Name: Jonah Fallen
Nickname/Alias: No
Race: Human
Age: 21
Ethnicity: East German on his mother's side, Russian on his father's side. He's also part polish and 1/15th Indian(not Native American) from his great grandmother.
Gender: Male
Appearance:


Jonah is a light skinned male standing at 6'1 with toned muscles from working and his training. He has dirty blonde hair that he likes to keep short and sweet blue eyes that are usually seen sharpening at things he finds annoying. Along with those penetrating blues, he wears a set of thick rimmed glasses and keeps a small “glasses cleaning kit” in his pocket when ever maintenance is required. Despite working out daily, he appears as an average looking young man when wearing long sleeves since he focuses more on toning his muscles rather than having huge ones. His slightly chiseled features are smooth but he has some hair on his stomach.

Clothing: He likes to keep things simple so he'll often be seen in a plain shirt and some jeans, he doesn't lean towards one color over the rest but is often seen in black or blue since his mother used to tell him it fit him best. He prefers short sleeved shirts and long pants but will change that up if it becomes uncomfortable to move in. For that same reason, he often sports sneakers as they are easy to move around in.



Personality: Jonah has an independent personality, he strives to be the best he can be because that's all he knows how to be. He keeps a cool head under pressure and always does his best to figure out the best solution to the problem at hand. He doesn't believe in good or evil, stating that all things are objectively of the same value. Often quiet unless spoken to, Jonah keeps an air of contemplation about himself and makes a note to distance himself from others so that they don't become a liability. While this method can supply an incredibly sturdy strength, Jonah's logical outlook can at times give way to his inter turmoils.

See, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he is not always as cool as he thinks he is. While strong and independent, Jonah's attempts at apathy hides the fact that he does care about the people around him. His emotions are often the one thing he believes holds him back but they often supply more to his motives than he'll let on. Never to show fear, never to admit defeat, Jonah's logical thoughts can turn to mush when faced with having to deal with some of his inner-demons.

Likes: Books that make you think about things. Silence.
Dislikes: Stupid people. Self righteousness.
Fears: That his rationality is just cowardice, that he's simply avoiding his greater emotions and is a hypocrite for telling people to not be controlled by them when he's letting them force him to flee from himself.
Quirks: He loves to read, mainly books on philosophy which can sometimes overlap with books on strategy though most books on the art of war were destroyed. When upset or feeling unhinged, he'll take to cleaning his glasses to regain a form of control over his person.



History: Jonah grew up in a small apartment in a not-so-friendly part of the city. It wasn't perfect but he had what he needed. His parents, on the other hand, were not quite as okay with their arrangement as he was. Starting from the womb, his parents pressured him to be the golden-child that would sky rocket them to the big times!

Whether it was mathematics or sports, Jonah was told that he had to succeed to make life worth living for his family. He followed every rule but still slipped up, receiving negative reinforcement when he did so. But, eventually, he began to catch his stride. He started winning soccer games and getting A's on his tests and suddenly the negative reinforcement stopped. He was happy, his parents were happy, everything was better.

Until he started hating his activities, started getting tired of waking up and never doing the things he wanted. At first, he hated this turning in his stomach because he loved his parents but he still couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him so mad at them some times.

He didn't have friends to talk to so he sought knowledge in his books. The library was a short walk from his home so he'd spend as much time as he could just reading.

He had a love for philosophy and thinking and used ideals he learned to come to the conclusion that what was happening to him wasn't a bad thing, it was just a “thing” and that him giving way to subjective beliefs was what was causing him problems internally. Eventually he began to distance himself from his parents until he didn't see them as his parents anymore, he saw them as just another problem. By the time he was ten years old, he had developed a form of detached apathy, a learned behavior he adopted to keep his emotions in check. Suddenly, he didn't smile as much. He didn't laugh at all and he didn't speak quite as much as he used to. He was only a child but he got better at rationalizing with age and by the time Galatec seized complete control, he was already stead-fast in his thought process.

Besides, honestly, life didn't really change when they arrived, not for him any way. His parents went to work and left him with his books, though the material was now more about how to serve the greater good than anything else. They confiscated his other books on philosophical thinking and mathematics, apparently those were “dangerous books that brought about dangerous thoughts”. He grew up in that situation, unaware of how much the world was going to continue to change.

