Scrub Mage

The Helium Frightful

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The Witnessed Day was called forth from his pseudo-slumber by a shrill, mouthy noise. He stood up, allowing his full figure to take shape, and allowing the robes around him to flow as they were intended to. His eyes struggled to find their vision in the Real, but quickly settled on a shape. He did not approach, he did not wave, he simply stood. How long had he been humming, before this small thing approached him? Had he the physiology to, he would have grunted. Instead, his mind thrummed with agitation, too buried beneath obstructions to be heard. He called forth the memory of the noise sensations, putting them together. He considered the words of the lesser creature before him; had he a mouth, he would practically be chewing them. He did not speak for a few moments, considering what sort of impression it might be best to make.

“I suppose this to mean we are comrades.”

Without a mouth, the thought had to be directed to the mind of this lesser being. The Witnessed Day hoped that it was advanced enough to process the thought without it breaking into fragments, or better still, without overloading the poor thing’s mind. The thought itself was seeped in agitation, and the posture of The Witnessed Day was outwardly defensive. His eyes had forgotten the sky, they had forgotten the grass. The only thing within vision was being estimated. It proclaimed itself friend, but it might very well be foe. As per his standard mode of operation, The Witnessed Day erected a series of barriers within himself, on the off-chance that this creature would try to probe his mind. Such an invasion would be a relief – proof of other forms of life worth interacting with – but it would still be most unwelcome.

“I am The Witnessed Day.”

At this thought, The Witnessed Day’s defensive posture grew even more so. His eyes widened, to take in more of the surroundings, but still retained their focus on this possible threat. Agitation thrummed loudly within him, and for a moment, seeped into being. His eyes took in the bow, presented to him in a fashion that suggested peace. He did not offer one in return for two reasons: (1) He did not trust this creature. (2) He was this creature’s superior. Instead, he transformed his stance into the ritualistic greeting of the Nebula Shaman:

A stiffening of the form to present authority, followed by a curt nod in the general direction of the being that is being acknowledged. There is no eye contact made through the course of the gesture, for eye contact is forbidden in most Nebula Shaman rituals. The arms remain crossed at the chest, and in the case of The Witnessed Day, the second pair crosses over the lower torso, as if forming an armor of arms – this was supposed to represent a defense against the world. As his head tilted, beads clashed as if offering a greeting of their own.

This was, of all the greetings he knew, the most obscure, but also the friendliest he was willing to dispense on most occasions. It was a sign of acknowledgement, but that was the furthest it went. If this creature before him was well-versed in such ritualistic greetings, but not their cultural connotations, it might take offense. If this creature was well-versed in the greetings, as well as the obscure culture of the Nebula Shaman, it would understand that this is deeply respectful gesture that meant something like, “Keep to yourself, and I will do the same”. If the creature was not versed in either, as was oft the case, then it could be taken in whichever way the observer wanted. At the end of the gesture, drawn out as it was, The Witnessed Day let out a weary hum. This time, it was like a sin wave drawn out to the ends of time. In certain spots, it was accented with restrained frustration. His thoughts did not wander, for a stray thought could lead to a hole in the wall. He was not one for many words (especially because he preferred sensations that lesser forms of life couldn't interpret properly), so this was the most he offered. In his weariness toward the stranger, The Witnessed Day forgot nearly all else, and his legs, unattended, collapsed beneath him. Bitterly, he stood quickly, remembering how to.

What Are You Listening To?

The Book Club

Most of the readings I've done in the past year have been for philosophy classes I've been taking, but I've managed to squeeze in a few that are for fun. Here's three books which I really like, starting with two of my absolute favorites (Philosophical Investigations, and Beneath the Underdog), and something which I think is a worthwhile read all around. It's 2 AM, so I'm not going to go too in-depth with them, but here's tiny synopses which don't do the books any justice at all anyways.

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Philosophical Investigations

By Ludwig Wittgenstein

Language is a game, and we all have our own set of rules. That's such a poor summary of the ideas in the book, because it's pretty much the ranting of a disgruntled philosopher that grew tired of the philosophical community. The book itself is interesting if you want to learn more about how we use language, but it's a philosophy book, so it's on the drier end of the spectrum (unless you're me/have an obsession with the guy). If you want to get better at language games, this is the book. Seriously, if you're not familiar with it by name, it's been fed to you by the culture around you whether you like it or not. If you've ever thought about stuff like, "What is the definition of is?", or "Is language descriptive or prescriptive?", then you'll take a lot out of this. I could go on about this book for ages, but I know I won't do it justice.

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Beneath the Underdog: His World as Composed by Mingus

By Charles Mingus

Without a doubt my favorite composer, Charles Mingus was a jazz musician that grew up in California during the 1920's. The work is an autobiography, but it's a wild ride. While there's probably a good chunk that's exaggerated, it still offers insight into the mind of Mingus. He talks about being a pimp, struggling as a Jazz musician, racial tensions, signing himself into an insane asylum because he wanted a place to sleep, and a lot of sex. It's honestly one of the few books that captivated me entirely, and I read it over the course of three days. It's a relatively short read, but it offers a huge amount of insight into the west-coast jazz community, if you're interested in that sort of thing. The narrative itself is wild as well, and the book is assembled in an almost haphazard way. It'll also give you a tail of great musicians to follow, if you haven't already. The book is filled with wisdom from a bygone age, sad recollections of what was, and bitter optimism for what will be. Overall, it is a poetic account of a struggle-filled life.

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Ishmael

By Daniel Quinn

I wouldn't be surprised if you knew about this book already, it's pretty popular, but I only actually read it this last fall. I could say so much about this book, but I think this captures it pretty well:

"Teacher seeks pupil. Must have an earnest desire to save the world. Apply in person."

And if that doesn't get you...

Spoiler About the First Few Pages That Isn't Really a Spoiler But It's Still Kind of a Spoiler

The teacher is a psychic gorilla.

The Helium Frightful

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One, two, three – forward. Two, four, six – support. Two, four, six – forward. One, two, three – support. Hold.

Shuffling along, tired eyes watched the synthetic grass dance. Beads dangling down from a pair of developing antlers would, in some contexts, symbolize a prolific Nebula Shaman, but here, it represented a dream out of place. This was the spot, wasn’t it? A peaceful place where even the ghosts of the long dead sang softly into the wind, glad to have lived. Or perhaps, it was just another fabrication of the mind. The Witnessed Day watched the world pass by for a moment, taking the time to let his mind rest. His legs were far from tired, having been dreamed for walking, but his mind was exhausted. When he finally slept, he would be sure to dream a more complex mind. But, as it was now, he was dozing off. Dozing? Dozing. That’s how the word had entered his mind; he was here in Dozing.

Perhaps, if he sat long enough, he would melt into the grass.

Words entered his mind, but they were not his own. This, he knew. Melodic words, accompanied by string spirts, wood spirits, and brass spirits. Then, they disappeared. He had no quarrels with this. The newfound lack of words allowed him to tune into the primitive words of the nebulae around him. The feathered nebulae reminded him, vaguely, of his youth. He held them hostage with suspicious eyes, wondering what they were up to. His eyes followed them, trying to find their words, but quickly found themselves lost in the architecture of the ruins around him. Ruins brought him a sort of melancholic longing, but he could not understand why.

Dozing in Dozing, The Witnessed Day wondered at whom he might meet. The thought started with the present: “Who will I meet upon this living ship?” However, the thought quickly spiraled out of control. “Who will I meet in this cycle of wakefulness? What about the next cycle? Will there be another cycle? Am I doomed to incompleteness for the rest of time? What happens if I do not dream? Will I die? Can I die from staying awake? What is it like to be lesser? Can a lesser being stay awake this long? Does reality break down when they do? What do you think?” The last thought was directed toward nothing, but perhaps he thought to direct it at someone. He worried not if someone heard it, for he was no longer focused on walking, and his mind was free to wander as his legs no longer did.

He sat as if a yellow totem. His features were etched hard into his face, but unchanging. This was the closest he could get to sleep, so it was a quasi-retreat into himself. His sensory memory still functioned, but he relegated it to the depths of his active conscious, trying to forget what it was like to be aware for a few moments. The wind brushed his ceremonial beads, bringing forth distant memories of the day he took his name. He did not try to call his name forth, letting it rest at the depth of his soul. It was important that it rested, lest it bring him unpleasant thoughts. Such was the burden of a name, truly bound to one so intensely that it keeps the one tethered to a reality it seeks to escape from. He thought of it almost as a shackle, sometimes forgetting the value it holds. But such thoughts might rouse the name from its slumber to seek retribution for such an insult. The truth is that the name was him. Well, a snapshot, at least. A guide. A way to find the parts which had fled. It was only a shackle so long as he remained incomplete.

At such heavy thoughts, The Witnessed Day laid down in the grass, easing the load from his back, and letting the sky meet his eyes. Shapes danced beyond his vision, but still within his awareness. His thoughts turned to fate, and his eyes turned from hopeful dreaming to bitter malcontent. The feeling emanated from his being, more profusely than any amount of language. Even the dancing grass seemed to falter in its service to the wind, but perhaps that was just his imagination. After this quick marathon of thoughts, The Witnessed Day found true rest. He stopped thinking about such things, and instead let his mind hum. A simple hum, like a sin wave sleeping on a pile of dreams. If one were to inch close enough to listen, they might hear his inner thoughts, which were a discordant melody, which sought to explain perfection, but by its very nature was imperfect.

The Helium Frightful

I'll have a post up either late tonight or sometime tomorrow.

What Are You Listening To?

What Are You Listening To?

[Reboot] Ｔｅｒｒａ ＿ ｒ：Ｅｖｏｌｕｔｉｏｎ

Takeshi Yoshida

^{[ "I make stuff you smell, and stuff you don't." ]}

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎:

Takeshi Yoshida

𝙰𝚐𝚎:

24

𝚂𝚎𝚡:

Male

𝙰𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:

Zero

𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:

Underneath his gear, Takeshi is a short, pallid figure, who clearly doesn't have the funds to support both his hobbies, and his diet. He is not exceptional in any ways. His eyes are brown, and he is shaved completely bald, meeting job requirements. His face is mostly unblemished, not being one to engage in fights. His features are vaguely roman, but much more clearly draw heritage from JPN22. What little facial hair he is capable of growing is routinely shaved, so toxic particles do not have an extra place to cling. He stands at roughly 5'6". He does not get much sleep, as can be discerned from the always-tired expression he wears. It is clear that he does not care much for his own body aside from work requirements. Standing in stark contrast to all of this, he has very deep laugh lines, and it is clear that he smiles frequently.

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢:

Takeshi is a storm of a man. He works primarily in a way that suits his eye, throwing whatever plans he had to the wind. This doesn't mean that he's careless, but rather, that he's overly adaptable. He is the working sort, and hates leisure time. When there is cause to celebrate, Takeshi is constantly looking for the next problem to solve. He has little regard for his own state of being, but cares immensely for those close to him. He is irritable, and sometimes a hassle to be around. He is envious of those who are content with life, as he can never find contentment in himself. He must always be better than he is, and this leads to somewhat stunted growth. Aside from this, Takeshi loves the past more than the present, and is uncertain about the future. He collects old things, but is too bashful to admit it.

PERSISTENT • TEMPERAMENTAL • AMBITIOUS • IMPULSIVE

𝙱𝚒𝚘:

Born in District 9 of EuroCorp, Takeshi was saved from the worst of the squalor. He understood that there were others who had less than him, and for a time, it pained him. Of course, those were the idle thoughts of a child who hadn’t yet had to struggle with economic structures established long before he was. It was here, in the days of his childhood, that he met his dearest friend: His sister. He was two, in fact, when he met her. He does not remember those days, but he looks back at them fondly. Her name was Chika, and he loved her with all his heart, as a good brother would. He became fascinated with Chemistry as soon as he learned what it was, and he helped to nurture that same interest within her.

However, despite this love for Chemistry, Takeshi joined an engineering trade school, where he became involved with Ventilation Installation. For three years, until he was twenty-one, he brought clean air to the people. It was, in a sense, a way for him to live out his childhood fantasies of helping others in need, but the fact that these people were charged money for this service lurked in the back of his head. He was no hero, and this burdened his thoughts for a time. If only he could topple generations worth of systemic economic oppression.

Of course, such a desire can only be fulfilled through excessive fantasy, and Takeshi was never one for such a thing. Instead, he looked for smaller ways to improve the lives of those around him. This calling found him when he was lucky enough to pass by a food stall sponsored by Zero. The smells were something that brought him joy in the neon lit streets, and he found himself at the food stalls at the end of every working day. He barely had enough money to pay for rent, so he would simply take in the smells before stopping to get a Zero Burger.

Of course, his “smelling spot” went out of business, Takeshi had a bit of a relapse into hopelessness. Instead of giving in, however, he devoted his spiraling energy toward perfecting smells. He started small, purchasing synthesized perfumes, and spritzing it into the heart of some of the ventilation systems he had to work on. It was an innocent attempt at improving lives, and – to a degree – it worked. His familiarity with how the systems worked allowed him to make sure that lovely smells got to where they were most needed.

Zero noticed his talent for smells, offered him a fully-paid education in Odor Engineering, and hired him shortly after he completed the program. Now, he works as one of the few Odor Engineers, and is glad to spread cheer to those who a̕ŕe̴ ͢i̸ń ͞ne̡e̢d̶ ̶o̴f ͞a̧ l͟ov͡ely ́sme͝ll̵.̵ Pa҉rt̡n̛ere̶d̴ w̸ith̷ ͘Z͡er̀o, tḩe͘re͜'̵s̡ ņoth͞i҉n͘g he ca̧n̸'͜t̨ do!̀ ̷H̀e͢ i̶s̴ ͢r̴e͡s̢pon̶s̛i͞ble͞ f͘ǫr t͞h̛͟e ̛̀ļo̶̢v҉e̛͏̀l͠y ҉̵s͡͡ḿ̡é͞l̷͞l̡s̶͘ t͞h͢a̸̢t̨͟͏ ҉a͘d̸̡̕or̢n̢͢ ̛a͟l̷͡l̕̕ ̢͟o̸̶f̡͡ ̶̨Z̷er͜͟͠ơ'͠s͠ ̛͢Eu̢̕͝r͏o͏̧Co̡͢rp ͏͠l͘͢o͠ca҉ti҉̀oń̶ş̀, ̡ą̕l̵͞͝o͘͡͠ń̛g҉śid̷e͏̴͡ ̵o͟t̷̨͢h͞e͞͞ŕ̨͘ ̷̡O҉d҉̕or͞͠ ̡̨҉En̵̛g̸i̸͟n͠e͞e͠r̛͟s̛͘͞.̢ A̸̷͝ļ̶o̧͟͏́n̢̨͢͞g͠͠s̷̨͜͠i҉҉̨́͟d̀e̴̡͘͠ ͠͡҉̕͟h̶̶̛i̡s̛͡͡ ̶͏͢͜͡ś͞͏͜i̸̶͠͡ś̷͜t̷̡҉e̕͡ŗ͘͝ ̶̕͞͠C͏̵̧͢h̸̕i҉k͏̶͘͘͢a̡͟ ͏́̕͘͞(̡ą̛͝͏ ̕͏̀͝҉Ţ̵́͠ą̸͜͡s̸͝t̢̛͠͝e͘͏̡̡̕ ̴̷͜͠E̷͞n̵͜g̵͡i͢͞n̨͢e̸̴̢͢è̕͟ŕ̡ ̢̡͟͡t̶́͢͠h̛̕͏͟á̢t̨̧̢́͟ ̷̴͠͠͝w̸̢̧a̡̡͟s͘͏ ҉̶̨͘͟a̸̡̕͞l̕͢͏̢s̸̵͢ó҉̀ ̨̢p̴̢̀͢i͏̛͠ć̵̸̕͜k̸͠e͜͜͠d̸͘͏̸́ ̵́ú̸͟͡͏p͏̨̀͠ ͘͟͢͞f̴o̵̡ŕ̛͟ ̷͞͡h̀͘e̷̕r̷̢ ̵̢̀͘t́̀͟a̡͟l̶͘͝ę́ņ̶̶̛t̴̛̕͜ ҉̴b҉̵͢͢҉y̶ ́͟͝Z̵̕͟e͏̷͘͞r҉́o͞͝͝͝)̵̡̛̀͢,̷̨̛͡͠ ̡҉Z̴̡͢͢҉e̢̛͜͢͝r̶̕ò̴̧̀'̨͝͡҉s͘͞ ̵̨̧̧a͢҉̀p̷̢͘͞p̀́r̶̷͘̕͜ǫ̴̀͜͝v̨͘͠a̶͜͟͝l͟͠ ̢҉͏r̡͢a̧̨̡̛t̨į̛̀͠ń̸̡͟g̴̡̀͢͠s͜͠͠ ̸̢̛͘͞ḩ̀͝a̵̵̶͞v͘͡͡͠҉e͠ ̡͘͏̢i҉̷̨̀͜ǹ̵͟͝c̷̵͢҉r̡̀͢͢e̸̕a̧͟s̨̨̕͟è͢ḑ̀̕͡ ̧́͘͠͝b͠͠y̵̵̛ ҉̬̲̟̤̞̤͕̥̼̤̻̖͠ͅͅ.̸̴̢̨̟̪̖͕͍̦͈͔̭̱̰̣̥͟1̧̛̻̦͍͘2̡̛̜͓͚̹̼͈̖̬̱͕̝̭͇̭͉̮̀͡͞%҉̶͔͙͉͎̰͙̯̰̝̘̀,̷͝҉̭͔̦̝͙͔͍̘̣̩̥͔͍̫̪̪̣͇ ̷̨̟̺̤̮̘̱̻̰̦̪̱̺̦̯͈̀͜͢í̵̦̳̭̻͞ǹ̷̶̢̼̝͓̩̦̕d͏̡̭̻͓̣i͟͏̶̩̭͇͔̱̭̺͈̟̠̤̠̥͚ç͔̟̠̰̲͘͠a̲̖̦̙̜͉̝͇̗̹͡͞ͅṱ̶̛̦̰̀ͅi͢҉̲̬̥͕ń̛̜͖̝̺͚̮̩̝̠͇̗̫͍̺͍͉͢͜g̴͟͜͜͏̗̯̭̥̣̳͍̺̘̙̤̻̜̟̝̳̭ ̷̸̧̺̦̦͕̰͎̼͖̫͡ͅt̜̪̰̱̪̖̩̥͚̲͎͓͟͠h̴̳̱͔̻̝̘̰̘͓̘̟̲̯͓̗̠͜͠e̛̞̤͕͔̲͖͇̼͉̟̪͟i҉̸͙͍̙̘̯̖̠͙͇̣̥̫͇͔̟̠͍́͞ͅr̛͙̝̮̼̟̥̠̲̺͘ ̢͡͞҉̸̻͓͓̭͇͍̬̺̹̗į͈̟̤̫͔̤̱͙̦̝m̀҉͙̥̬̤̮p̛͝҉̢̗̼̞̤̠͔̥̥͉̬͚͈͙̩̠̀ͅo̸̸̷̪̲̺̳̖͓̩̙̱͘ͅr̷̵̰͎̮̼͡ţ̴̨̫̩͓̗͓̝͎̥͚̜͙̝̱͜͢ͅà͇̰̯̪̞͚̰̠̟̲̙̦̩̝̼͔͢ͅn̻͔̦̼̦̣̖̖̜̺͓̞͍̤̮̪͖̳̕͜͝c̢̝͉͇̱̦̼͙̘̝̭̰̳̘͕͚̮̟̘e̸͈͚̰̤͚͎̭̠͚̝̤̤͕̰̟̦͎̕ͅ ̴̧͍͓̠̣̟t̶̯̜̦̮̼̘͙̤͙͜ơ̢̨̦͓̰̝͠ͅ ̸͇̣̙̯͈̰̮̙͚̣̫̹̀͝t̨̠̲͍̱̲̰̩̜̮͍̼͈̪͓̀́ͅh̶͍̥͉̟̻͖̜͙͖̲̝̫̘́͞e̡̘̥̤̻̺̫̦͖͖̩̮̘̘̮̮̭̲͙͡͡ ̷̨̫̙͖͇̪̱̣̤̗͈̪̞̦͉̤̪͎́͞ͅͅç̸̩̮̘̠̪̟̞̀o̻̪̘̪̭͕͔͉̙̲̪̮͈͈̹͝ͅm̴̕͏̛͙͕͈̥̼̰̫̯̤̩̩͈͔̣͎̣̱̦͜p̶̟̥̺̦̪̳͉̲̺̗̀̀͘à̶̘͇̯̬̭͖͍̮̻͈̼̗̀͟ǹ̵͇̮̜͇͍̯͍̹͓͉̙͎͓̀͜y̧̖̯̲͕̭͈̻̺͔͚̲̮͙͜.͢҉̸̻̳̠͚͔̞̹͕̙̝̬͕͕̟͙͙̥́ͅ ̧͎̲̭̱͎͙̳̠͢͠L̴͕͚̲̺͓̱̝̼͈̥̮̦͎ͅu̷̢̢̘͙͇̗̖̮̫͈͔͈̩̠͔̖c̵̮̼̮̥̥͎͢ͅk̵̴̛̛̤̦̘͙̟̲̟̦̠͓̜̱̭̠͜ͅi̴̧̛͇̝̼̗̜̥͓̟͟ĺ̯̙̙̹̱̮͈͕͍́y̵̪̻͇͙̞̞͙,̧̛̳̝̘̟̟̪̟̫͖̥̕͝ ̷̸̰̱̹̖̦̻͔͟t͏͔̞̺̭͉͎͝͝h͠͏̴̥̫̤̥e̵̪̼̪͙̙͇͓͇̙̣̲̣̳͔̟̱̤̩̞ý̲̼͉̬̜̩̟̝͎̘̼̙͎̼̥̦̖̟͘͠ ̵̵̜͍̹͕͉̩̘͓͎̻̻͢͞ͅa̧̖̟̠̩̙̖̖̫̬r̶̨҉̷̭̞̞͚̣̖͇̫͈͎̦̤͓̠͈͢ȩ̵̵̡̲͔̣̜͈̗̯̤̠̞̼͉̪̠̥̖̩̯̀ ̴̨̣̼̩̲̦͔c̪̬̲̘̫̟̰̫̪̬̪͙̝̣͈̬̗͘͟o͟҉̵͏͈̘͉̳̲̠̫̣n̼͕̲̩̞̩͈̰͜͝ͅṭ̸̴̯̳͓̼͘͟͞r̷̸̥̥͙͉̭̪̝͈̘͜à̶̩̻̙͔͓̹͡c̡̱̥̦̰͉̖̩̭̟̩̜͖̞̟̜͓̀͜͟t̨̡̳͓͖̖͍͖͔̱̰̰̞̠̖͚̣͕́u̷͝҉̺̮̼͈͉͇̩͈̯̦̺͈á͏̛̦͓̻͕̬͟͡ḽ̸̦͍͍͙̥̩̰̜̀͘͟ͅl̸͖̪̝̦̯͇̝͈y̺͚̖͈̯̱̪̲̩̤̭̯̦̼̲̳̟͖̤͘͡ ͉̯͓̥͇̤̙̼̹̗̲̼̯̙̝̀͟͝ͅḇ̧̖̯̮̝͓̦̭̝͍̦̪̣̣̫ǫ͚̠̩̘͙̭̟̞̖̯̦͞ͅų̸̢̭̤̳̱̩̯̝̹̗͖̀͞ṇ̡̧̛̲̻̟̩̟̭̠͙͈͇̤̮̳̗̀́d͕͇̯̘̻̘̫̜̟̬̰̝͚̙͚̝̱́͢ͅ ͓̹͉͡͞͝ͅt͚̼̫͍̥̻̣̠̼̪̖̫̭͈̪́͡ͅǫ̝̩̝͖͍͢ ̛̻͍̪̥͜͢Z̀͏͔̩̲̼͔͍ͅe͙͕͈̫̼̼̳͓͖͟͠r̵̡̫̗̻͇̫̹̱̗͚̲̫̫̭̞͇̕͝o̢̧͕̼̯̗̩̗͖̥̤̘̭͔͚̘͖̤̬͓͝ͅ ̷̧̣̬̖̪͎̥̟̘̗͈̹͔͟͝f̸͏̵̛͈̝͓̭̘ǫ̩̙͖͕̼͎͉̟͚͔̩̘͔̺̦́͠͞ͅr̶̸̨̮̳̣̩̳̠͍͔̬̥̥͍̹̠͕̳͡ ̛̛̝͎̦͎a̛͓͕̮̰̻̠͇̹͔̹͘͘͡͠ń̬̲̖̖͇͕̟̗̥̩̗͖͕͇̳̱̙͘͟͠͡o̸̹̠̗̩̠̕͠t̵̶̻̳̣͈͙̩̺͙͖̬̞h̸̸̢͇̺̪͓̮e̵̷̕͢͏͙̩̘̟̣̹̟͎̘̱͎̼͈r̴͕͉̦̲̣̙̮̠̰̥̩̣̱̣̺̜͟ͅ ̶̷̣̖̝̹̤͔̗̦̹̞̬͎̩̖̻͕͕̺̕͢͝ͅ2̸̟̪̰͈̤͚́ͅ ̢̱̥͓͔̦͉̩͎͍̹̫̹̹̥̬̕ͅý͏̗̰̝͉͎̲̱̙̩͍͘ͅḙ̷̛̤̙̖̳͈͚̣̭͖̞̀͞͠á̡͉̮̣̙͓̤r̸̜̦̱͙̳͇̠̫̜͇̻͇͖͙͎̕͡s͢҉͉͓̼̟̹͓̜̮̩̪͖̫̞̭͎̲͍̝ͅ,̨̰͍̟̲̯̩̻̳̖͟ ͝͏̧̭̙̥̘̤̞͇̦͚̻̺̗̭̬́4̸̸͉̟̩͝ ͉̬̪͘͢ͅm̶̵̯̤̥̱͔͙͕̟̺͜͟͢ơ̴͎̱̖̺̲̳̟̕͘n͏̴̠̻͉̪̦̜͈̰̖̣̤͔̤͙͞͠ţ̧̨̪̩̜̀̕ḫ̴̪̞̦͝ś̵̢̻̭̲̖̱͍̥͉̩̙̤̻̬̯̜͈̞,̸̷̺͕͕͍̘͙͖͠ ̸̸̨͔̮͍̖͎͘a̧͏̜̗̩̙̲͡ͅń̮̭̝̹͎̤͈͢d̷̞̮̙̥͈̜͉͚͖̖́ͅ ̸҉̘̬̥͉̝͓͍̘̟̖͍̙̭̦1̶̴̨̻̲̭̰̀ͅ2̼͔̬͔̣̞͈̦͙̬̘̜̖̥̀͜ ̸̷̢̲̖͚̫͖͓̯͙͚͇̦͚͎͈͟d̶̼̫͙̗̙̞̗̙͔̙̲̙̯͉̭̗̹̀ͅa̸̦̺̫̯̠͖̮̮͚̣̳͓͇̙̼͟ͅy̶̸̳̣̤͉̪̹̙͚̬̕͟͡s̨̙̹̞͚̪̩̗͉͉̠̬͓̜̟͉̣̕͝͞ͅ.͘͏̸͕̖̟͓̥̠̳̩̖̕͟ ̡͜͏͕̟̥̤̜͖̹̱̹̰̳̺͔͓̥Z̸̺͍̻̳͓̗͉̀͝ͅé͏͙̠̝̳̟͖r̴̡̢̭̦̮̟̪͎̥̣͔͖̣͎̠̪̩̺̻̩̕͢o̵̧̟̜͎̫͍͖̥͉̼̬̠̙̥̦̺̗͓ͅ ̢͏̴̨̟͎̥͔̲̲̘̰̗͓̱̺̺̜̪̪̲̦̤͘i͘͏̘͉̞̺̼̳̞͙̫̤̟̹̖s҉̧̯̜͖̺̩ ̨͙͈͓̹̫͜l̵̨̡͇̯̬̞̫̩̫͘͠u҉̧̛̥̤͚͕͎̦͖̘͡c̨̛̭̦̥̼̖̣͉͖̗̤͚̖̜͜͞ͅk̛͙͎̺̤̜͉̲͜y̴͏̨̤͙͓̰̺͓̖̻͙̰͇̕͟ͅ ̶̛̪̙͖͈̠͍̕͟ͅt̷̨͉̖͉̤̗͎̪̭o̸̥͖̣̭̣͙̫͢͡͠ ̷̧̣̜̺̗̮̗̖̹͓͉̞̞͈͚̝͔̯̼̤͘h̶̴͈̫͓̳̺͟a҉̡̙̠̰̬̮͡͝v̶̘̬̦̠͘͠è̤̜̻̺̼͡ ̧͏̺̤̱̬̝̝̖̹͕̥̬͇͢͟s̷̶͏͖͎̖̫̱̠̞̗̟͖̲̥͕͈̠͔ú̷̡̱̰̗̤̞͈͎͇̫̝͕̥͠c̷̢͏͇͕͉ḩ̡͓̣̺̞̟̜͙̳̙̟͚̤̺̫̺́́͢ ̷̷̴̴͕͙͖̤͓͖à̵͙͔͎͚͓͘͟͝ ҉̬̲̟̤̞̤͕̥̼̤̻̖͠ͅͅd̨̨̞̝͎̘̭̦͖̰͘̕͞ù̧̼͍̮̞̗̤̝͞ó̵̰̯̯̱̩̼̜̤̼̭̟̗́̕ ̸̸̡̢̝̹̤̥̦̱͉̝͍̪͎͍̻̱͝ͅà̢̤̣̺̹͍̙ś̴͕̣̭͕͜͝͠ ҉̸̠̹̤̱͖͔̙͍͡ṱ̶͇̟̣͓̞̫͝h̵̸͙̦̰̰̬̜̣̙̹͕͖͢͝͡ȩ͟͝҉̖̫̩̳̮͍̳̟̪̟͇̀m̶̨͔̦̗̘̣̕͞ͅ!̴̶͎͔͖̠̥̝̯̱̜͚͓͍̯͘͞

