Morric Member
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- Morric 11 yrs ago
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Im gunna make a field agent and a security officer if thats cool.
Markus raised an eye brow as Flint denied him an answer. "Of course that's confidential..." As he was ordered to follow, Markus complied. There was no reason to resist which led him to wonder why these guards were so heavily armed. "We're not in danger are we?" He asked only to receive the same answer. "Well that's comforting..." All the corridors, rooms, and hallways they passed through seemed to mimic eachother as the gained access through each door. Some hallways were more populated then others, filled with workers rushing off to unknown places. In the distance, the echoes of intercom orders called out over the hum of conversing personnel. "Wow...are we almost there?" To his dismay, not even the simplest questions received a different answer, as he was continually presented with the same sentence 'That is confidential Information.' Markus sighed. "Should I just give up asking you questions? Wait lemme guess...that is confidential Information." He said in a mocking tone as they arrived at C-17.
Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door followed by the stern voice of a security officer. Markus looked away from the tv briefly as the guard barked his orders and prepared to open the door. A quick gaze was shot up to the clock on the other side of the room. "Wow...it's morning?" He asked himself, scratching his head and stretching. "Maybe if there were some windows I could tell the freakin time of day..." Standing up and fastening his foundation standard class 1 jumpsuit. Giving a rather drawn out yawn, Markus turned off the tv, tossed the remote into his sofa, and finished off the last of his dull beer. With the bottle empty, Mark tossed it aside and looked to the door just as it slid open to reveal the officers that had come for him.
The light in the hallway was bright compared to the dank confines of the habitation cell. It cause Mark to squint as he stepped out into the corridor. "It sure took you guys long enough. I almost died of boredom in there." Rubbing his eyes he gave a detached chuckle. "So what's the big occasion? Someone having a birthday or...?"
The light in the hallway was bright compared to the dank confines of the habitation cell. It cause Mark to squint as he stepped out into the corridor. "It sure took you guys long enough. I almost died of boredom in there." Rubbing his eyes he gave a detached chuckle. "So what's the big occasion? Someone having a birthday or...?"
I'll have another post up later. Just woke up *yawn*
I shortened and reposted my intro from the casual version here. I hope that's cool. I started to post the whole thing but I feel like that's gunna scare off the free role players.
Markus has spent the last couple weeks hold up in one of the Foundations many level 1 habitation units. To the foundation, it was a habitation unit. But to Markus, it seemed more like a white collar prison cell. There was two doors and no windows. Instead, the walls were a dull white as well as the majority of the furniture. There was a bathroom behind the door that wasn't the entrance, though it was rather cramped. He had a bed, a small low quality sofa chair, and a small desk littered with papers covered in drawings. Sitting next to a small TV set at the back of the room was an old acoustic guitar. Scattered about the room were dozens of beer cans. Sitting in the sofa chair with his leg kicked up over the armrest, Mark flipped through the channels on the television with a rather disinterested look on his face.
Name - Markus Geist #9341
Age - 27
Gender - Male
Class - ⓵Test Subject
Appearance
Information - Leading a rather unremarkable life, Mark spent most of his childhood sleeping through classes and getting into fights. Attending a prestigious academy for boys, Mark constantly found himself being the target for bullies. He didn't get into the school through good grades, but rather through his wealthy parents. His father was the co-owner of a global marketing firm and his mother was lead designer on a top fashion company. Though with all their money and busy lifestyles, they never thought to pay any real attention to their child. Instead, Mark was raised by the various nanny's that were hired to take care of him. As time went on, he developed a disinterest in the world and stopped being productive, spending most of his time scribbling random doodles and drawings onto the pages of countless notebooks and school books. Despite his increasingly detached behavior, nothing ever changed.
At the age of 18, Markus decided to leave and find a place where everything didn't seem so monotonous. Taking a chunk of money, the clothes on his back, a guitar he never learned how to play, and a motorcycle he got for his 16th birthday. After a few years of roaming the US northern countryside, Markus found himself low on funds and in need of a place to stay. It hadn't helped that he spent most of the time partying, drinking, smoking, and staying at hotels every night. So he decided to make some change by selling his random scribbles on the beach to tourists. They would already buy anything, but his drawing were unique. They almost seemed to tell a story, somewhere in the splotches and spirals that littered his artworks. If that didn't work, he could always just draw them a picture of themselves as it usually wasn't hard...and people love to see themselves. With his free time, Markus learned to play the guitar, and was able to earn more money. Soon he had everything he needed but a home.
It was about a year after this that Markus was approached by one of the Foundation recruiters. They didn't say much and were gone as fast as they came. But in their wake, managed to leave a pamphlet that peaked his interest. It promised money, food, shelter, and a whole bunch of other mumbo jumbo. Among it all was the promise of science and adventure. It was a very vague read, not telling much about who it was that was offering these jobs or what it was that they did. All that was listed was a location. After being picked up with a group of other recruits, Markus soon found himself being reigned in and debriefed as a level 1 test subject class personnel. The experience was new and unknown and for the first time in many years, he felt excited.
Now, with all documents finalized and background checks done, Mark now awaits his first assignment at the new strange place. Unsure of what to expect, he maintains a "Bring it on" attitude.
(I'll put a sheet up here too...just incase things get rolling.)