Time went on, and just as he thought, people began to cope with the change. It had been years, and like all things that occur, what was once “horrible tragedy” became “yesterday”. Life was in a constant state of flux and he wouldn't let such a fact break his concentration.

His mother, now a widow after the passing of her late-husband, pushed Jonah to make a name for himself in the new society, she saw that he was different than everyone else now and thought she could bank on it. Jonah agreed because he didn't want to be thought of as expendable, besides, working hard was how he made it through life, keeping his center is how he survived. He had to keep a rational mind and continue moving forward.

And that's exactly what he did.

He began working as soon as possible, Galatec didn't care about age so long as their workers knew what they were doing. Eventually, he stood out and worked his way up, volunteering for the riskier parts of the job until he was being looked at by the higher ups. He refused to sit idle, not for honor or pride but because he knew that he only got one chance at life, knew what it meant to waste time and effort.

Through it all, he kept his composure. He rationalized everything he saw, closed his eyes and reminded himself about the philosophies he put his trust in because that's all he had to stand by. Maybe he had problems with the blank eyes of some of the other workers, maybe he would be up at night, trying to see why his own eyes still flickered with life, maybe he wondered about the girl he once saw with the same eyes as him. But that didn't matter, work mattered, staying alive mattered. “You don't get second chances at life.” He reminded himself on those nights. “Galatec is in control, there is nothing you can do, don't be illogical, keep yourself centered...” Like that, every day. “What is is, and what is not is not.” They were truths, he could rely on truths. He just couldn't stand with them in his entirety. After all, he was still human.

When the opportunity arose, Jonah volunteered for bodyguard duty, knowing that it meant he'd be given martial training and hoping it would supply a better standing for himself and, by extension, his mother. He was healthy enough, had a strong build from staying fit so he didn't have much trouble being selected. His training went by pretty easily as he took rather well to punching things into submission, perhaps due to some seriously repressed rage?

Whose to say?

After the initial adrenaline of letting loose for the first time wore off, he began practicing more at home, honing his reflexes as best he could. While not a god of the martial arts, he was able to prove himself worthy enough to stand guard for some big shots in the corporation. It didn't involve much, just watching and waiting for anything to slide by, a pretty simple procedure. As time went on, he did his work well, making a small name for himself with the others in his profession. It was an easy life really, easier than manual labor though how he trained at home, you'd think other wise but he still felt an unease about himself .

One of which was when he first met a member of the rebels, a group that had yet to come to terms with what was and tried to ruin the status quo. Didn't they understand the feedback of what they were doing, how nothing changed but the amount of panic they caused to minor citizens?

He had been on a regular patrol when he saw one, a rebel running from some other guards. He moved to assist but noticed that he recognized her, she was the girl with eyes like his, eyes still flickering with life. He wasn't sure why, but he let her pass, let a dangerous rebel pass by without a fight. She looked at him at as she ran by, first with confusion and then with a small smile continued on her way. He didn't realize it until turning around to see his reflection in a window, didn't even recognize the unfamiliar sensation...

But he had a smile on his face as he watched her disappear around a corner....

After the encounter, he moved out of his old home and got a small apartment, feeling that the connections he had were clouding his judgment. Something about having to see his mother's eyes made him nervous so by 20 he was gone. Before he left, he promised her that he'd keep doing his best, though he didn't see the point in the ritual since he planned to do so anyway. His life was steady, to a degree but all of that, his worries and his real desire, came to a front when he was faced with a life changing decision.

It had been so normal, training had gone well and nothing out of the ordinary had shown up as he escorted his charge through the street. Until suddenly, everything went to hell. Someone blew a bullhorn and a fire erupted on his left, a bit distraction for the person running towards the target, his charge. The attacker, a masked assailant ran in a panicked frenzy with a scream of desperation. They were part of the rebellion. Obviously, the attack failed, Jonah struck their weapon to the ground before a sharp low kick knocked away their legs and they were falling to ground. The assailant scrambled to their feet and began to scurry away, Jonah gave chase and they made their way all the way out to the coal mines.

