. This was all done carefully and through a prolonged period of times, with the subtlety only Collared’s intelligence bureau could perform. “An academic report on the frailty of the Ethiopian warlord’s balance of power” became a guide on how to attack such warlords with as little military, political and social (read: reputation) drawbacks as possible.
When Collared finally contacted Colette using its own name, the scientists had been indoctrinated with an acceptance of war. She enrolled as an advisor, but her job didn’t end there. She received training so she could become an Operator and be on the field during Collared’s most notorious missions, where she could work more closely and perform damage-control and report her findings first hand to the higher ups. Furthermore, her psychologist background meant she could act as a spy and report on the status of the most unstable or danger-prone pilots from the inside. Collared benefited immensely from this arrangement, for, as luck would have it, some of its best pilots (and thus the ones most likely to end up drafted on high profile missions) also had the bad habit of being dangerously unstable one way or the other. With Colette on the team, Collared had one dog guarding two farms.
Other: Colette is no pilot, and as such did not develop Psychic Abilities. However, she is a trained psychologist and has made a living out of studying the inner psyche of pilots and people alike. She is prone to take an interest in the pilot’s personal business, something quite a few pilots have learnt to dislike. Someone’s motivation, life story and personality are always things of interest to her, and she will most certainly try to explore the minds of her more interesting “case subjects,” even if simply subtly.
Last edited by niedude; 11th August 2012 at 10:37 AM.
@ Golden: Most of the signup is fine. There are just a few details that I need...dealt with. So until then, Benjamin is pending. But Juliana is accepted
1. The first is the name "Thanatos". We already have Reaper as a pilot and Silent Reaper as a mech. I just think there needs to be a bit more variance. If you absolutely need it, I can accept it, but...
2. Second is the weaponry. The first issue I have is with the Laser Wire. That sort of power-output is more than we can sustain. Even laser blades (seen here), only flicker briefly. A laser wire, capable of slicing through ACs would take an absurd amount of power. Which we don't have access to. The second issue I have is with the spikes. It's the same issue, and also a bit of an unfair addition.
____________
@ niedude: Davis is still pending, just because of the Shoulder and Hangar weapons. Shoulder weapons are the same on both sides, and hangar weapons are small, backup weapons (like a pistol or a laser blade, or a small laser pistol - not a medium sized machine gun). Regardless of the Jupiter's weight, unless it's using tank-type legs, it can't equip full-sized weapons in the hangar. But Mariette is accepted.
"You can call yourself whatever you want.
Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
At our core we're all the same thing.
Monsters."
1. Well, I personally don't see Thanatos being too close to Reaper or Silent Reaper, but if it really bothers you I guess I could go with something else. The trouble is that it would still need to be a similar name carrying a similar vibe, since he would have most likely been given an "intimidating" name to hide the fact that he's, well... not all that intimidating in person, and to back up the rumors. If you have a name that could sound similarly ominous but would be far away from Reaper in meaning, I can go with that, though.
2. Ah, I figured I'd need to change things about the AC. No problem, and sorry for the laser confusion. But so, would the wire be alright if it was just ordinary wire and only flashed with laser temporarily, and only once per attack? As in, he'd wrap it around the target, it'd flicker and cause cuts, and he'd need to reel it back for recharging of sorts if he wanted to use the laser properties again? That would keep the idea while making it significantly weaker and less power consuming. I kind of like the whole wire thing, heh. But if you want, I can get rid of it completely too. As for the spikes, would they be alright without any laser properties whatsoever, so that the AC could keep the whole counter damage idea, (though to a lesser extent since they'd just be steel spikes then) without being too powerful or unfair?
School's out, so I should be more active again. Expect me to throw a reply in all my rps soon.
1. Okay. I'm not that "happy" with Reaper either, so I'll come up with something else.
2. Well...it wouldn't be laser then. Since laser is super-heated energy and not a solid weapon. Maybe...super-heated? But that's not a very practical weapon either...But if you're insistent, you should take into account the difference in weapon projectile types (solid/energy). As for the spikes, it's the same thing. They'd have to be stored internally, which would muck with the ACs internal workings and mechanisms because it would take up too much space.
