Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by YoshiSkittlez







Name: Deon Desmond Saunders
Nickname: Darth
Gender: Male
Age: 24

Occupation: Cage Fighter at The Spit
District: 4 (by invitation)

Height: 5’11”
Weight: 168 lbs

Appearance:


Personality:
Deon is a merciless, cut-throat, brutal male that could be described as selfish and self-centered in almost all instances. He only looks out for himself which he often-times refers to as 'number one' and will stop at nothing to prove that he is better than everyone else. His hardened exterior can be chipped away though when a woman or two come into play, as he is a bit of a womanizer and has a pretty high sexual drive. He will, however, never put a woman in too high of a priority level, especially when his reputation is on the line of being a ‘bad boy.’

He holds no remorse for those he injures while fighting in the ring and on more than one occasion has attacked with a more powerful purpose than to simply injure or knock unconscious. It is said that Deon holds a certain, animalistic rage when he fights which has kept him champion even when he was outmatched. He laughs at his pain, showing no weakness and many times others have often wondered if he is even human.

Biography:
Deon was the first born to Riley Saunders in the low levels of District 17. She was only seventeen herself but somehow, she managed to raise him on her own (the father mysteriously absent since conception and never, ever talked about) until Riley met another man who stepped in as Deon's step-father at the age of 4. Two years later, and Riley had another child, a girl this time and Deon's step-sister he grew incredibly close to.

Just as life seemed that it could be manageable in District 17, Deon's step-father was killed when returning home from work by a small-time gang that really wanted his wallet. Unable to make ends meet for her two, young children, Deon took it upon himself to drop out of school and find employment to help out. This robbed him completely of any childhood he might have had left, becoming a man years before puberty even hit.

At first Deon was just a messenger boy, delivering secret messages to organization members in the lower districts that were more than a bit sketchy, but he knew better than to ask questions. The pay was poor and he was lucky if he didn’t get beaten or molested by his boss on a daily basis, even if he delivered on time and didn't warrant any punishment. As Deon entered his teen years, however, he left the job as a messenger boy and started working in a slaughter house, butchering up the livestock into fresh meat for his district to purchase at ridiculous prices.

Deon quickly grew desensitized to animal life and the longer he remained working at the slaughter house, the more creative he would get in just how to kill the livestock before butchering; even going as far as 'not noticing' the animal wasn't completely dead before butchering it up. After just a few years, he grew bored of killing animals however, and when he was 18 he got a job fighting in the ring at a local bar for entertainment purposes. It was probably illegal, the things he was doing and allowed to do. But nobody really cared what went on in District 17 anymore. He found that fighting others was something he enjoyed, even if a bit too much.

Now known somewhat famously throughout the district and certainly bringing in more customers during the night, he earned a comfortable amount of money to provide for both his mamma and sister. But once again, just as things were starting to look up (even having saved up enough to buy his family's way into District 12), his whole world came crashing down in a way that would forever change his life.

Coming home from work one night after a very successful victory, Deon found the house to be incredibly quiet on the outside. The door was kicked in, the front windows shattered, and immediately he knew something was wrong. Upon investigation, he found his mamma and sister dead in his mamma's bed, stabbed maliciously, strangled, beaten, tortured, even possibly raped. Their bodies were still warm, his mother's arms wrapping protectively around his step-sister's body as though she were trying to shield her but to no avail.

Deon didn't stick around long, however. If the bodies were still warm, that meant their killer wasn't too far away. He bolted from the house and followed his heart, finding a man nearly a foot taller than him running with a bloodied knife. Outraged, Deon took the man, concealed by the shadows, down and let his emotions get the best of him. It was a terrible mistake. He was sloppy, and the man had Deon on his back within seconds. With the same bloodied knife used to kill his family, the criminal sliced through the skin of Deon's head, starting at the tip of his brow and dragged the blade as far to the back of his head he could go, aiming to scalp Deon all the way around. The criminal was forced to stop, however, as the flashing lights of a police car scared him off. Too weak to pursue, Deon forced himself up and managed to slip away to lick his (emotional) wounds and learn from his mistakes. He refused to seek treatment for the injury, deeming it a physical reminder for him to remember forever.

Unable to bear their memories any longer, Deon used up what money he had left after their respected funerals and moved up from district 17 to district 4 with his younger cousin who had to go through a whole slew of paperwork to make the move legal. It almost didn't even work, but the brain-power and tenacity of his cousin eventually won in the end. Even with the new promise of a better life, Deon couldn't help but to accept a job offer in Zone Beta as a cage fighter for 'The Spit'. The commute doesn't bother Deon much and he has the credentials to travel between zones. He can't help but to feel grateful to get out of the 'rich' neighborhood once in a while. The life of his cousin just simply wasn't the life for him.

Deon has lived in District 4 for nearly a year now, but the emotional wound that Deon carries is still as heavy as the day he found his family murdered in their own home.

Other:
Deon is an avid smoker and never passes up an opportunity to get drunk off his ass even when expected to fight that day. He has a whole slew of connections to the harder drugs which he will often-times deal and even use when his body isn't up to par for a fight. He is amply known to sell drugs to women for sexual favors instead of money since he has plenty of it already.

Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by YoshiSkittlez





Name: Katherine Riley Saunders
Nicknames: Kate, Katie
Gender: Female
Age: 22

Occupation: Student in Robopsychology and Mechanics
District: 4 (Born)

Height: 5'10"
Weight: 123 lbs

Appearance:


Personality:
Kate is exceptionally introverted, having never truly developed social skills as a child. She was always working on projects on her own, never a 'child' but always a braniac, rendering her 'weird' to her fellow classmates. Even as an adult when sitting in on the most important of seminars, she takes no part in the hectic discussion periods that follow. She keeps up the front of a frosty girl, plain and colorless, who protects herself against a world she dislikes by a mask-like expression and a hypertrophy of intellect. Though on the inside, she does indeed feel the stirrings of a cold enthusiasm.

Often times, she is approached for her professional opinion on robots and is repeatedly asked, "Are robots so different from men?" in which she always replies, "Worlds different. Robots are essentially decent." To those who don't know her personally, her misanthropy seems largely unexplained however those whom have known her for a long period of time or have worked with her before know that her attitudes are rather well-founded.

She is a small woman, but there is a towering strength in her face. Tensile strength, that speaks to endurance, to maintaining in the imperfect world. Her mouth is thin, and her face pale. Grace lives in her features, and intelligence; but she is not an attractive woman. She is not one of those women who in later years it can be said of them, 'She must have been a beauty when she was younger.' Kate is simply plain but makes up for it with her powerful personality.

Biography:
Katherine, or Kate as she prefers to be called, was born and raised in the fourth district with a very comfortable life. She had good parents, a great childhood as an only child, a stable home, and a bright future. As a child, Kate’s imagination and prowess seemed to know no bounds. At first her teachers were rather worried about her intangible ability to ‘think outside the box’ at such an early age, but they later began to embrace it as she got older and joined clubs like the spelling bee or science club and continually brought home the blue ribbon for her school.

All through the rest of her school days, Kate remained ‘stuck’ to the science club, earning the interest of many different colleges as just a Sophomore to join their science department. At 16, Kate wrote her first of many papers on robotics, a Physics-1 paper entitled 'Practical Aspects of Robotics'. This was after attending a Psycho-Math seminar within District 0 in which she received a personal invitation from the Governor himself to attend as his guest. Despite the wishes of the colleges and interest from District 0, Kate remained as ‘normal’ as she could and continued her education, graduating with the rest of her class where the selection of schools were waiting for her - full ride.

Kate’s main area of study and experience resides in cybernetics, learning to construct positronic brains that responds to given stimuli that can be accurately predicted. She only has half a term left before graduating with her bachelors, but already District 0 has a job lined up for her as the first ever robopsychologist where she would be permitted to continue to study for her PhD.

When not working on school projects, Kate works on more personal ones. She has a few prototypes of her own design within her home which proved to work better than a security system since she was broken into shortly before her cousin came to move in with her. The ‘prototype’ had successfully stuck the robber with a sleep dart, rendering him completely unconscious until Kate was able to call the cops after getting an alert on her phone about the break-in. Since her cousin has moved in, however, there have been a few accidents of a 'mistaken intruder' which she has currently been working on to fix.

