Post by Zakry Krowe on Jun 17, 2014 20:28:37 GMT -8
Name: Zakry Krowe
Codename: "Imp"
Age: Twenty-Three
Race: Human
Ethnicity: Caucasian - Scottish
Origin: Born in a small orphanage in Northern Scotland, Zakry was the ideal candidate for the Titan Project. He had no family to object to the tests he would undergo, his only brothers and sisters were those who joined him in the orphanage. He was young enough to begin early testing, and lucky enough to be chosen from the lottery system. For two years he was poked and pricked with needles both long and short. Liquids spent time in and out of his body for the duration of the time, the pain was severe but early enough in his life to where he would never remember.
Personality: Much like today's military Zakry shares similar personalities, he is childish and usually needs to be watched closely when left out of uniform. When in uniform he is the pride and honor of the ship, he is level-headed and confident when speaking and is always sure of himself. Often putting the group in front of himself he is very direct and blunt when speaking, sometimes not even thinking of feelings or how someone may feel. Over time his personality may change and he may mold himself away from the military life and into a different character in himself, but only time will be able to tell.
Appearance: His physical appearance is Ben Foster, while his Prefered Rifle is a heavily modified M14. Known for its single shot rate of fire and accuracy at long range. In times where he must be in close quarters he can quickly disassemble the components and change the rifle barrel to a much shorter weapon for hallways and thick brush.
Role Play Sample: Slowly the machine warmed to melt the man hidden behind the frosted layer of ice. The process taking no longer than fifteen minutes, but not long enough for the body to gain conscience, the limp body falling to the ground as the machine rotates from a vertical chamber to a horizontal bed. In a raging cough Zakry spits up vomit and blood as his eyes open in a fury and violent jerk. Slowly gaining sight he looks up from the cold ground, his strength growing as his blood beginning to steadily stream through the heart. Clenching his fist the numbness of his body fading granting him the strength to rise.
Occasional coughs as he pushes himself off the ground, his nude body looking around the space in which he was released from. A small locker lie ahead of him with his name plated in gold. Trying to open the small locker with his numbed fingers proved far more difficult than he thought, eventually his hands began to operate properly allowing him to open the locker to show his designate rifle and a pale green uniform. Reaching for his rifle first the cold steel felt comfortable and right in his hands, but something had fallen onto it. A drip of blood that had fallen from his nose a small side effect from the cryogenics. Shrugging it off and reaching for the uniform.
Within ten minutes Zakry was dressed and ready to meet his officer, he slide his hand over the door command. With a simple swoosh of the door he was blinded and ready to meet the world he would call home. With his rifle slung on his back he stepped forward into the white halls for hope and direction to the nearest officer for further instruction.
Codename: "Imp"
Age: Twenty-Three
Race: Human
Ethnicity: Caucasian - Scottish
Origin: Born in a small orphanage in Northern Scotland, Zakry was the ideal candidate for the Titan Project. He had no family to object to the tests he would undergo, his only brothers and sisters were those who joined him in the orphanage. He was young enough to begin early testing, and lucky enough to be chosen from the lottery system. For two years he was poked and pricked with needles both long and short. Liquids spent time in and out of his body for the duration of the time, the pain was severe but early enough in his life to where he would never remember.
Personality: Much like today's military Zakry shares similar personalities, he is childish and usually needs to be watched closely when left out of uniform. When in uniform he is the pride and honor of the ship, he is level-headed and confident when speaking and is always sure of himself. Often putting the group in front of himself he is very direct and blunt when speaking, sometimes not even thinking of feelings or how someone may feel. Over time his personality may change and he may mold himself away from the military life and into a different character in himself, but only time will be able to tell.
Appearance: His physical appearance is Ben Foster, while his Prefered Rifle is a heavily modified M14. Known for its single shot rate of fire and accuracy at long range. In times where he must be in close quarters he can quickly disassemble the components and change the rifle barrel to a much shorter weapon for hallways and thick brush.
Role Play Sample: Slowly the machine warmed to melt the man hidden behind the frosted layer of ice. The process taking no longer than fifteen minutes, but not long enough for the body to gain conscience, the limp body falling to the ground as the machine rotates from a vertical chamber to a horizontal bed. In a raging cough Zakry spits up vomit and blood as his eyes open in a fury and violent jerk. Slowly gaining sight he looks up from the cold ground, his strength growing as his blood beginning to steadily stream through the heart. Clenching his fist the numbness of his body fading granting him the strength to rise.
Occasional coughs as he pushes himself off the ground, his nude body looking around the space in which he was released from. A small locker lie ahead of him with his name plated in gold. Trying to open the small locker with his numbed fingers proved far more difficult than he thought, eventually his hands began to operate properly allowing him to open the locker to show his designate rifle and a pale green uniform. Reaching for his rifle first the cold steel felt comfortable and right in his hands, but something had fallen onto it. A drip of blood that had fallen from his nose a small side effect from the cryogenics. Shrugging it off and reaching for the uniform.
Within ten minutes Zakry was dressed and ready to meet his officer, he slide his hand over the door command. With a simple swoosh of the door he was blinded and ready to meet the world he would call home. With his rifle slung on his back he stepped forward into the white halls for hope and direction to the nearest officer for further instruction.