Takeshi Yoshida was born in Distict 9 of EuroCorp. He was taken notice of by a few corps due to his propensity for Chemistry but dropped off the radar nine months after turning sixteen, sometime after he became involved with the group "Ventilation Installation", which used to install ventilation systems as a front for organized crime. When the group was discovered, and subsequently disbanded by, the EPA, Takeshi escaped notice by a stroke of luck: He had stayed home to take care of Chika, whom was recovering from an illness on the day of the bust. When questioned about his affiliation later, Takeshi feigned ignorance about their terrorist activities, insisting that it was only a summer job to help pay for a vacation for his sister. This was not entirely a lie, but he was quite familiar with their modus operandi, and in fact, had assisted in constructing more than a couple of ventilation systems designed to release toxins four days after their installment. This is where he learned how to construct most of his chemical weapons, taking cues from the rest of the group. To keep up his alibi, Takeshi took another job with EuroCorp civil engineering, where he used his familiarity with ventilation to support himself for the next three years.

Takeshi hated the job, finding solace at a local noodle place he frequented (Sunset Noodles) as a reminder of his parents. He supposedly fell in love with the smells, and to entertain himself, he began to deploy pleasant odors into the ventilation systems of the buildings he worked on. This is when he blipped back onto the radar of the corps. Specifically, EuroCorp (his employer at the time), and Zero took interest into Takeshi’s career, noting the .12% increase in happiness among occupants of buildings he worked on. Another three years later, and Takeshi was a local favorite that nobody knew. They appreciated the smells, but he never quite announced himself. It seems he was satisfied with the work of odor deployment itself, and not interested in the praise of others.

In an ill-fated attempt to win his heart, Zero purchased Sunset Noodles, and attempted to hire him, using the restaurant as a proxy. This plan backfired, as Takeshi no longer found the noodles delicious (or, more importantly, fragrant) enough to eat. Fortunately for Zero, Takeshi had hated the job at EuroCorp enough to accept their contract, so long as he could make enough to support his sister. His propensity for Chemistry landed him in the Taste Engineering Department, but Takeshi quickly found himself much more inclined to creating smells, insisting that they were more important. He was relocated to the Odor Engineering Department, trained extensively, and began developing more intricate scents which would draw in customers at rates ranging from .22% to 5%.

During an EPA investigation into a missing child, the Ventilation Installation file was briefly reopened, allowing a mole in the organization to feed the information back to Zero. When reassembled Tasheki’s history, he was added to a list of possible operators. An agreement was formed with Tasheki: In exchange for silence, he will assist in Zero operations whenever he is needed. If possible, Tasheki is to be informed at the earliest possible time, and supplied with resources that cannot be traced back to Zero, so that he may concoct an effective gas. If possible, it is advised that he be placed in a team with his sister, as the two work together quite efficiently.

Tasheki values job stability, and so he does not tend to ask questions about the work he is sent to do. He has no quarrels with poisoning an entire apartment block, but he asks that the details of his work are left out of his realm of information. His most recent psych evaluations suggest that he is in a healthy state of mind, but due to the circumstances he works in, it is recommended that a careful eye is kept on him.

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝:

EuroCorp; District 9

𝚆𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗(𝚜):

»CHEAP, OUTDATED SINGLE-SHOT LASER PISTOL (c. 2180)

»FUMIGATION KIT
Sometimes, you've got to make a smell so potent that it'll drop the competition dead. Of course, a good odor engineer nose that sometimes it's about what you can't smell. Instead of lugging around a bunch of guns, Takeshi lugs around a bunch of chemicals to melt the faces off of anything that'd smell it, including:

Hard Candies: These lil' babies smell sweet, like grannie's hard candies that you love to eat up. Of course, inhaling them deeply, as one wants to do, burns the lungs. They're slow-acting so that you smell up more of the stuff, but because of that, they're pretty easily dealt with by modern medicine. Best used on the unsuspecting, preferably while sleeping. Takeshi usually carries four of these with him when on the job.
The Face Smelter Special: A foul-smelling gas which melts flesh, and over time, can even erode metal. They smell awful, but they're nice in a pinch. Takeshi usually only lugs around two of these guys.
Midnights: Odorless capsules designed to be thrown into rooms to knock out whoever catches a whiff of them. Useless against androids, or most people with lung augments. Takeshi usually has four of these guys with him (three for others, and one to help him get to sleep).

Of course, that leaves him mostly helpless, especially against androids, or people with augmentations for their lungs. He's not supposed to be in the thick of it, though. Most of his other concoctions are meant to be deployed into the heart of ventilation systems, and are usually too slow-acting to be of use in the field. He usually brews these a few days in advance of his mission, to better suit its needs. Of course, his pocket isn't infinite, so he doesn't always have the perfect mix of smells.

𝙰𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚛:

»One (1) Retrofit 2139 Outer-Operation Hazardous Disposal Uniform (as seen above!)
FEATURES
»OUTDATED Rebreather (c. 2139) in mint condition - to breathe forever!
»RETROFIT software mainframe - to allow interfacing with the most up-to-date programs!
»RETROFIT Hardware mainframe - to allow interfacing with the most up-to-date hardware!
»USED Air scrubber (c. 2165) - to breathe cleanly!
»USED Audio filtration system (c. 2192) - to automatically adjust incoming audio!
»NEW Sense-deprivation system - to tune out the rest of the world!

The Retrofit 2139 Outer-Operation Hazardous Disposal Uniform, like its name, is a bulky suit that is not so much concerned with protection from bullets, lasers, or electrothermal. Instead, it is designed to keep toxic air out, and good air in. The 2139 model in particular had many issues, mainly with air scrubbing, but was known to have a fantastic rebreather (if the seal wasn't breached, that is), and a software/hardware mainframe ahead of its time. Nowadays, most models have been scrapped, but Takeshi's suit is a bit of a pet project for him. He's replaced the air scrubbing systems with an assortment he's collected from work, updated the software/hardware mainframes to be compatible with modern interfaces, and he's even added a sense-deprivation system to tune out the world when he's concocting smells. It won't hold up well in a fight, but then again, Takeshi's not supposed to be in those.

𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜:

JOB SECURITY THROUGH PERFORMANCE ENHANCEMENT

» SMELL-O-VISION™ Mk. V (Patent Pending)

SMELL-O-VISION™ assists the user in detecting smells. It accomplishes this in two ways: (1) User's brain is trained to associate color with smell, and SMELL-O-VISION™ sends false signals to the ocular region of the brain to create a visual representation of the smell (similar to a cloud of smoke, or more accurately, a waft of scent in a cartoon) in the user's mind. (2) SMELL-O-VISION™ works as a secondary nose, detecting scents that the user may not be able to identify naturally (such as odorless scents) by analyzing the particulates entering the nose, and sending a corresponding signal to the olfactory regions of the brain, digitally creating new smells from an array of samples preloaded into the augment.

!!!NEW IN Mk. V (Patent Pending)!!!
»User can now create synthetic-neural pathways between compatible interfaces allowing them to act as tertiary noses!
»User can now download new smells from the ever growing SMELL-O-VISION™ database, and assign them manually to different particulates!
»User account policy updated.

𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:

Monthly income of $300.

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛:

» The future is now.
»In case it wasn't obvious, Takeshi works as a smell-engineer for Zero. He's one of the guys responsible for how damn good the food smells. He's constantly on the look out (smell out?) for new odors.
»Takeshi's favorite smell is
»His least favorite smell is
»Takeshi is prone to headaches that are the result of years of undisciplined odor engineering. Turns out, toxic fumes aren't so great for you, even if they smell good.

What Are You Listening To?

<Snipped quote by Scrub Mage>

If you can watch the following without grinning, then you aren't a weeb. :D

<snip>

@Mistiel

Oh shit.


_{I made this, everyone. Sorry to subject you to such an awful experience. Tell me what I could do better. And someone please beam their knowledge of music theory into my brain.}

[Reboot] Ｔｅｒｒａ ＿ ｒ：Ｅｖｏｌｕｔｉｏｎ

Takeshi Yoshida

^{[ "I make stuff you smell, and stuff you don't." ]}

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎:

Takeshi Yoshida

𝙰𝚐𝚎:

24

𝚂𝚎𝚡:

Male

𝙰𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:

Zero

𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:

Underneath his gear, Takeshi is a short, pallid figure, who clearly doesn't have the funds to support both his hobbies, and his diet. He is not exceptional in any ways. His eyes are brown, and he is shaved completely bald, meeting job requirements. His face is mostly unblemished, not being one to engage in fights. His features are vaguely roman, but much more clearly draw heritage from JPN22. What little facial hair he is capable of growing is routinely shaved, so toxic particles do not have an extra place to cling. He stands at roughly 5'6". He does not get much sleep, as can be discerned from the always-tired expression he wears. It is clear that he does not care much for his own body aside from work requirements. Standing in stark contrast to all of this, he has very deep laugh lines, and it is clear that he smiles frequently.

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢:

Takeshi is a storm of a man. He works primarily in a way that suits his eye, throwing whatever plans he had to the wind. This doesn't mean that he's careless, but rather, that he's overly adaptable. He is the working sort, and hates leisure time. When there is cause to celebrate, Takeshi is constantly looking for the next problem to solve. He has little regard for his own state of being, but cares immensely for those close to him. He is irritable, and sometimes a hassle to be around. He is envious of those who are content with life, as he can never find contentment in himself. He must always be better than he is, and this leads to somewhat stunted growth. Aside from this, Takeshi loves the past more than the present, and is uncertain about the future. He collects old things, but is too bashful to admit it.

PERSISTENT • TEMPERAMENTAL • AMBITIOUS • IMPULSIVE

𝙱𝚒𝚘:

Born in District 9 of EuroCorp, Takeshi was saved from the worst of the squalor. He understood that there were others who had less than him, and for a time, it pained him. Of course, those were the idle thoughts of a child who hadn’t yet had to struggle with economic structures established long before he was. It was here, in the days of his childhood, that he met his dearest friend: His sister. He was two, in fact, when he met her. He does not remember those days, but he looks back at them fondly. Her name was Chika, and he loved her with all his heart, as a good brother would. He became fascinated with Chemistry as soon as he learned what it was, and he helped to nurture that same interest within her.

However, despite this love for Chemistry, Takeshi joined an engineering trade school, where he became involved with Ventilation Installation. For three years, until he was twenty-one, he brought clean air to the people. It was, in a sense, a way for him to live out his childhood fantasies of helping others in need, but the fact that these people were charged money for this service lurked in the back of his head. He was no hero, and this burdened his thoughts for a time. If only he could topple generations worth of systemic economic oppression.

Of course, such a desire can only be fulfilled through excessive fantasy, and Takeshi was never one for such a thing. Instead, he looked for smaller ways to improve the lives of those around him. This calling found him when he was lucky enough to pass by a food stall sponsored by Zero. The smells were something that brought him joy in the neon lit streets, and he found himself at the food stalls at the end of every working day. He barely had enough money to pay for rent, so he would simply take in the smells before stopping to get a Zero Burger.

Of course, his “smelling spot” went out of business, Takeshi had a bit of a relapse into hopelessness. Instead of giving in, however, he devoted his spiraling energy toward perfecting smells. He started small, purchasing synthesized perfumes, and spritzing it into the heart of some of the ventilation systems he had to work on. It was an innocent attempt at improving lives, and – to a degree – it worked. His familiarity with how the systems worked allowed him to make sure that lovely smells got to where they were most needed.

