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Neon Rainbow: Kings & Queens of Miami (Quirky gang satire set in a Neon-aesthetic Miami)

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Neon Rainbow: Kings & Queens of Miami (Quirky gang satire set in a Neon-aesthetic Miami)

*hacking noises*

_______________________________________________ Aart Gustaf Bakker _______________________________________________ July 4th, 1994 | 26 | South Afrikan _______________________________________________ Single | He/Him | Straight _______________________________________________ 'Arty' | Computer Sabotage Consultant (Hacker) _______________________________________________ Physical Profile ___________________________________ [+] Basics: • Height | 6"1 • Weight | 190 lbs • Build | Athletic • Hair Color | Platinum Blond • Eye Color | Hazel

Physical Profile ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Arty stands at approximately six foot one, he's kind of a slim athletic build. His hair is a notable platinum blond as it is wavy and kinda freaking awesome. His face is covered in minor scarring, above his right eye and under it is some kind of light chemical scarring. Near his left eye there is some minor scarring presumably from a blade as his young and beautiful face is scuffed up a bit. The scars just don't do him justice. In Neon Miami, Arty is usually seen wearing casual clothing. He is no stranger to the deadly heats that he endured most of his live in Afrika. He is found wearing an awesome Hawaiian shirt, usually, they vary in patterns and colors depending on the day and what he's feeling along with a pair of khaki shorts. He's usually carrying a slick piece with him too, a backpack to carry his gear when needed and of course he's rocking a pair of bootleg Yeezys. Off-white white Yeezys. His mannerisms scream foreigner like wow is this guy fresh off the boat or something? He's usually displaying a face of being simply unimpressed, though it can change once the choobs are done staring. His true emotions are reserved for the awesome, the wicked and the royals. Psychological Profile ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Calculated: Cool, calm and collected. Arty is calculated and often is forced into deep thought as he makes his next move, both up the professional and cool ladder. Unimpressed: Arty holds things and people to a high standard, it's hard to impress him considering he's seen it all. Smoke and Mirrors: Arty has a knack for detecting bullshit and he simply doesn't put up with it.

_{Criminal-Past
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}

Aart was born into a poor and starving family in the poor slum district in Johannesburg, South Africa His father was a petty thief and his mother worked as some secretary thing for an executive at Fairview Collectives. Growing up as an only child had its perks but Aart often found himself on the streets messing around with gangs he wasn't supposed to, making money the not so legal way. This caused him to run into a few not so awesome encounters with the police. Though he made his way through, he found a passion in computers especially hacking. He built his first computer from parts gathered from the local junkyard, eventually finding his way onto the net where he began exploring the deep and darkest parts of the web.

Later on in his life after high school and into his young adulthood he found work with a private military company as a hired gun. Roaming around with a band of ruffians in the rural areas of South Afrika, defending oil interests and rich people. Of course, he had interests outside of just being a hired gun, so he worked on his computer magic - hacked the company he worked for and took off with what he could. It was all encrypted, mostly but he used what he could to get the fabled United States of America.

He ended up landing in Neon Miami a shit hole city that just loved its vibrant lights, it's nothing he had seen before. With a skill set like Arty's you could say, well fuck he could of worked for a tech giant or something but it turns out some highschool bum coulden't get a job worth shit. Who knew if he was even legal, it was just simply unknown. So, he turned to crime or rather some people took interest in him. The Royals picked him up, he was just some gun to them until they saw him crack into a ATM causing it to spit out it's load. He was reassigned to do the gangs cyber ops, despite his poor English. He manages to get by.

_{Arrest & Sentencing Information
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}

Criminal Offense | Notes

Unlawful Network Access | For all those times he accessed the 'wrong' networks

Identity Theft | Was that credit card yours?

Wire Fraud | Fraud including wires.

_{Skills & Equipment
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}

_Skills:

Compooter Skill | He has the hacking skills to fit the bills.

Bi-Lingureal | Speaks Afrikaans and English - poorly.

Diamond in the Rough. | Can usually pick out good, or useable parts from junk heaps.

_Equipment:

The Tek-9 | The Tec-9, famous for being the Tec-9. It looks worn, used and is it even the real Tec-9 or a rip off? Known for the ability to be awesome and going pew pew, the Tek-9 everybody.

