Reserved for Lyn if I ever decide to make a character sheet for her. I lost it. I DO WHAT I WANT.
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Massasauga Special Forums Operational Detachment - Delta
Member
Online
Name: Joy Knox
Sex: Female
Age: 17
Experiment Tier: Leaf
Enhanced Trait 1: Enhanced muscle tissue
Enhanced Trait 1 Downside: "Enhanced" is being generous. She's just stronger than she would be normally for a girl her age.
Enhanced Trait 2: Pain receptor suppressant
Enhanced Trait 2 Downside: While the pain is ignored, the rest of the trouble that comes with the wound is not.
Faction: N/A (Nomadic)
Appearance:
Clothing: As pictured with a few odds and ends around. Mainly military-surplus grade clothing.
Personality: Quiet but not totally antisocial. Curious, but also cautious. Still prefers to be distanced rather than at the center of attention
Weapons: McMillan CS5 with suppressor, Rock Island Armory M1911, OKC FF6 Freedom Fighter
Equipment: Rucksack, TAC belt, side holster, ammunition pouches on both legs, knee pads, elbow pads, shoulder pad, sleeping bag, flashlight, bandages, tourniquet, pack of cigarettes, mini multi-fuel stove, canteen, multi-tool
Bio: Joy had the rough life like the other test subjects. She was an alternate, though. The government mainly kept her around just in cases they needed one more test subject to experiment on in the event they ran out. However, with the help of the Three Kings, she ran out first before they could get to her. Being older than the others, she had the luxury of getting some extra free time in which was usually spent reading old Tom Clancy novels and bugging security guards to show her tricks they learned. While most never bothered to give her the time of day, she managed to get some one-on-one time at the range during the off hours with a few. Marksmanship was an essential skill that needed to be honed, along with how to determine and eliminate priority targets. These were hard lessons that she needed to learn.
After the escape, Joy hung around with some of the other girls. Two injections gave her a muscle mass boost and a sort of regulatory strain that deactivated her pain receptors. Though not exactly on board with the idea of the last one, she figured that since she was being hunted now like the others that it would be better to go with what she could than not. After two weeks of being on the run, she became separated from the other girls. Lacking much in the sense of a personal arsenal at the moment, she snuck out and made her way to a junkyard. She now lives out of one of the vans, trying to keep her spirits up, her stomach full, and her head on her shoulders.
Sex: Female
Age: 17
Experiment Tier: Leaf
Enhanced Trait 1: Enhanced muscle tissue
Enhanced Trait 1 Downside: "Enhanced" is being generous. She's just stronger than she would be normally for a girl her age.
Enhanced Trait 2: Pain receptor suppressant
Enhanced Trait 2 Downside: While the pain is ignored, the rest of the trouble that comes with the wound is not.
Faction: N/A (Nomadic)
Appearance:
Clothing: As pictured with a few odds and ends around. Mainly military-surplus grade clothing.
Personality: Quiet but not totally antisocial. Curious, but also cautious. Still prefers to be distanced rather than at the center of attention
Weapons: McMillan CS5 with suppressor, Rock Island Armory M1911, OKC FF6 Freedom Fighter
Equipment: Rucksack, TAC belt, side holster, ammunition pouches on both legs, knee pads, elbow pads, shoulder pad, sleeping bag, flashlight, bandages, tourniquet, pack of cigarettes, mini multi-fuel stove, canteen, multi-tool
Bio: Joy had the rough life like the other test subjects. She was an alternate, though. The government mainly kept her around just in cases they needed one more test subject to experiment on in the event they ran out. However, with the help of the Three Kings, she ran out first before they could get to her. Being older than the others, she had the luxury of getting some extra free time in which was usually spent reading old Tom Clancy novels and bugging security guards to show her tricks they learned. While most never bothered to give her the time of day, she managed to get some one-on-one time at the range during the off hours with a few. Marksmanship was an essential skill that needed to be honed, along with how to determine and eliminate priority targets. These were hard lessons that she needed to learn.
After the escape, Joy hung around with some of the other girls. Two injections gave her a muscle mass boost and a sort of regulatory strain that deactivated her pain receptors. Though not exactly on board with the idea of the last one, she figured that since she was being hunted now like the others that it would be better to go with what she could than not. After two weeks of being on the run, she became separated from the other girls. Lacking much in the sense of a personal arsenal at the moment, she snuck out and made her way to a junkyard. She now lives out of one of the vans, trying to keep her spirits up, her stomach full, and her head on her shoulders.
Obscene Symphony sea wench
Member
Seen
12 days ago
Name:
Eliza Marks
Alias:
"Marks"
Sex:
Female
Age:
19
Experiment Tier:
Test Subject
Enhanced Trait 1:
Speed. Eliza’s tendons, ligaments and muscles were augmented to handle moving at an alarming rate. She can reach running speeds of up to 65 kilometres an hour (roughly 40mph) although this was her fastest speed ever recorded and occurred during a life-or-death situation. It also left her nearly immobile with soreness for a week. She generally won’t exceed 55km/h, though she works herself hard in an effort condition and train herself to go even faster. In fact, she's raised her top comfortable speed by 5 kilometres since her escape, and has improved greatly upon her agility. Aside from running, Eliza can also move the rest of her body abnormally quickly, which becomes very useful for balance and reaction time.
Enhanced Trait 1 Downside:
Amputated legs. This augmentation of speed required that her legs be amputated just above the knee. (Unbeknownst to Eliza: During initial testing of her speed, it was discovered that while her muscles and tendons were fine, her flesh and bones were not strong enough for such speed and force. Her first test runs resulted in essentially grinding the bones in her feet and lower legs into sludge.) While her prosthetics are cool, they leave her unable to swim or climb ladders with any efficiency. Hardware malfunctions are becoming increasingly common; her artificial knees require maintenance that, while she does do her best to take care of them, need specialized attention.
Ice is her worst enemy, and tile is a close second. Another important downside to her prosthetics: They make her extremely easy to spot, to the point where any venture onto the surface is an extremely risky one. As they are one-of-a-kind and designed specifically for her abilities, every SWAT or Seeker out there knows that where they find the legs, they find the girl. And as they are impossible to hide beneath pant legs, her only options are long, billowing skirts (which tend to get caught in the sharp tips of her "toe" and make running difficult) or to try and stay out of sight. As a result, any and every venture into the public eye is incredibly risky.
