@Atrophy; London is so damn beautiful... you'll love it..!! I know I did..!!
Vicier
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Demigod at heart <3
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This Bastion buff is ridiculous -.-
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Fᴜʟʟ Nᴀᴍᴇ
☄ Lux XI
Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ
☄ Lucky
Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ
☄ Female
Sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs
☄ Canis Familiaris (Golden Retriever)
Pʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴏғ Oʀɪɢɪɴ
☄ Moscow, Russia
Aɢᴇ
☄ Unknown
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ
☄ November 3rd, 1945
Sᴄᴇɴᴛ
☄ Smells like a clean, well-groomed dog, expensive dog treats, and the chemicals which make up first-aid kits.
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Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ
☄ Siblings: Lux I - X (Deceased)
Lucky was one of nine canines to be sent up into space. To save on costs, the scientists purchased two litters: eight bitches and three dogs. So far, Lucky is the only one to have survived re-entry, or even re-entered the Earth's atmosphere at all... albeit 40 years late.
Pᴀᴄᴋ
☄ Alexei Demyanenko (Deceased)
Russian astrophysicist and head of the space program that sent Lux XI (among other dogs) into deep space in individual spacecrafts. He advocated for the ships to be built with the capability of surviving re-entry––he didn't need to, and for that he will always be held king in Lucky's heart. He taught her to 'fetch'. Told her she was a good girl. She wishes he could see her now.
☄ Jack Morrison (Deceased)
Scared and alone after her ship landed in the Ukraine and Demyanenko was not there to greet her, Jack Morrison was the first human Lucky met following her return to Earth. Although it was a mere mission for Overwatch to investigate the UFO (her pod) that crashed, the organisation was allowed to keep Lucky for PR reasons after realising her unique talents and altered genome. When told about his death, Lucky mourned greatly. Jack is her Master. And he always will be. (His litter are no substitute, but she loves them, too.)
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Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ
☄ Smart ♦ Guileless ♦ Optimistic ♦ Forgiving ♦ Loyal
There's a reason why dogs are often called man's best friend. Despite coming from a world that has sent her into the unknown to die in the name of progress, all Lucky can think of is how she can next best help mankind as a whole, and those humans who she loves and adores first and foremost. It is why, despite the opportunity for living a cushy retirement, she chose to stay with Overwatch––the type of institution that seeks to do good in the world no matter the cost to its agents, to her. She will gladly sacrifice her life for another, as long as she's told she's a 'good dog' at the end of it.
All dogs go to Heaven; she doesn't have the fear of the unknown as humans tend to have.
This simplistic thought process is at odds with the advanced problem solving and capabilities of Lucky's mind, which are far beyond all but elite scientists. Her problem, however, is in voicing her thoughts. Often she is frustrated with the communication problems of her form, but that's just the way the cookie crumbled. It allows her so much: to think and dream and feel, though she's sure she already did all of those beforehand, she just couldn't put a name to them.
Lucky can seem somewhat motherly (she's never had a litter of her own, after all) and likes to lick wounds and fuss over those she cares about, which is everyone. She also has a streak of mischief in her, because nobody expects the brainy dog to tear up the newspapers or chew on technology. Unfortunately, she cannot lie, so she tends to wallow in guilt afterwards and it's immediately obvious to all who set eyes on her.
All dogs go to Heaven; she doesn't have the fear of the unknown as humans tend to have.
This simplistic thought process is at odds with the advanced problem solving and capabilities of Lucky's mind, which are far beyond all but elite scientists. Her problem, however, is in voicing her thoughts. Often she is frustrated with the communication problems of her form, but that's just the way the cookie crumbled. It allows her so much: to think and dream and feel, though she's sure she already did all of those beforehand, she just couldn't put a name to them.
Lucky can seem somewhat motherly (she's never had a litter of her own, after all) and likes to lick wounds and fuss over those she cares about, which is everyone. She also has a streak of mischief in her, because nobody expects the brainy dog to tear up the newspapers or chew on technology. Unfortunately, she cannot lie, so she tends to wallow in guilt afterwards and it's immediately obvious to all who set eyes on her.
Lɪᴋᴇs
❤ Praise.
❤ Scientific advancements.
❤ Puppies.
❤ Snow.
❤ Medals and certificates.
❤ Mankind.
Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs
💔 Animal testing.
