Avatar of Heat

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Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
Undertow only makes me think of Tool. Good album though.
2 likes
4 yrs ago
Incest in 1x1 interest check. Opinion invalidated.
15 likes
4 yrs ago
Yeah don’t ever recall BLM charging the US Capitol building, scaling the walls, attacking Capitol police and breaking windows to enter.
6 likes
4 yrs ago
RIP America 1776 - 2021. We had a good run.
3 likes
4 yrs ago
If I am made mod I will do what everyone truly desires and delete the status bar.
6 likes

Bio



ABOUT ME:
  • Male.
  • EST USA timezone.
  • Been RPing since 2011.
  • Mainly into sci-fi RPs.
  • GM'd and been a player in too many roleplays to list.


CURRENT ROLEPLAYS:




Fin.

Feel free to hit me up if you wanna RP with me or have a RP idea you think I might be into.

Most Recent Posts

In ... 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In ... 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
I'm intrigued. Gotta figure out a fun character to play though (probably a baddie)
The former Cerberus agent ran his fingers down the newly installed window, the same darkened tint and size as the one which he shattered a couple of days earlier. Callan forced himself to put in the final panel by himself, a few of his underlings assisting with the other ones. He'd knocked out the others one anyway, replacing the entire section with improved bulletproof glass. It wouldn't stop another desk or person being thrown through it, but he guessed he was thinking even more paranoid than before. If someone charged through the front doors gun blazing then they'd go for the large set of windows right in plain view. In another way it had served as an ample distraction from his encounter with Odette, a scene which had embedded itself in his mind ever since his former handler left. His soldiers said nothing to him of the incident, or even mentioned it. Their boss' temper was legendary within the gang, and each of them knew better than to potentially provoke the already agitated biotic.

As he slide the last window into the frame the satisfying sound of a seamless fit. Callan tapped it three times with his knuckles, ensuring the placement before he reached for a canteen of water to his left. He wiped sweat from his brow, his plain grey t-shirt damped with stains from manual labor. As he sucked down the refreshing water he heard a beep emit from the wall panel at the top of his office's staircase. Callan approached it curiously, briefly wondering if it was Odette. As his eyes darted to scan the warehouse floor he did not see any sign of her, he would've noticed the hulking set of frontal doors coming open. The biotic pressed a finger to the switch, then heard the message from his underling at the other side of the door outside of his office.

"Sir, Cearya Janiix has requested to meet outside of Afterlife. Said she's got a special weapons offer for us." The Salarian, Voston Zabeni stated. One of Callan's top lieutenants.

"She knows how to reach me. She can't do it over that?" Callan replied, slight confusion in his voice. He wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind to venture near Afterlife. It was also an ideal avenue to be ambushed, even if it Janiix had no apparent reason to try such a thing. The Void Angels paid the Asari arms dealer very well.

"No, sir. She said over and over its something you just have to see in person. Wouldn't take no for an answer." Zabeni stated, rolling his eyes mid-sentence at the merchant's insistence.

"Fine. Tell Fausion and Kollek to get ready. They're backing me up in case things go south." Callan said, then stepped away from the intercom as he walked into his personal quarters. He heard the Salarian reply in what amounted to an 'affirmative' before he changed into his armor. A few moments later the now fully armed gang leader descended from his area with a gruff expression. Fausion and Kollek were leaned against the front door, weapons in hand as the biotic approached them.

"No one will try anything around Afterlife, sir. Aria would have their head." The Turian, Fausion stated confidently as Kollek silently nodded.

"I know. Keep your weapons holstered and follow my lead. Just watch my back, looking strong." Callan stated firmly, then stepped through the front door with both of his followers in tow.


After a brief holocraft ride from the slums to the main sector of the space station the trio walked the streets of Omega cautiously. Around them merchants hollered their wares, while the strong smell of some roasted creature filled the air. Just barely enough to overwhelm the typical foul stenches of the markets. Beggars sat at the corners and streamed through the crowds, pleading endlessly for any credits or food. Far more often than not they were met with a cold shoulder, or more painfully a kick to the gut. Omega was the absolute last place he'd ever want to be a vagrant, especially as a human. Even clad in his armor with an escort duo of sturdy soldiers he still felt the harsh alien eyes upon him with every step. He'd often forget humanity was still a newcomer to galactic civilization, and the rise to prominence hadn't helped with the rough reception humans were often met with in the Terminus systems. Callan nearly trampled a child in front of him, clad in dirty clothes.

"Please help me, they took my mom. I haven't seen her in days." The boy pleaded, cheeks red from tears as he stared up at Callan weakly. The vagrant youth's arrival caused Callan to stop, as both Fausion and Kollek glanced at each other with annoyance.

"I'm sorry, try to find somewhere safe. This is no place for a child." Callan said, focusing on the reason he'd come to this part of Omega. He was not a heartless man, he did feel for the boy.

Children were the most depressing thing he saw on the station, they were the most vulnerable and the weakest. He was briefly dragged back to the similar vagrant he'd seen on his first time on Omega, back when he was still a part of Cerberus. It was as tragic to think about now as it was when he saw the child all those years ago. The gang leader had to remain strong, and stepped past this present day beggar silently.

"Please, I have nowhere to go!" Callan heard as he focused his walk, nearly pushing through the crowd. He forced himself to eject the very recent scene from his mind, pulling himself into his powerful gang lord mindset. There was no place for weakness here, or any future day.

"Fucking beggars." He heard Kollek mumble behind him, the man's accent chirping through as Callan shook his head slightly. The trio pushed through the doorway, the bright lights of the central district of Omega coming into view.

Coincidentally his least favorite part of the station. The slums were dangerous and unpredictable, but at least they were honest in their perils. It was somehow even louder than the slummier districts, the incessant crowd noises, the traffic and the music hammering through the walls of the various clubs, particularly Afterlife. It made him think once more of Odette, how little she enjoyed Omega when they were sent here five years ago. He'd bet she steered clear of the area this time around and he wouldn't have blamed her. He'd mulled over silently what she had said to him before she left, that she needed time. How panicked she'd gotten because of their encounter. Callan truthfully had no idea what would happen next between them, and that tore into him deeply. Uncertainty was the worst feeling.
The front door of the warehouse rose open with a mechanical hiss. Twenty two figures stepped through, clad in various sets of battle armor. Each one had the insignia of their gang, the Void Angels painted across the chest plate of their armor. Each of their strides were filled with a joyous confidence from an operation gone splendidly. The interior of the warehouse was dotted with crates, tables and chairs as well as other markers of life. A makeshift shooting range had been set up in one of the corners, the wall down range painted with figures and dotted with impact points from where training shots had been unloaded onto the surface. Emptied thermal clips littered the floor as they dotted the metallic ground around the range. Through a doorway to the side a bar had been set up, the wall behind the counter loaded with bottles of liquor from different origins and worlds. This was not the only hideout for the group, but it was their headquarters. Their insignia was spray painted on the wall, below the windows of the leader's office and quarters.

"Excellent work, my friends. Tomorrow we will kill even more of those Blood Pack bastards. Tonight we celebrate, each and every one of you he earned it. I want you to think of every single one of our people those animals killed, we avenged them today." The leader exclaimed, raising a fist as his assembled followers cheered raucously.

As the warehouse was filled with celebrating gang members Callan went the opposite way, tired from a brutal but successful battle against a more powerful mercenary company. One of his lieutenants, Larsius Oroso tried to wave him over to join the celebration. The scarred Turian was headed into the bar along with a group of other members. Callan smirked the invitation off, then pressed his palm against the reader next to the door to his private area. The metal door slid open with a positive beep then closed as quickly as the tattooed biotic ascended the staircase. Drunken celebration wasn't for him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd partook in such a thing since he'd arrived on Omega. He wasn't a joyless man, Callan did feel pride over his smaller but skilled battalion of mercenaries beating a more illustrious gang but he knew it was not the end of the conflict. As he reached the top of the stairs he stepped through another doorway into his office. Callan walked over towards the tinted windows at the front of his office then folded his arms as he looked upon the wider view of the headquarters which his upper level office gave him.

The gangleader rolled his eyes at the sight of a group of scantily clad asari being lead through the front door. Dancers, probably requested in from one of the scummy little nightclubs nearby. He did not particularly want strangers to be brought into their hideout, but he'd let it slip this time. His gang's morale was high and he knew well enough to not bring it down. They'd lost eighteen men in the strike, sacrifices were needed in such a dangerous business. He made it a personal policy to never get too close to any of his underlings, a decision made partly out of pragmatism but also a deeper fear which he kept pushing deeper and deeper. He was not heartless, he did care for the fallen but in a place like Omega it was wisest to appear to brush off these thoughts. It was a wicked place, but one ideal for his goals. The credits flowed easily here and power shifts were common. The Void Angels were rising, he'd even heard of Aria T'Loak having noticed them from her power position in Afterlife. They'd have to be careful to not step on her toes but thankfully for them she ignored the gang wars as long as they didn't dare to cross her.

He shifted back towards the desk in his barren office, void of much furniture or decorations aside from his desk, a table with some chairs and an old couch. Callan didn't particularly care, it was rare anyone other than him came into this office. Occasionally he'd call up some his higher up soldiers to go over things but beyond that he was really the only one who ever was in here. Callan grasped the bottle of whiskey on left side of his desk, an aged handle from decades ago. He twisted the cap off with a blink, then poured himself a short glass of the strong liquor. The biotic leaned against his desk as he took a long sip, his mind going to past times. His memory was frequently haunted by Cerberus, the horror they inflicted upon him, the death he'd brought in their name. It shook his dreams in his sleep every single time. Callan wondered what they'd think of him now, rising to power in a far different lifestyle. His heart still tinged with a want for vengeance, once he'd risen further and further to where this station shook under his fist he'd take the fight to the Illusive Man.

Callan would strangle the breath from that wretched man's throat. Perhaps then he'd finally not feel so broken and haunted. He closed his eyes as he envisioned it, then finished the rest of the glass with a powerful gulp. The biotic shifted behind his desk, then retrieved a datapad from one of the cabinets. As he flicked it on and began to go over the inventory displayed on it the sounds of celebration echoed outside his office.

Five Years Ago…


2176CE

OMEGA




The hallways and carved out streets that built the underbelly of Omega were all the same, lines of dim and derelict slum housing in a seemingly never-ending labyrinth. Desolation had it’s tendrils around every structure, and corruption was the faint breeze that lingered. It was poetic, in a way. The people slouched over themselves, coughing into their hands as others walked past. They were blind to the pain and suffering. It was as if they carried themselves on the notion that if they turned their heads for even a second, they would be pulled down into the depths of desperation too.

“Hurry up,” came the stern tone of a woman strolling through, she too ignored those around her. “We don’t have all day,” she added. Her accent thick against the smoke of her voice. The woman’s frame was so petite that it seemed like a strong breeze would threaten to carry her with it, but her eyes harboured all of the intensity that anchored her in place. A bright blue, mottled with grey around the pupil. “They said that the target will be in the next district. We’ll be in and out.” Odette said as something menacing flickered briefly over her gaze, and her lips curled momentarily into a slight smile.

“Right behind you. I didn’t anticipate the crowds.” Callan muttered from just behind her, trying not to lose track of her lithe frame in the shifting masses. He slipt through, then closed the distance to catch up with the ocean eyed woman.

As the duo made their way through the renegade space station the powerful biotic avoided making eye contact with the denizens. Concentrated irises of green stared directly ahead as he marched after Odette, his only real friend and his partner on the mission. Though to those within the Cerberus command structure she was more akin to his handler, she more than anyone else kept him in line. As he echoed her footsteps and followed he took note of a foul stench which filled the air. It reminded him of death, expect even more foul. It hung inside his nostrils, causing him to cringe momentarily. He could not understand how anyone could willingly live here, in such filthy conditions. Though the grime fit many of the disgusting aliens which dwelled on Omega.

“It’s like the Citadel but somehow more disgusting.” He added, brushing off his front as he walked. His stride slowed as his eyes caught sight of something to the right side, tucked against a light fixture. A young human boy in rags.

The Cerberus operative did not allow himself to approach the sad looking child, but his acknowledgment of the boy could be clearly noticed. He felt a sadness shiver through him as he moved past the stray, a frown etching itself on his lips. Callan tried to blink away the depressing image, scratching the side of his buzzcut head as he walked. He inhaled then looked back at Odette, not mentioning the poor waif.

"Too many people for me…" Odette sighed, longing for her serene quarters back at their Cerberus station. "I don't mind the dirt but the people, the noise…" she groaned, curling a lip slightly. She slowed her pace to allow Callan to walk beside her, glancing sidelong at him as she did so. Of all the operatives she had been paired with, he was by far her favourite. Callan didn't bullshit about who or what he was, there was an honesty to him that seemed to unnerve many but it didn't bother her. She likened him to fire, and herself to ice - and she supposed that was why they made one hell of a fluid team.

For as much as he openly displayed, there was just as much that he let sit below the surface, out of the reach of anyone. Even Odette dare not poke at his innermost thoughts, and in the same respect he left hers alone too. They were fluid.

"So," she began in a lowered voice, eyes skimming their perimeter. "What's the plan? You want me to let you off the leash to do what needs to be done?" Odette smiled up at him mischievously. As long as she was silent in his shadow - Callan was more than capable of taking out a target himself.

“I can destroy them all. They won’t know what hit them, all while you can find a perfect vantage point. If I can’t get to the target then you’ll have the perfect shot on them.” The biotic stated clearly, flashing a rare smile as he counted the number of enemies they’d be facing down. There was a sparse amount of cover, some metal containers and corners but plenty of room for Callan to wreak havoc.

He gave one last glance towards Odette, then walked forward as a blue flare flashed through his frame. His biotics reverberated inside of him, amplified by constant training and painful experiments by Cerberus. Callan despised every single time they tied him down and took needles to him, cut him open and manipulated him like he wasn’t even human. Rage boiled at the thought of it, at all of them that saw him as just a weapon. Out of the corner of his eye he took note of Odette disappearing into the shadows, where she worked best. He wouldn’t let her down, he never did.

Then Callan grunted waving one hand as he clasped onto an explosive container to the side, full of flammable chemicals. With a slam of his hand he hurled the container through the air before it impacted into the ground, near a trio of armed mercenaries. Flames erupted where it hit, sending the three armored men flying with screams as the chaos began. The biotic drew his holstered heavy pistol from his belt, then tucked behind a wall as shots careened from the opposite side. He counted nine enemies, heavily armed mercenaries hired by the target to watch the poor fool’s back. Between him and Odette, they’d shred through them like nothing.

While Callan busied himself down below, Odette had already faded to nothing - hidden behind her tactical cloak she climbed with ease out of sight. Where she had previously been a drop of moonlight in the gloom, she was now bathed in it. She climbed up onto a crate, and from there took a run up the rounded surface of the wall until she could spring herself onto the upper walkway. The woman made no sound, only a breeze as she whipped past - keeping up with her colleague. "Keep going," she mouthed to nobody in particular as she observed Callan in the throes of his fury.

With poise, she lifted herself higher onto the next ledge, giving herself the perfect vantage point of the scene below as it played out, and not a moment too soon. It was precisely as she was glancing down the scope of her sniper rifle that she saw one of the enemies making a move towards Callan. She let the crosshairs find their point and in a single breath, and without hesitation, she pulled the trigger. A silent shot that she watched in slow motion until it found purchase with the mercs helmet.

In the riotous din of biotics, she didn't hear the visor crack but saw it through the barrel of the scope. A crack and then a hole. Nothing shattered, but the clear screen of the helmet turned red from the inside. He dropped, and his colleagues took cover -- they were now aware that there was a ghost in the warehouse. One of them was not quick enough, and he caught her second bullet in the back of his neck.

"Let the games begin," she whispered, slipping under the tactical cloak to find her next spot.

The biotic smiled viciously as he heard the first distinct shot from Odette’s rifle screech above him. His eyes rapidly shifted to where the bullet had impacted, counting one dead mercenary with a crimson filled visor. The idiot never stood a chance, didn’t even know it was coming until the shot ripped into his cranium. That was just how she worked, like an angel dealing death then disappearing into the clouds as rapidly as she attacked. As another merc fell with a splatter of blood and a scream Callan advanced.

He dashed across the battlefield, bullets slamming into the ground where his footsteps had been a second before. Callan slid, then ducked behind a set of metal containers. A stream of shots slammed into the floor near Callan, missing by mere inches. The highly trained Cerberus operative popped out for just a brief moment as his hands shook and glowed unleashed a fierce orb of biotic singularity towards his attackers. He smiled sadistically as two helpless mercenaries floated upwards, caught in his power’s gravity manipulating radius. Ideal targets for his guardian angel to finish off.

Callan shifted to launch another attack as more shots were fired his way, but was surprised to find one of the most bold mercenaries charging directly at him with a shotgun. He ducked to the side, avoiding the barrage as the few bolts that did impact did not go through his armor’s shields. The surprise attack only enraged the battle hungry biotic as his pupils flared up a terrifying blue, along with the rest of his frame. Then the mercenary was pulled upwards, dropping his shotgun with a holler. With a scream of pure fury Callan slammed his target down head first, shattering through helmet and skull bone like glass. As another bloody corpse was added to the body count.

And take them she did. Between watching Callan’s brutal assault, staying in the shadows, and picking off the stragglers - Odette’s time was spent. From behind her visor she smirked, “that’s it…” she whispered to herself as she stared down the scope again, watching a door at the back of the warehouse, she knew it would open soon -- how long could the bullets and biotics fly before backup was sent out.

Callan was handling himself as he had been trained to do, she no longer need worry about him, simply listen to the music of his rage.

Finally, the door opened up, and another mercenary walked through -- a heavily armoured one and from what Odette could make out, he was…. A Batarian. Her brow furrowed and she growled, pulling the trigger. Unlike the previous shots, this one simply cracked the screen of his helmet but did not penetrate. He turned his alien eyes in an aggressive stare to the direction of the bullet and she knew she had to move. The tactical cloak shimmered back over her form as she ran the length of the platform. The Batarian took a shot of his own, powerful bullets attacked the frame of the platform and tore through it.

“Shit,” Odette cursed as the her section of the runway fell, and she fell with it, far enough behind Callan that she had sufficient cover when she collided with the ground in an almighty crash. The sniper had lost her advantage, but was otherwise unharmed, and she had to change her tactics now. Only the heavy Batarian remained between she and Callan now.

As chaos echoed through the area the biotic continued to push forward steadily towards the warehouse. The two Cerberus agents moved like a well oiled machine as they dropped bodies in their pursuit of the target. No matter how many freelancers they had thrown at them they were still well on track, as expected from some of the best of Cerberus. As Callan stepped over a fallen corpse, one which his partner had killed, his eyes shifted to the opening warehouse doors. The biotic stared at the massive Batarian, armored to the teeth with a stance of utter determination.

Callan darted behind cover at the arrival of the new enemy as he expected to be the target of the huge opponent. Until he saw as one of Odette’s bullets deflected off the alien’s visor, leaving a harmless taunt of cracked glass. Then the behemoth fired high powered shots upwards, towards the other Cerberus agent. Callan’s rapidly shifted his glance towards where the shots impacted, concern over his partner before he watched her land gracefully away from the crashing runway. Once more the powerful biotic’s frame was encompassed in a deep blue aura, as his hand shot up rapidly and shook the ground between him and mercenary. The raging shockwave tossed and toppled nearby crates in its path, shattering some of the flimsier one like glass. With every single surging wave the deafening sounds echoed, easily overtaking the noise of machinery in the background.

Windows on the backside of the the warehouse shattered as the shockwave connected with its target. The batarian grunted angrily, as his powerful shields absorbed the blow and simply left the mercenary with a momentary stumble. As Callan’s opponent regained his stance the biotic drew his submachine gun, slammed a thermal clip into the weapon and fired center mass at the mercenary. The M-12 kicked in his fingers as he emptied the clip into the imposing enemy.

The tactical cloak fell back over, and with the Batarian taking on Callan with all of his focus, Odette moved freely and quickly, eyeing the tanks strapped to his back - powering his heavy armour. Her colleague only had to keep this up.