The Laptop | An American (???) made laptop, full of Arty's viruses and programs which he carries in a courier bag.

Fuel Siphoning Equipment | Not carried on him, it's sitting around gathering dust. You never know when you have to steal gas in Florida.

^{Other
_{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}

Neon Rainbow: Kings & Queens of Miami (Quirky gang satire set in a Neon-aesthetic Miami)

*hacking noises*

_______________________________________________ Aart Gustaf Bakker _______________________________________________ July 4th, 1994 | 26 | South Afrikan _______________________________________________ Single | He/Him | Straight _______________________________________________ 'Arty' | Computer Sabotage Consultant (Hacker) _______________________________________________ Physical Profile ___________________________________ [+] Basics: • Height | 6"1 • Weight | 190 lbs • Build | Athletic • Hair Color | Platinum Blond • Eye Color | Hazel

Physical Profile ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Arty stands at approximately six foot one, he's kind of a slim athletic build. His hair is a notable platinum blond as it is wavy and kinda freaking awesome. His face is covered in minor scarring, above his right eye and under it is some kind of light chemical scarring. Near his left eye there is some minor scarring presumably from a blade as his young and beautiful face is scuffed up a bit. The scars just don't do him justice. In Neon Miami, Arty is usually seen wearing casual clothing. He is no stranger to the deadly heats that he endured most of his live in Afrika. He is found wearing an awesome Hawaiian shirt, usually, they vary in patterns and colors depending on the day and what he's feeling along with a pair of khaki shorts. He's usually carrying a slick piece with him too, a backpack to carry his gear when needed and of course he's rocking a pair of bootleg Yeezys. Off-white white Yeezys. His mannerisms scream foreigner like wow is this guy fresh off the boat or something? He's usually displaying a face of being simply unimpressed, though it can change once the choobs are done staring. His true emotions are reserved for the awesome, the wicked and the royals. Psychological Profile ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Calculated: Cool, calm and collected. Arty is calculated and often is forced into deep thought as he makes his next move, both up the professional and cool ladder. Unimpressed: Arty holds things and people to a high standard, it's hard to impress him considering he's seen it all. Smoke and Mirrors: Arty has a knack for detecting bullshit and he simply doesn't put up with it.

_{Criminal-Past
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}

Aart was born into a poor and starving family in the poor slum district in Johannesburg, South Africa His father was a petty thief and his mother worked as some secretary thing for an executive at Fairview Collectives. Growing up as an only child had its perks but Aart often found himself on the streets messing around with gangs he wasn't supposed to, making money the not so legal way. This caused him to run into a few not so awesome encounters with the police. Though he made his way through, he found a passion in computers especially hacking. He built his first computer from parts gathered from the local junkyard, eventually finding his way onto the net where he began exploring the deep and darkest parts of the web.

Later on in his life after high school and into his young adulthood he found work with a private military company as a hired gun. Roaming around with a band of ruffians in the rural areas of South Afrika, defending oil interests and rich people. Of course, he had interests outside of just being a hired gun, so he worked on his computer magic - hacked the company he worked for and took off with what he could. It was all encrypted, mostly but he used what he could to get the fabled United States of America.

He ended up landing in Neon Miami a shit hole city that just loved its vibrant lights, it's nothing he had seen before. With a skill set like Arty's you could say, well fuck he could of worked for a tech giant or something but it turns out some highschool bum coulden't get a job worth shit. Who knew if he was even legal, it was just simply unknown. So, he turned to crime or rather some people took interest in him. The Royals picked him up, he was just some gun to them until they saw him crack into a ATM causing it to spit out it's load. He was reassigned to do the gangs cyber ops, despite his poor English. He manages to get by.

_{Arrest & Sentencing Information
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}

Criminal Offense | Notes

Unlawful Network Access | For all those times he accessed the 'wrong' networks

Identity Theft | Was that credit card yours?

Wire Fraud | Fraud including wires.

_{Skills & Equipment
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}

_Skills:

Compooter Skill | He has the hacking skills to fit the bills.

Bi-Lingureal | Speaks Afrikaans and English - poorly.

