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Name: Ana "Fritz" Fromm
Age: Thirty-Two
Gender: Female
Race: German-American
Personality: While on the job she is dangerously serious, most of her off time is spent hanging around bars or lounging at home. Any time that isn't spent with a gun in her hand is normally time spent sitting in a bar or lounging around in her own apartment. Sarcastic and crude, she's a natural hit among the mercenaries and whores that lounge around the streets, fitting just perfectly into the little mold laid out for her in Roanapur. However, out on a job, she's serious and punctual. Nothing stands in the way of her getting the job done, whether it be enemies or allies. This has led to some conflict, especially moral ones, with her co-workers at times, but she has always done what she's needed to. Nothing more, nothing less.
Background check: Born to a pair of Germans that had moved to the United States a few years before her time, she was raised in what may as well have been a boot camp. Her parents were very pro-militant, especially her father, and since there was no son to teach, the burden fell to her. However, Ana liked the training, even if it did keep her from having what others would consider a "normal" childhood. Luxuries such as television and rest were unknown to her; she either was asleep, training, or doing chores.
Once she hit eighteen, though, she set off on her own. It wasn't long that she was able to find a mercenary group to join up with. They were impressed with her background, but it quickly proved that in a live situation that she wasn't particularly on par. She was put under the wing of Yuri Resnov, a former Soviet soldier, with Jermaine Jackson acting as her partner. With his tutoring, the pair were able to perfect their arts, his being a sniper and hers being a soldier. On the day that he deemed her acceptable, she was gifted his old coat, while Jermaine got his beret.
After that, the mercenaries served mostly in Africa, bouncing between different rebel groups and would-be dictators. There were few fatalities; they may as well have been soldiers, with the effectiveness that they worked, and the barely trained men they went up against were like children with BB guns in comparison. Not until they were betrayed and their leader killed did things turn downhill. Yuri, Jermaine, and Ana took charge, and led the mercenaries on a crusade through the heart of Africa to the wannabe dictator that had killed their men.
In the end, only five of them remained. They began to do odd jobs for the mafias and gangs of Roanapur, Jermaine's bright idea that killed them all. It only took another year for everyone to die through one means or another, where Ana claimed Yuri's beret from Jermaine. For the next two years, she sat around the Yellow Flag sulking, the lone German in a Russian army uniform. Confused the hell out of a lot of people. That's where she found Jack, and how she was able to less-than-smoothly grab herself a job on the crew.
Skills/Abilities:
-Adept marksman
-Trained to use heavy weapons.
-Adept in melee combat
Equipment:
-Two H&K USP (Pistols) kept in holsters at her waist.
-H&K MP7 (Machine pistol), kept in a holster in her coat. Under her pillow at home.
-AK-101, only used during missions. Kept under her bed.
-Remington Model 870, kept in a holster just above her rear on missions.. Kept under sofa cushions.
-Gerber MK 2 fighting knife, kept strapped to her thigh.
-Old flip-open cell phone
-Ipod with headphones.
Role on the team: Gunman, Contact
Vehicle: N/A
Appearance: Ana stands at a normal 5'10, with short blonde hair cut choppily. Her skin is pale, giving her a bit of a creepy look to her, only accented further by the half-lidded, bored look she normally has plastered over her face. Icy blue eyes peer out from beneath her eyelids A few minor scars run across her cheeks, mementos from Africa, but other than that her skin is unblemished. Her body is lithe, small muscles bulging out from the constant training.
Her clothing is usually a pair of cargo pants and a plain shirt, covered up by a long, green army coat with some old Soviet ranking on the shoulder. A beret sits on her head, an odd fashion statement in Roanapur. Dark, rectangular shades cover her eyes when she is out of the house.
Age: Thirty-Two
Gender: Female
Race: German-American
Personality: While on the job she is dangerously serious, most of her off time is spent hanging around bars or lounging at home. Any time that isn't spent with a gun in her hand is normally time spent sitting in a bar or lounging around in her own apartment. Sarcastic and crude, she's a natural hit among the mercenaries and whores that lounge around the streets, fitting just perfectly into the little mold laid out for her in Roanapur. However, out on a job, she's serious and punctual. Nothing stands in the way of her getting the job done, whether it be enemies or allies. This has led to some conflict, especially moral ones, with her co-workers at times, but she has always done what she's needed to. Nothing more, nothing less.
Background check: Born to a pair of Germans that had moved to the United States a few years before her time, she was raised in what may as well have been a boot camp. Her parents were very pro-militant, especially her father, and since there was no son to teach, the burden fell to her. However, Ana liked the training, even if it did keep her from having what others would consider a "normal" childhood. Luxuries such as television and rest were unknown to her; she either was asleep, training, or doing chores.