Enhanced Trait 2:
Enhanced processing. In order to handle all that speed, Eliza’s brain needed to be able to process her sensory information fast enough to keep up. In this way, when she runs, one could say she sees things as if she is moving normally and everything else is very slow (of course when asked, Eliza says she notices little difference; she feels as if no more time has passed. She really can't put the sensation into words). This helps her make quick decisions and dodge attacks that would otherwise be difficult to avoid. This also grants her the ability to make very quick decisions, a skill which lends itself well to strategy and improvisation.
Enhanced Trait 2 Downside:
Corner-cutting. To allow for this processing, her brain ignores things like colour and sound in favour of processing important signals such as simple sight of objects and movement. For example, while she stands still, she perceives the world normally. While running, her vision fades to black and white and her senses of hearing, taste and smell shut down entirely. However, she will see objects and movement very clearly, and can even read words on the go. (This effect can be considered the same as a human under extreme stress. This commonly happens to police officers, firefighters, soldiers, and regular people experiencing things like a shooting or a car accident. It is the brain's way of protecting itself - sacrificing unnecessary senses to put that power toward processing important ones faster. Normal humans would only experience this for a few seconds, and their judgement would be heavily impaired and instinctual; Eliza's has little effect on judgement, but a lot on sensory reception.)
This augmentation also lends itself to over-stimulation issues such as frequent headaches and disorientation. Think of moderate-to-severe ADHD that comes and goes at random. For example, at high speeds, taking in information all at once is useful; during a conversation, it can be very difficult to understand the other person when the brain is trying to drink in every ounce of information in the room.
Another fun side effect is insomnia!
Faction:
POLTAVA
Appearance:
Weighing 100lbs (likely closer to 120 if her legs were still attached) and standing at 5'10 with the help of her prosthetics, Eliza has what one could call a dancer's or a runner's body, slim with understated power. Her biological legs are firm and clearly powerful, and her core and arms are strong and well-defined. She has a defined face with high cheekbones and sharp features, a pair of burning grey eyes becoming the focal point. Her skin is pale, but clear, with some blemishes such as twin scars along her palms and outer forearms (wide with rough edges, reminiscent of large scrapes or burns) and a number "5" tattooed on the back of her neck, under the hair. She suspects these to be remnants of her time in testing.
Clothing:
Eliza keeps her clothing simple, light, and streamlined; all in an effort to maximize her speed and comfort while running. She wears snug athletic spandex pants, cut short where her legs give way to prosthetics. The fabric is thick enough to act less like leggings and more like proper pants. Her shirts are generally sleeveless and snug. She tries to stick to neutral, background colours. She chooses snug-fitting clothes because they do not flap in the wind while she runs.
Eliza can often be found in light sweaters for colder weather (she avoids heavy clothing because her speed tends to keep her temperature up) along with dark sunglasses. On trips to the surface she sometimes dons a long, loose skirt, a too-large windbreaker (making her look much heavier than she is) and a scarf.
No shoes to speak of - she doesn't need them.
Personality:
At first glance, many find Eliza to be rather cold. That's because she is - she has no patience for foolishness, pity, or uselessness. She's the type who will volunteer to teach someone, but slap them on the head for not trying hard enough. Though her methods are brutal, she's not entirely heartless; she just has a difficult time showing it.
A brilliant strategist and negotiator with confidence and know-how to spare, it's no surprise that Eliza has become a kind of ambassador for her group. In fact, natural leadership qualities, high standards and a certain ruthlessness have made her a trustworthy figure within Poltava, and one of its influential members and few "leaders". Despite her cold nature, she has taken on an almost maternal attitude toward her faction members and protects her people like a mother bear. No one messes with Poltava without hearing from her.
Weapons:
Mainly, her state-of-the-art aluminum running prosthetics (longer than pictured), complete with rubber pads on the bottoms for grip, wicked-sharp edges and thin rapier blades running vertically down their length, able to extend and retract seemingly at will. She also carries a crowbar, a folding knife and a length of thin, strong wire tied between two wooden dowels. While at normal speed, such a thing could be used to strangle someone, at high speeds it is effective enough to cut flesh and score bone.
Eliza’s legs were designed by the testing facility specifically to fit her needs. They are extremely strong and resilient, yet flexible enough to give a significant bounce (similar to walking on a trampoline) which helps to increase her speed and jump height/distance. This elasticity also helps ease the strain put on her skeleton while running.
While her original height was 5’6, the legs bring her up to 5’10, giving her legs an oddly-proportioned look with high knees. The legs were amputated above the knee because researchers found that the lowest amputation point that would still support her speed was her femur.
While her original height was 5’6, the legs bring her up to 5’10, giving her legs an oddly-proportioned look with high knees. The legs were amputated above the knee because researchers found that the lowest amputation point that would still support her speed was her femur.
Equipment:
Essentially, a small one-shoulder backpack containing:
- A collapsible plastic water bottle
- A few non-perishable food items (bars, dried food, occasionally a canned good or two; these she needs to keep up her energy for all that running)
- A small first-aid kit with bandages, disinfectant and gauze
- A kit of small tools (miniature screwdriver and pliers, an assortment of pins, etc. Useful for emergency repairs and occasionally persuading a lock or two)
- A small bottle of painkillers (packed with tissue to prevent the pills from rattling)
Bio:
Elixa's memory of her past is dodgy at best, but it's enough to go on. She was an only child, born to parents with high standards. All her life, they pushed their daughter to improve, to achieve perfection. Her grades were great, and what time wasn't spent studying was spent in one of her two other activities: Dance and track. She was a track star and a natural dancer - combine that with her parents' constant pressure to be better and the resulting girl was near-militarily disciplined. Nothing in her life was ever out of place, nothing fell into disarray.
Between this childhood and the present is, like all escapees, a blank. She can't recall her age when she was taken, but she's quite sure that she was an early bloomer and her capture came in the middle of puberty.
During the escape, Eliza used her speed to seek out an escape route, marking it with nondescript chalk symbols and resulting in her new name: Marks. When she'd done that, she returned in an attempt to escort the other, younger escapees to safety. With her speed and her legs - a weapon where most others had none - she was able to fend off SWAT members and security long enough to get a good chunk of girls out. Ever since, she has been respected amongst her peers, often looked toward in difficult times.
Other:
Speed must be sustained, and as such, Eliza is almost always hungry. She also gets frequent muscle spasms in her legs.
Everyone in Poltava would either know her or know of her. She tries to meet everyone and know them to some extent.
Theme Song
AtomicNut Abusive Contractor
Member
Seen
13 hrs ago
Name: Miroslav AKA Miro AKA The Demon of the Construction Site.
Sex: Male
Age: 19
Faction: Resistance-cooperator Citizen.
