APPEARANCE◢ Oslo is a man of moderate size and frame, otherwise simple sinewy proportions corrupted by cybernetic enhancements. These modifications provide a similar effect to his face: he naturally has very soft and pleasant almost androgynous or effeminate features and skin that can be simply described as boyishly handsome. But they are warped, marked by alloys and plastics. His neck-length hair is jet black and typically shining with unwashed oils, though by contrast the rest of his face remains cleanly shaven with an almost unhealthily pale tone on his skin. Fearful of suspicion regarding the origin of his modifications, he will most usually wear a helmet or in civilian situations a keffiyeh with headset and sunglasses; his flesh remains tender and red wherever it meets machine with some points even being dead, black. Conversely, there are lumps of grafted-on skin upon him that hide elements of his augmentation. Often this will make showing emotion through facial expression or general body language difficult as skin and even muscle and bone struggles to take the desired positions when stretched across his modifications, not to speak of their morphing of the body in its resting position or the parts of himself he quite literally lost control of. Though this modification does not scream of its origins as indoctrination tech, an expert in the subject matter of reapers or Cerberus could get some measure of suspicions if given an opportunity for in depth examination of his person.
Armour and dress will alike usually be darker, containing just a little flair, but otherwise he doesn't put much care into clothing; unless desired for a disguise or similar occassion he is happy to wear flea marked hand me downs. His eyes were once a dark brown, but now have the whites replaced with black orbs glowing red at the pupil and green-blue through a few elements of core cabling.
Much like his personality his voice is rather erratic. When calm it is a soft and quiet base but excitement (regardless of positive or negative origin) will usually raise the pitch and give it either a grating or nasal timbre.
MOTIVATIONS AND OUTLOOK◢ Ossie is a confused man. He still dreams of reforming the systems alliance into a more assertive state readier to deal with its adversaries. The aliens in the Sol System demanding humanity bend the knee for their extraterrestrial interests are all squatters that must be ejected like the Quarians, by force if necessary. At the same time, with the world the way it is following the death of the reapers much of his past philosophy and goals are null and void leaving him somewhat aimless as humanity no longer fears extinction. Still, the longing to find community combined with fears of retribution over his past lead him to two main goals: accumulate capital to live off of in the immediate term, and find himself a new cell or the remnants of his previous one to advance the same goal he has had for years: defend mankind.
To this end, when he is not doing odd jobs to scrap for a meal he is happy to do whatever is needed as a volunteer in the reconstruction of Earth. Oslo fancies himself to be a hero just like his late mother was, and in all he does he first questions if what he does will make her proud of her son as she gazes down towards Earth from eternal rest.
But the results of all this are inconsistent at best. A long time of pretending to be somebody else in conjunction with what he internally describes as failures of the past has every waking moment be a gaslighting of himself. There is a dark cloud looming in his mind that insists all he had done during the greatest war the milky way has seen was wrong. He is insecure, yet does his best to internalize all of his issues and presents a believable veneer of almost macho confidence.
INADEQUACIES AND FEARS◢ There are many things Oslo struggles with. Following his indoctrination at the hands of Cerberus and more than a year of taking on new identities has left his mind riddled with issues of even figuring out his own personality, leading to at times rather erratic behaviour with mood swings of amicable extroversion to calm indifference to savage irritability. He has a not entirely unfounded paranoia that he is hunted be it by another cell following the unplanned dissolution of his own, or by authorities that traced his past. Oslo does have greater concerns on matters of the future of the world, but for the most part his mind's worries are more selfish focusing on what may or may not happen to him.
Under his shells, Oslo is also quite simply put immature. His father raised him alone and was oft too ailing to be an adequate father figure, let alone compensate for a missing mother. As such he struggles with many realities that more adult people face, that can largely be condensed to the fact life is not fair, and it never will be. This is all the more devastating when compounded with his youth, and lack of (complete) formal education in much of life, even if the army and Cerberus provided him with quite a good amount of the practical stuff. Though experienced beyond his years he is still ultimately young and green.
Oslo is also affected by some perceptive illusions. As a result of the haywiring of the indoctrination tech within him following the defeat of the reapers, he at times is maligned with anything from stray lines of code in his vision, to whispers and phantom smells, to at times more serious apparitions combining all sensory elements.
The cybernetics in him can also prove to be just as much a liability as they are a boon. If not maintained, or successfully struck with things like overloads they cause massive pain and malfunction of bodily functions rendering him sluggish at best. Even when unaffected by the efforts of adversaries he deals with chronic migraines resulting from the foreign matter in him.