Once she hit eighteen, though, she set off on her own. It wasn't long that she was able to find a mercenary group to join up with. They were impressed with her background, but it quickly proved that in a live situation that she wasn't particularly on par. She was put under the wing of Yuri Resnov, a former Soviet soldier, with Jermaine Jackson acting as her partner. With his tutoring, the pair were able to perfect their arts, his being a sniper and hers being a soldier. On the day that he deemed her acceptable, she was gifted his old coat, while Jermaine got his beret.
After that, the mercenaries served mostly in Africa, bouncing between different rebel groups and would-be dictators. There were few fatalities; they may as well have been soldiers, with the effectiveness that they worked, and the barely trained men they went up against were like children with BB guns in comparison. Not until they were betrayed and their leader killed did things turn downhill. Yuri, Jermaine, and Ana took charge, and led the mercenaries on a crusade through the heart of Africa to the wannabe dictator that had killed their men.
In the end, only five of them remained. They began to do odd jobs for the mafias and gangs of Roanapur, Jermaine's bright idea that killed them all. It only took another year for everyone to die through one means or another, where Ana claimed Yuri's beret from Jermaine. For the next two years, she sat around the Yellow Flag sulking, the lone German in a Russian army uniform. Confused the hell out of a lot of people. That's where she found Jack, and how she was able to less-than-smoothly grab herself a job on the crew.
Skills/Abilities:
-Adept marksman
-Trained to use heavy weapons.
-Adept in melee combat
Equipment:
-Two H&K USP (Pistols) kept in holsters at her waist.
-H&K MP7 (Machine pistol), kept in a holster in her coat. Under her pillow at home.
-AK-101, only used during missions. Kept under her bed.
-Remington Model 870, kept in a holster just above her rear on missions.. Kept under sofa cushions.
-Gerber MK 2 fighting knife, kept strapped to her thigh.
-Old flip-open cell phone
-Ipod with headphones.
Role on the team: Gunman, Contact
Vehicle: N/A
Appearance: Ana stands at a normal 5'10, with short blonde hair cut choppily. Her skin is pale, giving her a bit of a creepy look to her, only accented further by the half-lidded, bored look she normally has plastered over her face. Icy blue eyes peer out from beneath her eyelids A few minor scars run across her cheeks, mementos from Africa, but other than that her skin is unblemished. Her body is lithe, small muscles bulging out from the constant training.
Her clothing is usually a pair of cargo pants and a plain shirt, covered up by a long, green army coat with some old Soviet ranking on the shoulder. A beret sits on her head, an odd fashion statement in Roanapur. Dark, rectangular shades cover her eyes when she is out of the house.
I would be interested in this, if it is still alive and kicking.
Anna laced her fingers together, continuing to smile as Aura vented her anger. It was amusing, to say the least. Once the helmet was slapped down and the woman was finished, Anna undid her hands and idly tapped the table with one finger. "I can think of several reasons why you would do nothing the moment you reached this ship, most of which involve Tzeentch and a lot of plans. A pawn of Khorne wouldn't have the patience for this, an acolyte of Nurgle would have been teeming with plagues the moment they entered the ship to infect the lot of us. I doubt Slaanesh would go through the trouble of having her Astartes and one of her Greater Daemons destroyed just to get rid of a few Inquisitors when it could have had an entire planet. Leaving us with just the Lord of Fate to deal with."
She raised her hand, holding up an index finger to silence anything anyone might say. "However, you speak with conviction that I would not believe to come from anyone, save possibly the Alpha Legion. And I can tell that you are not under the influence of sorcery, so I have no reason to suspect you to be hiding any blessings from the Dark Gods. Adding all of this together, I have no reason to believe you to be one of their agents. Unfortunately, I don't believe you to be blessed by the Emperor either."
Her gaze turned towards the helmet. "Archimedes, please download the logs," she stated, and the psyber-raven descended onto the helmet. Its head was shoved inside, and after a minute, it popped back out, clicking its beak together. "Thank you. I'll review these later. However, I doubt you will be simply released. If it were my decision, I'd have to confined to the ship until further notice, and possibly send you to a monastery to let the Sisters decide whether or not you are blessed. Unfortunately, that is not my decision." She turned to look back at the Inquisitor in the corner, while Archimedes continued to glare at Aura. "What say you, boss?"
She raised her hand, holding up an index finger to silence anything anyone might say. "However, you speak with conviction that I would not believe to come from anyone, save possibly the Alpha Legion. And I can tell that you are not under the influence of sorcery, so I have no reason to suspect you to be hiding any blessings from the Dark Gods. Adding all of this together, I have no reason to believe you to be one of their agents. Unfortunately, I don't believe you to be blessed by the Emperor either."
Her gaze turned towards the helmet. "Archimedes, please download the logs," she stated, and the psyber-raven descended onto the helmet. Its head was shoved inside, and after a minute, it popped back out, clicking its beak together. "Thank you. I'll review these later. However, I doubt you will be simply released. If it were my decision, I'd have to confined to the ship until further notice, and possibly send you to a monastery to let the Sisters decide whether or not you are blessed. Unfortunately, that is not my decision." She turned to look back at the Inquisitor in the corner, while Archimedes continued to glare at Aura. "What say you, boss?"
At the use of her first name, Anna gave him an annoyed glance, but nothing more. The raven on her shoulder flapped its wings a few times, and landed on the table, giving Aura a good, long stare. Once her superior was finished with his questioning... or, rather, statements, she cleared her throat and sat in the chair directly across from Aura. Idly, her hand reached over to pet the raven between its wings, while her other hand reached behind to grab her rifle. She brought it around and down, laying it on the table near her. It seemed like an ancient hunting rifle, one someone would see on a primitive planet, not a single protective rune on it, the power of daemon coming off of it in waves.
She folded her hands in front of her, and let out a sigh. "I apologize for my friend's wasting your time, stating what you've already known," Anna opened with, her face remaining blank. "Let's get right down to it, then. Reports say you killed a number of Chaos Marines, and stopped a Greater Daemon from entering the Materium. I applaud what you've done there, Sergeant. However, as you may have noticed, it is quite the tale to believe, especially since you are simply a guardswoman, and something like that is normally handled by the Astartes, or the Malleus. Truly, I envy you. It's been a long time since I've gotten to go toe-to-toe with Greater Daemon." A smirk came over her face, and she gave Aura a strange look.
"But this isn't about me," she continued. "Even with a hellgun, dropping Astartes like that, and with only one, is unheard of. A single guardswoman should not have been able to do this, no matter how skilled. So, there are a few things that could have happened there." She held up her hand, holding up a finger for each point she would bring up. "The first, and likely the rumor circulating through your squad, is that you are blessed by the Emperor. The second is that this is all a ploy, you work for one of the Dark Gods, and you are simply trying to get higher in the Imperium and increase the Threat From Within. There is also the chance that you simply got lucky." The three fingers she held up closed into a fist, which she gently laid down on the desk.
"Now, I don't believe in something like luck, so that takes down the third point. That leaves you as either blessed by the Emperor, or a pawn of the Dark Gods. Which do you think we are more inclined to believe, Sergeant Kalstov?" A cruel smile was spread over her face, and the psyber-raven let out a menacing caw. "You have five minutes to convince me that you are blessed, or I'll hand you back over to my friend there, and I can guarantee you that you'd rather deal with me. Tick-tock, Sarge."
She folded her hands in front of her, and let out a sigh. "I apologize for my friend's wasting your time, stating what you've already known," Anna opened with, her face remaining blank. "Let's get right down to it, then. Reports say you killed a number of Chaos Marines, and stopped a Greater Daemon from entering the Materium. I applaud what you've done there, Sergeant. However, as you may have noticed, it is quite the tale to believe, especially since you are simply a guardswoman, and something like that is normally handled by the Astartes, or the Malleus. Truly, I envy you. It's been a long time since I've gotten to go toe-to-toe with Greater Daemon." A smirk came over her face, and she gave Aura a strange look.
"But this isn't about me," she continued. "Even with a hellgun, dropping Astartes like that, and with only one, is unheard of. A single guardswoman should not have been able to do this, no matter how skilled. So, there are a few things that could have happened there." She held up her hand, holding up a finger for each point she would bring up. "The first, and likely the rumor circulating through your squad, is that you are blessed by the Emperor. The second is that this is all a ploy, you work for one of the Dark Gods, and you are simply trying to get higher in the Imperium and increase the Threat From Within. There is also the chance that you simply got lucky." The three fingers she held up closed into a fist, which she gently laid down on the desk.
"Now, I don't believe in something like luck, so that takes down the third point. That leaves you as either blessed by the Emperor, or a pawn of the Dark Gods. Which do you think we are more inclined to believe, Sergeant Kalstov?" A cruel smile was spread over her face, and the psyber-raven let out a menacing caw. "You have five minutes to convince me that you are blessed, or I'll hand you back over to my friend there, and I can guarantee you that you'd rather deal with me. Tick-tock, Sarge."
*wary glance* I have returned from my internet being a dick. I shall think of post soon.
I sat here for a good twenty minutes with my headphones in without realizing they weren't plugged in. That is all.
I sat here for a good twenty minutes with my headphones in without realizing they weren't plugged in. That is all.
And I have returned from my internet not working for nearly two days. On the bright side, finally got to Sen's Fortress in Dark Souls while I had nothing better to do. TIME TO READ POSTS.
6/10
interested.
I like how RPG is the only site that my internet has decided is allowed to work. I guess it is a sign to get more things to post in.
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