💔 Darkness.
💔 Loneliness.
💔 Abandonment.
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs
☄ Listening to audio-books, learning.
☄ Stargazing.
☄ Fetch.
Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs
☄ Intelligence
The next level of canine evolution? Lucky can understand much more than the average dog, and even much more than the average human. Advanced mathematics, physics, chemistry and other related fields are all child's play to her, and it is clear that she has an innate understanding of most proofs and truths in the world of academia. Her capacity for learning is nothing short of unnatural.
☄ Moral Decisiveness
Lucky sees the world in black and white, and has no qualms about saying whether something was the right or wrong thing to do. It might seem short-sighted to some, but there are benefits to this simplicity: she never fails to make decisions, because to her the answer is not vague and ambiguous as it might seem to others. The guiding star on her moral compass? If it helps mankind, it is right, but if it saves a life, it is more right.
☄ Ingenuity
Lucky is an inventor who used her background to create her own combat systems along with other tools to help her in the world of humans. She is constantly trying to better herself or create more dog-friendly gadgets to use in combat. It would not be surprising if she were to MacGuyver a weapon on the field.
Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs
☄ Communication
Lucky cannot talk. Nothing can fix this. In combat she is sometimes seen as a liability because she cannot bark out warnings or request aid when under attack. Although she has some commands built into her suit, preset, they are not very descriptive and only amount to 'hello', 'need healing', 'group up' and a catchphrase. To interact with others she either relies on gestures or uses her laborious interface to create text for what she intends to say.
☄ Fragility
She isn't a normal dog, but she's still a dog. For all Lucky's physical form has changed to give her some kind of immunity (or resistance) to aging, it hasn't done anything for her endurance. She is much more fragile than the average human, unlikely to take more than a hit or two even with armor. Humans kill dogs all the time. She's not any more special than the others.
☄ Naivety
The frameworks of Lucky's upbringing are still present: she was raised to believe the best in humans. Her mind, though advanced, works differently from a human's. Not only does she find it physically impossible to lie, but she also cannot detect dishonesty or disguised attempts to do her harm. She has to rely on her bestial senses, but even those are flawed when it comes to picking out an enemy among friends.
Bɪᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ
"What was space like, Lucky?"
Lᴏɴᴇʟʏ. It is the answer nobody wants to hear, so she keeps it to herself. Lucky tells no lies when recounting her story through the wonders of dog-computer interfaces: she talks about how beautiful the stars were; how jarring the feeling of being launched into space; how proud she felt to have been chosen to represent mankind––her, a dog!––on its first forays into the unknown. All of these were interpretations made in hindsight: she is aware that she did not have proper sentience on a human scale when she was first sent up, but that doesn't mean she can't remember feelings like unending love and crippling fear.
Lucky went up to outer space in the year 1947. She was part of a litter of five and followed by a litter of six dubiously purebred golden retrievers that were both purchased by the government for use in the space program. There were no expectations of her survival, and indeed, ground control lost the connection to the sensors after eighteen hours of her in outer space, and she was considered gone like the others.
What happened next is pure speculation, because Lucky's craft returned in the year 2002, narrowly missing the turn of the millennium. The landing site was noticed by Overwatch, and a team was sent out to investigate headed by the leader himself, Jack Morrison, due to the tender nature of relations between the organisation and the Ukraine at the time. It was then that Lucky was discovered, alive. Despite claims from the Russian government, Overwatch refused to hand her over, causing a minor diplomatic incident.
A full spectrum analysis of her revealed that she had been affected by some sort of cosmic radiation that has not been seen in any other cases before or since. Whatever caused this resulted in Lucky's abnormal intelligence, which would register in the top 3% of humans. It was shown that she understood English clearly, as well as Russian, despite not having interacted with anyone speaking the latter since her expedition. She understood philosophy and science within hours. She could read, with some difficulty, though the implementation of text-to-speech systems in her quarters at Overwatch (on the order of Commander Morrison) made learning so much easier.
And yet, despite all of this, she could not learn to speak. Perhaps it was all for the better: it is much easier to omit details without guilt when one is carefully typing it out, letter by letter.
Even after Overwatch disbanded (and dearest Jack was declared dead), Lucky remained a popular figure in the media, often seen at important diplomatic events worldwide––especially when they were to do with space-travel and scientific advancements. She made something of a name for herself as an academic, though encouraged to do so mostly due to the complete strangeness of the situation, but jumped at the chance to do good for mankind once more.