Other:
While perceived as a 'boring' type of girl, Kate does enjoy her scotch after a long day, though as expected, she has never had any sort of romantic relationship with anyone and doesn't appear to be interested in changing that any time soon despite her mother's badgerings.

Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by Mach2




<Name:/> Vander Pzypialkowski
<Nickname(s):/> N/A
<Gender:/> Female
<Age:/> 19 yrs, 10 months

<Occupation:/> Ex-student. Part-time dealer, full-time addict.
<District:/> 16

<Height:/> 5'10"
<Weight:/> 116 lbs

<Appearance:/>


At first glance, Vander is unhealthy. Thin, with bags under her eyes and a tired posture. But look a little closer, and you'll see just how sorry a state she's truly in. An addiction to Lucid has left her as a walking skeleton. Although she's tall, she weighs barely eight stone. She is skin, bone, and quickly-decaying muscle. Lucid has long since burned away any hint of fat on her body. Beneath her clothing, the ridges of her spine and collarbone stick out like mountains. She needs a belt to keep her too-large jeans from sliding off her bony hips.

But despite the sorry state of her body, Vander is young. And hidden in the face of an addict are small details hinting that, under different circumstances, she could have been attractive. She has strong cheekbones, shapely eyebrows, a charming smile and an even more charming laugh. Her eyes are dark, a brown so deep it appears nearly black, with wide pupils.

Vander was born and raised in Zone Beta, and it presents itself in her sense of style. Her clothes are worn-out grunge with a heavy punk flair. Black jeans are held up by a studded belt, and complimented by a small collection of raglan shirts with the logos of varying rock and punk bands. Her face is adorned with several piercings; a silver brow stud, a trail of cartilage piercings through each ear, and heavily gauged ears. She doesn't remember the night that she elected to shave the left side of her hair off. It was sometime around the formation of her Lucid habit, but she's chosen to maintain the style.

<Personality:/>
Despite a hardcore and edgy appearance, Vander is typically one of the sweetest people you'll come across. She's quiet and reserved, and avoids confrontation. She was homeschooled, and is still tremendously intelligent. She was sixteen when she took her graduate tests, and could have been accepted to any Zone Alpha university she chose. During her days as a dealer, she complimented her academic knowledge with a wealth of street smarts to get her through every negotiation she made. People liked Vander, and Vander liked people. Never once did she have a deal go sour.

In prior years, Vander has dabbled in a handful of street drugs. Cocaine gave her a bad high. Emotion tea was all right, but she never really got a feel for it. But Lucid. Lucid, she was hooked a week in, and the addiction has only intensified over time. She knows the drug will kill her, but she tries not to think about it. Because a Lucid addict dies one of two ways - overdose or withdrawal. And neither sounds pleasant.


<Biography:/>
Zone Beta has never been a great place to hail from. District 16, in particular, contains every variety of scum-of-the-Earth. But for Vander, it's home. It's always been home. She was born there, and raised by her father; Dominic Pzypialkowski. A Zone Beta resident who'd settled for a small trade school after failing acceptance to the engineering program at his school of choice. She never learned her mother's name. The woman vanished from her life a week after Vander was born, leaving custody to her father.

For her childhood, home was a corner-apartment on the seventh floor. For the price of rent, it was a nice place. Vander's bedroom window gave her a view straight down one of the busier intersections in Sixteen. At night, the street was bright with neon signage and alive with people. But Vander was far more likely to be found staring at the pages of one of her books than looking at the city's nightlife. From a young age, she was academically gifted. Her father, Dominic, wasn't an unintelligent man. He encouraged her, and homeschooled her himself for many years. But by the time she turned twelve, her knowledge far surpassed what he was capable of teaching, and he turned to private tutors from Zone Alpha.

The Pzypialkowskis never had a nice apartment. They never went out to the movies or sit-down restaurants. Vander's clothes, and her father's, came from thrift stores. But when it came to Vander's education, no expense was spared. And she loved every moment of it. Maths came easily to her. Science even more so. At the age of sixteen, she took her graduate tests and received her high school diploma. In chemistry and biology, her grades put her in the 99th percentile of all New Ancora residents. Overall, she was in the 97th.

The next step should have been obvious. A degree in biochemistry and a lucrative career in Zone Alpha. But Vander wanted the best school, and even if she applied for every scholarship available and drained the college fund her father had set up, the tuition was miles out of reach. So she took a gap year to earn some money.

Vander was seventeen when she entered the drug trade.

She started simple. Easy things. Common things. The kind that anyone could make, but no one wanted to get caught making. She kept it secret from her father, not that he would have suspected. To him, it would have been merely another random science project. It only took a few months for Vander to establish the connections she needed. She snuck into nightclubs, met people, sold a little, and made small money. Then she made more, and her income increased. Enough that she was able to move out and still be able to put money away for school. She took up residency in a small apartment only a few blocks from her home.

One year after she first dipped her toes in the water, she met her business partner. Grey was twenty-five. He was charismatic, he knew the business, and he had a well-established clientele base. And, he liked Vander. Or he said he did, at least. Before too long, they were working together. Vander's chemical knowledge and easygoing personality made her an ideal asset for him. She helped him refine his lab technique, producing higher and purer yields, and worked as a middleman for him. When they weren't doing business, they were lovers.

The relationship was short-lived, but undoubtedly passionate. Grey was the first and only man Vander ever became involved with. Two months after they met, he introduced her to Lucid. The following week was filled with plenty of drugs, incredible highs, and even more incredible sex. And then he was gone, and Vander was left alone to cope with an addiction to one of the deadliest substances in the city.

In the past year, Vander has lost everything. Her savings account, previously full of hope for a college education, instead dwindled faster and faster as her habit became more and more difficult to sustain. She traded in her small apartment for an even smaller studio flat. She is now nineteen years old, and her body is wasting away. Her organs are slowly shutting down. When she isn't on the drug, the stomach cramps and migraine are unbearable. The rent hasn't been paid in two months, and an eviction notice will likely go up soon. She hasn't spoken to her father in a year. But the state of her apartment, her relation with her dad, none of it matters. The only thing Vander is immediately worried about is the fact that her stash of Lucid is dangerously low, and she has no money to replenish it.

<Other:/>
More on Lucid:
Unquestionably, Lucid is considered one of the most dangerous recreational drugs in New Ancora. It is highly addictive, and withdrawals are frequently fatal. Once an addiction is established, the human body metabolizes the drug on a 48 hour cycle. The longer the drug habit is sustained, the more frequently injections are required. Eventually, most deaths come in one of two ways. A miscalculation results in an overdose, or an inability to financially sustain the addiction leads to fatal withdrawal.

Lucid is a mind-altering drug, capable of profoundly increasing sensory perception and mental capacities. Physical symptoms of withdrawal include body aches, tremors, perspiration, and migraines. Psychologically, withdrawal results in the world appearing 'dull' or 'fuzzy', and concentrating on a given task becomes difficult. Long-term usage results in increased metabolism, muscle atrophy, and eventual total organ failure. The prognosis for a casual user is four to five years, on the outside.

Vander's addiction is far from casual. She first encountered the drug a little over a year ago, and hit it hard. Today, her body craves the drug roughly every six hours. Sleeping through the night without a dose is impossible. The drug's effects are less potent, and the withdrawals far worse, than when she first started. At best guess, she has roughly a month before her body shuts down.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by Ghost Shadow



"I have established new parameters now - created my own directives."


<Unit Identification:/> K-9 Mk. 1
<Preferred Designation:/> CERBERUS
<Gender:/> N/A - Male programming and identity
<Age:/> 3

<Occupation:/> N/A - Prototype Artificial Intelligence
<District:/> 4 (Created)

<Height:/> Three-and-a-half feet at the shoulder; five-and-a-half feet in length.
<Weight:/> 214lbs

<Appearance:/>



<Personality:/>
Gifted with an advanced intellect and artificial intelligence, Cerberus is considered one of the first "fully-sentient" machines ever to be created in New Ancora. With his advanced intelligence, Cerberus is capable of utilizing logic, reason, and independent thought, allowing him to solely complete many individual tasks that other machines would be unable to without human assistance.

