Stryder — Roleplayer Guild

Amalvi said
"Okay then, Marcus, such a shame that you are still handcuffed, but I don't think you'll have much trouble"True to be told, she preferred him that way. If he tried anything funny at least he was handicapped enough for him to have a chance to be killed, because what she could not kill she feared. But nevertheless, defeat means friendship, doesn't it? In a prison, because that's what they were supposed to be in, all inmates are potential allies until you get out. Funny enough, most of the noise and fighting seemed to have ceased and things have gotten strangely quiet, not completely quiet, but the noises of fighting seemed now distant and way less frequent than before. That could be either good or bad news for all she knew"Anyway, juggernaut Marcus, I didn't see anything like an exit on my way here and you surely didn't either or else you would have left instead of having found me, unless you had any direction in mind I suggest we keep blasting our way through until we find an exit."

Marcus just shrugged somewhat when she commented about him being cuffed, it did annoy him but there wasn't much he could do about it really. "I'm still capable you know..." He retorted, clutching the weapon with both hands as if ready to fire the old weapon. His ears somewhat twitched to the sound of pins being pulled, a sound so familiar. He was well acquainted with grenades but more so adept in use of detonator. He quickly glanced at Carlotta, he knew he could walk away from the blast but could she? "Thank me later!" He said urgently, pulling her into his hold and shielding her from the initial blast. The impact of the explosion knocked the wind out of him truth be told, along with that it pushed the two of them right out of the market and into the streets, a trail of smoke and fire following as they tumbled to the ground. Marcus' armor making contact with the metal pavement caused it to dent lightly. "That was close..." He said, releasing the female from his grip, upon doing so he realized his hands were freed, it seemed the blast overloaded his cuffs. "Well, that.....convenient." He said, rubbing his wrists.

Kori trudged out of the partially exploded market, his armor black with soot and smoke, he was rocked a little bit but not gravely wounded. He still had the key, thankfully he had it so close to him that it didn't melt and become useless. "Okay, let's get out of here.." He said, coughing a bit, black smoke leaving his lungs, starting to walk off, moving past the staring faces of humans and alien people. Marcus stood up and pulled the woman up with him, tugging her along as he walked a bit o a distance behind his brother. He held onto the firearm he was given with his free hand. "They have our weapons Kori, we can't just barge in..." He piped up, Kori turned his head 180 and looked at his brother out of the corner of his eye. "I know....but how else are we getting off of this station?" He asked him. "Hmm..." Marcus should have expected that level of stubbornness from him, there was probably no other way. The three continued to travel street level, using the alleyways as cover while law enforcement searched for them.

Name: Mason Hale
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Planet of Residence:
Alignment: Evil
Faction: Monocle Syndicate
Position: Enforcer/Bounty Hunter
Appearance:

Clicky [+]

Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Black
Physique: Athletic

Personality:

Click [+]

Abilities:

Click [+]

Skills: Mason's intense physical training by his masters has allowed him to hone in on many skills. He is an experienced practitioner of parkour and many sword and knife fighting techniques, making him a respective in the category. He is a skilled fighter and has attained the title of expert in a few of the arts of fighting; Atemi excels in taking advantage of the anatomical weak points of the human body, Kempo or the way of the fist, Hapkido, a style focused solely on high kicks. Kendojitsu, a style created by Mason himself by combining the sword arts Kendo and Kenjitsu.
Weapons:

His Pistols(2x) [+]

Gear/Equipment:

Just this [+]

History:

That [+]

Before he became a fully fledged bounty hunter, Mason was child from a family stricken with debt, as time progressed, they were thrown from their homes and forced on the streets where it all just got worse. His mother and father were getting to be regular beggars on the streets. Desperation was setting in for Mason, even at his young age, he saw what his parents were putting themselves through and he vividly understood. At the young age of 7, Mason was convicted of his first crime, theft. From there things escalated for the boy when he was taken to his first juvenile detainment installation, off world. At such a young age, this was all but inviting for the young man, the 'welcoming' he got first stepping in was something he'd never forget even now. Each hellish day and agonizing night made him tougher as he fought to survive in the place that he would call home for the next half a year. Notice was taken on Mason for being the new kid 'in town' immediately, being a human in this type of prison spelled disaster for him. After weeks upon weeks of merciless beatings, boundless threats, and bullying for his food Mason had finally had enough. A few days into his last month, Mason left to the chow hall, avoiding everyone around him. Mason sat down at the wall where no one but himself ate, he disliked being near the other kids, all them much older and intimidating, but they were all that way when it came to him. Mason's consumption of food was disturbed by the large shadow that was cast over him "Hey what do you have for me to eat human?" Said the voice of a boy that had been making Mason's life hell from day one. Mason looked up, his eyes were displaying both fear and blinding rage toward the massive alien juvenile. Unknown to the towering teen, Mason had filed down a safety knife from its harmless dull end to a deadly point for such an event. He had an idea of how to use a knife from what he had seen his parents do when they needed money. "E-eat shit, Llinar…" He stuttered, giving the smart-mouthed human retort to the hostile boy. Mason was picked up by the tower of a child and slammed against the wall forcefully, causing him to gasp out as the wind was knocked out of him. Mason arms weren't restrained fortunately for him, as he heaved and struggled for air, Llinarr spoke. You'll wish you hadn't said that.. The massive alien spoke grimly, cocking back his large arm, preparing to strike Mason's face. The human seven year old shut his eyes and jabbed the weapon toward the alien's throat, lodging the knife in his carotid artery. His grasp weakened as he was only able to gasp for the air that escaped from the hole in his throat.

Mason's look of anger never vanished from his face as he drove the blade in deeper, listening the choked sounds that Llinar made each time. A crazed grin forced its way onto Mason's face as the boy's black blood began to spurt from his wound. Mason knew what that excess in blood loss meant, his heart was beating like it was in shock. "Scared to die? You don't have to be anymore…" He said in a dark tone to the dying boy, finally getting free from his grasp. That's when he noticed, everyone in the hall was watching him, they had all seen what he did. He shot glared toward each and every one of them, his black, soulless eyes piercing daggers into them all. Before he could continue on with Llinarr and watch him die, he was hit in the neck by a stun round, instantly putting him on the ground. Once he finally came to, he was surprised to see he wasn't awaiting death row, instead he was put in a solitary confinement cell. He spent the rest of his sentence's months there, getting released when his added three years was up. After coming back into the public he began looking for work. There weren't exactly many places willing to hire a ten year old though, his life on the streets reminded him of a place he could go; the underground.

After a while of looking he finally found who he'd be doing business with for the next eleven years. A man who went by his underground name of Monocle, a man who had proved to be so dangerous that the empire didn't mess with him thanks to the hooks he had in their corrupt system of government. A man that told Mason he could give him a job, one that provided money as well as power, if he pledged himself to an unbreakable contract. After swearing allegiance to the crime lord, Mason was put into his training which consisted of grueling tasks that forced Mason to prove his worth. He was put through every possible scenario to harden him into one of Monocle's enforcing agents. Betrayal, Sacrifice, Pain, Suffering, Hopelessness, Anger, Sadness, and finally, Fear. Mason was taught how to master these emotions and feelings by his training masters, making his emotional barriers more than fortified. Eventually he was pitted against his competing 'co-workers' time and time again, fighting and eventually killing them as time progressed. Admittedly, these were events that nearly killed Mason in every way, physically and mentally. He had been trained to the point of breaking point for the next eleven years of his life. His masters hadn't been light with him, seeing his courage at such an age made him susceptible to being treated like any other. His last task was his hardest, putting him to the ultimate emotional test. Two debtors had been hiding out from Monocle and his collectors, to see how he'd do killing innocent people deemed guilty in Monocle's eyes or rather…eye. After days of trailing the fleeing debtors he had finally tracked them both down. A look of complete shock washed over his face, these were his parents, they knew it and he knew it too. But there was nothing left he could do for them, in his mind they were already gone. "Mason, son! Is it really you?!" His father began speaking to him, even hugging him as he began to cry, as strong willed as Mason had become, he too eventually caved in and joined his family as their emotions flared. "Listen, we need you to help us! We're in a jam and-.." He cut his father off, as he pressed the barrel of his handgun to the man's chest. "I'm sorry…" He said in a choked up voice, tears still rolling down his cheeks as he squeezed the trigger. His mother screamed for her husband, unable to do anything but sit idly by as he died and her own son being the man behind the weapon. "You're not my son! Where is my son?!" She shouted and sobbed as she grabbed him, attempting to shake sense into him. It was a useless attempt, by now his hands had been shaking as if they were experiencing turbulence on a plane. Mason stared deeply into the eyes of his screaming and crying mother before forcefully putting the barrel to her head. "Dead…" He answered in reply to her question, promptly pulling the trigger on his own mother's head. Now he had a complete block of emotion, all ties to it were now gone, the most major ones at least. This had become one of his most notable feat which has made him a well renowned bounty hunter, one with the complete lack of emotion.

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