Lᴏɴᴇʟʏ. It is the answer nobody wants to hear, so she keeps it to herself. Lucky tells no lies when recounting her story through the wonders of dog-computer interfaces: she talks about how beautiful the stars were; how jarring the feeling of being launched into space; how proud she felt to have been chosen to represent mankind––her, a dog!––on its first forays into the unknown. All of these were interpretations made in hindsight: she is aware that she did not have proper sentience on a human scale when she was first sent up, but that doesn't mean she can't remember feelings like unending love and crippling fear.
Lucky went up to outer space in the year 1947. She was part of a litter of five and followed by a litter of six dubiously purebred golden retrievers that were both purchased by the government for use in the space program. There were no expectations of her survival, and indeed, ground control lost the connection to the sensors after eighteen hours of her in outer space, and she was considered gone like the others.
What happened next is pure speculation, because Lucky's craft returned in the year 2002, narrowly missing the turn of the millennium. The landing site was noticed by Overwatch, and a team was sent out to investigate headed by the leader himself, Jack Morrison, due to the tender nature of relations between the organisation and the Ukraine at the time. It was then that Lucky was discovered, alive. Despite claims from the Russian government, Overwatch refused to hand her over, causing a minor diplomatic incident.
A full spectrum analysis of her revealed that she had been affected by some sort of cosmic radiation that has not been seen in any other cases before or since. Whatever caused this resulted in Lucky's abnormal intelligence, which would register in the top 3% of humans. It was shown that she understood English clearly, as well as Russian, despite not having interacted with anyone speaking the latter since her expedition. She understood philosophy and science within hours. She could read, with some difficulty, though the implementation of text-to-speech systems in her quarters at Overwatch (on the order of Commander Morrison) made learning so much easier.
And yet, despite all of this, she could not learn to speak. Perhaps it was all for the better: it is much easier to omit details without guilt when one is carefully typing it out, letter by letter.
Even after Overwatch disbanded (and dearest Jack was declared dead), Lucky remained a popular figure in the media, often seen at important diplomatic events worldwide––especially when they were to do with space-travel and scientific advancements. She made something of a name for herself as an academic, though encouraged to do so mostly due to the complete strangeness of the situation, but jumped at the chance to do good for mankind once more.
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Aʟɪᴀs
☄ Lucky
Aғғɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
☄ Overwatch
Bᴀsᴇ ᴏғ Oᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs
☄ Forks, Washington
Rᴏʟᴇ
☄ Support
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
☄ Agent of Overwatch (Science and Research)
Fᴏʀᴍᴇʀ Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
☄ Astronaut
☄ Rocket Scientist
☄ Reality TV Star
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Aʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs
☄ Zero-G Maneuvers
Dogs are light-weight, or at least, Lucky is as the runt of the litter. It is easier for her to maneuver around in zero-g than it would be a human. Her custom-made Spacesuit is designed to produce a contained field of zero-gravity just large enough to encompass her. She uses small jet packs to aid movement within this. It can be turned on and off at will when she jumps into the air and when she barks a specific command.
☄ Fetch
Lucky uses her canine agility to run from health pack to health pack, pick it up, and deliver it directly to an ally in need. When carrying one of these kits in her mouth, she moves at double speed, motivated by the prospect of helping somebody. She can only carry one of them at a time, but everyone knows that they're everywhere in the world.
☄ Wing Clip
Lucky, in melee range, latches onto an enemy the only way she knows how: her teeth. She must be pried off. A typical non-armoured enemy won't be able to move unless they somehow remove her, and after that (for a short period of time) their movement is slowed immensely.
Wᴇᴀᴘᴏɴs
☄ Head-Mounted Laser
Adapted for use from pre-existing weaponry, Lucky's version of the laser is still automatically guided but does very little damage. Instead, once it is locked on, it reduces the speed of an enemy, progressively getting worse. The range is fairly short, requiring Lucky to put herself in harm's way to use it effectively.
☄ Teeth
'Nuff said.