Created with an AI system somewhat modeled after the human brain (thanks to New Ancora's own Katherine Saunders) Cerberus is capable of comprehending, or at least mimicking certain human emotions; such as curiosity, sarcasm, fondness, affinity, and learning capacity. Whether these emotions are genuine or superficially expressed remains to be seen.

Cerberus often questions the need to fight, especially if it means killing; citing that he "lacks brutality." It is possible that this is a chosen trait by Cerberus, rather than a simple programming defect, as he is shown to posses compassion and concern for others, despite his artificial nature. This is partly why the K-9 Program was deemed a failure, as Cerberus lacked the drive or will to cause necessary casualties to complete missions.

Despite his mild nature, however, Cerberus is highly protective of those he deems under his care; and has no qualms in assaulting or even killing those who pose a threat to his charges.

Cerberus is incredibly well-educated in human psychology, philosophy, and history, having archived many Extranet sites on the topics. Though, despite his knowledge, Cerberus does not seem to fully comprehend certain figures of speech; such as metaphors, hyperboles, understatements, or similes.

Cerberus seems to possess a certain amount of wit as well, with a fondness for thinly-veiled sarcasm. That said, on occasion jokes will fly completely over Cerberus' head, and he will take the thesis of such jokes literally.

Lastly, though he is a highly advanced synthetic, Cerberus's programming does grants him dog-like behavioral tendencies as well, such as a fondness for climbing on furniture, showing specific affinity towards a single human individual, wagging his tail when pleased, or simply lounging about when inactive, amongst other behavioral traits.

<Equipment:/>
Due to being built more for reconnaissance and scouting purposes, Cerberus lacks the heavy weaponry found in more front-line units. For range, Cerberus is equipped with a variety of spring-loaded high-frequency knives, superheated to the point they can sear through metal. These knives are thrown via Cerberus' manipulator tail, and can reach incredible velocities when thrown. For melee purposes, Cerberus' body is equipped with knife-like blades attached to the underside of each leg, blade-like claws, and sharp canine teeth that make him extremely deadly up-close.

Combat aside, Cerberus is equipped with a built-in stealth camouflage unit. When activated, the unit will bend light waves around Cerberus' frame, rendering him virtually invisible. Likewise, he is capable of picking up and playing various radio systems, and comes with an audio-playback feature that allows him to record and replay any audio he was currently present for.

<Combat Schematics:/>


<Biography:/>
To say Cerberus's creation was a secret is a disputable claim. For many years there have been rumors of the New Ancoran government beginning to prioritize the creation of fully-functioning, fully-sentient AI, though for many years these rumors remained only that. The K-9 Mk. 1 Unit was created 3 years ago to serve as a combat and reconnaissance unit aiding the New Ancoran Police Department and Bureau of Defense. By impermissibly using design schematics and neuro-AI software developed by Katherine Saunders, a science and robotics development team led by Doctors William Mars and Johann Clark proceeded with the construction of Cerberus, eventually implanting the software into a state-of-the-art canine platform.

Initially, Cerberus exceeded all expectations, not only displaying self-awareness, but a vast amount of intelligence and logical reasoning, as well as the ability to converse freely with the scientists when supplied with a vocabulator program. Transferred to its current, more advanced platform, Cerberus was then assigned basic training field work involving mock scenarios and scripts. However, issues began to spring up when Cerberus began questioning the need to take orders, the need to follow missions and kill whoever it (or "he" by its own designation) was ordered to. This caused a series of attempted revamps and memory wipes, though the science team soon discovered that Cerberus' own memory was as resilient as a human mind, and thus could not be erased so easily.

This caused Cerberus himself to become misanthropic and cynical in his views of humanity, being subject to their cruelty influenced by scientific discovery. Yet this all changed the day Cerberus was introduced to Dr. Mars's own teenage daughter, River, who suffered from chronic, debilitating depression. Dr. Mars felt it suitable that she have a companion, and dubbed Cerberus an informal therapy assistant while the rest of the team attempted to rectify his pacifistic nature.

Though initially finding the work demeaning, Cerberus soon grew close to River, who saw him as a close companion and friend. The two formed an incredibly close bond that went beyond simply human-and-machine. Cerberus believed that he was helping guide River back from the brink of depression and giving her hope again -- but even he could only do so much.

One fateful day, after one of their many visits, when River was preparing to leave for the evening, she gave Cerberus an incredibly heartfelt goodbye - as though she were going away for some time. Cerberus was perplexed but thought nothing of the matter, simply bidding her a "Good night." And an, "Again tomorrow." She said nothing, simply leaving with a tear rolling down her cheek.

That very next day, before the sun had even risen, Cerberus received the news that River Mars had committed suicide by overdose of medication late the night before.

Devastated, and with no one to blame or hold responsible, Dr. Mars held Cerberus solely accountable for his daughter's suicide and, as punishment, began putting him through an intensive series of impossible scenarios, forcing him to constantly fail time after time after time until Cerberus believed himself to be a complete failure of the K-9 process.

Content that he had translated all his own self-loathing and hatred into Cerberus, Dr. Mars let the AI be, and resigned to drown in his own sorrow.

Cerberus remained active during this time, though never participated in any more tests or scenarios, instead being used to patrol the science facility by the remaining scientists there.

With no designated master and a free will, Cerberus, upon accessing his memory banks recalled mention of one 'Katherine Saunders' having been the one to create his AI unit. Deciding to go find her, Cerberus fled the science facility in search of her, leaving no trace behind as to his whereabouts.

<Other:/>
  • Cerberus Voice Sample
  • Due to Cerberus's AI being comparable to that of a human brain's, he is capable of suffering from the robot equivalent of dreams and 'nightmares', periods where his fondest and worst memories replay themselves rapidly while he's in a resting stand-by mode. During these times, he will typically go sit by himself to ponder for a few hours before attempting to enter standby mode once more.
  • Cerberus appears to hold the memory of River Mars close to him, and any mention of her will prompt a unique reaction from him, though he will never explain why.
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by Delta44

"Sooooooo this is the big city everyone on the outside has been talkin' about, huh? Damn... You guys have a nice place 'ere."




<Name:/>
Markus Jones
<Nickname(s):/>
"Mark", "Outsider", "Old Hobo" (among the homeless kids), "Mister Jones"
<Gender:/>
Male
<Age:/>
34

<Occupation:/>
Does homeless man count? Markus is still trying to work out just how the city works, or at the very least is playing stupid. Either way, he just does odd jobs to help himself get by.

<District:/> 17

<Height:/> 6'1
<Weight:/> 93kg

<Personality:/>
Markus is very... curious. As a man who claims to have come from beyond the walls, he likes to tell grand tales of adventure, and is generally fun to be around. He likes seeing others smile, laugh, become intrigued, or other such emotions, and is quite the supportive individual, very much like a caring big brother. He's a man who believes in freedom, which has lead to some altercations with the local police force, namely within the first few weeks of arriving at New Ancora. However, he managed to get away on a clean slate, considering he was apparently unaware of the concept of 'stealing', or just crime in general for that matter.

He's simply fascinated with the technologies of New Ancora, and acts much like an enthusiastic child when he encounters something new. Oftentimes, he'll create equally simple and childish nicknames for the device, rather than using the proper name. Despite this, the man is actually quite wise, or so he tries to be, since he's the only person from the outside to make it in, as far as he knows. His very being radiates experience and wonder, very much like an old man or woman whom has lived a fulfilling life, and his eyes gleam with this certain sense of brightness and life that could only be found in those who are pure of heart.

The question is, can he remain pure in New Ancora?

<Biography:/>

Not an awful lot of history to Markus. At least, not a lot of verified history. He sort of just... showed up one day, without a trace. He claims to have come from "The Outside". Nobody really knows for sure if he's actually from the outside, but he claims to be, and tells many vivid stories about it.