Appearance: Miro is a lean, shorter than average scruffy youth with slavic features. He has icy blue eyes, pale complexion, and short black hair. Beneath his clothes, he's actually very toned and muscular, and he has a couple of faded out scars in his body, as well as a couple of bullet scars, more recent.
Clothing: Miro usually dresses in baggy, non restrictive clothes, such as cargo pants, loose, monochromatic Tshirts, and a baggy sweater. The most outstanding piece are his clothing is his boots. Sturdy,steel reinforced and high quality, these are one of the pieces Miro cares for, as they aid him to perform to his fullest.
Personality: Miro is rather gruff to approach, and rather sparse in his words. He often makes very laconic statements, even when he's impressed. Underneath his rough shell, lies a rather scarred and tormented kind person, who has seen the horrors of humanity up close even as a child. For that very reason, he's very supportive and protective of the underdogs, and specially of kids and teenagers like him. Loyal to those few who managed to befriend him, Miro doesn't hesitate when it comes to trading blows, specially for the sake of his loved ones, and he does it with a viciousness and vindictiviness only seen in war-torn people.
Weapons: His fists and legs. He's actually a MMA fighter, as well as a good traceur. He knows how to shoot a gun, but he rarely carries one of those, what with all the Martial Law and whatnot.
Equipment: His clothes, a wallet, a cellphone, and a pocket knife (more a tool than a weapon). He also owns a motorbike and a Gymnasium in the slums where he sleeps and trains (and doubles as safe house for GMG).
Bio:Miroslav and his sister Olga were a couple of war-orphans hailing from a eastern europe country. In the world-upsetting wake of the Life 0 virus, little Miro did his best to keep him and his sister alive, as the Order of the world crumbled around them. Fortunately for them, this caught the eye of an american foreigner, which brought them to the USA as child refugees. Olga was then soon adopted by the government, although at that time Miro wasn't aware of the implications of such a thing. He was happy he had fulfilled his elder brother obligations. Unlike Olga, he was never adopted, and in time, he sunk in hopelessness and bitterness, becoming some sort of a troublesome youth. What drove him the most mad, though, was that he never, once received news of his sister.
Fortunately, a charitable soul intervened. A former washed out martial artist and traceur, who picked him out of the streets because he was nimble. He taught him discipline, education, restraint, martial arts, parkour, and morals. He in turn, participated in tournaments to bring the fame his master could never achieve, both legal and illegal. It was a harsh life, full of pain, blood and tears, but at least Miro knew he could make a living, and sleep well at night, not once worrying wether the next time he would wake up would have a gun aimed at his face.
However, eventually, all things would come to an end. Vincent Banks, the man who took Miro in, was dying from a strange freak cancer, fruit of years of substance abuse. Miro found himself on the situation to take care of his gymnasium and funeral, since Vincent had alienated himself from all his past acquaintances. However, Miro took it in stride, and did as the old man who had been his surrogate father wished. But then the dilemma struck. What to do after? He had won a tournament. He had taken care of his master remains.
Fate had a funny way to tell him. In front of his eyes, on a certain night in the slums, someone who never expected to run again into appeared. It was Olga. Her sister, all grown up. But she was dishevelled, wounded and in intense fear. Despite that, she managed to recognize him aswell, as she pleaded for help as she ran into a nearby block, panicked. His shock widened as a whole squad of SWAT followed, guns blazing, after her.
Government or not, he would never ignore a plea of his sister, and with a disgusted grimace, he set out after the squad. It was reliving his old life again. With hostile soldiers everywhere. But now, he had something. He could fight back to an extent. The first of them never knew what had snuck up him, as two deft hands suddenly appeared from his behind, twisting his neck in an unnatural angle, before jumping and vanishing on the many pillars and blocks of the construction building. The second was only a little luckier, as he saw the fast motion of the shovel before it cleanly cleaved its face. The third got a couple of lucky grazing shots, before he chocked when Miro stuffed his mouth with a ignited smoke grenade. It was then when the fourth requested reinforcements, his eyes wide as he opened fire on the once again, vanishing Miro. He didn't last, though, as Olga had managed to sneak up on him aswell and shot him in the face, without hesitation.
She smiled, blood covering her face, as she devolved into tears soon after, clutching her wounds. "I knew you would come to get me." She said between sobs. "Listen-WATCH OUT."
She interrupted herself as she drove Miro out of her way, three shots of automatic gunfire impacting on her lithe body with dull thuds. The reinforcements were there. In the form of something Miro had never seen before. An indescriptible monstrosity, who was a very wrong sin against creation and sense.
Love has caused wars. Love has made people lift up cars, breaking their spines in the process, to save others. Love has made people jump into trains to push people out of the way. Love has made people tackle bears. And Love made Miro defy all kind of sense and self-preservation, upon engaging the Seeker. It readjusted and fired upon him, but Miro...flew. Jumping through the beams, climbing, running, never stopping at once. Steel beams, chains, even the odd grenade or weapon from the discarded SWAT team, he threw everything at the thing, without pause nor hesitation. The thing shrugged everything with contemptous ease, and was managing to even hit him with his weapons. Not that Miro could ever feel at that point he was gravely injuried and had been shot several times. He just kept going and going on the self-destructive deadlock, until fortune smiled at him.
A pool of wet cement. Without thinking twice, he rammed the thing as hard as he could into the pool, sealing its movement. But he wasn't done yet, as he summoned the last of his strength for the coup de grace. Lifting a heavy jackhammer and leveling it against the creature's head, he didn't hesitate to pound the creature's skull with the construction machinery for a while for good measure until it stopped moving and screeching.
The weight of his wounds finally caught up to him, as he crawled towards the limp figure of his sister. She wasn't moving. She didn't even have a pulse. But she had the most placid smile in his face. Miro couldn't even begin to cry, before unconsciousness set in. When he woke up, his wounds had been tended, and there was an unknown girl besides him. She explained an ominous story, about girls being used as experiments, and that Olga had been one of them, much like her. His struggle had not pass unnoticed, and she asked for his help, despite being in mourning. They had very few allies, after all.
Miro just looked once away, before saying he would help. After all, they had to pay for whatever they had done with his sister.
Sex: Male
Age: 19
Faction: Resistance-cooperator Citizen.
Appearance: Miro is a lean, shorter than average scruffy youth with slavic features. He has icy blue eyes, pale complexion, and short black hair. Beneath his clothes, he's actually very toned and muscular, and he has a couple of faded out scars in his body, as well as a couple of bullet scars, more recent.
