Name:
Daniel R. O'Prie
Age:
24
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Bio:
It's surprising that the orphaned son to a bartender would ever be different, in fact that isn't a rather far fetched word for this young man.
Many would say that living in Columbia was wonderful, that the floor you walked was one made to be an almost perfect replica of the heavens just above. Or, that's what the prophet would say through the many perfectly placed voxophone recording everyday. As it was, it did look beautiful....though, everything has a dark side. It just so happens that this city was the dark that ensued the minds of the people. It may appear beautiful but to Daniel, and a few others', this city was a floating pool of fools. All blinded by honeyed words, and a false sense of peace. They all lived in self made cages.
The young man knew, at midnight, in the dark, the Vox Populi and the Police would be battling once again. Hurriedly, trying to keep any from wandering the cobblestone roads and seeing the bloodbath. In Columbia, the lies it was built on were exactly how it kept afloat in the sky. To the people, they would wander aimlessly believing that the Vox were just a dark and twisted fantasy. Though, soon enough it would be a harsh reality. One that if it spiraled out of control, it could wreck all that this floating city had. When that would happen, a smile would creep onto the man's face, one filled with pride and something else, something darker.
Trudging down the bloodied cobblestone roads had become a common pastime for Daniel. His light caramel eyes fluttering over the fallen, the wounded, and the scrambling. He would be hidden, of course, and watch from wherever he had positioned himself. They had begun to make executions public, and the crowds had now become viscous, almost primal in their lust for the Vox's blood. Watching these silent riots, the deaths without the screaming, the one's with those who wished for escape, but never to get it. To the common man of Columbia; the duke, they were not but fallen savages. To Daniel, they were fallen warriors. Though, he wasn't a total Vox supporter, mind you. He had seen the horrible things they had done, in their revenge. The one thing he admired most about them, the one that caused him to watch daily, was their truth filled words, or impassioned one's. That was something rare in Columbia, something dangerous, something fantastic.
As he turned to go, his mouth set into a perfect line, his heart racing furiously.
He had some unfinished business to attend to, and the two that could help him were currently awaiting his presence. As a scholar, and young man who could provide work, as well as the talent to avoid the repeated messages. He was invaluable to what they had in mind, to what they would need. But most of all, they needed his ability to keep his word, and that, he would do. Sometimes, he wondered if he had done so too well....
Vigors/Plasmids & Weapons
Bucking Bronco, Electro Bolt || Tommy Gun, Hand Cannon
Faction:
Knights