"You can call yourself whatever you want.
Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
At our core we're all the same thing.
Monsters."
1. If you're sure. I mean, you had the name first, so if someone has to change it should be me. But if you aren't content with Reaper, then yeah...
2. Hmm, you're right. I wonder if electricity could be used instead? You know, have electricity course through the wire in bursts, which would slow the opponent down enough to allow him a solid hit in, and possibly cause some minor dysfunction/damage, with the same weakness of needing to reel it back and wait for recharge. Though then the problem'd be where the electricity came from... Maybe AC itself could generate it... Hm.
Good point on the spikes as well, though I didn't imagine them to be as long as you might have (they wouldn't be long enough to be too deep inside the AC). Then again, on second thought, small spikes aren't probably all that useful against other ACs in the first place... Eh, maybe I'll just make him have some mid-sized spikes here and there, but out at all times instead of being hidden. Not as useful and probably partly there simply for aesthetic reasons (to make the machine look sharp), but probably still able to cause some minor scratches in close-range battles. That alright? If not, I'll just ditch them completely. They aren't that important.
School's out, so I should be more active again. Expect me to throw a reply in all my rps soon.
Okay then, Niedude's Davis is accepted. Haven't heard anything from Requiem or Billy Mays since they signed up, so I might consider them dropped if I hear nothing and they don't post soon. Too bad.
EDIT: Both of GouldenHouou's characters are accepted.
"You can call yourself whatever you want.
Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
At our core we're all the same thing.
Monsters."
I will be posting a discussion thread as soon as I get a chance. Until then, announcements will be here.
Still waiting on GoldenHouou, BillyM, Requiem, and Sequel to post...which is a lot. You don't really need a long post. Mine was long because it was. I'm not requiring or even asking for really long posts. It's kinda what killed this last time.
"You can call yourself whatever you want.
Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
At our core we're all the same thing.
Monsters."
I don't mean it like that. You said that's why, but I do check in here now since I've had more time than before and wanted to sign up again. I don't mean any offense, honest.
Once I get a discussion thread up, all the basic info will go there. But until then, this is a good model on how the ACs move. Except our ACs are about half that size. Still, it's the same basic principle.
"You can call yourself whatever you want.
Soldier. Leader. Patriot. Revolutionary. It doesn't matter.
At our core we're all the same thing.
Monsters."
I made some changes this time and looked through it thoroughly...you know, if this is still going on...and I am working on a Pilot (should probably stop but is halfway done so yeah ^^; )
Spoiler:- Spoiler:
Name: Darius Shaw
Call-Sign: Croc
Gender: male
Age: 35
Country of Birth: South America (Jamaica)
Country of Residence: North American Alliance
Designation: Operator
Description:
Darius is a very imposing man, but at first look people would mistake him for a member of a drug cartel back from his birth country. He stands at 6 ft. 3 in. with a calm demeanor etching his Rastafarian looks, but his dark brown eyes hold the goofy personality he likes to show to his close friends. He keeps his hair in long dreads that fall a little below his waist, but it is neatly kept in a ponytail when he is working, and he has a well kept beard to complete his look. Even though he is an operator he carries his own batch of scars from his past: A tear-shaped scar under his left eye, several deep gashes on his back, and three bullet scars located in his right shoulder, chest and left lower leg. Along with the scars he has a tattoo of his country flag in his right shoulder, crocodile teeth on his left shoulder and the name Hollie tattooed on his wrist (all the scars and tattoos will be explained in the history).
When he is not working Darius has casual attire, but still keeps it neat and flow. He likes wearing not too baggy shirts and cargo pants that consist of rich earthy colors when he likes to be alone and contemplate on something that’s been on his mind, with brown sandals and his hair let loose under a Rastafarian hat to complete his look. When he hangs out with his friends though he takes a more civil approach, patterned short-sleeved collar shirts with jeans and black shoes with his hair tied in a loose manner. When it comes to social occasions, he tends to dress for best, leaving nothing to disappoint.