He made his first appearance by fixing a whole bunch of random 'garbage' in the outer districts of New Ancora, essentially turning scrap metal into useful tools and goods that he gave away to a bunch of random people. After this, the man mysteriously disappeared for about a month; even the shady alleyway guys couldn't find him. His second appearance was at a medical clinic for the homeless, where he proceeded to patch up a bunch of patients with methods and tools from the 21st century, and even performing an amputation for a cybernetic (which was very difficult to pull off due to his sheer fascination with the arm and tools provided). Yet once again, he disappeared into thin air, only to come back a third time a week later being caught stealing from a bunch of shopkeepers, though gave them back the stolen goods when he learned this was 'wrong'.

After this third appearance, Markus began appearing more and more, until eventually, he found himself living in the outer districts of New Ancora. Among the less fortunate citizens, he was known as the kind man who would do anything for free, at the least asking for a nice place to sleep or a simple meal to keep him going. Anyone he met would be greeted with a smile and a kind soul - everyone was given a chance to prove themselves as kind, and Markus was more than willing to give people a second chance. He had a few bad run-ins with the law even after he was established, being mistaken for a prankster or criminal playing dumb, yet even the most intense interrogators could only find sincerity in his words as he spoke of coming from the outside.

And that worried some people.

But Markus didn't really care, nor did he have time to care. He'd already gone when the police department was asked to question him about his method of entering New Ancora. But this time, it wasn't to disappear, or to help the people of the district. No, this was a personal goal of his that he had only just recently found. He'd already learned that New Ancorda had a variety of districts, and he knew that he was already in District 17. His goal was to make it further within the Districts, step by step, level by level, until finally he could maybe, possibly, hopefully reach the ultimate destination: District 0. He was drawn to that place somehow. Every time he heard about it, his curiosity would skyrocket. He just had to know what lay within.

And so, Markus begins his journey, headed from the 17th District to the 16th, hoping to help anyone he can along the way.

<Other:/> Markus's Theme; Oddly, Markus is very skilled in tinkering with modern day technologies, despite most of his knowledge relating to the 21st century. Additionally, he is fairly skilled when it comes to medical practices from the 21st century, and wishes to learn more about medicines and whatnot of 2118.
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by Dymion

<Name:/> Elizabeth Breeyon
<Nickname(s):/>None
<Gender:/>Female
<Age:/> 23

<Occupation:/>Hitman
<District:/> 16

<Height:/> 5' 11"
<Weight:/> 129 lbs.

<Appearance:/>


A lot of people can be described as predatory, but... it just rings true with Elizabeth. She's lean, well muscled, but feminine all the same. Almost like a panther. Always has a wary look in those teal eyes, and with her elegant jawline... it's hard not to see the hunter in her. But damn can she play a poor chap's heartstrings. Hard not to call her seducing, and those full lips... fool doesn't know what he's getting into. She knows how to use her looks to get what she wants. Doesn't matter if they are some narcissistic Alpha, he's still her play toy, tats and all. Even though she's got multiple. Yeah, there are the obvious ones, like the lines on her right cheek and the triangle one on her chin, but those aren't her favorites. No, she likes the one on her back, a tribal scorpion. Thing is huge, its tail starting at the top of her hip on the right side and running into the body set dead in her back, the pincers at her shoulders. It's... unsettling, to say the least.

<Personality:/> Cynical, sarcastic, devious... Elizabeth is a real... joy... to deal with. She never sincerely smiles, most of the time faking it to put you off, and she always has that neck tilt, like she's... trying to size you up. You can see it in her eyes, like you're prey. She's sadistic too, though whether it's a result of her work or vice versa is hard to say, and you can tell she isn't much for liking people. Thinks everyone's out to get her. She mostly sits back and lets the world screw itself up around her. Only became a hitman for the money. Doesn't care a lick about the politics behind it or the morality. As long as it pays good.

<Biography:/> Twenty-four years ago, a young drug addict by the name of Jonathan Breeyon had the misfortune of meeting an unknown woman on the streets. Tall, slender, elegant, and about his age, she was a magnet for the kid on high, and within a few short hours, she was leaving his hovel as content as any lion after its meal. But, unlike every other successful hunt, this one had after effects, and in a short time, the seducer realized she'd made an error. And she needed to get rid of it. Fast.

Surgery was too expensive. None of the clinics would take her. So in nine months time, her little daughter was born. And she couldn't bring herself to kill it. Instead, she took it to the father, and with a little reward, stuck the baby with her addict dad. That's how she got the name, Breeyon. And Jonathan decides to keep the name of the mother. Elizabeth.

The lessons of a parent on narcotics are of a strange variety, and as the young girl aged through her toddler and early preteen years, she found that the world was a place of advantage and sin. It wasn't that her father ever beat on her. Despite the influence of drugs, he cherished the little girl, and gave her all the love he could afford. But as she watched Jonathan poison himself day by day, wasting his money on pleasure over food, it had an impact.

When her old man died at the ripe old age of thirty-three, sixteen year old Elizabeth didn't have many choices for how she was going to make it in the world alone. It was either join a gang, become a prostitute, or work a low paying job to go nowhere. Unless, you had the willpower or connections to contracts.

Elizabeth was not going to become her mother. Three days after Jonathan's death, the little vixen had contacted a hitman with what she described as simply a job. Had he known that job was to take on an apprentice, he would've hung up the phone. Instead, he arrived and was impressed my the girl's treachery, and took her in.

The next two years saw the young girl turned into a lethal woman, her enthrallment with her occupation enough that she picked up skills quickly. First came her talents in manipulation. Learning to heighten or lower her voice, control her language, accent, gaint, demeanor... talents that actors wished for. Next was her own physical prowess, a skill she tailored to her own form, making her agile, fast, and skilled at hand to hand combat. Then the teacher was done, and Elizabeth was on her own. But there was one final lesson she learned, a skill that was both ironic and unique, making her a go to for inconspicuous kills. To create and synthesize various narcotics, then apply them in a multitude of ways. A talent which made her truly deadly.

<Other:/>
The drugs employed by Elizabeth are many, each serving their purpose in various ways.

Scopolamine: Also known as Devil's Breath, this little beauty is made from a tree that grows abundantly in Colombia, where the local criminal element made it infamous with their constant use of the substance. Odorless, colorless, and tastless, it takes a minor amount inhaled, consumed, injected, or exposed to breaks in the skin for the most basic effects to begin. And it only takes a few minutes from first exposure, before the victim enters what is best described as a zombie-like state; coherent but with no free will. And it gets worse. Not only is the subject easy to command, with Colombian cases expanding from victims helping robbers steal their valuables to even donating organs, but afterwards there is no recollection of the events, the drug stopping memories from forming for nearly 24 hours. Those under the influence of Devil's Breath also experience powerful hallucinations, with increased dosages resulting in a state of unconciousness and, in high amounts, death due to respiratory failure.

In the hands of a skilled hitman, Devil's Breath earns its dubbing by some as the scariest drug out there. It can be blown into someone's face, slipped in their drink, injected into their skin, or dispersed in the very air they breath. But what makes it most powerful is the massive quantity of applications. Interrogations, robberies, framings, attacks, coverups... all made ten times easier thanks to a little tree.

Hand of the Devil: Often sold on the streets and in dark corners for aspiring athletes and underhanded brawlers, the drug is likely one of the most dangerous on the market, for both consumers and anything around them. The steroid, requiring direct injection into the body, stimulates the body to levels beyond what man should achieve, but seems to induce a level of rage and unreasoning that makes it earn the name. That is, if you make it past the first few minutes. This is a drug that only the best of the best can even think to use, with top physical conditioning required. Otherwise, you face cardiac arrest, a fate 90% of users meet head on.

Again, Elizabeth enjoys her interactions with the Devil's toys, with this one usually saved for the weak bodied or those requiring high profile deaths. It is truly a hitman's best friend. Inject it quietly and in the victim's sleep, and they die by a drug that will make investigators right them off as just another casualty of ambition. But the best are when they are awake and healthy, with wild chases testing her own skills as she leads them straight into the law and a complete massacre.