☄ Spacesuit
It's not everyday one sees a dog in an astronaut costume. This outfit provides Lucky with a minor regenerating shield, which allows her to take more risks, and also enables her Zero-G Maneuvers. It is also self-buttoning and self-lacing; she doesn't need anyone's help to get into it. Her inbuilt headset takes in voice commands (barks and growls) and responds with the relevant message in English to her teammates, although only for simple sentences. Metal hands unfold from the suit to help her with finicky tasks that require opposable thumbs.
Uʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ
☄ Artificial Gravity Field
Lucky knows how to turn things up to eleven. Once she has charged up her artificial gravity field, contained in a small circular projectile, she can release it on her enemies. It works best if they are all grouped up. In a medium-sized area of effect, about the size of a room, gravity suddenly weighs down heavily on all enemies inside, bringing their movement to a standstill for the duration of the effect.
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Tʜᴇᴍᴇ Sᴏɴɢ
☄ Wil Wagner – Laika
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Fine.
If complete and utter accuracy is what you desire, then that's what I'll give you. But as I said in the PM I sent you, it will have to wait until I have had sleep, and am no longer in the mood that I am in.
If people are happy to start with the post that I have put up, complete accuracy or not, let me know now before I pass out. If not, I'll be happy to retract the post altogether until all the facts are accounted for.
Either way, I plan on fixing the post; and either way, I need you all to let me know now.
If complete and utter accuracy is what you desire, then that's what I'll give you. But as I said in the PM I sent you, it will have to wait until I have had sleep, and am no longer in the mood that I am in.
If people are happy to start with the post that I have put up, complete accuracy or not, let me know now before I pass out. If not, I'll be happy to retract the post altogether until all the facts are accounted for.
Either way, I plan on fixing the post; and either way, I need you all to let me know now.
@MiddleEarthRoze; haha, yeah, House was also a major inspiration, been binging it for days now. The scenario is from house yes, season two actually; but I do actually do research into what I write about, and have multiple tabs open on my laptop devoted to the actual desease because one: I like to make sure I understand what I'm posting about, and two: if you look on the wikia, even they have stated that some of the facts were not correct in the show.
EDIT: If I have made a mistake in what I have written, it is one I will rectify at a time when it is not 4.30am in the morning. For now, however, the roleplay is started.
EDIT: If I have made a mistake in what I have written, it is one I will rectify at a time when it is not 4.30am in the morning. For now, however, the roleplay is started.
Sorry for taking so long with the opening post; it took me a while to figure out what I wanted to do for it... and then on top of that, the medical side of it took a bit of looking into. Loll.
Angela Ziegler
Location: Overwatch Headquarters - Forks; Washington.
Interacting With: Anyone else awake and hungry at base.
Ian Dawson. Male. Six years old.
Patient was admitted into the ER on the twentieth of February with excessive rectal bleeding. Patient is unable to perceive objects in three dimensions, showing his brain is disconnecting from his muscles. Since admittance to the hospital, symptoms have escalated to include bloody diarrhea and stomach pains. So far patient is hemodynamically stable, although he has been developing some co-ordination problems.
Patient was admitted into the ER on the twentieth of February with excessive rectal bleeding. Patient is unable to perceive objects in three dimensions, showing his brain is disconnecting from his muscles. Since admittance to the hospital, symptoms have escalated to include bloody diarrhea and stomach pains. So far patient is hemodynamically stable, although he has been developing some co-ordination problems.
Frowning with slight worry, Angela shifted within her seat, causing it to turn as she sat forward, her bright blue orbs fixated on the patient file that was lain out before her- the poor child… he didn’t ask for any of this; he didn’t deserve any of this. But wishing and praying weren’t going to help her solve this case. That was for the parents; as a consultant on this particular case, her job was to do all that she could to help make the child better, so that he could go out and enjoy life as any other child his age would.
Even so, this was not going to be an easy case…
Shifting once more at her desk, she lifted her leg up, crossing it over the other as she reached out to the file, flicking through the different forms; looking for something… anything that was going to give her some clue as to what could be affecting the boy so much that it had ended up with him in the hospital like he was, “..a six year old child… he’s young; his immune systems don’t work as well as that of an adult, they could be compromised. Could be Listeria…”
“I already checked for that. Leukemia has a higher prevalence in the young- so does asthma. Could also be diabetes.”