When he’s at work he goes for the long-sleeved button-up shirts with his initials in the breast pocket and black slacks with black shoes. Sure he can dress in his normal attire, but he likes to be presentable and thinks that how he dresses affects his work output. The only thing that never changes throughout this is the silver bracelet he wears, with a single angel charm hanging from it.
Personality:
Darius can be described as the passive/comical if he was placed in a group. He is known to be the one to calm a situation which might get out of control between two pissed people, and afterwards brush everything off and try to joke about it at the end. This sometimes gets him in trouble when it doesn’t work, often involving him in the fight at the end as well. It does work though when he flirts with women, who they find intriguing when it comes to someone who looks like they’ve been through the battlefield at least once in their lifetime.
He is very easygoing when it comes to his friends, and unlike the ones who like to keep to themselves, he likes to interact with people and try to get along with others, but will respect their boundaries if they won’t respond back. Sometimes things don’t go right for him and due to a relapse he had Darius has shown signs of being somewhat unstable. His past life was harsh but that doesn’t leave without saying that he was an aggressive and ruthless battler that left nothing standing in his way. This side of Darius has been prone to show itself when he is working and at first it provided problems and he was restrained immediately. After making a deal that satisfied both sides though, he makes sure that he doesn’t screw up in his job, and has a 99% success rate to channel his sudden anger issues.
History:
Darius was born in Downtown: filled with historic monuments but considered the troubled side of Kingston as well. Even though this was a fact, Darius was born in a good middle-class family with a loving mother, hard-working father, and a rowdy little ‘sister’ who he liked to tease and protect. She wasn’t his little sister by blood, and they didn’t even look related, but his mother was sympathetic when she found her in the streets one night and brought her back. They didn’t hit it off right away, the girl being very fidgety and not letting anyone near her, but slowly she opened up when he tried to talk to her, trying some of his new jokes on the girl and sometimes getting a giggle or two when they worked.
He had a good life until he was 15. His father helps in the exporting of AC generators at Rayleonard, and as such is away from his family by living in North America, but communicates with them when he has time. He sends part of his money back to them, and it helps when his mother isn’t able to land an odd job for the week. Darius is not left far behind, helping out around the house as well and also doing odd jobs around their neighborhood, his little sister helping out afterwards with his mom and him landing a solid job as a paper boy at the age of twelve. He was in that job until he was 14, and then worked for one year in a convenience store that paid better and was able to help more with the bills around the house, giving his sister some reprieve from her own work and letting her have a normal life.
The first half of the year was good for Darius and his family. He and his mother worked while his sister stayed home and watched the house, but during this time he was also planning on what he wanted to get for his birthday, parting some of the money from his earnings to have enough at the end. He had his eyes on these pair of sneakers, great for soccer and perfect for when he wanted to practice the hometown sport with his friends. Apart from his love for his family, soccer came second to that (comedy third), his mind drifting sometimes during work and getting reprimanded afterwards for daydreaming. His goal was suddenly reached when in his fifteenth birthday he went and successfully bought the shoes, going back home with a huge grin on his face and his brand new sneakers placed comfortably on his feet, like if they were made just for him, and knowing that back at home his mother and sister were preparing something special for him to eat.
He slowed his steps when he neared his home, and his grin quickly reduced itself to a frown when he heard the gunshots and screaming. He had never seen drug cartels near his home before, but he knew they were around, especially in this part of Kingston. It was still shocking and heart-wrenching when he heard his little sister scream as she was being dragged out of their home, his mother wailing as she made her way outside. He tried to make his way towards them, screaming out their names as he did, but was stopped in his tracks when a bullet caught him in the leg, trying to suppress most of his shouts as he clutched his leg in agonizing pain. He watched as they took his sister, along with several other kids, and killed his mother at point-blank when she tried to snatch her back. He couldn’t handle this pain, both mentally and physically, and he tried to move once more, but his world was soon shut out of his view when they placed a bag over his head and knocked him out cold.