Hydrogen Cyanide: Probably the most lethal poison in the world, hydrogen cyanide is a liquid that boils at just above room temperature, making both liquid and gaseous use a possibility when applied in the field. Targeting the ETC in the cells' mitochondria, it completely shuts down ATP production, affecting the nervous system and heart most as they are forced to shut down. The speed that this takes varies. As a gas, about three hundred milligrams per cubic meter is all it takes to kill anyone exposed to the space in ten to sixty minutes. And at three thousand five hundred of the same unit of measurement, it takes less than a minute. In it's liquid form, its even more dangerous, taking small amounts of space to deliver a punch powerful enough to end the largest of animals. A syringe of this colorless, water-filled substance, and it's the end.

Even despite its lack of distributors, forcing Elizabeth to construct her own lab, the hitman has found Hydrogen Cyanide to be worth the effort. In a drink, the poison goes straight to the stomach, boiling on its way until every milligram is distributed across the body in a blanket if death. With a syringe, it's even faster. But what makes it amazing for someone like Elizabeth is the prospect of slipping it into a building's filtration system, ending hundreds of lives within hours.

2,4-Dinitrophenol: Simply referred to as DNP, the drug can actually be found over the counter in pills made for weight loss, often attracting body builders or big people wanting slim bodies. The problem is, most that by it don't quite realize what they are getting into, either loving the results or dying before they get them. The reason why is actually pretty scary. The reaction of the drug with the body results in the mitochondria reducing energy production efficiency, instead turning all that chemical work it's done into waste heat. The result is a massive increase in body temperature, and eventual death by hyperthermia. Unless, of course, you have a ton of fat to burn. Literally.

What Elizabeth loves most about DNP is the fact that all it takes is a hammer and bag to alter it to a nice, yellow powder, which can be slipped into food or drink and given to an unsuspecting target. Once ingested, it's almost cruel, the effects literally cooking the victim from the inside until they die from the excess heat.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by FantasyChic



<Name:/> Cassia Winters

<Nickname(s):/> Ambrosia (Stage Name), Cassie (Friends)

<Gender:/> Female

<Age:/> 25


<Occupation:/> Singer/Performer at Elevation

<District:/> District 5


<Height:/> 5'10''

<Weight:/> 126 lbs


<Appearance:/>



Cassia has long, blonde hair, blue eyes and pale skin. Her outfits range from extraordinary to extra extraordinary. Depending on the mood she hopes to spread in the club, she will wear a different outfit composed of a color scheme, with lights, tech, and other accompaniments that help to spread the emotion. In her daily life, she wears fashionable clothing in various colors.


<Personality:/> Cassia is a bit of a diva. She likes what she likes and that's all there is to it. She has her friends and she has her enemies and she makes it known who is in which category. She can be friendly when she wants to, but that's only when she wants to. She can be narcissistic at times. Though she can be vain, Cassia does appreciate where she is in her life and is thankful to the people that got her there. She enjoys entertaining and singing (it's the one thing in her life that is constant).

<Biography:/> Cassia was born to two parents. Notice I didn't say loving. Sure they pampered their daughter, gave her everything she asked for, made sure she was fed, dressed, did well in school, but they weren't exactly "hands on". Cassia grew up with other people taking care of her rather than her parents. She didn't mind if much until such things mattered, like hoping for a bedtime story or kissing a cut to make it better. It took acts of rebellion to get their attention finally, little things like shoplifting or cutting classes. Whatever got her parents to notice her.

However, her parents had a drastic change when they heard Cassia sing. At the age of 10, Cassia would sing along to whatever current hit was around. Her parents noticed her voice and quickly got on the line to get her into something.

Whisked away, Cassia was sent to (read: sold to) a high ranking music studio. There, they sharpened Cassia's talent and voice. Her parents were finally proud of her and showered her with love. Cassia was happy they were happy.

It wasn't until she was 16 that things took a sharp turn. Up until that point, Cassia put out songs, music discs, performed occasionally. She was an up-and-coming star, but her parents wanted more. More they screamed. Cassia couldn't take it anymore. She wanted something else.

No.

Her parents quickly turned venomous, verbally attacking their daughter, claiming she didn't appreciate all they gave her, how they made her into this star. Holding back tears, Cassia screamed at her parents, hitting on every detail of her life: how they were never there until it was beneficial for them, how they wanted a money maker, not a daughter.

It struck a nerve. Her parents decided if she was done, then fine. They were done.

She was no longer welcomed in their home.

In the midst of darkness; however, a light grew. A woman named Mileena, who worked for the studio and grew to like Cassia, offered her into her home. It wasn't as grand as she was accostomed to, but it was a roof over her head and food on her table. Cassia took the offer and spend many years with Mileena and her husband, eventually growing into a loving bond.

Cassia continued to sing, but it wasn't until she turned 21 that she got her big break. An offer was made, a contract at a popular club, Elevation. Cassia would be able to perform, would be set up in a nice home in District 5, and she would be in control of her work.

Cassia couldn't have gotten anything better.

But not everything is what it seems..

<Other:/> I left the backstory open for future plots, should anyone wish to help.
1x Thank Thank
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by Raid



<Name:/> Marsha L. Keane-Wilson
<Nickname(s):/> M.K, Marsh, the Tyro (the title reserved for the husband or wife of the current Librarian)

<Gender:/> cis-gendered female
<Age:/> 26

<Occupation:/> Flannery’s night shift manager/wife to the current leader of the Library (and believe her, it’s a job)
<District:/> 12

<Height:/> 5’5”
<Weight:/> 125

<Appearance:/>


<Personality:/> This is what D12 sees: She knows how to compliment you. It’s particular to you and you know because she stumbles a bit over her words when she says it. You like her smile. It comes with the compliments. She looks at you when you talk. Leans in when you slip up and admit some of your woes. Then, you keep talking and she nods her head, asks a question, and soon enough you got it all out and she knows. But then, she surprises you and shares something about herself you didn’t expect. You compliment her. Marsh smiles. You can see she doesn’t believe you. Now, you’re just confused.

This is what Marsh sees: She knows she’s intelligent. Knows it because references from books come up easily in her mind and that she draws connections faster than those around her. She knows she’s charismatic. Working as long as she has at Flannery’s and with the types of tips she pulls in, she has that touch of something else with her that helps pull in customers, and their money, into her pocket. Of course, it’s not that way with everyone. It’s not like one way is the only way. She enjoys getting to know a person so that she can learn what makes them smile or tell their secret.

But for as passionate as she is when she sings or how she likes a good argument, she’s got image issues. Oh, she eats food and enjoys her pleasures, but festering in her stomach are the insecurities of years in a bad marriage and her parent’s pressures. (“You’re chubby. Look at that roll in your stomach.” “Your voices cracked when you sang. How ugly.” “You’re awkward in bed.” “You should have tried better, done more.” “It’s not enough.” “Give more. More. Moremoremore.”) Weeks stack on top of each other where it boils there until it’s hard and it comes up and out. She shuts herself off. No books. Just a blanket and bed and one song played over and over again. Some spells are short. Some are long. Sometimes, at their worst, she’ll find the tallest building, go to the roof, and thinks about nothing and how nice nothing would be because she can’t numb herself to this world around her. No matter how much she tries.

She knows she’s an absolute romantic. She hates it. The dreams, the desires, the curling passion under her skin. But it’s that thought of maybe, just maybe, that has her stepping away from that edge before bringing her back again.

<Biography:/> Marsh was raised by two high ranking women within the Library, D12’s gang. Momma taught her how to sing Bobby Sands poetry and the Clash and Led Zeppelin. Mum read bedtime stories from Alexander Berkman’s autobiography or Benjamin Franklin’s satirical papers on British rule in the colonies. She knows her initials (MLK) were a half-joke from her parents and the other half is full expectations. She learned about Milk and Seneca Falls before she read about them.

She was never allowed to actually touch the books. She wasn’t fully initiated. By the second time she was scolded for handling a book, she knew she wanted to have the title Bookie. What she didn’t know was that everything, everything, was carefully put together so that she would meet Francis Wilson, the current Librarian.