“No… it’s too simple; besides, the child shows no signs of kidney failure… though I must admit, I have ill feeling that he soon will, should my suspicions be confirmed.” Sighing softly, Angela let the paper slip through her finger, allowing it to once more settle within the file as her head lightly shook from side to side- please to God, let her be wrong in her suspicions… nevertheless, if they were to catch it early on before the disease had time to set any further-…
“..I want you to do a colonoscopy.” Lifting her eyes from the information lain out before her in the file, she let her gaze settle on the black phone, knowing that what she had just suggested to those she was on call with would have come with a slight shock considering the age of the patient; but she had to be sure… she had to, “..I know it isn’t routine given the patients age, however, I believe it to be a necessary evil; especially if we wish to get to the bottom of this case. During the procedure, I want you to look out for purple papules; if you find any, take a sample… I want you to test for Erdheim-Chester.”
“Erdheim-Chester..? You believe this is a disease that has had, what..? Only two hundred reported cases, ever.”
“I know that this is a long shot… however the symptoms fit with the diagnosis.” Pausing for a short spell so that the doctors on the other line could think over the idea, Angela lifted her hand up, running her fingers back through her long blonde locks, pushing them back though with not much success as they once more fell back down, framing her face as she turned her attention back down to the patient file, “..run the test… if it comes back positive, start him on Systemic corticosteroids. I want you to keep me informed on his condition; and call me right away should any complications arise.”
“Understood… we’ll be in touch soon with the results of the test.”
Unable to help the small and rather relieved (though still saddened) smile that played over her soft pink lips, Angela leant forward slightly, her gaze dropping and a gentle sigh falling as she hit the ‘end call’ button on the phone, her body seeming frozen in the moment for what felt like a lifetime before she leant herself back in her chair, her head resting against the leather and her eyes flicking out of the large floor to ceiling windows on the far wall as she allowed herself a moment to think- this case… if she was right about her diagnosis; it was a big one, and with only two hundred reported cases worldwide-…
She was just praying that she was both right, and wrong about this being number two hundred and one.
Seemingly managing to finally pull herself out of her own little world, Angela closed the file, pushing it over to the side of her desk as she got to her feet, causing the chair she had been using to roll back ever slightly as she made her way around the desk and towards the door, her long white coat hung open and bouncing lightly against the back of her calves, and her heels making soft clicks over the polished floors as she followed the familiar path through the base- it was huge… when it had first been built, it had taken her days, if not weeks to remember the paths, and to not get lost whenever she tried to find her way around.
It was ridiculous how many times she had gone searching for the lounge, only to then end up in the middle of the gym. It was embarrassing… and it was because of that fact that she had made it her mission to help any new members out- it was the reason each member received a map included within their induction paperwork.
Whether or not they chose to use it was to their own discretion and, on the odd occasion, their humiliation.
Slipping her hands down into the pockets of her lab coat, she let her brilliant blue eyes flick about the halls, allowing them to linger upon the photos… the plaques… the memorials… Each one had a story to tell; and each one was just as important than the last. Slowing to a stop, Angela turned to face one in particular, her head tilting lightly to the side as her eyes lingered upon the familiar faces held safe within the frame; her own being one of them. How quickly things could change… the fact that in a drop of the hat- just a quick twist of fate; and everything you held dear could all be over…
Hesitating a moment, she lifted her hand, the very tips of her fingers brushing lightly over the glass for a moment before she forced herself to turn away, her hand once more returning to the warmth and safety of her pocket as she turned on her heel, the gentle click of her heels once more filling the air as she rounded the corner, her gaze flicking up to the large staircase that led to the bedrooms- it was still early… once again, she had watched the sun rising from her office as she did what she could to complete her work. Perhaps no one had risen yet..?
Pushing the thought from her mind, Angela rounded yet another corner, her body slipping through the open arch and into the familiar décor that was the kitchen. Pristine… no mess in sight… not a thing out of its place; either she was correct in her assumption that no one had woken yet, or they had all chosen to skip breakfast on the same day. Unable to stop the way her lips turned up in a more genuine smile than before, she brought her hands up to her coat, shrugging it off and draping it lightly over the back of one of the stools at the bench before she moved further into the room, taking a moment to roll up the sleeves on her white shirt before getting to work, the smell of bacon and eggs (enough for what looked like a small army) filling the air around her before floating out into the hall for all to enjoy.
"People are not born heroes or villains... they are created by the people around them."
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