Age - 27
Gender - Male
Class - ⓵Test Subject
Appearance
Information - Leading a rather unremarkable life, Mark spent most of his childhood sleeping through classes and getting into fights. Attending a prestigious academy for boys, Mark constantly found himself being the target for bullies. He didn't get into the school through good grades, but rather through his wealthy parents. His father was the co-owner of a global marketing firm and his mother was lead designer on a top fashion company. Though with all their money and busy lifestyles, they never thought to pay any real attention to their child. Instead, Mark was raised by the various nanny's that were hired to take care of him. As time went on, he developed a disinterest in the world and stopped being productive, spending most of his time scribbling random doodles and drawings onto the pages of countless notebooks and school books. Despite his increasingly detached behavior, nothing ever changed.
At the age of 18, Markus decided to leave and find a place where everything didn't seem so monotonous. Taking a chunk of money, the clothes on his back, a guitar he never learned how to play, and a motorcycle he got for his 16th birthday. After a few years of roaming the US northern countryside, Markus found himself low on funds and in need of a place to stay. It hadn't helped that he spent most of the time partying, drinking, smoking, and staying at hotels every night. So he decided to make some change by selling his random scribbles on the beach to tourists. They would already buy anything, but his drawing were unique. They almost seemed to tell a story, somewhere in the splotches and spirals that littered his artworks. If that didn't work, he could always just draw them a picture of themselves as it usually wasn't hard...and people love to see themselves. With his free time, Markus learned to play the guitar, and was able to earn more money. Soon he had everything he needed but a home.
It was about a year after this that Markus was approached by one of the Foundation recruiters. They didn't say much and were gone as fast as they came. But in their wake, managed to leave a pamphlet that peaked his interest. It promised money, food, shelter, and a whole bunch of other mumbo jumbo. Among it all was the promise of science and adventure. It was a very vague read, not telling much about who it was that was offering these jobs or what it was that they did. All that was listed was a location. After being picked up with a group of other recruits, Markus soon found himself being reigned in and debriefed as a level 1 test subject class personnel. The experience was new and unknown and for the first time in many years, he felt excited.
Now, with all documents finalized and background checks done, Mark now awaits his first assignment at the new strange place. Unsure of what to expect, he maintains a "Bring it on" attitude.
(I'll put a sheet up here too...just incase things get rolling.)
Can we have more then one character? Im feeling like this organization should be teaming with people
I hope you dont mind the reference. I thought it would be ironically amusing.
Things were rather dull. It had been a couple weeks now since Markus's qualification papers went through and he had expected something to happen by now. So far, he has spent the last couple weeks hold up in one of the Foundations many level 1 habitation units. To the foundation, it was a habitation unit. But to Markus, it seemed more like a white collar prison cell. There was two doors and no windows. Instead, the walls were a dull white as well as the majority of the furniture. There was a bathroom behind the door that wasn't the entrance, though it was rather cramped. He had a bed, a small low quality sofa chair, and a small desk littered with papers covered in drawings. Sitting next to a small TV set at the back of the room was an old acoustic guitar. Scattered about the room were dozens of beer cans.
Sitting in the sofa chair with his leg kicked up over the armrest, Mark flipped through the channels on the television. Thankfully, the tv was one of the few things that weren't censored or provided by the Foundation. That would probably be absurd. A bunch of personnel fumbling about, attempting to film something that could be considered interesting. Knowing the research department, it would likely be a bunch of techno babble and informative shows with a warning here and there about obeying foundation rules. The later, they actually managed to apply, as Mark found himself unable to flick the channel for one of the foundations incoming safety messages!
'All information regarding the Foundation is classified beyond the perimeter of the Foundation. Any personnel attempting to transfer intelligence off the property without clearance will be neutralized immediately. Adhere to the safety protocols and have a nice day!' Markus sighed as regular programming came back on. The first couple days, the messages were a bit intimidating but he was used to them now. At this point, he didn't even think there was any intelligence to steal anyway. All he had seen was the walls of his cell, the reruns on tv, the food delivered when he requested it, and the occasional security officer who would come to check on him.
In spite of it all, there wasn't any turning back now. They let Markus know in the briefing that once he had entered the facility, he was sworn to a vow of silence and by being there, he had already been exposed to valuable information...and it seemed pretty obvious what they would do to someone who broke that vow. So instead, he waited, bored but patient, for someone to give him an assignment. In the meantime, he simply enjoyed an episode of warehouse 13 and nursed the dull beer in his hand.
Sitting in the sofa chair with his leg kicked up over the armrest, Mark flipped through the channels on the television. Thankfully, the tv was one of the few things that weren't censored or provided by the Foundation. That would probably be absurd. A bunch of personnel fumbling about, attempting to film something that could be considered interesting. Knowing the research department, it would likely be a bunch of techno babble and informative shows with a warning here and there about obeying foundation rules. The later, they actually managed to apply, as Mark found himself unable to flick the channel for one of the foundations incoming safety messages!
'All information regarding the Foundation is classified beyond the perimeter of the Foundation. Any personnel attempting to transfer intelligence off the property without clearance will be neutralized immediately. Adhere to the safety protocols and have a nice day!' Markus sighed as regular programming came back on. The first couple days, the messages were a bit intimidating but he was used to them now. At this point, he didn't even think there was any intelligence to steal anyway. All he had seen was the walls of his cell, the reruns on tv, the food delivered when he requested it, and the occasional security officer who would come to check on him.
In spite of it all, there wasn't any turning back now. They let Markus know in the briefing that once he had entered the facility, he was sworn to a vow of silence and by being there, he had already been exposed to valuable information...and it seemed pretty obvious what they would do to someone who broke that vow. So instead, he waited, bored but patient, for someone to give him an assignment. In the meantime, he simply enjoyed an episode of warehouse 13 and nursed the dull beer in his hand.
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