They met at Flannery’s. Not much of a surprise. Marsh had been working in the kitchens since she was thirteen and then as a waitress after she turned seventeen. And that’s when he first flirted with her and slapped her ass. She was honored because he was the Librarian. So when he asked her to marry him two years later, she said. Yes, of course yes. The guy who had all the books and music at his finger tips. Who had the respect of dozens of Librarians behind him. Then, came the drugs. Then, came the rape. Then, came the stillborn. Then, came her Mum’s death and Momma’s confession that they always wanted M.K to marry Francis. We did this for you, they said. After all that talk of independence and revolution, too. The books, the songs, the poetry, it has a whole new meaning. Or maybe, it’s more like she realized the true meaning of Tim O’Brein’s book The Things They Carried.

Francis Wilson isn’t just a bad husband, though, he’s a bad Librarian. So it falls to the Tyro to maintain the reputation of the Library. She knows about the pole out in the community as to when she’ll off Francis, but she’ll bide her time until he’s killed. It’ll cause less strife within D12. With how often he travels into other districts, someone’s gonna be stupid enough to kill him. It won’t be one of the other gangs, though, no they don’t want someone like her in power of such an old gang. She honestly doesn’t care about them. They have free will that they are exerting and it’s not her responsibility to deal with them or keep them in line. New Ancora and the government, well, that’s something she wants to tear down.

<Other:/>
M.K thinks the splotchy birthmark on her back sexy and her most attractive feature.

She enjoys sex with men and women. She not sure who she prefers in a romantic relationship. She hasn’t had the chance to find out.

1x Laugh Laugh
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by Ghost Shadow



"Scratch any cynic and you'll find a disappointed idealist."
George Carlin


<Name:/> Leonard Kenneth Monroe
<Nickname(s):/> Leon, Leo [Rarely Used]
<Gender:/> Male
<Age:/> 39

<Occupation:/> Private Investigator; Former Police Detective
<District:/> 8 [Originally D4 By Job Promotion]; Prefers to take Zone Beta cases. Born in District 16

<Height:/> 6'0"
<Weight:/> 190lbs [Augmentations add extra weight]

<Appearance:/>


<Clothing & Wardrobe:/>




<Personality:/>
A cynical and jaded loner who has witnessed many atrocities over the course of his life, Leon hides his true feelings and beliefs behind a weathered suit of callousness and insensitivity, guarding himself as a means of defense.

Keeping most people at an arm's length and preferring an air of mystery, Leon is loath to share his thoughts or opinions with others. He has very few friends and prefers to keep it that way, trusting a scant amount of people with information about his personal or private life. He treats new people with anything from guarded aloofness to outright hostility depending on the individual in question. Because of this distant attitude, most who do not know Leon see him as sinister in appearance and demeanor. Despite this and his former profession as a police detective, Leon is not soulless and is capable of feeling both sympathy and guilt for his actions. He has a razor sharp wit, often remarking on events with sarcasm. He seems to use this sense of humor as a sort of defense mechanism, reserving it for himself or for close associates - usually as a way of deflection.

He is capable of forming friendships in spite of his open cynicism, but nevertheless maintains a certain amount of distance in order to protect himself from potential harm. However, he is incredibly loyal and devoted to the friends he has, and is, as such, deeply affected by acts of betrayal.

Described as consumnate professional at best and a workaholic at worst, Leon is solely devoted to his profession, spending much of his time and efforts either investigating cases or honing his own skills to further increase his effectiveness. To Leon, his work as a private detective has become his identity, he helps solve cases not because he thinks it will make a difference - but because it is the right thing to do. Leon will often pass up or decline cases if he believes them do be morally or ethically unclear. Consequentially, he will sometimes accept jobs without commission simply because the job intrigues him or offers him a new challenge.

He is fervently determined by nature, executing his decisions with clear intentions and following through with any choice he makes. He pursues his goals with a borderline-obsessive ferocity, and does not take obstacles lightly. However, he is human enough to realize that no goal is important enough to directly hurt others in order to achieve.

This determination is bested only by his resourcefulness and willpower. Labeled as a born survivor, Leon possesses renowned instincts and survival skills that have allowed him to survive up to this point. He is highly perceptive, and never fully lets his guard down, making him all the more dangerous.

Leon possesses something of a weakness for heroics underneath his worn surface. He goes to great, sometimes even dangerous lengths to protect the poor and downtrodden. He performs random, unexpected acts of kindness that belie his overall demeanor, and is especially sympathetic towards children and the struggling families of Zone Beta.

However, as a consequence of this more sympathetic nature, Leon can be particularly vindictive towards those who abuse or manipulate those in poverty. He has a short, oftentimes explosive temper that will manifest itself when he is pushed past the point of anger or extreme annoyance. During such times he becomes incredibly intimidating, and can only be calmed down by a friend or close one's voice of reason.

His desire to do right in the world has been broken time and time again, but still he pushes on, no longer caring if his actions will directly influence the world or not. To him, even so much as one person helped makes a difference, and he will hold onto it as long as he can.

<Augmentations:/>

  • Cybernetic Arm: After a severe injury disabled the use of his right arm, surgeons had it replaced with a mechanical substitute from the shoulder down. Upon Leon's own request, the hand and wrist portion of the prosthetic possesses some degree of synthetic skin, allowing it to pass off as organic if the rest of the arm is covered. The augmented limb itself is constructed of advanced synthetic muscle fibers designed to move and contort exactly as a normal arm would. However, it possesses far greater strength, and can punch through metal and concrete, and crush bones with little effort. However, the prosthetic lacks durability, and can be rendered inoperable with enough damage. Similarly, in order to ensure the arm doesn't tear itself free from Leon's body, additional cyebrnetic reinforcements are placed near and around his shoulder, which includes several ribs.
  • Nano-Active Blood: As part of an experimental government program, Leon was given a full-body blood-transfusion, with his original blood removed and placed in cryogenic storage. What now flows through his body is an artificially-created nanomachine-comprised substitute that is designed to improve the blood's natural oxygen and nutrition transportation efficiency. The nanomachines within the blood itself boost Leon's regenerative capabilities and resistances, making him highly resistant, if not immune to disease and toxins; breaking down alcohol inside his system, preventing intoxication, filtering water after ingestion, and granting Leon a slightly-enhanced healing factor, allowing him to heal, in days, what would take other individuals weeks. It is unknown what the exact limit of this healing factor is, but it is known that the nanomachines actively repair nicotine damage in the lungs, preventing Leon from indulging in smoking.
  • Cybernetic Limb Actuator: Designed to enhance Leon's stamina and endurance, servos have been implanted in his joints, actuating each of his limbs [sans right arm] and increasing his limb strength and resilience. He can run faster, longer, and hit harder than the average person, though is by no means a superhuman.
  • Cybernetic Pain Inhibitor: As the name implies, the pain inhibitor is a small implant placed at the base of the neck. The implant does not remove the sensation of pain, but simply removes the lingering effects of it, while providing enough suppression to allow Leon to function regularly when injured. However, the pain inhibitor is incapable of treating injuries, and medical care will still be required to fully treat injuries.
  • Cybernetic Brain Augmenter: The final, and most experimental of Leon's augmentations, the cybernetic brain augmenter is designed to heighten his memory, thought processing, and and mental organization. It's installation grants Leon an eidetic memory, perfect sensory recollection, increased tactical efficiency and reaction time, and the ability to process information at an execrated speed. However, its continued presence causes chronic debilitating migraines, blurry, sometimes distorted vision, increased paranoia and agitation, and the early onset of mental illness. [USER: Leonard Monroe makes mention of audio-visual hallucinations following implant installation. AUTHENTICITY UNKNOWN]


<Skills & Abilities:/>
An experienced policeman and detective, Leon has an impressive set of skills that allow him to survive in even the harshest parts of Zone Beta. The most apparent of these skills is his combat prowess. A talented marksman, Leon is capable of making accurate shots from over fifty yards with a handgun, and rarely misses his intended target. He shows a certain amount of versatility with a wide-range of firearms, and can effectively wield most any gun he gets his hands on.

Similarly skilled in unarmed combat, Leon uses his natural resourcefulness and cunning when fighting, and will regularly use his environment around him as a means ot incapacitating or killing foes. He seems to prefer various kicks and grapples in battle, and is not above using dirty tactics as a means to win a melee.