Diamond in the Rough. | Can usually pick out good, or useable parts from junk heaps.

_Equipment:

The Tek-9 | The Tec-9, famous for being the Tec-9. It looks worn, used and is it even the real Tec-9 or a rip off? Known for the ability to be awesome and going pew pew, the Tek-9 everybody.

The Laptop | An American (???) made laptop, full of Arty's viruses and programs which he carries in a courier bag.

Fuel Siphoning Equipment | Not carried on him, it's sitting around gathering dust. You never know when you have to steal gas in Florida.

^{Other
_{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}

Looking for fun. [18+ Adult Fun]

Craving sci-fi and halo rn.

~ Halo: Suffocation ~ [Open]

Amended.

~ Halo: Suffocation ~ [Open]

Markese-West

---

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Name
Sarah Markese-West

Gender
Female

Age
Twenty-six

Place of Birth
Sedra

Military Branch
ODST

---

Appearance

Hider

Attire
Sarah stands at five foot eight, she is of an athletic build. She had a medium length blonde ponytail with an ahtletic build, her face is scarred with a distinct notion of lack of sleep and sometimes emotion. Generally unimpressed. She wears your standard ODST fatigues with armor, she has a white line painted down on her helmet and down on her chest plate above her armor lettering. She has a designated marksmen patch to denote her specialization.

---

Weaponry
M392 Designated Marksmen Rifle, M6D SOCOM, 2x HEDP grenades.

Fireteam
Hyena Team - 2nd ODST Det.

Rank
Lance Corporal

Specialisation
Designated Marksmen

---

Personality
Sarah is a motor mouth, she like to run her mouth and chat it's the only thing keeping her sane in this fucked up joke of a war. Her humor is the best part about her, coping with the tragedies of war is tough. While she keeps a serious demeanour on the missions she embarks on she does miss the company of her compatriots as she's often supporting a scout team or with a partner. The end is coming all it takes it the willingness to step into it, sometimes a dark thinker Sarah likes to spruce up the moments with her wits.

Notable Traits
Loud mouth - She likes to talk alot, maybe too much.

High Roller - She's confident, risky and hell even ballsy.

---

Biography
In 2533, Sedra had some of the lowest birthrates among the Outer Colonies left standing, and a steadily growing unemployment rate. Nine years prior, the Covenant's omnicidal war against the UNSC had been declared. Every year after that came with resounding defeats for humanity, with victories so far and in between, that no matter how large it was, the odds continued to seem insurmountable. Sarah Markese-West was born into a period of utter terror and hopelessness, in a year where anyone would've thought birthing a baby would surely mean they were going to turn to ash with the rest of their home planet. Mister and Missus Markese-West birthed Sarah in the winter, where they watched planets burn and soldiers die over and over and over again on the pristine hospital telescreens.

Sarah is the child to a couple of farmers. Throughout her whole life, she was always closer to poverty than she was to affluence. Raised in an area of Sedra that was particularly affected by the soaring unemployment rates the Human-Covenant war brought, the majority of her life was lived in undeniable austerity. Raised with a strict father and a loving mother in an impoverished area of an already economically suffering planet, Sarah's childhood wasn't normal, but by no means was it uncommon. This cocktail of variables: class, geography, the occupation of her parents, all led to her becoming a soldier in the future.

Sarah's childhood was unremarkable only by the standards of the Human-Covenant war, perhaps a shared experience between every poor, working-class colonial child. The backdrop to every day was recent news of military defeats. Every TV channel at home came with blaring recruitment ads that cut into the programming at the time. Dinners were eaten with the blaring anthem of the UEG in the background. In Sarah's schooling career, the proud flags of the UEG and the UNSC seemed always to be at half-mast when she stepped into the yard every morning. The war never left Sarah, and it seemed to march closer to Sedra with every passing day.

The majority of soldiers that shipped from Sedra across every year of the war were from families that fell below the poverty line. As soon as high school graduation happened, Markese was one of a long line that stretched out the block to the recruitment office. Perhaps her fate of becoming a Marine was written as soon as she was born. To her, like many other kids her age, there was no other alternative than being a soldier. What were they supposed to do? Go to college, get into debt, and train to work in an office for the rest of their lives while aliens leapt bounds closer to their home? Sarah saw people her age break down crying after being ruled unfit for service. Naively, she believed to further pursue her education instead of signing up was a mark of cowardice.