“Stop chasing me!” The assailant shouted as they jumped into the large ditch where the entrance was located. The masked fighter tripped on their landing and fell with a huff. As Jonah followed suit, landing in a roll, the attacker made one last lunge that Jonah quickly put a stop to when he threw them to the ground with one arm twisted behind their back. “Let me go!”

“You are weaker than me, you should have been prepared for this outcome.” He responded as he pulled off her mask to reveal....
The girl with eyes like his.

Yes, the girl he had let go earlier came back, the one he used to see when he thought about the life he was living came back after failing once already. Why did she come back, why didn't she learn her lesson and why was he thinking about letting her go again. Why did seeing this person fighting still make his heart stop a second, make him think about what he could be doing differently.

“I know you, you're the guy who let me by the last time.” She said in realization.

“And you're the one who was dumb enough to go and come back after getting a second chance at life.” He responded, deadpan as he pulled her to her feet.

“What point is there to life if you can't make your own choices.” She retorted with a strange fire in her eyes. She broke out of the grip and glared at him. “You and I have the same eyes you should see things a lot clearer.”

“Don't you understand, the war's already over.” He responded coolly. “This isn't your last pitch effort to save the world, we're not one city away from being under their control and you aren't the last key to the puzzle.” His steely blue eyes cut through her. “We've lost, the invasion you're trying stop? That's come and gone and people have moved on with their lives, what is is and what is not is not so stop living in a fairy tale world and get it together or you won't even have a life to cry about.” Those were the facts, the rebels should know that. Galatec was already in control, there wasn't a war to fight anymore, all that was left were lives to live as best as possible. Throwing yourself into a self-righteous ideal only serves to get you killed and there's no coming back from that. “Clearly, it was a mistake to let you go, I won't make it again.”

“Okay,” She still had a smile on her face though. “than why am I not being turned in right now?” And then he had to be quiet as her smirk grew. “Why do I know that you're never going to turn me in?” She walked up close and never broke eye contact. “It's because you know what they'll do to me, don't you?”She took a step forward and he took one back. “You get how that's wrong, and you care.” She stepped passed him and he turned his head but didn't move to stop her. “Ya know, a guy like you could do something if he wanted, way more than me.” She climbed out of the hole before turning to look down at him and give a quick and playful salute. “Maybe stop trying to make sense of the situation and find out what you really believe, you're a human so you should act like one!” She ran off around yet another corner, leaving him to his thoughts.

“ Shit..” He said to himself.

Why did he let her let go...again!?

Why did he smile the last the time, why doesn't he feel bad about doing it now? Maybe it was an idiotic thing to give up on the ideals of right and wrong, maybe he had been idiotic about a lot of things. He had tried doing it his way for as long as he could remember, it was how he survived but was surviving and living the same thing or was he making them the same so he could deal with the situation? What were his real motives for his way of thinking, how much was logic and how much was fear?

He stood there at the entrance of the mine, thinking to himself about what he'd do next.

Talents: Logical thinking, more than anything else. Jonah may be good at fighting but that's a skill, his true talent, which could be considered the back bone of all his skills, is his logical mindset which gives him the ability to strike precisely and plan accordingly.
Hindrances: Empathizing, holding his temper, admitting he was wrong, and expressing himself.
Equipment: Morpher(Blue Ranger). A normal combat knife he keeps on him for special occasions and his glasses/glasses cleaning kit.



Quotes: “What is is, and what is not is not.”
Theme Song: nope
Aspiration: To find out what he really wants in life.

Name: Michael Sonnen.
Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother).
Race: Human.
Age: 20.
Ethnicity: African American.
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye.

Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious.

Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions.

Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal.

Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different.

Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs.

Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think,

This isn't right...

Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought.

Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off.

His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered.

"Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-"

It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself.

Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often.

Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it?

Powers: None.

Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Quotes: "We fight for today!"
Theme Song: Throne
Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones.



Color Designation: Red
Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung.
Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently.
Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets.
Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes.
Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty.

"Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you."

She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that.

By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic.

His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on.

Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening.

Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns.

"Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself.