Not bringing this fella in yet--ran this all by Phoe already, new on the ship currently, he'll participate in this mission but he won't be on the war council or anything, just want him ready to go.
Name: Six
Gender: Male
Class: Infiltrator
Role: Ground-Team
Race: Human
Breathes: Default
Background:
Pre-Procedure:
Post Procedure:
When Six was twenty-two he was put into an experimental procedure wherein his memory was erased from his mind and his identity was erased from the world. No government files, no personal things--as far as any system was concerned, he came into existence when he became Six. Didn’t even know a name past that.
It was a bit jarring, he thought--wasn’t any kind of uncomfortable or anything, he already knew the common language and, since he had no way to know any different, he assumed it was the truth when the nurses and workers around him informed him that he wasn’t in any kind of danger. Just a bit strange.
They said he was the sixth (hence the name), although he never met any of the others.
They trained him extensively for two years--weapons, hand to hand combat, a little bit of hacking just in case he needed it--until he was as deadly as they came. Adding to the physical things, they did some psyche work as well--a bit on reading expressions and basic psychology, but he figured out pretty quickly that the more classroom based stuff was more to tell whether he himself was sound rather than him being able to read others. As far as he knew he passed--he felt alright after the initial surprise of it, and it always felt more like just getting his footing than being re-born or however they liked to phrase it. He was in the field quickly enough.
His first mission was an assassination, some man who led some country somewhere, somewhat bird-looking species with a couple extra limbs and a handful of extra eyes to go with them, who was apparently genocidal. Six killed him quickly and efficiently--he didn’t feel too bad about it. They’d given him that “everybody who we have you kill is someone who’s done something to deserve to be killed” talk, and without any other thing to base his experiences off of he accepted it easily. Thus he had an acceptance to his work and the fact that he kills--not detachment, he thought it’d be far more disrespectful to their lives to feel nothing, but at the same time, they got themselves into it just as much as he did. Not to mention he knew that chances were he’d go down doing this too, eventually one of them would take him down before he did them.
He was twenty five when he met his partner--doing security at a target’s house. Six found himself rather stuck, the mark dead but security still gunning for him, and he helped Six make a quick escape. Wasn’t hard to convince his employers to keep them together after that.
At twenty six, he was donated pseudo-anonymously (only the higher-ups knew who exactly it was that handed him over--to everyone else, just another recruit) to the Alliance, who assigned him to the Argent Dawn.
Personality: Six is a calm, level-headed guy--rather quiet, but not unfriendly. Looking at him outside the armor, you wouldn’t peg him for an assassin--generally with a relaxed smile on his face, padding around in flip flops or slippers always happy to make small talk or easy conversation. Introverted, but not excessively so--not exactly a party-goer, but not adverse to get-togethers. Simply put, he’s one of the most mild-mannered people to ever be met.
During his work, he’s a bit more efficient--quieter, definitely, speaking only when absolutely necessary, and fast to get in and get out and do what he’s been ordered to. Able to hold his own in a fight, but not one to actively seek one out, focusing more on getting the mission complete than anything else.
Character Description: Five foot eleven (5’11”) human with a narrow but muscled build, attractive but not overtly so, a decently forgettable face. The hair is a darkish red--not quite bloody, a bit too brown for that, and cut so that it’s shaven almost down to the skin on the sides and back of his head, with a shaggy ruff over the top. His skin is slightly tanned--not dark, not quite, but not pale, except for the two slashing scars running sideways across his face. His eyes are what is really striking--a bright, pale blue, nearly cyan, central heterochromia in the left one painting the area around the pupil a sharp yellow.
Though generally dressing comfortably and casually, he has what he fondly refers to as his “work suit”--the armor provided by the company. Thin and close to him, the fabric is thicker around his forearms and shins, and plated at his chest, shoulders, elbows, and knees. The mask is spiked across the top--mostly decoration--and has a buggy, gas-mask appearance. The entire thing is coloured in dark blue- and purple-greys, leaving him with a look not unlike an old suit of armor or statue, threatening and otherworldly.
He carries with him one weapon--a small cylinder, slightly thicker at each end like dual hilts, which sticks onto his belt. One end has two small buttons--one ejects a thin, long metal rod, pointed at one end like a needle, and the other slides a small blade out from that, allowing it to cut as well as stab. Small, but deadly in the right hands.