Clothing: Miro usually dresses in baggy, non restrictive clothes, such as cargo pants, loose, monochromatic Tshirts, and a baggy sweater. The most outstanding piece are his clothing is his boots. Sturdy,steel reinforced and high quality, these are one of the pieces Miro cares for, as they aid him to perform to his fullest.
Personality: Miro is rather gruff to approach, and rather sparse in his words. He often makes very laconic statements, even when he's impressed. Underneath his rough shell, lies a rather scarred and tormented kind person, who has seen the horrors of humanity up close even as a child. For that very reason, he's very supportive and protective of the underdogs, and specially of kids and teenagers like him. Loyal to those few who managed to befriend him, Miro doesn't hesitate when it comes to trading blows, specially for the sake of his loved ones, and he does it with a viciousness and vindictiviness only seen in war-torn people.
Weapons: His fists and legs. He's actually a MMA fighter, as well as a good traceur. He knows how to shoot a gun, but he rarely carries one of those, what with all the Martial Law and whatnot.
Equipment: His clothes, a wallet, a cellphone, and a pocket knife (more a tool than a weapon). He also owns a motorbike and a Gymnasium in the slums where he sleeps and trains (and doubles as safe house for GMG).
Bio:Miroslav and his sister Olga were a couple of war-orphans hailing from a eastern europe country. In the world-upsetting wake of the Life 0 virus, little Miro did his best to keep him and his sister alive, as the Order of the world crumbled around them. Fortunately for them, this caught the eye of an american foreigner, which brought them to the USA as child refugees. Olga was then soon adopted by the government, although at that time Miro wasn't aware of the implications of such a thing. He was happy he had fulfilled his elder brother obligations. Unlike Olga, he was never adopted, and in time, he sunk in hopelessness and bitterness, becoming some sort of a troublesome youth. What drove him the most mad, though, was that he never, once received news of his sister.
Fortunately, a charitable soul intervened. A former washed out martial artist and traceur, who picked him out of the streets because he was nimble. He taught him discipline, education, restraint, martial arts, parkour, and morals. He in turn, participated in tournaments to bring the fame his master could never achieve, both legal and illegal. It was a harsh life, full of pain, blood and tears, but at least Miro knew he could make a living, and sleep well at night, not once worrying wether the next time he would wake up would have a gun aimed at his face.
However, eventually, all things would come to an end. Vincent Banks, the man who took Miro in, was dying from a strange freak cancer, fruit of years of substance abuse. Miro found himself on the situation to take care of his gymnasium and funeral, since Vincent had alienated himself from all his past acquaintances. However, Miro took it in stride, and did as the old man who had been his surrogate father wished. But then the dilemma struck. What to do after? He had won a tournament. He had taken care of his master remains.
Fate had a funny way to tell him. In front of his eyes, on a certain night in the slums, someone who never expected to run again into appeared. It was Olga. Her sister, all grown up. But she was dishevelled, wounded and in intense fear. Despite that, she managed to recognize him aswell, as she pleaded for help as she ran into a nearby block, panicked. His shock widened as a whole squad of SWAT followed, guns blazing, after her.
Government or not, he would never ignore a plea of his sister, and with a disgusted grimace, he set out after the squad. It was reliving his old life again. With hostile soldiers everywhere. But now, he had something. He could fight back to an extent. The first of them never knew what had snuck up him, as two deft hands suddenly appeared from his behind, twisting his neck in an unnatural angle, before jumping and vanishing on the many pillars and blocks of the construction building. The second was only a little luckier, as he saw the fast motion of the shovel before it cleanly cleaved its face. The third got a couple of lucky grazing shots, before he chocked when Miro stuffed his mouth with a ignited smoke grenade. It was then when the fourth requested reinforcements, his eyes wide as he opened fire on the once again, vanishing Miro. He didn't last, though, as Olga had managed to sneak up on him aswell and shot him in the face, without hesitation.
She smiled, blood covering her face, as she devolved into tears soon after, clutching her wounds. "I knew you would come to get me." She said between sobs. "Listen-WATCH OUT."
She interrupted herself as she drove Miro out of her way, three shots of automatic gunfire impacting on her lithe body with dull thuds. The reinforcements were there. In the form of something Miro had never seen before. An indescriptible monstrosity, who was a very wrong sin against creation and sense.
Love has caused wars. Love has made people lift up cars, breaking their spines in the process, to save others. Love has made people jump into trains to push people out of the way. Love has made people tackle bears. And Love made Miro defy all kind of sense and self-preservation, upon engaging the Seeker. It readjusted and fired upon him, but Miro...flew. Jumping through the beams, climbing, running, never stopping at once. Steel beams, chains, even the odd grenade or weapon from the discarded SWAT team, he threw everything at the thing, without pause nor hesitation. The thing shrugged everything with contemptous ease, and was managing to even hit him with his weapons. Not that Miro could ever feel at that point he was gravely injuried and had been shot several times. He just kept going and going on the self-destructive deadlock, until fortune smiled at him.
A pool of wet cement. Without thinking twice, he rammed the thing as hard as he could into the pool, sealing its movement. But he wasn't done yet, as he summoned the last of his strength for the coup de grace. Lifting a heavy jackhammer and leveling it against the creature's head, he didn't hesitate to pound the creature's skull with the construction machinery for a while for good measure until it stopped moving and screeching.
The weight of his wounds finally caught up to him, as he crawled towards the limp figure of his sister. She wasn't moving. She didn't even have a pulse. But she had the most placid smile in his face. Miro couldn't even begin to cry, before unconsciousness set in. When he woke up, his wounds had been tended, and there was an unknown girl besides him. She explained an ominous story, about girls being used as experiments, and that Olga had been one of them, much like her. His struggle had not pass unnoticed, and she asked for his help, despite being in mourning. They had very few allies, after all.
Miro just looked once away, before saying he would help. After all, they had to pay for whatever they had done with his sister.
rechonq Silver River Royalty
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Name: James Argyle
Sex: Male
Age: 27
Faction: Swat/Citizen
Appearance: James is often in his suit as it seems that life around these girls is always dangerous. He is around 5'9 himself, but his suit puts him right at 6'0. When he isn't wearing his suit, he is well built, but not in a model or six pack type of way. He actually looks more like a strongman competitor. He had to be strong to be able to carry all of his gear and move about in firefights. He also has a lot of scars all over his body. Most are smaller, but a few are pretty big. He has blonde dirty blonde hair a thick face with a wide jawline.