Zero noticed his talent for smells, offered him a fully-paid education in Odor Engineering, and hired him shortly after he completed the program. Now, he works as one of the few Odor Engineers, and is glad to spread cheer to those who a̕ŕe̴ ͢i̸ń ͞ne̡e̢d̶ ̶o̴f ͞a̧ l͟ov͡ely ́sme͝ll̵.̵ Pa҉rt̡n̛ere̶d̴ w̸ith̷ ͘Z͡er̀o, tḩe͘re͜'̵s̡ ņoth͞i҉n͘g he ca̧n̸'͜t̨ do!̀ ̷H̀e͢ i̶s̴ ͢r̴e͡s̢pon̶s̛i͞ble͞ f͘ǫr t͞h̛͟e ̛̀ļo̶̢v҉e̛͏̀l͠y ҉̵s͡͡ḿ̡é͞l̷͞l̡s̶͘ t͞h͢a̸̢t̨͟͏ ҉a͘d̸̡̕or̢n̢͢ ̛a͟l̷͡l̕̕ ̢͟o̸̶f̡͡ ̶̨Z̷er͜͟͠ơ'͠s͠ ̛͢Eu̢̕͝r͏o͏̧Co̡͢rp ͏͠l͘͢o͠ca҉ti҉̀oń̶ş̀, ̡ą̕l̵͞͝o͘͡͠ń̛g҉śid̷e͏̴͡ ̵o͟t̷̨͢h͞e͞͞ŕ̨͘ ̷̡O҉d҉̕or͞͠ ̡̨҉En̵̛g̸i̸͟n͠e͞e͠r̛͟s̛͘͞.̢ A̸̷͝ļ̶o̧͟͏́n̢̨͢͞g͠͠s̷̨͜͠i҉҉̨́͟d̀e̴̡͘͠ ͠͡҉̕͟h̶̶̛i̡s̛͡͡ ̶͏͢͜͡ś͞͏͜i̸̶͠͡ś̷͜t̷̡҉e̕͡ŗ͘͝ ̶̕͞͠C͏̵̧͢h̸̕i҉k͏̶͘͘͢a̡͟ ͏́̕͘͞(̡ą̛͝͏ ̕͏̀͝҉Ţ̵́͠ą̸͜͡s̸͝t̢̛͠͝e͘͏̡̡̕ ̴̷͜͠E̷͞n̵͜g̵͡i͢͞n̨͢e̸̴̢͢è̕͟ŕ̡ ̢̡͟͡t̶́͢͠h̛̕͏͟á̢t̨̧̢́͟ ̷̴͠͠͝w̸̢̧a̡̡͟s͘͏ ҉̶̨͘͟a̸̡̕͞l̕͢͏̢s̸̵͢ó҉̀ ̨̢p̴̢̀͢i͏̛͠ć̵̸̕͜k̸͠e͜͜͠d̸͘͏̸́ ̵́ú̸͟͡͏p͏̨̀͠ ͘͟͢͞f̴o̵̡ŕ̛͟ ̷͞͡h̀͘e̷̕r̷̢ ̵̢̀͘t́̀͟a̡͟l̶͘͝ę́ņ̶̶̛t̴̛̕͜ ҉̴b҉̵͢͢҉y̶ ́͟͝Z̵̕͟e͏̷͘͞r҉́o͞͝͝͝)̵̡̛̀͢,̷̨̛͡͠ ̡҉Z̴̡͢͢҉e̢̛͜͢͝r̶̕ò̴̧̀'̨͝͡҉s͘͞ ̵̨̧̧a͢҉̀p̷̢͘͞p̀́r̶̷͘̕͜ǫ̴̀͜͝v̨͘͠a̶͜͟͝l͟͠ ̢҉͏r̡͢a̧̨̡̛t̨į̛̀͠ń̸̡͟g̴̡̀͢͠s͜͠͠ ̸̢̛͘͞ḩ̀͝a̵̵̶͞v͘͡͡͠҉e͠ ̡͘͏̢i҉̷̨̀͜ǹ̵͟͝c̷̵͢҉r̡̀͢͢e̸̕a̧͟s̨̨̕͟è͢ḑ̀̕͡ ̧́͘͠͝b͠͠y̵̵̛ ҉̬̲̟̤̞̤͕̥̼̤̻̖͠ͅͅ.̸̴̢̨̟̪̖͕͍̦͈͔̭̱̰̣̥͟1̧̛̻̦͍͘2̡̛̜͓͚̹̼͈̖̬̱͕̝̭͇̭͉̮̀͡͞%҉̶͔͙͉͎̰͙̯̰̝̘̀,̷͝҉̭͔̦̝͙͔͍̘̣̩̥͔͍̫̪̪̣͇ ̷̨̟̺̤̮̘̱̻̰̦̪̱̺̦̯͈̀͜͢í̵̦̳̭̻͞ǹ̷̶̢̼̝͓̩̦̕d͏̡̭̻͓̣i͟͏̶̩̭͇͔̱̭̺͈̟̠̤̠̥͚ç͔̟̠̰̲͘͠a̲̖̦̙̜͉̝͇̗̹͡͞ͅṱ̶̛̦̰̀ͅi͢҉̲̬̥͕ń̛̜͖̝̺͚̮̩̝̠͇̗̫͍̺͍͉͢͜g̴͟͜͜͏̗̯̭̥̣̳͍̺̘̙̤̻̜̟̝̳̭ ̷̸̧̺̦̦͕̰͎̼͖̫͡ͅt̜̪̰̱̪̖̩̥͚̲͎͓͟͠h̴̳̱͔̻̝̘̰̘͓̘̟̲̯͓̗̠͜͠e̛̞̤͕͔̲͖͇̼͉̟̪͟i҉̸͙͍̙̘̯̖̠͙͇̣̥̫͇͔̟̠͍́͞ͅr̛͙̝̮̼̟̥̠̲̺͘ ̢͡͞҉̸̻͓͓̭͇͍̬̺̹̗į͈̟̤̫͔̤̱͙̦̝m̀҉͙̥̬̤̮p̛͝҉̢̗̼̞̤̠͔̥̥͉̬͚͈͙̩̠̀ͅo̸̸̷̪̲̺̳̖͓̩̙̱͘ͅr̷̵̰͎̮̼͡ţ̴̨̫̩͓̗͓̝͎̥͚̜͙̝̱͜͢ͅà͇̰̯̪̞͚̰̠̟̲̙̦̩̝̼͔͢ͅn̻͔̦̼̦̣̖̖̜̺͓̞͍̤̮̪͖̳̕͜͝c̢̝͉͇̱̦̼͙̘̝̭̰̳̘͕͚̮̟̘e̸͈͚̰̤͚͎̭̠͚̝̤̤͕̰̟̦͎̕ͅ ̴̧͍͓̠̣̟t̶̯̜̦̮̼̘͙̤͙͜ơ̢̨̦͓̰̝͠ͅ ̸͇̣̙̯͈̰̮̙͚̣̫̹̀͝t̨̠̲͍̱̲̰̩̜̮͍̼͈̪͓̀́ͅh̶͍̥͉̟̻͖̜͙͖̲̝̫̘́͞e̡̘̥̤̻̺̫̦͖͖̩̮̘̘̮̮̭̲͙͡͡ ̷̨̫̙͖͇̪̱̣̤̗͈̪̞̦͉̤̪͎́͞ͅͅç̸̩̮̘̠̪̟̞̀o̻̪̘̪̭͕͔͉̙̲̪̮͈͈̹͝ͅm̴̕͏̛͙͕͈̥̼̰̫̯̤̩̩͈͔̣͎̣̱̦͜p̶̟̥̺̦̪̳͉̲̺̗̀̀͘à̶̘͇̯̬̭͖͍̮̻͈̼̗̀͟ǹ̵͇̮̜͇͍̯͍̹͓͉̙͎͓̀͜y̧̖̯̲͕̭͈̻̺͔͚̲̮͙͜.