The next year is part of the memory that he still has trouble remembering, and it’s safe to say that it’s a relief he doesn’t. That year was filled with agony and torture, the ones who had captured him trying to break his spirit so that he would be willing to work for them. The reason they had attacked like that was so that they could get new recruits for their cartel, since they were running low because of all the raids they’ve had that were conducted by ACs, and it didn’t matter if they were still little kids, like his sister Nina, or teenagers, like Darius. That year they tried to break him, almost to the point where he wouldn't remember his past life, but he prevailed, because he knew that his dad was alive, and his sister was hopefully alive as well. The torture that was placed on him were harsh and fierce, and they even had a set time on what the would do to him: He was shocked constantly in the morning through the soles of his feet, followed by the placement of a metal bucket over his head and the repetitive banging his torturers would do so that it would leave a stinging sensation in his ears and a profound headache at the end, and finishing the day off with the striking of his already sore soles with a wooden cane that left them bloody afterwards. This only happened for the first two months though, seeing as that it wouldn't help if the boy only viewed the group with hateful eyes.
They started treating him more humane, starting by treating his injuries and moving him from location to a more accommodate room, complete with a bed and bathroom, which he was grateful for. He was still wary about this and didn't let up not even once, wondering if they were just giving him a false sense of security. They fed him properly now, unlike the gruel and water they had him sustained with during the first two months, and was even provided with a new set of clothes. He knew something was up if they were this nice to him, but he didn't say anything and went with it. He was still kept away from the rest of the group, but it changed after the sixth month when Amos decided to introduce him into the cartel. He decided it was time for answers and fed up with it asked Amos why he was treating him this nice. The older man responded with a smile that he had wanted him to work alongside the others in the cartel, and out of the ones he had captured only a few had survived the tortures, including him, knowing that the ones who survived were adequate for this type of work. Darius refused strongly, wanting nothing to do with this way of life and just wanting to get away and go back to his old home where he would wait for his father to come back. That small ray of hope was diminished when Amos, the leader of the drug cartel, showed him pictures of his father arriving at the airport a week after his birthday, probably to surprise him, and later pictures of his father’s carved up body being thrown into the river. At that point he knew all hope was lost and just succumbed to his unfortunate fate, becoming a very helpful minion of Amos, this new mindset actually protecting his old memories and blocking from his emotions ever showing to the rest of the world.
He worked for Amos at least 10 years, every job that was handled by him coming out successful and gaining influence inside the top ring leaders of the Kingston cartel as Amos' right hand man. He followed his leader’s instructions word by word, and showed no mercy to people who would betray them, or to his enemies. During that he also got his fair share of scars, surviving a bullet shot through his chest near his heart when one of the deals almost went sour, and one through his shoulder when one of his partners decided to take the money and the drugs for himself, Darius killing him off with his remaining strength. He had also acquired tattoos for himself, the crocodile teeth for his favorite reptile and his favorite way of torture (death by crocodiles), and the name Hollie for his mother, which was the only thing he remembered from her at that time. Probably one of the best in the field of drug dealing, Darius was not someone who you wanted to get near for the sake of your lives.