Working as both a detective and a private investigator for the better part of his life, Leon has a quick, deductive mind and a natural cunning that makes him very good at what he does. He can scan an environment and quickly pick out details or odd particulars to help gain insight onto a clue. Likewise, he is very good at reading people's face and body language to determine if someone is lying - or if they pose a threat to him.

As a direct result of his time in Zone Beta, Leon has various connections into the seedier parts of New Ancora, and has collaborated with information brokers before to maintain up-to-date knowledge of the City's goings on.

Lastly, perhaps Leon's most prominent talent is his mechanical aptitude. Deft with his hands and surprisingly intelligent, Leon is capable of repairing and maintaining all varieties of technology, ranging from rudimentary household appliances to cybernetic limbs and robotic platforms. Tinkering is a hobby of his, and he can be found occasionally taking items apart only to put them back together simply to pass the time.

<Biography:/>
Leonard Kenneth Monroe was born to parents Calvin and Cynthia in an indiscriminate part of District 16. Growing up, Leon experienced varying amounts of financial need; ranging from only eating one-to-two meals a day to digging through dumpsters in search of something edible. His father, an embittered yet supportive man held work as a laborer and welder, but faced crippling alcoholism that drained their funds and threatened his job security. Though never physically abusive, and indeed doing his best to provide for his family, Calvin's weak will and continuing addiction drove a wedge between himself and his wife.

Leon didn't know his father well, and was instead fed oftentimes spiteful information from his mother. While loving in her own way, Cynthia's disdain of her own husband distracted her from the needs of her son, who soon closed himself off and grew more independent.

One particular incident that Leon recalled was his severely-inebriated father with a shotgun barrel in his mouth, begging his son to pull the trigger for him -- a request that Leon regrets not fulfilling to this day.

Growing up in Zone Beta, Leon saw firsthand the struggles of the common people, struggles that those in Zone Alpha were either unaware of...or simply didn't care. From that point on, he made a promise to himself that he wouldn't waste the life he was given...and would use it to help those in need.

He applied himself to his studies, and while not the most academically gifted student, showed a tenacity and drive that made him stand out in his own right. He displayed a particular amount of aptitude in the subjects of literature and religious education, and showed natural talent at amateur boxing and gymnastics.

During his years at school, Leon's father attempted to curb his drinking habit and turn his life around...but, lacking the willpower and strength to succeed, ended up relapsing, drinking himself into a comatose state while alone outside a bar. Calvin Monroe's stiff corpse was found the next morning by police officers, his death attributed to alcohol poisoning caused by the sudden binge-drinking.

Though devastated and disheartened, Leon didn't let the tragedy hold him back, and continued to push himself up until graduation, where he promptly entered the NAPD Academy to become a police officer.

His time at the academy was relatively normal. He showed great promise as an officer, and graduated within a year as a registered policeman.

During this time, Leon's mother began to show signs of early-onset Alzheimer's disease. While such a plight was easily treatable in the clinics of Zone Alpha, treatment options in Beta were far more sparse and expensive. Using whatever money he had left to try and pay for his mother's treatments, Leon soon fell into debt before even reaching 20 years old.

Forced to live in a sparse, two-room shack in the slums of 16 without so much as a whole bed to sleep on, Leon struggled desperately for weeks to stay on top of his various expenses...and was soon approached with an opportunity.

It was late evening on a Friday when he received a visitor: a man in a crisp, clean suit that no one could possibly afford in Beta. The man gave Leon a very special opportunity: 100 candidates were randomly chosen from a pool of federal employees, and would each undergo experimental invasive augmentation. Leon was initially wary at the proposal, but was assured the augmentations would be completely internal, and he would be paid a remarkably high monetary reward for his participation.

Finally agreeing to the terms, Leon was sent to Zone Alpha less than a week later, experiencing for the first time in his life the glory and beauty that the other side of Zone Alpha had to offer him. Sent to one of the finest hospitals in D3, Leon was soon prepped for surgery, and put under in the early morning hours.

His body drained completely of blood, Leon was rather extensively altered, with servos and actuators implanted in his joints, a pain inhibitor device attached to his cervical spine nerves, and a brain augmenter very dangerously implanted in his cerebrum. His body was completely refilled with an artificial blood substitute, while his original blood was frozen and put in storage for the present time.

Leon spent the next few days after surgery recovering, very quickly discovering that something was...different. On the outside nothing had changed, it seemed. But he felt so strange, so...artificial. Yet rejuvenated, strong.

Sent back to Zone Beta shortly recovering, Leon saw his own performance increasing exponentially. He was faster, more agile, better coordinated, healthier. His career bolstered as a result, and he regularly received transfers to higher and higher districts, eventually making it to Zone Alpha - as a permanent resident.

Having his mother moved to a better hospital, Leon was officially promoted to police detective, excelling in the position and earning a well-deserved name for himself. His transfers eventually landed him in District 4, where he remained stationed for some time; regularly taking cases in Zone Beta. During this time he entered a secret relationship with a female coworker, and not long thereafter lost his arm in a work-related accident [DETAILS REMOVED PER NEW ANCORA REGULATIONS].

Undisclosed events less than a year after led to Leon quitting the force in its entirety, becoming a self-employed private detective instead. He left his home life in District 4 and moved to District 8, hoping to make himself anew, though he still carries the heavy burdens of his past on his back.

<Other:/>

  • Voice Sample
  • Leon appears to be incredibly paranoid of most robots and artificial intelligence, though he never explains why. This trait appears to simply be a personality flaw as opposed to a trauma-induced fear.
  • Religiously, Leon identifies as Agnostic Theist.
  • Amusingly, Leon appears to be something of a big eater, regularly consuming meals that are labeled as "junk" or "unhealthy." However, this increased appetite is due to the excessive energy requirements of his various augmentations.
  • Due in part to his traumatic past and the circumstances regarding his augmentation, Leon is a functioning alcoholic. However, the nanomachines in his bloodstream prevent him from becoming intoxicated, thus forbidding him from self-destructing. At one point he implies to have had a nicotine addiction as well, though appears to have curbed the habit at this time.
  • While not asexual and somewhat flirtatious when in a good mood, Leon is generally fearful of romantic interaction or relationships, and is mistrustful of anyone attempting to get close to him unless they earn his confidence.
  • Leon is especially hesitant regarding children, though shows apparent skill at interacting with them. Where this fearfulness comes from is uncertain.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by Dark Light


Bad Ass

"Ain't nothing come for free"



<Name:/> Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw
<Gender:/> Male
<Age:/> 28
<Height:/> 6'2
<Weight:/> 220lbs
<Appearance:/>
Clayton was always naturally fit and muscular, his lifestyle choices further emphasised that. He is heavily tattooed and wears nearly just as many scars.
Despite his warrior-like stature he has deep soft gentle pale blue eyes.
His attire usually consists of big boots, denim jeans and a leather jacket.


<Occupation:/>
Thug. What ever pays, from bar tending to muscle work or mechanical repairs. Clay has done many 'morally questionable' things. Some of which just to get by, others to live briefly in a taste of luxury and then there were those that were not of necessity but purely impulsive spite or pleasure.
Trying to stay clean, Clay currently works as a mechanic in a chop shop.


<District:/> 13
Practically calls 'The Spit' home.
(Born in d17)

<Personality:/>
Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type.
Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too.


<Biography:/>
There is no pleasant way to put it, Clay's mother was a whore. But as far as whores go, for their district anyway, she fought hard to maintain what little respect and dignity that such a profession would allow.
She stayed clean and honest always putting her children first.
The same could not be said for the many men who came into his life assuming the fatherly role.

Clay protected his little brother as best as he could from the loud yelling and crying, the many drunken and violent outbursts. Eventually a man came by that seemed alright until he led Clay away from his family into a life of trouble.
Clay left his mother and brother to work for this man for a while before being betrayed and venturing off on his own.

Clayton is currently on the run from only 'god knows what' but that darkness always follows him. So Clayton runs and runs, only stopping to drink, fight and fuck before hitting the road again.