Proficiencies:
-Pistol Training
-Sniper Training
-Close Quarters Combat Training
-Basic Hacking
-Stealth
Name: Six
Gender: Male
Class: Infiltrator
Role: Ground-Team
Race: Human
Breathes: Default
Background:
Pre-Procedure:
Post Procedure:
When Six was twenty-two he was put into an experimental procedure wherein his memory was erased from his mind and his identity was erased from the world. No government files, no personal things--as far as any system was concerned, he came into existence when he became Six. Didn’t even know a name past that.
It was a bit jarring, he thought--wasn’t any kind of uncomfortable or anything, he already knew the common language and, since he had no way to know any different, he assumed it was the truth when the nurses and workers around him informed him that he wasn’t in any kind of danger. Just a bit strange.
They said he was the sixth (hence the name), although he never met any of the others.
They trained him extensively for two years--weapons, hand to hand combat, a little bit of hacking just in case he needed it--until he was as deadly as they came. Adding to the physical things, they did some psyche work as well--a bit on reading expressions and basic psychology, but he figured out pretty quickly that the more classroom based stuff was more to tell whether he himself was sound rather than him being able to read others. As far as he knew he passed--he felt alright after the initial surprise of it, and it always felt more like just getting his footing than being re-born or however they liked to phrase it. He was in the field quickly enough.
His first mission was an assassination, some man who led some country somewhere, somewhat bird-looking species with a couple extra limbs and a handful of extra eyes to go with them, who was apparently genocidal. Six killed him quickly and efficiently--he didn’t feel too bad about it. They’d given him that “everybody who we have you kill is someone who’s done something to deserve to be killed” talk, and without any other thing to base his experiences off of he accepted it easily. Thus he had an acceptance to his work and the fact that he kills--not detachment, he thought it’d be far more disrespectful to their lives to feel nothing, but at the same time, they got themselves into it just as much as he did. Not to mention he knew that chances were he’d go down doing this too, eventually one of them would take him down before he did them.
He was twenty five when he met his partner--doing security at a target’s house. Six found himself rather stuck, the mark dead but security still gunning for him, and he helped Six make a quick escape. Wasn’t hard to convince his employers to keep them together after that.
At twenty six, he was donated pseudo-anonymously (only the higher-ups knew who exactly it was that handed him over--to everyone else, just another recruit) to the Alliance, who assigned him to the Argent Dawn.
Personality: Six is a calm, level-headed guy--rather quiet, but not unfriendly. Looking at him outside the armor, you wouldn’t peg him for an assassin--generally with a relaxed smile on his face, padding around in flip flops or slippers always happy to make small talk or easy conversation. Introverted, but not excessively so--not exactly a party-goer, but not adverse to get-togethers. Simply put, he’s one of the most mild-mannered people to ever be met.
During his work, he’s a bit more efficient--quieter, definitely, speaking only when absolutely necessary, and fast to get in and get out and do what he’s been ordered to. Able to hold his own in a fight, but not one to actively seek one out, focusing more on getting the mission complete than anything else.
Character Description: Five foot eleven (5’11”) human with a narrow but muscled build, attractive but not overtly so, a decently forgettable face. The hair is a darkish red--not quite bloody, a bit too brown for that, and cut so that it’s shaven almost down to the skin on the sides and back of his head, with a shaggy ruff over the top. His skin is slightly tanned--not dark, not quite, but not pale, except for the two slashing scars running sideways across his face. His eyes are what is really striking--a bright, pale blue, nearly cyan, central heterochromia in the left one painting the area around the pupil a sharp yellow.
Though generally dressing comfortably and casually, he has what he fondly refers to as his “work suit”--the armor provided by the company. Thin and close to him, the fabric is thicker around his forearms and shins, and plated at his chest, shoulders, elbows, and knees. The mask is spiked across the top--mostly decoration--and has a buggy, gas-mask appearance. The entire thing is coloured in dark blue- and purple-greys, leaving him with a look not unlike an old suit of armor or statue, threatening and otherworldly.
He carries with him one weapon--a small cylinder, slightly thicker at each end like dual hilts, which sticks onto his belt. One end has two small buttons--one ejects a thin, long metal rod, pointed at one end like a needle, and the other slides a small blade out from that, allowing it to cut as well as stab. Small, but deadly in the right hands.
Proficiencies:
-Pistol Training
-Sniper Training
-Close Quarters Combat Training
-Basic Hacking
-Stealth