͢҉̸̻̳̠͚͔̞̹͕̙̝̬͕͕̟͙͙̥́ͅ ̧͎̲̭̱͎͙̳̠͢͠L̴͕͚̲̺͓̱̝̼͈̥̮̦͎ͅu̷̢̢̘͙͇̗̖̮̫͈͔͈̩̠͔̖c̵̮̼̮̥̥͎͢ͅk̵̴̛̛̤̦̘͙̟̲̟̦̠͓̜̱̭̠͜ͅi̴̧̛͇̝̼̗̜̥͓̟͟ĺ̯̙̙̹̱̮͈͕͍́y̵̪̻͇͙̞̞͙,̧̛̳̝̘̟̟̪̟̫͖̥̕͝ ̷̸̰̱̹̖̦̻͔͟t͏͔̞̺̭͉͎͝͝h͠͏̴̥̫̤̥e̵̪̼̪͙̙͇͓͇̙̣̲̣̳͔̟̱̤̩̞ý̲̼͉̬̜̩̟̝͎̘̼̙͎̼̥̦̖̟͘͠ ̵̵̜͍̹͕͉̩̘͓͎̻̻͢͞ͅa̧̖̟̠̩̙̖̖̫̬r̶̨҉̷̭̞̞͚̣̖͇̫͈͎̦̤͓̠͈͢ȩ̵̵̡̲͔̣̜͈̗̯̤̠̞̼͉̪̠̥̖̩̯̀ ̴̨̣̼̩̲̦͔c̪̬̲̘̫̟̰̫̪̬̪͙̝̣͈̬̗͘͟o͟҉̵͏͈̘͉̳̲̠̫̣n̼͕̲̩̞̩͈̰͜͝ͅṭ̸̴̯̳͓̼͘͟͞r̷̸̥̥͙͉̭̪̝͈̘͜à̶̩̻̙͔͓̹͡c̡̱̥̦̰͉̖̩̭̟̩̜͖̞̟̜͓̀͜͟t̨̡̳͓͖̖͍͖͔̱̰̰̞̠̖͚̣͕́u̷͝҉̺̮̼͈͉͇̩͈̯̦̺͈á͏̛̦͓̻͕̬͟͡ḽ̸̦͍͍͙̥̩̰̜̀͘͟ͅl̸͖̪̝̦̯͇̝͈y̺͚̖͈̯̱̪̲̩̤̭̯̦̼̲̳̟͖̤͘͡ ͉̯͓̥͇̤̙̼̹̗̲̼̯̙̝̀͟͝ͅḇ̧̖̯̮̝͓̦̭̝͍̦̪̣̣̫ǫ͚̠̩̘͙̭̟̞̖̯̦͞ͅų̸̢̭̤̳̱̩̯̝̹̗͖̀͞ṇ̡̧̛̲̻̟̩̟̭̠͙͈͇̤̮̳̗̀́d͕͇̯̘̻̘̫̜̟̬̰̝͚̙͚̝̱́͢ͅ ͓̹͉͡͞͝ͅt͚̼̫͍̥̻̣̠̼̪̖̫̭͈̪́͡ͅǫ̝̩̝͖͍͢ ̛̻͍̪̥͜͢Z̀͏͔̩̲̼͔͍ͅe͙͕͈̫̼̼̳͓͖͟͠r̵̡̫̗̻͇̫̹̱̗͚̲̫̫̭̞͇̕͝o̢̧͕̼̯̗̩̗͖̥̤̘̭͔͚̘͖̤̬͓͝ͅ ̷̧̣̬̖̪͎̥̟̘̗͈̹͔͟͝f̸͏̵̛͈̝͓̭̘ǫ̩̙͖͕̼͎͉̟͚͔̩̘͔̺̦́͠͞ͅr̶̸̨̮̳̣̩̳̠͍͔̬̥̥͍̹̠͕̳͡ ̛̛̝͎̦͎a̛͓͕̮̰̻̠͇̹͔̹͘͘͡͠ń̬̲̖̖͇͕̟̗̥̩̗͖͕͇̳̱̙͘͟͠͡o̸̹̠̗̩̠̕͠t̵̶̻̳̣͈͙̩̺͙͖̬̞h̸̸̢͇̺̪͓̮e̵̷̕͢͏͙̩̘̟̣̹̟͎̘̱͎̼͈r̴͕͉̦̲̣̙̮̠̰̥̩̣̱̣̺̜͟ͅ ̶̷̣̖̝̹̤͔̗̦̹̞̬͎̩̖̻͕͕̺̕͢͝ͅ2̸̟̪̰͈̤͚́ͅ ̢̱̥͓͔̦͉̩͎͍̹̫̹̹̥̬̕ͅý͏̗̰̝͉͎̲̱̙̩͍͘ͅḙ̷̛̤̙̖̳͈͚̣̭͖̞̀͞͠á̡͉̮̣̙͓̤r̸̜̦̱͙̳͇̠̫̜͇̻͇͖͙͎̕͡s͢҉͉͓̼̟̹͓̜̮̩̪͖̫̞̭͎̲͍̝ͅ,̨̰͍̟̲̯̩̻̳̖͟ ͝͏̧̭̙̥̘̤̞͇̦͚̻̺̗̭̬́4̸̸͉̟̩͝ ͉̬̪͘͢ͅm̶̵̯̤̥̱͔͙͕̟̺͜͟͢ơ̴͎̱̖̺̲̳̟̕͘n͏̴̠̻͉̪̦̜͈̰̖̣̤͔̤͙͞͠ţ̧̨̪̩̜̀̕ḫ̴̪̞̦͝ś̵̢̻̭̲̖̱͍̥͉̩̙̤̻̬̯̜͈̞,̸̷̺͕͕͍̘͙͖͠ ̸̸̨͔̮͍̖͎͘a̧͏̜̗̩̙̲͡ͅń̮̭̝̹͎̤͈͢d̷̞̮̙̥͈̜͉͚͖̖́ͅ ̸҉̘̬̥͉̝͓͍̘̟̖͍̙̭̦1̶̴̨̻̲̭̰̀ͅ2̼͔̬͔̣̞͈̦͙̬̘̜̖̥̀͜ ̸̷̢̲̖͚̫͖͓̯͙͚͇̦͚͎͈͟d̶̼̫͙̗̙̞̗̙͔̙̲̙̯͉̭̗̹̀ͅa̸̦̺̫̯̠͖̮̮͚̣̳͓͇̙̼͟ͅy̶̸̳̣̤͉̪̹̙͚̬̕͟͡s̨̙̹̞͚̪̩̗͉͉̠̬͓̜̟͉̣̕͝͞ͅ.͘͏̸͕̖̟͓̥̠̳̩̖̕͟ ̡͜͏͕̟̥̤̜͖̹̱̹̰̳̺͔͓̥Z̸̺͍̻̳͓̗͉̀͝ͅé͏͙̠̝̳̟͖r̴̡̢̭̦̮̟̪͎̥̣͔͖̣͎̠̪̩̺̻̩̕͢o̵̧̟̜͎̫͍͖̥͉̼̬̠̙̥̦̺̗͓ͅ ̢͏̴̨̟͎̥͔̲̲̘̰̗͓̱̺̺̜̪̪̲̦̤͘i͘͏̘͉̞̺̼̳̞͙̫̤̟̹̖s҉̧̯̜͖̺̩ ̨͙͈͓̹̫͜l̵̨̡͇̯̬̞̫̩̫͘͠u҉̧̛̥̤͚͕͎̦͖̘͡c̨̛̭̦̥̼̖̣͉͖̗̤͚̖̜͜͞ͅk̛͙͎̺̤̜͉̲͜y̴͏̨̤͙͓̰̺͓̖̻͙̰͇̕͟ͅ ̶̛̪̙͖͈̠͍̕͟ͅt̷̨͉̖͉̤̗͎̪̭o̸̥͖̣̭̣͙̫͢͡͠ ̷̧̣̜̺̗̮̗̖̹͓͉̞̞͈͚̝͔̯̼̤͘h̶̴͈̫͓̳̺͟a҉̡̙̠̰̬̮͡͝v̶̘̬̦̠͘͠è̤̜̻̺̼͡ ̧͏̺̤̱̬̝̝̖̹͕̥̬͇͢͟s̷̶͏͖͎̖̫̱̠̞̗̟͖̲̥͕͈̠͔ú̷̡̱̰̗̤̞͈͎͇̫̝͕̥͠c̷̢͏͇͕͉ḩ̡͓̣̺̞̟̜͙̳̙̟͚̤̺̫̺́́͢ ̷̷̴̴͕͙͖̤͓͖à̵͙͔͎͚͓͘͟͝ ҉̬̲̟̤̞̤͕̥̼̤̻̖͠ͅͅd̨̨̞̝͎̘̭̦͖̰͘̕͞ù̧̼͍̮̞̗̤̝͞ó̵̰̯̯̱̩̼̜̤̼̭̟̗́̕ ̸̸̡̢̝̹̤̥̦̱͉̝͍̪͎͍̻̱͝ͅà̢̤̣̺̹͍̙ś̴͕̣̭͕͜͝͠ ҉̸̠̹̤̱͖͔̙͍͡ṱ̶͇̟̣͓̞̫͝h̵̸͙̦̰̰̬̜̣̙̹͕͖͢͝͡ȩ͟͝҉̖̫̩̳̮͍̳̟̪̟͇̀m̶̨͔̦̗̘̣̕͞ͅ!̴̶͎͔͖̠̥̝̯̱̜͚͓͍̯͘͞

Takeshi Yoshida was born in Distict 9 of EuroCorp. He was taken notice of by a few corps due to his propensity for Chemistry but dropped off the radar nine months after turning sixteen, sometime after he became involved with the group "Ventilation Installation", which used to install ventilation systems as a front for organized crime. When the group was discovered, and subsequently disbanded by, the EPA, Takeshi escaped notice by a stroke of luck: He had stayed home to take care of Chika, whom was recovering from an illness on the day of the bust. When questioned about his affiliation later, Takeshi feigned ignorance about their terrorist activities, insisting that it was only a summer job to help pay for a vacation for his sister. This was not entirely a lie, but he was quite familiar with their modus operandi, and in fact, had assisted in constructing more than a couple of ventilation systems designed to release toxins four days after their installment. This is where he learned how to construct most of his chemical weapons, taking cues from the rest of the group. To keep up his alibi, Takeshi took another job with EuroCorp civil engineering, where he used his familiarity with ventilation to support himself for the next three years.

Takeshi hated the job, finding solace at a local noodle place he frequented (Sunset Noodles) as a reminder of his parents. He supposedly fell in love with the smells, and to entertain himself, he began to deploy pleasant odors into the ventilation systems of the buildings he worked on. This is when he blipped back onto the radar of the corps. Specifically, EuroCorp (his employer at the time), and Zero took interest into Takeshi’s career, noting the .12% increase in happiness among occupants of buildings he worked on. Another three years later, and Takeshi was a local favorite that nobody knew. They appreciated the smells, but he never quite announced himself. It seems he was satisfied with the work of odor deployment itself, and not interested in the praise of others.

In an ill-fated attempt to win his heart, Zero purchased Sunset Noodles, and attempted to hire him, using the restaurant as a proxy. This plan backfired, as Takeshi no longer found the noodles delicious (or, more importantly, fragrant) enough to eat. Fortunately for Zero, Takeshi had hated the job at EuroCorp enough to accept their contract, so long as he could make enough to support his sister. His propensity for Chemistry landed him in the Taste Engineering Department, but Takeshi quickly found himself much more inclined to creating smells, insisting that they were more important. He was relocated to the Odor Engineering Department, trained extensively, and began developing more intricate scents which would draw in customers at rates ranging from .22% to 5%.

During an EPA investigation into a missing child, the Ventilation Installation file was briefly reopened, allowing a mole in the organization to feed the information back to Zero. When reassembled Tasheki’s history, he was added to a list of possible operators. An agreement was formed with Tasheki: In exchange for silence, he will assist in Zero operations whenever he is needed. If possible, Tasheki is to be informed at the earliest possible time, and supplied with resources that cannot be traced back to Zero, so that he may concoct an effective gas. If possible, it is advised that he be placed in a team with his sister, as the two work together quite efficiently.

Tasheki values job stability, and so he does not tend to ask questions about the work he is sent to do. He has no quarrels with poisoning an entire apartment block, but he asks that the details of his work are left out of his realm of information. His most recent psych evaluations suggest that he is in a healthy state of mind, but due to the circumstances he works in, it is recommended that a careful eye is kept on him.

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝:

EuroCorp; District 9

𝚆𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗(𝚜):

»CHEAP, OUTDATED SINGLE-SHOT LASER PISTOL (c. 2180)

»FUMIGATION KIT
Sometimes, you've got to make a smell so potent that it'll drop the competition dead. Of course, a good odor engineer nose that sometimes it's about what you can't smell. Instead of lugging around a bunch of guns, Takeshi lugs around a bunch of chemicals to melt the faces off of anything that'd smell it, including:

Hard Candies: These lil' babies smell sweet, like grannie's hard candies that you love to eat up. Of course, inhaling them deeply, as one wants to do, burns the lungs. They're slow-acting so that you smell up more of the stuff, but because of that, they're pretty easily dealt with by modern medicine. Best used on the unsuspecting, preferably while sleeping. Takeshi usually carries four of these with him when on the job.
The Face Smelter Special: A foul-smelling gas which melts flesh, and over time, can even erode metal. They smell awful, but they're nice in a pinch. Takeshi usually only lugs around two of these guys.
Midnights: Odorless capsules designed to be thrown into rooms to knock out whoever catches a whiff of them. Useless against androids, or most people with lung augments. Takeshi usually has four of these guys with him (three for others, and one to help him get to sleep).

Of course, that leaves him mostly helpless, especially against androids, or people with augmentations for their lungs. He's not supposed to be in the thick of it, though. Most of his other concoctions are meant to be deployed into the heart of ventilation systems, and are usually too slow-acting to be of use in the field. He usually brews these a few days in advance of his mission, to better suit its needs. Of course, his pocket isn't infinite, so he doesn't always have the perfect mix of smells.

𝙰𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚛:

»One (1) Retrofit 2139 Outer-Operation Hazardous Disposal Uniform (as seen above!)
FEATURES
»OUTDATED Rebreather (c. 2139) in mint condition - to breathe forever!
»RETROFIT software mainframe - to allow interfacing with the most up-to-date programs!
»RETROFIT Hardware mainframe - to allow interfacing with the most up-to-date hardware!
»USED Air scrubber (c. 2165) - to breathe cleanly!
»USED Audio filtration system (c. 2192) - to automatically adjust incoming audio!
»NEW Sense-deprivation system - to tune out the rest of the world!

The Retrofit 2139 Outer-Operation Hazardous Disposal Uniform, like its name, is a bulky suit that is not so much concerned with protection from bullets, lasers, or electrothermal. Instead, it is designed to keep toxic air out, and good air in. The 2139 model in particular had many issues, mainly with air scrubbing, but was known to have a fantastic rebreather (if the seal wasn't breached, that is), and a software/hardware mainframe ahead of its time. Nowadays, most models have been scrapped, but Takeshi's suit is a bit of a pet project for him. He's replaced the air scrubbing systems with an assortment he's collected from work, updated the software/hardware mainframes to be compatible with modern interfaces, and he's even added a sense-deprivation system to tune out the world when he's concocting smells. It won't hold up well in a fight, but then again, Takeshi's not supposed to be in those.

𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜:

JOB SECURITY THROUGH PERFORMANCE ENHANCEMENT

» SMELL-O-VISION™ Mk. V (Patent Pending)

SMELL-O-VISION™ assists the user in detecting smells. It accomplishes this in two ways: (1) User's brain is trained to associate color with smell, and SMELL-O-VISION™ sends false signals to the ocular region of the brain to create a visual representation of the smell (similar to a cloud of smoke, or more accurately, a waft of scent in a cartoon) in the user's mind. (2) SMELL-O-VISION™ works as a secondary nose, detecting scents that the user may not be able to identify naturally (such as odorless scents) by analyzing the particulates entering the nose, and sending a corresponding signal to the olfactory regions of the brain, digitally creating new smells from an array of samples preloaded into the augment.

!!!NEW IN Mk. V (Patent Pending)!!!
»User can now create synthetic-neural pathways between compatible interfaces allowing them to act as tertiary noses!
»User can now download new smells from the ever growing SMELL-O-VISION™ database, and assign them manually to different particulates!
»User account policy updated.

𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:

Monthly income of $300.

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛:

» The future is now.
»In case it wasn't obvious, Takeshi works as a smell-engineer for Zero. He's one of the guys responsible for how damn good the food smells. He's constantly on the look out (smell out?) for new odors.
»Takeshi's favorite smell is
»His least favorite smell is
»Takeshi is prone to headaches that are the result of years of undisciplined odor engineering. Turns out, toxic fumes aren't so great for you, even if they smell good.