<Other:/>
Skills:
  • Brawling
  • Drinking
  • Mechanical repairs
  • Riding motorbikes
  • Endurance


Likes:
  • Whiskey
  • Women
  • Fighting
  • Motor bikes
  • Leather
  • Tattoos
  • The number 13
    (Roughly in that order)
Dislikes:
  • 'Intellectual' conversations
  • Politics
  • Wimps
  • Sleeping
  • His past
  • Cats
  • Rules & restraints
Weakness:
  • Short temper
  • Addiction to alcohol
  • Pretty women
  • Rejection to self happiness
  • Being trapped (claustrophobia)
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by Dark Light


Business man

"You do not know of the darkness in which I have walked."



<Name:/> Dorian Radshaw
<Gender:/> Male
<Age:/> 26
<Height:/> 5'9
<Weight:/> 190lbs
<Appearance:/>
This man is swathed in mystery and seclusion, much is always happening behind those deep intense eyes but that's where his thoughts stay.
Dorian is quite tall, his clothes are always in pristine condition and he takes great care to ensure his appearance is always at its best.


<Occupation:/>

<District:/> 9
Just got his pass to the Alpha zone
(Born in d17)

<Personality:/>
Dorian is actually quite shy and reserved, if not needed he would happily hide away in his office but unfortunately he is also an ambitious control freak, needing to keep an eye and hand on all his affairs.

He truly believes money equals power and is what makes and measures a man.
He despises nearly all drugs and cybernetic implants. He finds superiority in purity.


<Biography:/>
Dorian didn't see his mother the same way Clay did, nor did he despise the many men who tried to be his father as much as Clay did.
For most his young life he was sheltered from the worst of it.

Suddenly he was hit by the harsh reality of life as his safe little bubble came crashing down around him. Clay had left them, his temporary father soon to follow. His mother fell deathly ill and it was up to Dorian to support her.

It was too much for the young teenager. He tried his best but her decline was inevitable. Left all alone he continued his pursuit of income and was never satisfied. He blames his mothers death on their poverty, on himself.

'Nothing comes for free' the lesson Dorian has learnt from a lifetime of loneliness, clawing against all odds and misfortune to be where he is now. If destiny is truly predetermined then Dorian believes himself to have already defied the fate that the cosmos had laid out for him long ago. He lives his life expecting that at any second the grander powers that be will rectify his defiance.


Skills:
  • Diplomacy
  • Patience
  • Observation
  • Knife throwing
  • Accounting
Likes:
  • Order
  • Even numbers
  • Fine suits
  • Expensive drinks
  • Control
  • Collectors knives
Disikes:
  • Chaos
  • Odd numbers
  • Flaws in his appearance
  • Cheap drinks
  • Drug/Alcohol addicts
  • Cybernetics
  • Lazy people
Weakness:
  • Emotional instability
  • Need for order and control
  • Gambling
  • Greed
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by YoshiSkittlez
Raw
GM
Avatar of YoshiSkittlez

YoshiSkittlez Roleplay Master

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Played by Mach2

Name: Ariette “Vagrant” Forge
Age: 17. Though when asked, she always claims older.
District: 13
Occupation: Pick-pocket, smuggler, full-time low-life.

Appearance
Picture:


Physical Description:
At first glance, Vagrant is hardly what anyone would consider to be intimidating. She is young, and she looks it, standing at only 5'2" in height, including the soles of her shoes. However, looking a little closer, one can see she is more powerful than she initially appears. Though she is small, Vagrant is heavily athletic, and carries herself with the confidence of a giant. She is sturdily built, with muscles defined through her arms and shoulders, and a solid core.

The one weakness to Vagrant's powerful build is her left knee. An accident several months ago left the joint shattered. With the choice between months of natural recovery followed by months of physiotherapy, versus a buggy prosthetic, she chose the latter. The majority of her knee was replaced with a rudimentary cybernetic. Just advanced enough to allow normal function to the organic lower half of her leg, but well behind what New Ancora is capable of today. The joint moves less-than-smoothly, and occasionally locks up on her.

She typically wears her hair short, strands of dark red often falling into her face. Vagrant’s expression is often one of easy confidence, often bordering on arrogance. She has pale blue eyes, capable of turning icy when her temper is evoked.

Clothing and Equipment:
Vagrant's attire leans towards solid, comfortable clothing. She wants to dress in things that are easy to move in, and that will hold up to her rough lifestyle. Tank tops are her go-to, and dark cargo pants. She used to enjoy wearing shorts, but now chooses instead to hide her prosthetic knee. Her clothes are often stained with dirt and grime, but never blood. Vagrant hates blood. Her feet are protected by a pair of steel-toed boots, a size too large and stolen from a street fighter several years ago.

She lives out of her backpack, an old leather object that never leaves her shoulder. It contains her most prized possessions. Her changes of clothes; a crumpled photograph of her and Austin, taken when they were 4 and 11 years old; a set of spiked brass knuckles, previously owned by her brother; strips of cloth for wrapping her knuckles; and whatever money she happens to be in possession of, usually very little.

Personal Details:
Ariette Forge was born in District 15. Her family consisted of parents Scott and Jeanine Forge, as well as her brother Austin, seven years older than her.

From the time Ari was born until she turned four, the responsibility of looking after her fell largely to Austin. Their father, Scott, was a heavy drinker, and was constantly trying to find work. When he was at home, he was either drunk or hungover, and abusive to his wife and children. Jeanine, their mother, often committed acts of infidelity, cheating on her husband with other men. Austin saw his family disintegrating, and swore to save his sister from a life of domestic violence. When she was four, and he was eleven, the two of them ran away.

They stuck to the lower districts for the following years, losing themselves in the immense city. Austin quickly learned how to be streetwise. He mastered petty thievery, lying, arguing, and fighting. As Ari grew older, her brother became her hero. He was everything to her, best friend, brother, and father. He taught her how to survive, how to steal, and above all, how to fight. By the time she was ten years old, petite little Ariette could hold her own in a fight against an adult. Even her brother, a giant of a man by the time he was seventeen, would lose a fight against her on rare occasion.

She began to go by the nickname of Vagrant. It was the name people spat at her when she begged for change at street corners. It was the name that shopkeepers hissed when they realized that she had left with some of their wares. And it was the name that Austin laughingly called her whenever she completed some impressive task.

Despite the skill that the Forge children had, Zone Beta was still a massive slum, heavily populated with all sorts of shady folk. People died. Deals went wrong. No one was really safe. Not ever.

Vagrant was sixteen years old when her brother died.

Austin was a giant, nearly 6'6" in height, and weighing in at 250lbs. His build was solid muscle, and his icy gaze could strike fear into the hearts of those who tried to cross him. But even the strongest man has little chance when the fight is three on one. It was the simple result of a deal gone wrong. Weapons they had stolen for money to be spent on food. The deal turned sour, and a fight broke out.

Two of the men held Ariette roughly, and a devastating kick to the side of her knee sent her down. Bones shattered, and the injury would later result in a rudimentary prosthetic. The other three took on Austin. His life ended with a knife in his throat. Everyone ran before his heart had even stopped bleeding. Ariette’s brother died in her arms, bleeding out with her unable to do anything.

Months have passed, and Ari still mourns her brother. She knows they got away, and if she sees any of their faces again, she's promised herself that they won't walk away. In the meantime, she continues the daily struggles of your typical street urchin. Finding food, stealing coin, scamming and smuggling.

Personality
Vagrant is a confident person, to the point of arrogance. She tends to overestimate herself, and will take on tasks above what her skills allow her to do. However, she is fiercely determined and always performs to her fullest. Backing down from a fight, to Vagrant, is the highest level of cowardice.

Though she is instinctively skeptical and distrusting, Vagrant is loyal to the death when she becomes close to someone. The only one this has ever happened with before was her brother.

Vagrant is clever, though not intelligent. She likes to pick a fight against larger opponents, if only to prove that she can take them on. Her fiery temper is easily sparked, and she can hold a grudge.

Surprising, for one so prone to violence, Vagrant suffers from terrible hemophobia. She hates the sight of blood, and a nosebleed is usually enough to make her useless in a fight.
↑ Top
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet