Slypheed said
I'm not saying they will abide by the rules. Its how the hell certain countries that never made Napalm, got Napalm without manufacturing it.
The same way Syria has T-72s, I'd imagine. :P
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Slypheed
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The same way Syria has T-72s, I'd imagine. :P
Australia's super awesome introduction has been put off until tomorrow.
I know, you all were totes looking forward to it.
I know, you all were totes looking forward to it.
RIP indeed, Raidne. RIP indeed.
Full Name: Grak Kla’chyu Ruo
Age: 15
Race: Chirix (Tindrel Collective)
Appearance: Grak stands at an average height of 5’7. His carapace is a brownish orange color, with hints of black. Grak’s head and neck are bleached white, to add to his individualism. In an attempt to seem more relatable to humans, Grak usually wears a pair of baggy, strangely fitting human clothes: An olive green old style military jacket, and cargo pants of the same color.
Personality: Grak is an extremely emotional, possibly bipolar (even by Chirix standards) alien. Grak seems to be afraid of even his own shadow, showing to have little gut for a fight. He’s quick to run away from his problems, and generally relies on his technology and wit over his physical feats. (Note: Grak is no where near as weak as he seems. He’s just as strong as the next Chirix.) If cornered and left without any conventional defenses, Grak will fight with tooth and nail to escape. Grak is unpredictable, cleaver, and extremely cunning. These traits are what allow him to stay away from the law for so long.
History: Like many people of Babylon, the Ruo’s were unlucky enough to have ended up in a tower town, and have stayed the majority of their lives. Grak was born the son of two illegal immigrants to Outremer. His parents were willing to do anything to keep their family of five alive. Once the children were born, Grak’s father, Kla (from where Grak received the first half his middle name), joined a crew of Sand Pirates. While this did provide the Ruo with a decent (tower town version of decent) income, this left Chyu (the latter half of Grak’s middle name. All of the children have this same middle name.) to raise the children alone. As soon as the Ruo boys were able to walk and talk, they were put to work. They each earned what jobs they could to assist the family in scrounging up enough money to live, and hopefully some day move into Babylon itself. The job Grak found was what influenced him to join the business he did. He had become the apprentice to a local arms dealer, who created the majority of the weapons on his own.
This man Grak worked for taught the little Chirix many important lessons. First, he taught Grak how to steal. No one survived in the shanty towns without taking what isn’t theirs. Second, Grak was taught how to fight and fire a gun. Outremer is a violent and cruel place, after all. Grak didn’t excel in fist fighting as much as a Chirix would have been expected to, but he could hold his own. Grak, however, had a natural talent with firearms. Lastly, Grak’s employer taught him his trade. Grak learned how to take anything apart, and put it back together. Then he learned how to tell what stuff was valuable, and what wasn’t. Then Grak learned how to combine said parts into something better than the things they came from. Grak learned quickly, and mastered the art of creation. His first invention ever was something he called the ‘bug bomb.’ It was a metal sphere filled with sand parasites and a liquid substance that provided the parasites with food, and a place to breed. When thrown, the sphere would break open upon impact and the parasites would instantly take flight, looking for the nearest thing with flesh and blood. (This is good for Grak, because they don’t have a taste for carapace.) Over the years, Grak has created many inventions like the bug bomb.
After his master died, Grak took over the business and began an overhaul. He hired a large number of other Chirix (all of his brothers as well), and expanded the business’s influence. Grak’s Guns (the name of his business) has three shops in the three largest tower towns, with the most high quality one being run by Grak himself in his home town. Grak’s Guns is best known for its autopilot mech suits, which it sells at quite a high price. Grak’s most deadly weapon he has ever produced is a grenade launcher, specifically built to launch nerve-agent filled shells. These weapons, known as Reapers among tower towners, are only used by the most daring and wealthy Sand Pirates and terrorists. There is a warrant out of Grak’s arrest of the production of such weapons.
Occupation: Illegal arms dealer
Weaponry: Babylon isn’t the safest place in the galaxy, so it’s only natural that Grak would have some way to defend himself. Enter in the Eclesar class Personal Defense Weapon. The Eclesar fires a powerful electrolaser, which, when the laser hits the target, induces a plasma channel on the target. This plasma channel is highly conductive, and thus electrocutes whatever it hits. (Note: This weapon has a non-lethal setting, which lowers the voltage of the electricity sent through the target)
Augments: None
Other: Grak’s proudest creation is his personal aircraft, the The Ace . The Ace is equipped with duel .90 caliber mini auto cannons. These weapons fire at a blistering 4,000 rounds per minute. The Ace itself is about the size of a large motorcycle (discounting the guns and ammunition storage), thus making it a hard target to it, being able to move at 60 mph when equipped with its weapons. Without its weapon load, however, the Ace’s top speed is 175 mph. The vehicle comes equipped with stealth technology to avoid radar detection, as well as its own radar. The Ace’s hull is resistant to heat, however ballistic small arms fire can penetrate it after three or so hits in the same generally area. Plasma and other high-power energy weapons could destroy the Ace with a single hit. Grak’s vehicle is propelled and kept in the air through advanced hover technology.
Age: 15
Race: Chirix (Tindrel Collective)
Appearance: Grak stands at an average height of 5’7. His carapace is a brownish orange color, with hints of black. Grak’s head and neck are bleached white, to add to his individualism. In an attempt to seem more relatable to humans, Grak usually wears a pair of baggy, strangely fitting human clothes: An olive green old style military jacket, and cargo pants of the same color.
Personality: Grak is an extremely emotional, possibly bipolar (even by Chirix standards) alien. Grak seems to be afraid of even his own shadow, showing to have little gut for a fight. He’s quick to run away from his problems, and generally relies on his technology and wit over his physical feats. (Note: Grak is no where near as weak as he seems. He’s just as strong as the next Chirix.) If cornered and left without any conventional defenses, Grak will fight with tooth and nail to escape. Grak is unpredictable, cleaver, and extremely cunning. These traits are what allow him to stay away from the law for so long.
History: Like many people of Babylon, the Ruo’s were unlucky enough to have ended up in a tower town, and have stayed the majority of their lives. Grak was born the son of two illegal immigrants to Outremer. His parents were willing to do anything to keep their family of five alive. Once the children were born, Grak’s father, Kla (from where Grak received the first half his middle name), joined a crew of Sand Pirates. While this did provide the Ruo with a decent (tower town version of decent) income, this left Chyu (the latter half of Grak’s middle name. All of the children have this same middle name.) to raise the children alone. As soon as the Ruo boys were able to walk and talk, they were put to work. They each earned what jobs they could to assist the family in scrounging up enough money to live, and hopefully some day move into Babylon itself. The job Grak found was what influenced him to join the business he did. He had become the apprentice to a local arms dealer, who created the majority of the weapons on his own.
This man Grak worked for taught the little Chirix many important lessons. First, he taught Grak how to steal. No one survived in the shanty towns without taking what isn’t theirs. Second, Grak was taught how to fight and fire a gun. Outremer is a violent and cruel place, after all. Grak didn’t excel in fist fighting as much as a Chirix would have been expected to, but he could hold his own. Grak, however, had a natural talent with firearms. Lastly, Grak’s employer taught him his trade. Grak learned how to take anything apart, and put it back together. Then he learned how to tell what stuff was valuable, and what wasn’t. Then Grak learned how to combine said parts into something better than the things they came from. Grak learned quickly, and mastered the art of creation. His first invention ever was something he called the ‘bug bomb.’ It was a metal sphere filled with sand parasites and a liquid substance that provided the parasites with food, and a place to breed. When thrown, the sphere would break open upon impact and the parasites would instantly take flight, looking for the nearest thing with flesh and blood. (This is good for Grak, because they don’t have a taste for carapace.) Over the years, Grak has created many inventions like the bug bomb.
After his master died, Grak took over the business and began an overhaul. He hired a large number of other Chirix (all of his brothers as well), and expanded the business’s influence. Grak’s Guns (the name of his business) has three shops in the three largest tower towns, with the most high quality one being run by Grak himself in his home town. Grak’s Guns is best known for its autopilot mech suits, which it sells at quite a high price. Grak’s most deadly weapon he has ever produced is a grenade launcher, specifically built to launch nerve-agent filled shells. These weapons, known as Reapers among tower towners, are only used by the most daring and wealthy Sand Pirates and terrorists. There is a warrant out of Grak’s arrest of the production of such weapons.
Occupation: Illegal arms dealer
Weaponry: Babylon isn’t the safest place in the galaxy, so it’s only natural that Grak would have some way to defend himself. Enter in the Eclesar class Personal Defense Weapon. The Eclesar fires a powerful electrolaser, which, when the laser hits the target, induces a plasma channel on the target. This plasma channel is highly conductive, and thus electrocutes whatever it hits. (Note: This weapon has a non-lethal setting, which lowers the voltage of the electricity sent through the target)
Augments: None
Other: Grak’s proudest creation is his personal aircraft, the The Ace . The Ace is equipped with duel .90 caliber mini auto cannons. These weapons fire at a blistering 4,000 rounds per minute. The Ace itself is about the size of a large motorcycle (discounting the guns and ammunition storage), thus making it a hard target to it, being able to move at 60 mph when equipped with its weapons. Without its weapon load, however, the Ace’s top speed is 175 mph. The vehicle comes equipped with stealth technology to avoid radar detection, as well as its own radar. The Ace’s hull is resistant to heat, however ballistic small arms fire can penetrate it after three or so hits in the same generally area. Plasma and other high-power energy weapons could destroy the Ace with a single hit. Grak’s vehicle is propelled and kept in the air through advanced hover technology.
Cartwright said
Oh so when I say I might not like it I get brushed off when Slyph gives a face everyone dogpiles the face? I see how it is. (Rejected Cartwright :c)
Iz okay Cart.
-Head pat and such-
Slypheed said
:l
I sense that you do not like this plan.
(I know, I'm a psyker.)
For the Empire and such.
Australian introduction inbound. Sooner or later. Probably later
Australian introduction inbound. Sooner or later. Probably later
Dark Matter felt a dull pain pass through his head. The mutant threw his eyes open, to see that his room had been utterly trashed. His bed had fallen to its side, and Dark figured that was why he had crashed against the floor. He glanced around the room, and could smell smoke and hear a symphony of chaotic sounds around him. He noticed that unless there was a fire and a room filled with screaming people on the other side of a wall or his door, he shouldn’t be smelling or hearing much of anything. Especially not as well as he was. Dark glanced down at his collar, and finally figured out what had happened: His collar was off, along with the power to the rest of the building. He had his powers back! Dark gripped the metal device, and pulled with all his might. It took awhile, but eventually a crack formed in the material of the collar. Then the crack spread, and the object snapped. Dark was no Hercules, but he could break some pathetic piece of metal and electronics. Dark Matter pushed himself off the ground, feeling his power for the first time in years. It felt good. Too good. So good, in fact, that Dark began to smile genuinely for the first time since he’d been locked up.
It was all over.
All that lying, that manipulating was finally all over. He wouldn’t have to smile at those weaklings any more. He wouldn’t have to pretend to care about their pathetic, useless lives. Freedom was his, and Dark intended to use it. Of course, he wasn’t technically free until he was out of this slaughter house of a prison. With his powers, however, Dark didn’t see that as a challenge. Those guards and their guns would be about as much of a threat as a knife against a tsunami. The only problem would be any weapons built specifically to defeat Dark Matter. All they would need is a water gun or some ice and he wouldn’t stand a chance…Bah. He could charge through a wave of machine gun fire and grenades and come out alright, but anyone with a bucket of water was a threat. These powers were pathetic. A low growl exited Dark’s throat as he went for the door, only for Jason to bust it open. When the boy began to talk in his all ‘high and mighty’ tone once more, Dark felt an urge to pull his head from his shoulders. Dark Matter had no ruler, not anymore. However, what was left of Dark’s logical mind decided that protecting the other Super’s would mean that he would have a number of bodies to assist him once they escaped.”Fine.” Dark Matter spat as Jason started off. He would protect the others, at least until they became a liability.
“Anyone who wants to get out alive, get the hell out here now!” Dark Matter yelled, sounding almost feral. He sat there, waiting to see if anyone was actually going to follow him around. He doubted it. While he sat, Dark Matter began to plot his course. He knew he waited to find this Subject 906 he’d heard guards and scientists alike talk about all the time. From what he gathered, 906 was being held in a separate cell block that it had for it’s self.
It was all over.
All that lying, that manipulating was finally all over. He wouldn’t have to smile at those weaklings any more. He wouldn’t have to pretend to care about their pathetic, useless lives. Freedom was his, and Dark intended to use it. Of course, he wasn’t technically free until he was out of this slaughter house of a prison. With his powers, however, Dark didn’t see that as a challenge. Those guards and their guns would be about as much of a threat as a knife against a tsunami. The only problem would be any weapons built specifically to defeat Dark Matter. All they would need is a water gun or some ice and he wouldn’t stand a chance…Bah. He could charge through a wave of machine gun fire and grenades and come out alright, but anyone with a bucket of water was a threat. These powers were pathetic. A low growl exited Dark’s throat as he went for the door, only for Jason to bust it open. When the boy began to talk in his all ‘high and mighty’ tone once more, Dark felt an urge to pull his head from his shoulders. Dark Matter had no ruler, not anymore. However, what was left of Dark’s logical mind decided that protecting the other Super’s would mean that he would have a number of bodies to assist him once they escaped.”Fine.” Dark Matter spat as Jason started off. He would protect the others, at least until they became a liability.
“Anyone who wants to get out alive, get the hell out here now!” Dark Matter yelled, sounding almost feral. He sat there, waiting to see if anyone was actually going to follow him around. He doubted it. While he sat, Dark Matter began to plot his course. He knew he waited to find this Subject 906 he’d heard guards and scientists alike talk about all the time. From what he gathered, 906 was being held in a separate cell block that it had for it’s self.
Eh, why not.
WW3!
WW3!
Interesting. Alright.
Another question. Since the Chirix are very insect like, would that mean they're hatched en masse, or is it live birth? I know it seems unnecessary, but I don't wanna put in any false information in my CS, ya know?
Another question. Since the Chirix are very insect like, would that mean they're hatched en masse, or is it live birth? I know it seems unnecessary, but I don't wanna put in any false information in my CS, ya know?
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