The medical results came back in the mail, late during the summer after Sarah's senior year of high school. Fit to serve. A month later, she was shipped off to the nearest training depot in Sedra, a couple of hundred miles away from her home, nearer to Sedra City. On a hot summer's day, Sarah filed onto a shuttle filled with kids her age, with all her worldly positions in a bag.

Basic wasn't easy, but Sedrans weren't soft. The training regimen made a jarhead out of Sarah: a well oiled split jaw killing machine along with the rest of her class. Courses and obstacles that seemed foreign and insurmountable to Markese became muscle memory to her, as if wooden logs, barbed wire, and mud were the back of her hand. Sarah, a farm girl who had never shot anything bigger than an old hunting scattergun, was trained to become accustomed to the iconic Misriah weaponry she had gazed at from afar in propaganda posters and combat footage. Designations like MA5 and M392 and M739 were sat right next to the ABCs, in Sarah's mind: she was trained to use them all.

The graduates from class 3092 of Sedra City Recruit Depot were hurriedly rushed into combat, pelicans taking them to the metal coffins that'd become their homes for the entirety of their tours. The 45th MEU aboard the UNSC New Dawn Fades was her first assignment. The first squad she was slotted into out of basic, she was given the DMR, having become the replacement for the squad's former marksman. The 45th was present at a plethora of battles and planets: none of them victories for the UNSC. Sarah saw multiple months as a bog-standard Marine designated marksman inside the 45th with her squad, but eventually, more opportunities began to crop up.

Markese left her unit after multiple months of service in it. She had been offered a place in the Marine Force Recon program, her officer having already signed the transfer slip that'd slot her off into the Basic Recon Course required of her. Young, enthusiastic, and craving more action, Sarah happily accepted the offer, being shipped off for more training. BRC and all the schools that came after it were much more grueling than basic ever proved to be. Old ground like reading maps and compasses were retread, except this time in much greater depth. Radio jargon Sarah spouted when she was playing pretend as a child was now being drilled deep into her head. The time she spent as a roper was the most grueling training she had gone through at that point. Sarah's tough childhood and hardy home planet proved to work in her favor, though: she graduated, now assigned to a Force Recon company attached to another Expeditionary Unit.

In August of 2549, Paris IV was besieged by Covenant forces. Sarah's unit was redirected there as reinforcement rapidly, and it was Markese's first battle as a Force Recon marine. Over the course of the long siege, Sarah's team of 6 men worked often behind enemy lines in conjunction with Army artillery and Marine infantry, giving reports of how effective the Army's artillery strikes were in dislodging/disorganizing Covenant positions and gathering intelligence in order to supplement assaults when they happened. After a month's worth of days spent in combat on Paris IV, Sarah's team was pulled away, instead replaced with fresher soldiers. Markese heard the news of the defeat, and glassing, a week after her unit had been cycled out.

In early October, Sarah heard rumors in passing. HIGHCOM and Naval Intelligence were increasing the demand for ODSTs tenfold, opening the programs with laxer restrictions in order to get more already SOF guys trained, presumably for a big operation that was coming up. This was rarely corroborated with any hard evidence, but Sarah wouldn't pass up the chance to shoot for a higher station. With permission from her CO, her name was dropped in the box, and she was accepted into the program, and into training.

Service-History
Battle of Paris IV - QRF - Covnenat Victory
Battle of Arcadia - Recon / Spotting - Covenant Victory

---

Affiliations
Jack Markese-West, Father [Alive]

Zoe Markese-West, Mother [Alive]

Relationships

Hider

To be added later on when they are established.

Theme Song

Hider

youtube.com/watch?v=ny6l_i8YgAs

~ Halo: Suffocation ~ - Interest Check

Interested

Looking for fun. [18+ Adult Fun]

Bored.

Looking for fun. [18+ Adult Fun]

Cum play with me.

Looking for fun. [18+ Adult Fun]

Still looking, feeling a bit of halo. Free to suggest aswell.