As she slipped past him, her icy gaze fixed to his form appreciatively for that split second, and she ascended a set of crates that were positioned to the left of their final foe. With surgical precision she reloaded the sniper rifle - a special ammo just for the Batarian. This would slow him down alright. The thought occurred to her that a well enough timed shot would finish him off now, but she wanted to see Callan take it. This time, he had earned it.

She made no sound as she moved - even if she did, it was lost in the gunfire.

Odette slipped down to one knee from the safe height she'd scaled to, the crosshairs met the Batarian's tank and she wasted no moment in pulling the trigger.

From the barrel of the gun, a lone bullet whistled clean through the air, leaving behind a glittering spray of ice. As it punctured the tank, the thing exploded in a bursting cloud of cold mist, the torn fragments now frozen and sparkling, suspended in the cryo ammos frame.

The Batarian staggered forwards, taken aback by the impact. He felt his armour shutting down, his limbs were harder to move as the grasp of ice moved over his shoulders until he was embalmed across the whole of his back. All eyes widened as he watched the crazed biotic, if he'd been a weaker man he might have called for mercy - but he was just as bloodthirsty and ruthless as his two opponents. He had no choice but to accept that they had won.

Callan’s eyes shot upwards as he watched Odette’s blazing fast display, moving with the grace of a ballerina as she finished off the towering opponent. He took a single step backwards as the bullet she had shot slammed into the ice filled tanks on the brute’s back. The biotic managed to avoid the ensuing explosion as he peered through the chilling mist it had created. His hands twitched anxiously as the chilling fog did nothing to cool his rage. The experiment amplified biotic’s frame shook as he locked eyes with his weakened target, then it was encompassed in the familiar blue of biotic fury.

A smirk seeped across Callan’s lips as he unleashed upon his opponent, sending the batarian into the air screaming in a deep blue blaze. Then with another shift of his hands he pushed the helpless, doomed enemy across the warehouse. The biotic let out a deep breath as he heard the plummeting opponent crash into the ground, practically feeling the sheer impact of it in his own bones. He closed his eyes momentarily as the anger faded, feeling his mind free itself from the furious state he had been in. His fingers stopped twitching and his biotic blue dissipated for the time being.

“Thank you for the assist, as always Odette. Lets go get that bastard.” Callan stated as his eyes came open and he looked at his partner, giving a thankful nod.

The slender woman closed the distance between herself and Callan, most of the dust had settled, and there was just a fine misted sprinkling of ice clinging to the biotic’s shoulder. Without thinking, having slung the rifle over her shoulder now that the danger was gone, Odette reached forwards to sweep it off him, as the rage in his eyes began to settle.

“You did good,” she said with a smirk. The afterglow of violence looked good on her, it brought a different quality to her eyes - much like her partner’s. Hers was not rage, but a twinkle of amusement. This was Cerberus, and their joy was in removing any and all obstacles out of their way. Today, that obstacle had been the Batarian.

Through the door sat their target, and not one to take credit, Odette gestured a hand to the doorway, her features once again serious, the brief celebratory moment was over and business resumed. “Let’s take him in.”

Callan nodded at his handler, throwing one last kick into the side of the dead Batarian before he stepped over the body to take the lead towards their target. Odette and him worked like a well oiled machine, a potent duo which left a trail of death in their wake. The strew of mercenary corpses along the way they’d tore through the warehouse was evidence of their efficiency. He drew his sidearm, then confidently strolled forward. The biotic could almost hear the target pissing himself from here.

“You know, whoever finds this mess won’t have the faintest clue what happened here.” Callan stated with a smirk. He always knew Cerberus had eyes on Omega, but their shadowy presence was not known to any of the major powers in the system. Not even the queen of Omega, Aria T’Loak herself. They’d be long gone from this filthy wreck before anyone was any wiser.
Sorry for the radio silence, guys. I had a family member die of COVID recently, while I wasn’t super close to them that threw a wrench in things. I honestly haven’t been able to get myself into the proper writing frame of mind regardless since this whole pandemic started.

But I will pump out an IC as soon as I can comfortably get into writing.
@role model sorry been occupied with work (food service industry takes no breaks even in a pandemic >.<).

I'll look it over and get back to you monday.
@TheAncientCenturion no rush at all!

I've been trying to get into a writing mindset to pump out the IC.
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