Everything was well for him, by other person’s expenses, and didn’t know any other way of living until he was 25, when he had obtained his first failed deal, but a brand new way of life. It took place in New Kingston, Amos actually coming with him with the rest of the members so that nothing can go wrong. It was supposed to be one of their big hits yet, and his leader had gotten the memo a week before to set everything up. What they didn’t know was that they were being lead to a trap, placed by a company that viewed them as a big threat and the only thing that was waiting for them was total obliteration. Ever since his (Darius) success, Amos’ cartel became one of the most powerful and influential ones in Kingston, and if it continued like that it would spread for the worse. The CIA knew that they had to attack from the roots, and they did when Darius with the rest arrived to the scene, only to be greeted by ACs, who showed no mercy as they fired at them, leaving no one alive. Once they were done they did one more sweep around the perimeter to see if anyone was alive, and surprisingly Darius survived the onslaught, hidden beneath a pile of rubble, his back all bloodied and scarred when they uncovered him…
Darius is now 35 and has been working for Collared for almost 7 years. The day they had found him they were going to kill him but Nina, who had miraculously survived her escape from hell, had trained to become a Pilot for the CIA, and pleaded for her companions to not kill him, since it wasn’t his fault for getting turned into this. They were hesitant in leaving him alive, but they complied with Nina's request. She made him go through rehabilitation, which took only one year, and after his rehab he was placed under arrest. He knew that all of his crimes couldn’t go unpunished, and so he accepted whatever the CIA had in store for him. He was surprised to say the least that he was to be kept only two years in CIA headquarters, but everything became clear when his sister explained the situation to him. She told him about her escape, and on how she had obtained her first job as an informant about the drug cartel, eventually moving up to being an agent herself, and lastly an Irregular when they found out she had great AMS compatibility. It was only her status as an Irregular that had smoothen out his sentence, as well as providing deeper information into the drug trade’s workings. During that time he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere, and seeing Nina was scarce, his sister only coming when she brings updates on their progress with bringing down the drug cartels.
When most of the cartel-breaking was done, Nina had arranged for him to be put under her supervision, meaning she would be his probation officer. He was implanted with a sub-dermal (under the skin) GPS locator, as well as wearing a GPS ankle bracelet. He was limited to a three mile radius around his and Nina’s place of residence, or he would have to be with her personally. After much of the cartel operation had subsided, Darius had more time to spend with his sister, and left him talking to her about how he had regretted being in the drug dealing business, but only halfheartedly because he missed the freedom he had and the power he obtained. She didn’t reproach him or get mad when he told her about this, but rather said that he didn’t have a choice, but after this he would. It wasn’t until a year later that the government was forced to disband their Irregulars, leaving Nina without a job. It didn’t last though since she had accepted a job as a Pilot for Collared, and being informed by Darius that he had picked up on a few of the things that her operators were doing for her and the other Irregulars during missions and suggested that he could be her Operator.
She accepted his request and after filling him in on more about what Operators do and doing some drills, he had gotten the hang of it pretty fast. Afterwards his success rate was high as with every mission his sister was on, he was able to help her with so much precision that it was scary. This changed when he had a relapse when his sister suffered major injuries during one of her missions and was left comatose with indefinite time, never knowing when she would wake up again. Due to the sudden relapse he was restrained and locked up once more while it passed. Now Darius is an above average Operator, but not like he was before his relapse, but still better than most of the ones working alongside him, excluding his seniors.
Other:
Darius is proficient in hand-to-hand combat, as well as good with hand guns and shotguns, due to his past life. Even though his past life was suppressed, his skills weren’t and that was something that became a benefit rather than a downside. He also took time in learning how to play the steel drum, and likes to sometimes teach and play soccer to kids in his neighborhood and participate at Comedy Night every Sunday in the small café located in the corner of his street. He tends to have nightmares about his past life and wakes up screaming to some of them, but is able to calm himself long enough to fall asleep again, or if he can't, he goes out and walks his anxiety off.
In addition, he has conflicting feelings for his sister, Nina. On one hand he is frustrated that his freedom was taken away and would love to find a way to deactivate his GPS trackers so that he can do whatever he pleases. This idea would always get thrown back to the deep recesses of his mind, since he wouldn’t stand betraying and being away from Nina, his only living family member and the one who saved him after all this time, only showing compassion when he shouldn’t even get it for what he has done. He envied when he would see her fly around in her AC during missions, but now found it ironic ever since she was confined to a bed in a comatose state, now seeing that it was him that had more freedom than her.
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