Finally, he is very scared that he might never get back the things he lost. Community, friends, family, love. The feeling he isn't alone, he is wanted, that he doesn't have to hide. This is made all the worse by growing self doubt of the validity of his past and the actions in it, as well as consciousness of his appearance and identity that he forsook.
BACKGROUND◢ Oslo was born to what one could argue to be a military family. His father Iskander Kassam was a cripple following his valiant resistance against the Turian aggressor during the contact wars. His mother Agnieska Kassam (née Haskau) was a Captain of a vessel that was destroyed by Batarian slavers, and she died before he could ever meet her.
Though difficult, his upbringing was rather happy. He heard many a great tale of what a great warrior his mother was, and all that she did for the protection of her people. Oslo would look to the skies imagining what adventures she would have had, what great deeds were accomplished in the soundless void. While his education continued and he took on work to help support the family of two once his siblings left for other worlds, he kept a smile upon his face, retreating from the poverty into a world of his mind. It worked, until it did not. His father passed away of a stroke whilst he was at school.
At the man's funeral, the boy looked to the stars and saw only one way forward. He went on to enlist, lying about his age and doing his best to edit it in his documentation. It was a poor job of the matter, but at the base of the recruitment centre was a Colonel that had known his mother that - upon learning of the full story - decided to humour the boy. He assigned him to a harsh drill Sergeant through his training, hoping that the man would squeeze out the adventurism of the lad if he wasn't serious about the matter, but insofar as he saw the pain of the training was only a fulfillment of the fantasy he had built about the nobility of being a soldier.
The kind Colonel eventually relented, and once the formal training was done he let the boy go through what he thought would be a simple tour of duty patrolling the edge of the Solar system. He was not so lucky.
It was only a few months into his first assignment that the vessel he was crewing found itself in combat. A vessel of the Eclipse Mercenary corp. struck at a trade vessel. The Alliance vessel outgunned that of the Mercenaries, but that did not matter much when the Eclipse mercs initiated a boarding action. The biotic veterans made short work of the green recruits in the ranks of the troops, only eventually facing defeat by attrition as the use of biotic powers wore them out and they began to run out of ammunition.
The officers amongst the crew insisted to Oslo he remain in reserves, but he was one of the few men left to take the offenders prisoner. As they were taken to the military base in the System, it was soon revealed that two of the members of the captured force were daughters of a powerful matriarch that insisted on their release, a demand that the Alliance Government acquiesced to in hopes of preventing a diplomatic incident.
While many of the locals accepted this knowing they were of a small colony with little voice, Oslo was infuriated. This defied all his expectations of his presumed honourable way of the military, and he made sure to express this wherever he could. This was overheard by the same Colonel Samson that had helped the lad enter the army, who thus decided to visit him one night on the way to the barracks.
Samson stated that the Asari duo would be escorted out in a week, and in one of the hallways leading out there was a segment undocumented by camera surveillance. If so truly Oslo wanted justice, he could be assigned to the position of escort of the asari to the shuttle that would take them to orbit and eventually freedom. Within the short stretch of hall he could murder them, and claim that they struck first. The Colonel had expected caution from his counterpart at the prospect of such vigilantism but received only unquestioning acceptance.
As planned he took them through the halls, and relished the moment he spent but two shots of his thermal clip for the villains. A court martial happened to investigate what happened, and despite much of his unit and officers standing up for him Oslo was charged with negligent discharge of his weapon in an effort to appease, and was thus no longer in the Marines.
Returning home he was approached by the Colonel. Samson stated the obvious: that his life expectancy was rather short now given his transgression against a very powerful person. Seeing the boy only shrug his shoulders more concerned with the fact that he was now out of the army, he made him an offer. Samson stated there was an organization he was part of, one that needed those as uncompromising in their dedication to standing up for their people as he, one that needed those sufficiently devoted to this cause: Cerberus.
The Colonel gave him a time, and a place. Oslo showed up under a street light, and from there darkness. He awoke in the Med-Bay of a vessel, sterile white surrounding him everywhere save for a pair of mechanical goggles scrutinizing him. The visor came off, and there was a face smiling upon him. It introduced itself as Doctor Strasser Ochekwu, M.D., Phd, and a lot more letters. As proper consciousness flowed back into the lad he began to sit himself up, answering the barrage of questions that came at him regarding his past, his motivations, his education, skills, so on and so forth. As time went on, Strasser got ever more serious, her smile turning to a frown, only for the smile to return once the last questions were done. The Doctor was open to Oslo about the truth. He was far from the peak of material that the vessel had held, but he seemed to have the devotion and desire to be able to be moulded into a tool for the defence of mankind. It hurt, but Oslo swallowed his pride and accepted the offer that Strasser gave him: to join the Achilles Cell of Cerberus and fight for what he knew was right.