Clothing: See Pic
Personality: James isn't necessarily the gentlest of gaints. He's not that tall, but his impressive size still gets him into the category of giant. He has a strong set of morals and defends them heavily. He is willing to give everyone a chance, but they only get just that. He is quick to correct wrongs and tries to keep the punishment fit for the crime, but can go overboard. He is normally very gentle with the girls, partially because they are girls, and partially because most of them could beat him to a pulp now. He is very quick to defend people or topics, even if he doesn't completely agree with them.
Weapons: ARX 160
Equipment: Bomb suit, gas mask, bullet proof riot shield.
Bio: James was originally an EOD technician for a swat team. Since he wasn't needed very often for that practice, he doubled as a swat team raider. He specialized in being the shield for quite obvious reasons. Some said he was suicidal since he always ran into the face of danger. Whether bullets or explosives, he had taken it all. Quite a few scars came about due to his practice. He enjoyed his job a lot. He wasn't the best shot himself or all that tactical, but when it came to being shot at, he was the best. It was his way of helping the city. He wasn't totally defense though. He was still outfitted with the standard ARX160 at the time. It wasn't anything special, but when the job was dead thugs, it got the job done.
One day though his team got an emergency call to respond to a break out. They were told that the targets were extremely dangerous and shouldn't be allowed to escape at any cost. James was very ready to go and provide cover against some more bad guys, but what he saw when he got there astonished him. They arrived and local police had set up a perimeter and were firing. James team began to set up positions, and as James moved to the front lines he saw girls lying in pools of blood in front of the entrance to this building. He was furious now. Whoever was in there that did this was going to pay dearly, but when he saw one of the girls escaping and one of his own team members shoot her it nearly made him sick. He yelled at him what he was doing. His teamate simply responded this is the mission. At that point James realized that they were sent there to mow down young girls. There was no danger to him at all. It looked more like a massacre as the authorities shot the girls trying to escape for cover. James couldn't take anymore. There was an alleyway the girls could escape through if they could reach it, but very few were making it. He ran to the door to the lab they were escaping and began escorting the girls three to four at a time, doing his best to keep them behind him during the fire. His teamates were confused and didn't shoot as he had his back turned, but once they figured out his intent he bacame a prime target as well. He shot back at a few of his former teamates when they began to approach realizing that firing from a far wasn't effective. He shot back at them wounding a few or at least hoping that's all he did. He says it was the hardest thing he's ever done in his life, but he couldn't stand the sight of the scene at the time. When all of the girls he could help escaped he followed them providing cover and time from pursuers. He eventually escaped himself with some of the girls help. Being a wanted fugitive almost as much as the girls now, he ended up living with them. More like a father figure to most of them than anything. James has come to love his girls and will do everything within his power to ensure their safety.
Kokushi Friendly Lycanthrope
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Name: Joslyn (Jossie) Vulcas
Sex: Female
Age: 17
Experiment Tier: Test Subject
Enhanced Trait 1:
Josyln’s enhanced Vision allows her to see with almost startling clarity, making it possible for her to pick up on the smallest of details when she is out in the field or simply trying her hardest to blend in and collect intel. Along with her ability to see clearer than the average human, she is also able to see things further away without the aid of a scope, giving her the ability to be an amazing sniper, though she does not classify as the best as she knows there is always someone out there better than herself. While she can see well enough in the dark, if the area is completely devoid of any form of light (i.e moonlight) she is unable to see just like any average human.
Enhanced Trait 1:
While Joslyn enjoys the perks of being able to see far and in complete clarity, this enhancement caused her to develop an acute sensitivity to light. Due to this, she must always wear sunglasses until nightfall and, unless the room is dim enough, while under artificial lighting. Part of her counts this as a blessing in disguise as it offers her a way to hide her eyes from those who are looking for her, as they are the most notable feature that she maintains. Should she be subjected to bright light (i.e a flash bang) without the proper eye protection, her sight is rendered useless until such a time that her retina’s are able to adjust and right themselves.
Enhanced Trait 2:
While she is unable to dodge bullets, Joslyn’s reflexes have been enhanced in order to allow her reaction time to be far greater than the average human. The messages that travel from her brain to her limbs take far less time to communicate the need to do something, allowing her to react faster and take less time to process situations as they occur. Her heightened reflexes also increase her rate of fire depending on the firearm she is using at the time and aid her well in hand to hand (or overall close range) combat.
Enhanced Trait 2:
Due to her uncanny habit of twitching, whether it is when someone touches her or when she is forced into a fast reaction time too many times in a row, Joslyn attempts not to rely on this ability too much. While engaged in close combat, should she take a particularly hard hit (or a harmful hit in general) her body’s reflex is typically over exaggerated and could potentially cause more harm than good to herself.
Faction: Poltava
Appearance:
Height: 5’7
Weight: 145 lbs
Distinct Feature(s): HeteroChromia (LE Green / RE teal)
Clothing: See second picture for shirt style, typically wearing black jeans or slacks and a pair of black sneakers. Due to her light sensitivity, Joslyn also wears a pair of sunglasses that she rarely takes off.
Personality:
Joslyn prefers to keep to herself when she can, though she is not shy by any means but seems far from approachable due to the fact that she always looks rather mad, even when she is not. Usually very straight forward and blunt, she hates to sugar coat things and is usually the person to go to if you want the hard truth about something. Once one gets past the bluntness and permanent ‘I will kill you’ look, she is overall a fun person to be around who enjoys a good joke just as much as the next person.
Weapons: SR-25 (Semi-automatic special application sniper rifle 7.62x51mm), PMR-30 (.22 magnum), and a few well placed throwing knives.
Equipment:
Emergency Kit Containing:
Bio:
Taken at a young age, Joslyn does not have much of a childhood to remember as she spent most of her years in a facility being put through an array of tests. While she remembers nothing that happened between the ages of 8 and 16, she can remember what few years of clarity she had with her Mother and Father. Both of her parents always seemed to be happy and madly in love with one another, a feeling they also shared with their daughter who never went without. She always went to parks to play with the other local children, a place she assumed she was taken from as she could not remember anything leading up to the week that shew as taken. Despite many attempts to try and recollect the eight years of memories she did not have, she had nothing to show for it as every attempt resulted in a failure.
When she had managed to escape the facility with the Three Kings, Joslyn had attempted to find her family, wanting to go back to them, to let them know that she was ok despite her genetic modifications. When she got to the outside of the house she remembered living in eight years ago, she found it in the state that she had left it, immaculate and well taken care of. However, when she peered inside, she saw only a shadow of the man her father was sitting in front of the television with beer bottles all around him and a young boy pleading for his attention.
Not being able to take the sight before her, she left without so much as knocking on the door and found her way into the Poltava faction. While she could fight if need be, she preferred doing things from afar, or simply not at all as she isn’t much of a violent person unless the situation calls for it. While she finds no pleasure in what was done to her, she could not bring herself to join the faction that actively attacked the government, despite the fact that she blames them for everything that she saw through that window.
At present she volunteers as a sniper when one is needed, doing her part in an attempt to earn her keep with those she decided to join. While she has no issues with remaining in the shadows, even she is aware that there are times when violence is a necessity and when the government is after you, sometimes that necessity happens a lot.
Sex: Female
Age: 17
Experiment Tier: Test Subject
Enhanced Trait 1:
Enhanced Vision:
Josyln’s enhanced Vision allows her to see with almost startling clarity, making it possible for her to pick up on the smallest of details when she is out in the field or simply trying her hardest to blend in and collect intel. Along with her ability to see clearer than the average human, she is also able to see things further away without the aid of a scope, giving her the ability to be an amazing sniper, though she does not classify as the best as she knows there is always someone out there better than herself. While she can see well enough in the dark, if the area is completely devoid of any form of light (i.e moonlight) she is unable to see just like any average human.
Enhanced Trait 1:
Downside: Light Sensitivity
While Joslyn enjoys the perks of being able to see far and in complete clarity, this enhancement caused her to develop an acute sensitivity to light. Due to this, she must always wear sunglasses until nightfall and, unless the room is dim enough, while under artificial lighting. Part of her counts this as a blessing in disguise as it offers her a way to hide her eyes from those who are looking for her, as they are the most notable feature that she maintains. Should she be subjected to bright light (i.e a flash bang) without the proper eye protection, her sight is rendered useless until such a time that her retina’s are able to adjust and right themselves.
Enhanced Trait 2:
Heightened Reflexes
While she is unable to dodge bullets, Joslyn’s reflexes have been enhanced in order to allow her reaction time to be far greater than the average human. The messages that travel from her brain to her limbs take far less time to communicate the need to do something, allowing her to react faster and take less time to process situations as they occur. Her heightened reflexes also increase her rate of fire depending on the firearm she is using at the time and aid her well in hand to hand (or overall close range) combat.
Enhanced Trait 2:
Downside: Twitchy
Due to her uncanny habit of twitching, whether it is when someone touches her or when she is forced into a fast reaction time too many times in a row, Joslyn attempts not to rely on this ability too much. While engaged in close combat, should she take a particularly hard hit (or a harmful hit in general) her body’s reflex is typically over exaggerated and could potentially cause more harm than good to herself.
Faction: Poltava
Appearance:
Height: 5’7
Weight: 145 lbs
Distinct Feature(s): HeteroChromia (LE Green / RE teal)
Clothing: See second picture for shirt style, typically wearing black jeans or slacks and a pair of black sneakers. Due to her light sensitivity, Joslyn also wears a pair of sunglasses that she rarely takes off.
Personality:
Joslyn prefers to keep to herself when she can, though she is not shy by any means but seems far from approachable due to the fact that she always looks rather mad, even when she is not. Usually very straight forward and blunt, she hates to sugar coat things and is usually the person to go to if you want the hard truth about something. Once one gets past the bluntness and permanent ‘I will kill you’ look, she is overall a fun person to be around who enjoys a good joke just as much as the next person.
Weapons: SR-25 (Semi-automatic special application sniper rifle 7.62x51mm), PMR-30 (.22 magnum), and a few well placed throwing knives.
Equipment:
Emergency Kit Containing:
- Lighter
- Compass
- Camelbak
- Disposable Cell Phone
- Emergency Tinder
- Magnesium Starter
- Emergency Rations
- First-Aid Kit (small)
- Canteen
- Aqua Iodine Tablets
- S&W SWAT Knife
- Mini LED Flashlight
- GERBER
Bio:
Taken at a young age, Joslyn does not have much of a childhood to remember as she spent most of her years in a facility being put through an array of tests. While she remembers nothing that happened between the ages of 8 and 16, she can remember what few years of clarity she had with her Mother and Father. Both of her parents always seemed to be happy and madly in love with one another, a feeling they also shared with their daughter who never went without. She always went to parks to play with the other local children, a place she assumed she was taken from as she could not remember anything leading up to the week that shew as taken. Despite many attempts to try and recollect the eight years of memories she did not have, she had nothing to show for it as every attempt resulted in a failure.
When she had managed to escape the facility with the Three Kings, Joslyn had attempted to find her family, wanting to go back to them, to let them know that she was ok despite her genetic modifications. When she got to the outside of the house she remembered living in eight years ago, she found it in the state that she had left it, immaculate and well taken care of. However, when she peered inside, she saw only a shadow of the man her father was sitting in front of the television with beer bottles all around him and a young boy pleading for his attention.
Not being able to take the sight before her, she left without so much as knocking on the door and found her way into the Poltava faction. While she could fight if need be, she preferred doing things from afar, or simply not at all as she isn’t much of a violent person unless the situation calls for it. While she finds no pleasure in what was done to her, she could not bring herself to join the faction that actively attacked the government, despite the fact that she blames them for everything that she saw through that window.
At present she volunteers as a sniper when one is needed, doing her part in an attempt to earn her keep with those she decided to join. While she has no issues with remaining in the shadows, even she is aware that there are times when violence is a necessity and when the government is after you, sometimes that necessity happens a lot.
MinervianGrey The Scholar
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Name: Minerva ????
Sex: Female
Age: ?? Definitely mid-teens
Experiment Tier: Test Subject
Enhanced Trait 1:
Superconducting Fibrification of Neural Dendrites
Increase speed and load of neural pathways in sensory cortexes, leading to better processing and handling of sensory data, sharp contrast between uneffected areas of memory and decision making.
Enhanced Trait 1 Downside:
Damage to hippocampus and amygdala.
Subject's long term memory from before the testing is nonexistant.
Possible, certainly unconfirmed, split 'personality' developed to cope with data rift.
Increase risk of Parkinson's Disease by late 20's.
Enhanced Trait 2:
Increased Sensitivity and Capacity of All Sensory Nerves and Apparatus
50% increase in visual acuity, as well as considerable vision in dark environments, and slight thermal vision if Subject can focus enough.
50% increase in auditory acuity, better range and clarity
50% increase in olfactory acuity, scents more identifiable at increased distances
50% increase in tactile acuity, finer detail in touch, more sensitive to movement and heavier vibration like marching, tank treads, and even muffled speech through doors.
