shylarah
Zoie Hart
OOC?
PRAISE THE SUN!
Name: Declan "Deck" Farraden
Rank: Corporal (OR-4)
Description: Declan is tall (5' 11") and thin (154 lbs), lanky might be the most accurate description. While no could call him "ripped", he certainly isn't out of shape. His face is boyish, making him appear a few years younger than he actually is. He has a head of disheveled, dark brown hair. His eyes are a pale, muddy green.
When not in combat situations, Declan tends to dress in a fairly predictable manner. White button up shirt, dark slacks, long overcoat. In combat, he wears the standard IFP Medic Armor.
Augmentations: Declan's left arm is entirely mechanical to the shoulder. It's made from a ballistic "Dura-steel." It looks fairly similar to a normal human arm, but for its obvious metallic construction and gunmetal coloration. There isn't anything particularly interesting about the arm, save a dagger-length blade that comes out of the back of the hand. The blade self-sterilizes and cleans itself when sheathed and though it is designed as a medical tool, it can quite easily be used as a weapon.
Personality: Declan is, by nature, a nervous person. A greater pessimist ne'er there was, in the eyes of his friends at any rate. If a plan came, Declan found flaws. If there was hope, Declan made sure to never trust it. If things went well for too long, Declan expected something to go horribly wrong. Put simply, Declan didn't like to be disappointed. By expecting the worst of every situation, he was either always right or pleasantly surprised.
Granted, all this doom and gloom didn't affect his sense of humor. Sarcasm, puns, gallows humor, all weapons in Declan's arsenal of humor. He's never quite taken himself, or anyone else, seriously.
Declan is, at heart, a coward. He'd like nothing better than to flee at the first sight of battle or to shy away from the grim realities of war. He's never done either of those things, because (though he'd never admit it) he cares deeply for any and all of his comrades. Declan would never leave if there are lives yet to save, people yet to protect.
Bio: Declan lived a fairly uninteresting normal life. He had a few friends, parents who (to the best of his knowledge) loved him, and a bright future. He breezed through school, keeping a fairly steady 3.8 GPA until he graduated high-school. With full-ride scholarships to the most prestigious Universities on his home planet of Manifest, he was expected to become a successful doctor. Declan, however, had no such plans. He joined the military with his childhood friend, Erik Weissman.
Declan passed basic training with decent marks, being selected for special Combat Medic training. After he had been taught to competently stitch someone up, he was thrown into a squad with Weissman, Allison Wooding (a friend he had made in basic) and other two other acquaintances from Manifest. Erik rose to the rank of Sergeant while Declan and Wooding were promoted to Corporals. They fought about as well as could be expected, a few skirmishes with pirates, riot patrol, and dealing with insurrectionists.
One such insurrection was the annexation of a nameless farming moon by the (now defunct) Alpha Centauri Liberation Front. The ACLF had never quite been considered a threat and wanted to change that. Seven squads were sent to quell the uprising, and to the surprise of the IPF, they were defeated quickly. Declan's squad was one of those seven. He was the only survivor. Reinforcements came and crushed the ACLF. Declan was shuffled around between several squads, never quite fitting in any of them. That's where he's been to this day, drifting about, waiting for some sense of belonging.
PRAISE THE SUN!
Name: Declan "Deck" Farraden
Rank: Corporal (OR-4)
Description: Declan is tall (5' 11") and thin (154 lbs), lanky might be the most accurate description. While no could call him "ripped", he certainly isn't out of shape. His face is boyish, making him appear a few years younger than he actually is. He has a head of disheveled, dark brown hair. His eyes are a pale, muddy green.
When not in combat situations, Declan tends to dress in a fairly predictable manner. White button up shirt, dark slacks, long overcoat. In combat, he wears the standard IFP Medic Armor.
Augmentations: Declan's left arm is entirely mechanical to the shoulder. It's made from a ballistic "Dura-steel." It looks fairly similar to a normal human arm, but for its obvious metallic construction and gunmetal coloration. There isn't anything particularly interesting about the arm, save a dagger-length blade that comes out of the back of the hand. The blade self-sterilizes and cleans itself when sheathed and though it is designed as a medical tool, it can quite easily be used as a weapon.
Personality: Declan is, by nature, a nervous person. A greater pessimist ne'er there was, in the eyes of his friends at any rate. If a plan came, Declan found flaws. If there was hope, Declan made sure to never trust it. If things went well for too long, Declan expected something to go horribly wrong. Put simply, Declan didn't like to be disappointed. By expecting the worst of every situation, he was either always right or pleasantly surprised.
Granted, all this doom and gloom didn't affect his sense of humor. Sarcasm, puns, gallows humor, all weapons in Declan's arsenal of humor. He's never quite taken himself, or anyone else, seriously.
Declan is, at heart, a coward. He'd like nothing better than to flee at the first sight of battle or to shy away from the grim realities of war. He's never done either of those things, because (though he'd never admit it) he cares deeply for any and all of his comrades. Declan would never leave if there are lives yet to save, people yet to protect.
Bio: Declan lived a fairly uninteresting normal life. He had a few friends, parents who (to the best of his knowledge) loved him, and a bright future. He breezed through school, keeping a fairly steady 3.8 GPA until he graduated high-school. With full-ride scholarships to the most prestigious Universities on his home planet of Manifest, he was expected to become a successful doctor. Declan, however, had no such plans. He joined the military with his childhood friend, Erik Weissman.
Declan passed basic training with decent marks, being selected for special Combat Medic training. After he had been taught to competently stitch someone up, he was thrown into a squad with Weissman, Allison Wooding (a friend he had made in basic) and other two other acquaintances from Manifest. Erik rose to the rank of Sergeant while Declan and Wooding were promoted to Corporals. They fought about as well as could be expected, a few skirmishes with pirates, riot patrol, and dealing with insurrectionists.
One such insurrection was the annexation of a nameless farming moon by the (now defunct) Alpha Centauri Liberation Front. The ACLF had never quite been considered a threat and wanted to change that. Seven squads were sent to quell the uprising, and to the surprise of the IPF, they were defeated quickly. Declan's squad was one of those seven. He was the only survivor. Reinforcements came and crushed the ACLF. Declan was shuffled around between several squads, never quite fitting in any of them. That's where he's been to this day, drifting about, waiting for some sense of belonging.