He was introduced to the crew soon after. Korwin Markov, an N7 defector that blew an aggression inhibitor before turning coats. Jonah Khaled, once Olympic fencer now swinging a true blade against the dark. Sofia Cortez the Captain and Pilot of The Ascension; a veteran of the Alliance Navy that turned to becoming a pirate against the Turians after disagreeing with high command in the peace that was forged with the Turians then taken in by Cerberus. Nika Reigel, the Engineer he'd be most closely working with given the work that he was doing during his service in the Marines. Dozens of colourful people, an assortment that despite not always being the most welcoming did warm up to him and returned to Oslo some semblance of what he felt he had lost overnight with the dishonourable discharge.
Oslo received a training far more rigorous than what he had before as a simple Private. Though he had broken every bone in his body before he won a spar, he accepted the punishment with glee as it hardened him. He learned of stealth and disguise from the infiltrators within the cell, and spent much time with Reigel to expand the core of his professional abilities. Indeed the very first thing he was taught was of damping, a skill that was much appreciated. The Eclipse mercenaries that had massacred his comrades had left him a feeling of helplessness against biotics, and a veritable fear of them. With her help, he was able to overcome this and know that next time it would be the bastards on the other side that needed fear.
It was eventually his first assignment. There was a Turian research station at the edge of a system in the Terminus sector that had made a breakthrough on the Collectors. What it was, leadership would not say, but it didn't matter. They couldn't be allowed to have that, and as such they would perish. The attack was swift and merciless: with the facility more relying on its hidden nature for security than actual guards. Those that were posted were taken out after a prompt boarding action, with the defensive turrets and VIs getting hacked or struck by EMPs and the scientists gunned down before all the data was downloaded. The facility was destroyed and no evidence was left.
Following this a more discrete assignment was given to the Achilles Cell. They were to infiltrate parts of the Citadel to prepare it for future Cerberus activities. Caches of weapons and ammo were hid, several men were deployed to be sleeper agents. People within the city were given bribes or otherwise convinced to look the other way, some human officers of C-Sec convinced to sympathize with the cause. At the same time those that could not be swayed had to be assassinated; people were strangled and it was made to look as a robbery gone wrong or doors to homes were programmed to unexpectedly close on their owner to squash them. Many people perished, but they were all those who would have harmed the Cell members had they known of their activity and hence Oslo had no qualms with the matter.
The Achilles cell was recalled however to a hidden base of Cerberus. They were to report in for improvements to themselves. These were rather quickly revealed to be cybernetics and though the first hours following the surgeries it was merely the pain that occupied the minds of the cell, Oslo very soon realized he felt different. He did feel good. Stronger, faster, clearer of sight and mind. But with this clarity there was the realization almost as if he could no longer think as much as he could before; trains of thought would end abruptly on many topics, and he felt himself hesitate at the prospect of discussing many things with his crewmates on the matter of ideology or the cause. He wanted to question the matter, but Oslo quite simply could not.
They were then given an assignment that even the new implants could not in entirety clear his consciousness of. A small ship of the migrant fleet was docked in the Citadel, and it had to be slaughtered. They of course could not charge in, but they were able to infiltrate the ship to tamper with the electronics and machinery. Exhaust gasses were made to route into the life support system, that was in turn sabotaged to not vent these when a dangerous mass was detected. When the quarians returned they died a savage death in space as over-pressurized atmosphered cracked their suits, young and old alike bursting within their protective gear. Despite the machinery within him that was working against him questioning the Illusive Man's orders, there was something wrong here. Turians and Batarians he could understand, they were a people that had committed grave crimes against man-kind. There was no military honour in this, and rather horrifyingly he feared that his mother and father above would curse him for the crime he had committed.
He struggled with trying to justify this. Mental gymnastics an olympic medalist would be jealous of streamed through his mind, but he could still not give a satisfactory explanation. But again they were recalled to a Cerberus base for more enhancements. The pain was even greater this time, and now they were somewhat visible if he undressed in a light. But once more they felt good after time passed. Now the questions of the validity of the strike on the Quarians evaporated from his mind. They were friendly with the Turians and other scum, they unleashed the Geth on the galaxy, their people spread out across the stars to be vagrants, vagabonds, criminal nuisances.