Enhanced Trait 2 Downside:
Unexpected side effects and over-sensitivity
Cartilage and secondary tendons related to the inherent ability to make sound were destroyed as an unintended side effect of chemical testing. Subject is rendered mute.
Natural skin and eye pigment have been destroyed as a result of testing.
Drastic, sudden increase in environmental lighting may severely damage retina.
Drastic, sudden increase in decibels of surroundings may cause severe damage to auditory capability.
Undesirable odors are more pungent to Subject.
Increased sense of taste has developed into a dislike for most foods.
Faction: NARVA
Appearance:
5'0" at ???lbs
Minerva has a pale complexion, with no defined blemishes, not even so much as an unwanted wrinkle. Her hair is often referred to by the younger girls as 'beautiful' or 'shiny', even 'immaculate', and 'really brings out your eyes'. Yes, they refer to her eyes, the fact they have no pigment, making them alluring to little kids and cringe-worthy to most adults. She often chooses to dress herself in her jumpsuit to hide most of her skin, her paleness distasteful to her own eyes, and to help hide her heavily repressed fear of public nudity.
Clothing:
Minerva wears a black, one-piece jumpsuit that is held together by a well hidden zipper along the spine of her back. The gloves are removable, as well as a hair and face guard that stretch up and over their respective areas and are stored in the neck. The jumpsuit is specifically designed for high mobility activity in an urban setting, the joints padded lightly and the majority of the limbs padded even lighter. The torso is covered by an ever so slightly thicker padding wrapped in an almost unnoticeable layer of knife-resistant mesh. The suit is, to some, noticeably form-fitting, acting almost as a second layer of skin. Unbeknownst to the vast majority of people in the underground, Minerva keeps most of the internal straps, especially around the joints, tight, further adding to its formliness.
Personality:
Minerva is an introvert, no way around it due to her lack of speech. This does, however, make her a good listener, and her shoulder seems to be a silently agreed good place to cry. She is incredibly protective of the younger girls, and only joined NARVA to fund her little solo campaign against the government. The rift of speed and data in her brain has caused her higher brain functions to 'separate' themselves from other parts. Her body, under severe stresses, may react without her conscious decision, often leading to less than desirable results and sleepless nights. Often times she will pull more data from her environment than she can handle at once, leading to moments of either panicked looks or deep thought or even mild shock.
Weapons:
10mm SQ-05 "Smart" Pistol
Optional suppressor latched to right side of barrel.
Tactical flashlight underbarrel built in, extending from trigger guard.
Left side of the barrel is a 'nerve center' that identifies acquired targets down range and will 'jerk' the operator's aim to meet targets. Unable to compensate completely unless SQ-05-2 "Smart" Bullets are loaded. Standard 10mm amunition compatible.
"Smart" bullets seek out humanoid targets and aim for vital hits (head, heart, etc.), normally equipped for avoiding certain IFF tags in friendly humanoids, often implanted in military troops and authorized SWAT teams.
SQ-04 "Long Lance" .308 sniper rifle
Bipod underbarrel. Range and trajectory in HUD of the scope, as well as estimated outline of targets.
Optional suppressor attachment.
Equipment:
Minerva carries nothing more than a single spare set of ammunition for her firearms and only one magazine of SQ-05-2 "Smart" Bullets on her person at any time. She relies on NARVA's goodwill and her private stashed supplies to keep her fed and watered and supply her with further ammunition. Due to this system she has become very thrifty with her ammunition and very accurate.
Bio:
Minerva can recall nothing of her life before waking up in the laboratory during the escape. The life she has lived since, however, hasn't been kind.
Minerva escorted groups of the younger, mostly unmodified, test subjects towards the narrowing opportunities of escape, in her last trip she ultimately separated from her group of precious ducklings in attempt to buy time for them to escape. She led a team of special forces sent specifically to eliminate select girls whose modifications would make them difficult to deal with if they managed to escape into the older midtown.
Minerva appreciated the squad's overestimation of her of abilities, their inatentiveness to their rear squadmate's ability to breath, their talkative attitude about their mission, and their rear squadmate's sidearm. Needless to say, Minerva got away with both her new name and a new weapon due to their incompetence, if only she were always so lucky. For nearly a month afterward she spent all her time alone, or among the clean corpses of the original, less organized search parties sent to sweep the outer city in search of GMGs.
As things settled into a more 'public eyes denied' stance from the government, Minerva found herself increasingly outclassed as a lone girls fighting for the freedom for those who couldn't (yada yada yada), and joined NARVA, providing her with intel, ammo, and clear objectives. But working in teams, developing bonds -even with the noncombatant girls- was too hard. Part of it was her overprotectiveness of those she cared about, the rest was simply her occasionally rage-incuding inability to speak.
Regardless, she learned the honestly impressive scope of where GMGs could hide or resupply, and learned a few faces. Apparently, most of NARVA knew of her as well. She wasn't famous, certainly no figurehead of anti-GMG propaganda like The Fist, by she was known by the growing efforts of both sides of the conflict. Minerva had mixed feelings about that.
The next few months brewed almost everything short of a house-to-house search by the nation's armed forces in the ghettos and slums, major intersections becoming identity checkpoints, public water spouts under surveillance, and, more relevant to Minerva, sniper cover in predetermined locations for moving less armored units such as SWAT or VIPs.
NARVA supplied her with intel on the positions, she took care of them.
Due to this common knowledge track record and her reserved attitude towards most people, Minerva is mostly seen as an 'all-work-no-play' figure amongst her equals.
Sex: Female
Age: ?? Definitely mid-teens
Experiment Tier: Test Subject
Enhanced Trait 1:
Superconducting Fibrification of Neural Dendrites
Increase speed and load of neural pathways in sensory cortexes, leading to better processing and handling of sensory data, sharp contrast between uneffected areas of memory and decision making.
Enhanced Trait 1 Downside:
Damage to hippocampus and amygdala.
Subject's long term memory from before the testing is nonexistant.
Possible, certainly unconfirmed, split 'personality' developed to cope with data rift.
Increase risk of Parkinson's Disease by late 20's.
Enhanced Trait 2:
Increased Sensitivity and Capacity of All Sensory Nerves and Apparatus
50% increase in visual acuity, as well as considerable vision in dark environments, and slight thermal vision if Subject can focus enough.
50% increase in auditory acuity, better range and clarity
50% increase in olfactory acuity, scents more identifiable at increased distances
50% increase in tactile acuity, finer detail in touch, more sensitive to movement and heavier vibration like marching, tank treads, and even muffled speech through doors.
Enhanced Trait 2 Downside:
Unexpected side effects and over-sensitivity
Cartilage and secondary tendons related to the inherent ability to make sound were destroyed as an unintended side effect of chemical testing. Subject is rendered mute.