The Achilles cell then participated in the strike on the Citadel. Though at the time many of the preparations they had done before seemed pecuiliar their value was soon apparent. Stashes of ammo were used by sleeper cells to destroy defender lines from within, mines had C-Sec units vapourized while running to armouries and demolition charges dropped rubble to prevent refugees from escaping the slaughter. Every nerve was crying out that this was wrong. For every Batarian or Turian in which he saw those that crushed his family, Oslo also saw the death of those he had little to no qualms with, including other humans, those who it was his sacred charge to protect. But wires and cables superseded nerve, and his finger held on to the trigger.
The day was eventually lost for the defenders of man. Covered from head to toe in the red product of his work Oslo fled with tail between legs as Cerberus in its entirety had to lick its wounds. It had suffered great losses that day but there were many cards that it had not played and the Achilles cell had much work to do. Terrorist operations all across the Milky Way were performed as well as supporting actions for the more open actions of providing reinforcement to larger scale Cerberus operations.
Every new assignment brought them to inflicting new levels of horror on the galaxy, but they were always followed by a return to a Cerberus base that layered on yet more augments that inevitably included indoctrination tech. Every increment in atrocity was matched with a decrement in ability to question it.
The time of the final showdown came, as the battle for Earth approached. Cerberus had gone into hiding by this point, but cells arrived at the edge of the Sol system with the aim of supporting their hero - the Illusive man - in the great gambit.
As Shephard destroyed synthetic life of the galaxy, the vessel of the Achilles cell crash-landed on Earth. In the crash a half of the crew perished, and another half perished from the shock of the destruction of synthetics as core systems shut down without the stolen reaper-tech within them malfunctioned. Of those that lived to gaze upon their birthright of Earth, the marvel of setting foot on their true home could not truly be enjoyed.
As much as two thirds of the bodies of the different members could not function. Strasser had her legs rendered immobile and a right arm quite simply break off. Markov's biotic implants reacted with the rest to burst a hole in his back and turn him to a gibbering mess, Captain Cortez was rendered wholly deaf, while Oslo himself had his eyes pour out of his head. A whole week was spent hungry and thirstty as they did the best to restore themselves to working order. In the time it took to do this there were many reflections for the whole Cell. Arguably for the first time in months Oslo was truly lucid. He could look at the proverbial rivers of blood on his hands and the reality of the lives lost in terror sank in. Though his body was covered in instances of necrosis from failed or failing implants, he still struggled to be confident in coming to terms with the world around him.
The indoctrination implants had fed his mind arguments about the validity of the actions of the Achilles cell, and as was designed they were logical at their core. But now he had the freedom to think against them. It did not take him long to consider that the entirety of his time following his discharge from the military was wrong, that he had failed those he had looked up to.
But on the other hand, there was little time or use in retrospection. Oslo told himself that even if it was not enough, he had done his best. Now he was surrounded by people important to him, and what mattered was surviving in the post war world.
A large taste of reality struck Oslo when venturing out from the crash site to look for food, children screamed at the sight of him and adults with weapons at times fired at the sight, believing him to be a yet operational husk from afar. To see that the people he swore himself to defend fear him so, to be rejected by his ancestral homeworld was an experience that crushed him. What was worse was that he realized even if he hid the physical changes, anyone who found out what he had done would do the same. Could they believe him if he said it wasn't himself, it was the implants' influence? He dreaded the inevitable question that would follow in response: whether or not it really was just the implants.
With survival more important than musings on his crimes, he ineffectually tried to drown out these intrusive thoughts. The lad took to covering himself with rags to form a bandana, sunglasses, a headset, anything that would let him and the rest of the cell wander the ruins of Earth and look the essentials that would let them survive. It was not enough of course, for close enough many would be able to get a better look and see the truth. Eventually the crew started to add in additional skin grafts on their flesh to hide some cybernetics, whilst outright removing or disabling other parts, or replacing them with less egregious ones. Slowly they returned to operating like a normal Cerberus cell in clandestine work. They dispersed from their meeting places to do their work, only reuniting to pool their resources and share updates on the ongoings of the world. They had no greater goal, but ultimately the message came in one day that the cell was jeopardized.
Oslo ran for days as far as he could from the ruined basement that he had known as home, eventually making his way to one of the population centers of ruined Earth. He felt hollow, alone, given all the more time to stew in reflection of what he had done with Cerberus and what was real or a fiction of his mind's corruption. He began to do odd jobs from construction work to killing off wild animals that ransacked supplies to looking for salvage to sell; anything that would help him get by; though considerable modifications had been done to hide the nature of what was below his skin, he was still fearful of approaching official channels for help. Only now with hearing of the Sol Restoration network he finally mustered the courage to sign on for this new job, hoping he can stop scraping mud for survival and make use of his past experience to once more fight for humanity.
There was an Old Earth saying he had heard: "A guilty one runs unchased." Oslo decided that he would not run.