Natural skin and eye pigment have been destroyed as a result of testing.
Drastic, sudden increase in environmental lighting may severely damage retina.
Drastic, sudden increase in decibels of surroundings may cause severe damage to auditory capability.
Undesirable odors are more pungent to Subject.
Increased sense of taste has developed into a dislike for most foods.
Faction: NARVA
Appearance:
5'0" at ???lbs
Minerva has a pale complexion, with no defined blemishes, not even so much as an unwanted wrinkle. Her hair is often referred to by the younger girls as 'beautiful' or 'shiny', even 'immaculate', and 'really brings out your eyes'. Yes, they refer to her eyes, the fact they have no pigment, making them alluring to little kids and cringe-worthy to most adults. She often chooses to dress herself in her jumpsuit to hide most of her skin, her paleness distasteful to her own eyes, and to help hide her heavily repressed fear of public nudity.
Clothing:
Minerva wears a black, one-piece jumpsuit that is held together by a well hidden zipper along the spine of her back. The gloves are removable, as well as a hair and face guard that stretch up and over their respective areas and are stored in the neck. The jumpsuit is specifically designed for high mobility activity in an urban setting, the joints padded lightly and the majority of the limbs padded even lighter. The torso is covered by an ever so slightly thicker padding wrapped in an almost unnoticeable layer of knife-resistant mesh. The suit is, to some, noticeably form-fitting, acting almost as a second layer of skin. Unbeknownst to the vast majority of people in the underground, Minerva keeps most of the internal straps, especially around the joints, tight, further adding to its formliness.
Personality:
Minerva is an introvert, no way around it due to her lack of speech. This does, however, make her a good listener, and her shoulder seems to be a silently agreed good place to cry. She is incredibly protective of the younger girls, and only joined NARVA to fund her little solo campaign against the government. The rift of speed and data in her brain has caused her higher brain functions to 'separate' themselves from other parts. Her body, under severe stresses, may react without her conscious decision, often leading to less than desirable results and sleepless nights. Often times she will pull more data from her environment than she can handle at once, leading to moments of either panicked looks or deep thought or even mild shock.
Weapons:
10mm SQ-05 "Smart" Pistol
Optional suppressor latched to right side of barrel.
Tactical flashlight underbarrel built in, extending from trigger guard.
Left side of the barrel is a 'nerve center' that identifies acquired targets down range and will 'jerk' the operator's aim to meet targets. Unable to compensate completely unless SQ-05-2 "Smart" Bullets are loaded. Standard 10mm amunition compatible.
"Smart" bullets seek out humanoid targets and aim for vital hits (head, heart, etc.), normally equipped for avoiding certain IFF tags in friendly humanoids, often implanted in military troops and authorized SWAT teams.
SQ-04 "Long Lance" .308 sniper rifle
Bipod underbarrel. Range and trajectory in HUD of the scope, as well as estimated outline of targets.
Optional suppressor attachment.
Equipment:
Minerva carries nothing more than a single spare set of ammunition for her firearms and only one magazine of SQ-05-2 "Smart" Bullets on her person at any time. She relies on NARVA's goodwill and her private stashed supplies to keep her fed and watered and supply her with further ammunition. Due to this system she has become very thrifty with her ammunition and very accurate.
Bio:
Minerva can recall nothing of her life before waking up in the laboratory during the escape. The life she has lived since, however, hasn't been kind.
Minerva escorted groups of the younger, mostly unmodified, test subjects towards the narrowing opportunities of escape, in her last trip she ultimately separated from her group of precious ducklings in attempt to buy time for them to escape. She led a team of special forces sent specifically to eliminate select girls whose modifications would make them difficult to deal with if they managed to escape into the older midtown.
Minerva appreciated the squad's overestimation of her of abilities, their inatentiveness to their rear squadmate's ability to breath, their talkative attitude about their mission, and their rear squadmate's sidearm. Needless to say, Minerva got away with both her new name and a new weapon due to their incompetence, if only she were always so lucky. For nearly a month afterward she spent all her time alone, or among the clean corpses of the original, less organized search parties sent to sweep the outer city in search of GMGs.
As things settled into a more 'public eyes denied' stance from the government, Minerva found herself increasingly outclassed as a lone girls fighting for the freedom for those who couldn't (yada yada yada), and joined NARVA, providing her with intel, ammo, and clear objectives. But working in teams, developing bonds -even with the noncombatant girls- was too hard. Part of it was her overprotectiveness of those she cared about, the rest was simply her occasionally rage-incuding inability to speak.
Regardless, she learned the honestly impressive scope of where GMGs could hide or resupply, and learned a few faces. Apparently, most of NARVA knew of her as well. She wasn't famous, certainly no figurehead of anti-GMG propaganda like The Fist, by she was known by the growing efforts of both sides of the conflict. Minerva had mixed feelings about that.
The next few months brewed almost everything short of a house-to-house search by the nation's armed forces in the ghettos and slums, major intersections becoming identity checkpoints, public water spouts under surveillance, and, more relevant to Minerva, sniper cover in predetermined locations for moving less armored units such as SWAT or VIPs.
NARVA supplied her with intel on the positions, she took care of them.
Due to this common knowledge track record and her reserved attitude towards most people, Minerva is mostly seen as an 'all-work-no-play' figure amongst her equals.
Name: Adrian Vance
Sex: Male
Age: 28
Faction: Slumlord-bartender
Appearance: Da.
Clothing: See "Da."
Personality: Crusty exterior, with a side of wise-sass. But underneath all that genuinely cares for the welfare of his patrons.
Weapons: Pump Shotgun, fists, bad langrage.
Equipment: He runs a bar, so he's got a pretty good selection of craft-beers and hard-liquors via some fermentation-vats and a still. He's also got a grill, a deep-fryer, and a seldom-used coffee-maker somewhere in the back.
Bio:
Working on it. Jeeze, why do you always have to be so negative?
Sex: Male
Age: 28
Faction: Slumlord-bartender
Appearance: Da.
Clothing: See "Da."
Personality: Crusty exterior, with a side of wise-sass. But underneath all that genuinely cares for the welfare of his patrons.
Weapons: Pump Shotgun, fists, bad langrage.
Equipment: He runs a bar, so he's got a pretty good selection of craft-beers and hard-liquors via some fermentation-vats and a still. He's also got a grill, a deep-fryer, and a seldom-used coffee-maker somewhere in the back.
Bio:
Working on it. Jeeze, why do you always have to be so negative?
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