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 Posted: Wed Dec 01, 2004 4:16 am
Name of your character: Helio Vin
Age: 23
Hair Color: Platinum White
Eye Color: Dark Violet
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 142
Build: Muscularily slender with a bit of babyfat to absorb most of the impact from a hit.
Weapon of Choice: An unusually large "Double Headed Adjustable Wrench"
Appearence: Helio's hair, for starters, falls to around her mid-upper back and is normally tied in a tight pullback, all except one lock of shoulder length hair which falls freely over her right eye. She wears a matching pair of thick brown work gloves which help her weild her wrench for long periods of time without her hands becoming sore or blistered. Her blouse is nothing more than a long sleeve white button-down which is pulled up at the sleeves to her elbows, tucked into her pants, and unbuttoned to the third top button giving the appearance of a tough working chick. Around her waist is a plain black belt with a silver buckle, holding up her loose form fitting black slacks which have matching belt-like kneepads securly over her knee-caps. Which leaves her brown work boots and unmentionables as the rest of her outfit.
Background: She is, what you would say, 'Daddy's Little Princess' since she was raised by him and her older brother. Her life was filled with mechanical things, since her father happened to work repairing various...things. He and her brother both protected Helio from almost everything they could and occassionally wove fanciful tales of dragons helping people, beautiful maidens taming the vicious creatures that lived high in the mountains, and other things that would captivate the imagination of any little girl.
Helio had to grow without a mother, since hers had died around a month after she had been born, which clearly affected her personality and made her less feminine and more of a tom-boy. Her brother had taught her how to fight and stand up for herself before he left to marry and raise a family of his own; this would come into play when she was much older.
Helio's father decided to retire and build tools and weapons as a hobby, since he could never keep Helio away from his work, he eventually made her a special wrench to get her to go and play elsewhere. Of course it wasn't the weapon she weilds in her current age, but something smaller that she could handle and build her strength with. Over the years he sized the wrench and made it better for her.
A few years prior to now, Helio had been venturing abroad; exploring the cities which were kilometers away from the safety of her home. When she turned the corner to enter an allyway which would lead to a path she normally took to go home, she ran into a small group of obnoxious punks who were looking for a good time apparently. This had been Helio's first fight, which she managed to get away from alive, though fairly injured.
That fight would stay with her and make her stronger, tougher, and wiser like it might have for any other in her place.
After that occurance, she decided that it would be best to help others and prevent thugs or evildoers from hurting ones like herself. So, with her Father's blessings, she ventured off everyday from her house weilding her large wrench without mercy. It started off with simple run-downs of purse thieves and the occassional tiny monster that died with a simple kick.
After a while... she wanted to do more, be more, help more. In responce to her call she sought out information...and came across details about Shin-Ra from a group of traveling people and how Shin-Ra was making the world a better place...one area at a time.
Helio simply beamed at the thought and ran to ask her father's permission, which she would always act upon, whether she wanted to or not. He granted it reluctantly, not wanting his little girl to leave his side, since he had sheilded her from so many outside forces when she was a child.
Thusly, she wandered towards where she hoped to become a helper and supporter of Shin-Ra.
Example of How you Rp: 'Something's not right...' Dark violet eyes narrowed and cautiousely glanced around, surveying the area. "It's way too quiet in here." She was, of course, suggesting the fairly large factory room she had been sent to for returning a bit of ion ore that her father no longer needed.
Hesitantly she shifted her large metal wrench across her right shoulder and stepped further into the darkened building. The sharp echoing of her footsteps on the cold cement ground was enough to send chills up and down Helio's spine. All she wanted to do was just get rid of the stupid ore and return home, but she knew better than to just give it to any random person that popped up around her.
She continued forward, silently wishing that some form of light would illuminate her way, then paused to clear her throat. "Hello!?"
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Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2005 11:10 am
Name of your character: Kim
Age: 17
Hair Color: Light brown with blond highlights
Eye Color: light blue
Height: 5"4
Weight: 118
Build: lightweight
Weapon of Choice: handgun
Appearence: Kim has straight hair that touches her shoulders and bangs brushed back to either side. Sometimes she will wear her hair in a ponytail too. Her skin is a little pale and she is shorter than most people her age. She wears anti-glare glasses at all times that makes her look like a geek more than a fighter. She uses her left hand for everything. When she is not in uniform, she likes to wear comfortable clothing, usually the colors blue and yellow.
Personality: Kim will probably be the happiest Turk around. She almost always has a smile on her face and is ever the optimist in any situation. She has two sides to her, much like her Gemini sign intales- She is quiet and reserved around strangers but when she warms up to you she is vibrant and fun-loving. Some quirks are that she has very poor navigation skills and she's a little clumsy. She's also a hard worker and will work on something all night if she has to... which may result in her bumping into Reeve during crunch time.
Background: Kim comes from a normal, middle class family. Although her life was pretty good, she left home to go find an adventure which eventually led her to Midgar. There she got the best job she could in such a short amount of time- a secretary on floor 27. She worked there for a while, learning all about Shinra and the Turks. She decided that she wanted to be a Turk; it was a job that was certainly exciting. With that, she decided that she wanted to try for the job. She walked over to Rufus's door and... even though he wasn't in charge of the Turks, he agreed to let Kim have a shot at the job.
(To make the story short)
Rufus: Maybe you should be talking to my father... ~20 minutes later~ *sighs and looks at watch* Okay fine, I'll see what I can do. I'm not promising anything but I'm sure the Turks will try you out. So... can you please move the couch away from the door? I'm late for a meeting...
Example of How you Rp:
Kim walked down the quiet hallway, the sounds of her shoes making clicking sounds on the tile floor. She approached the door slowly, holding her breath as she nudged it open.
Ahead of her sat the elderly Mrs. Thanth, the rich widow that has been giving Shinra problems with her insistant complaints about her mako service. She had so much power; she could bring Shinra down if she wanted to. She had to be silenced if Shinra would move ahead. She sat on her velvet loveseat, looking out the window and smoking quietly. She had papers on the desk beside her, probably the latest complaints that she was gonig to send out.
Kim slowly walked into the apartment, trying to breath as quietly as possible. She had her hand gun in her right hand as she leaned against the entrance wall with her left. As if the room wasn't quiet enough, Mrs. Thanth put out her cigareete and laid back in her seat, closing her eyes and ending the noise. Still, Kim slowly made her way to the loveseat, sweat pouring down her cheek. She smiled to herself, "I thought my first job would be more exciting than this."
"Who's there?" cried Mrs. Thanth, springing up from her seat. She glanced around nervously until she saw Kim standing behind her with a smile on her face.
"Hello, Mrs. Thanth. How are you?" Kim asked, still smiling.
"You- What are you doing here?" She cried, frantically grabbing at the pearls around her boney neck. She looked at Kim, noticing the navy blue suit... "You're a Turk!!!!"
"That's right." Kim laughed, taking a step closer. She had to make this quick. Shinra would kill her for taking too long. Plus, a certain red head was planning to buy her a drink. "You've been causing some problems for Shinra, Mrs. Thanth. We at the company can't do a thing for you."
"...: Mrs. Thanth started to back up towards the window, the skyline could be seen from behind her.
"We feel so bad that we can't help you with your mako problems and we're sorry that you don't like our company." Mrs. Thanth flinched as Kim reached into her pocket. Kim pulled out a hairband, swifly putting her hair up in a ponytail. "Whooo, it's hot in here."
"I'll call 911!" She cried, leaning against the glass. She made no move towards the phone though, she looked scared stiff.
"Anyway, here is one thing we can do for you, Mrs. Thanth." Kim smiled. She lifted her hand gun from her right hand and swiftly moved it to her left. She raised her hand in the air, pointing the gun at the lady. "I'm sure you miss you husband. We'll give you a one-way ticket to meet him." Kim smiled at shot off the gun. The bullet hit her in the heart but it didn't go through her. Mrs. Thanth gave an painful sod and slid down the window to the floor. She twitched once and didn't move.
"Well, that takes care of that." Kim sighed, "A job well done."
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Posted: Tue Aug 02, 2005 11:35 pm
Name of your character: Skye Reina Williams
Age: 18
Hair Color: Silver
Eye Color: Lavender
Height: 5'10''
Weight: 126.5 lbs.
Build: Slender
Weapon of Choice: Kwan-Sword or a Sniper Rifle of her own creation.
Appearence: Tall and slender with a nicely rounded face and a well proportioned body. her eyes were as sharp as newly cut jems, yet they could also appear to be as soft as a satin dress. She was often smiling, and due to this fact, she often appears to be a good-natured young woman, yet she also appears to be rather shy and therefore isn't very often approached by others. Her long silver hair is perfectly straight, and frames her face neatly, the ends of her bangs reaching the bottom of her chin. In the back, her hair is often either done up halfway into a bun, letting the rest hang down her back, close to the backs of her knees, yet while she is at work she keeps her hair pulled back into a taut french braid, the very tip of the braid reaching down to just above the backs of her knees. Her skin is very pale, not being much darker in comparison than the pure white ivory keys of a piano. She has an almost ghostlike appearance, the only obvious differences from a ghost being the soft pink shade of her lips, and the light flushed pink color over her cheeks. (if ya need more, tell me. ^_^ )
Background: Not much is truly known of her background, other than she is the daughter of a fairly wealthy man. She often doesn't chose to speak of her past, only telling those who ask about her family that she ran away long ago and refuses to ever return to her parent's estate. She has been training to become a Turk since she turned 15, and has reportedly killed all 16 or so of her conquests in those short three years.
Example of How you Rp:
In the still of the dark night, a soft rustling of the foliage disturbs the quiet of the deep forest. Animals all retreat back into their dens as the intruder sprints through their home, the moonlight reflecting off of her ivory skin and silver hair. Her harsh breathing fills the animal's ears as she continues to push herself to keep up her sprint, sounding as if she had been running for hours. Her footsteps gradually begin to slow, a soft curse escaping her lips as she loses her footing and tumbles to the ground, leaves and dirt finding new homes in her shimmering long hair. She pushes herself up to her knees, turning her head quickly to glance over her shoulder, making very sure that she hasn't been followed. She holds her breath, listening for the sounds of footsteps, only releasing her breath once she is completely sure that all is silent other than the rustling of the leaves in the wind.
In all reality, she was afraid of what would happen, had someone truly been following her. Her father would surely punish her if she was brought back after an escape attempt like this one. She had been running for near 4 hours straight, and she wouldn't be able to hide herself quickly enough, if someone had been following her. A soft smile forms on her lips as she very slowly pushes herself to her feet, her gaze turning away from the path through the trees that had lead her to this place. instead she turns her gaze forward, attempting to look through the thick growth of trees in the direction of her destination: Midgar. She just had to reach that city if it was the last thing she did! The city's upper plates had fascinated her greatly during her family's last visit to the collossal city, and upon first sight of the ShinRa building, she knew that she just had to work there.
Upon returning home, she spoke with her father about what she wanted to do in the future. She confidantly told him that she wanted to join ShinRa as a member of the Turks. He had, of course, forbid her to even think such a thought ever again. However, she was unable to get it from her mind. She had never wanted anything more than she wanted this, she wanted this so much that it was all she could think about for so long. She began secretly practicing martial arts while she was at home alone, building up her strength as much as she could, before she realized that she couldn't go further alone. She had to find someone willing to teach her to fight, someone willing to train her to become stronger, and actually use a weapon. She had always been fond of the sniper rifles that she had seen in her father's weapon gallery. She loved their sleek design, and how powerful they were. Only one other weapon had ever caught her eye like the rifles did, and that weapon was the Kwan-Sword that her father had positioned against the wall in her private study. He knew that she had been fond of it, yet upon his delivery of the weapon to his daughter, he had absolutely no idea that the Kwan-Sword would be the exact weapon that she had taken along with her as she ran from her home that dark night.
She clutched tightly at the weapon's long handle, the long shimmering blade already splattered slightly by the blood of an animal that was unfortunate enough to think that she was edible. That animal, along with many others, lay in the foliage behind her at many different distances, the only marks that she had gone that way. She knew that it was rather careless of her to leave behind an indication that she was there, but she could do nothing about that now, all she could do was concentrate on reaching her destination. The man already knew that she was coming, and had been the one to agree to train her. He admired her ambition and her desire to accomplish her goal. His price was steep, but she was able to pay, and for that she was glad. She silently thanked her father for the money that he would give her weekly. Also thanking him for the other few useful items that he had given her, unknowing that they would enable her to free herself from the bonds of her family and finally get around to dragging her goal of becoming a Turk within reach.
A wide smile spread across her visage as she saw the light peeking through the end of the line of trees. She was almost to the edge of the forest, where the man had promised that he would be waiting for her. Happily, she summoned up the last waning bit of her energy, pushing herself to run to the light. She had made it over one of the many hills that she knew would lie in her path, and she promised herself that she would not stop going forward until the cold sleep of death had claimed her life. She took a step out of the darkness of the forest, making a decision the moment that she stepped into the bright light of sunrise. From that day forward she would not be Skye Leigh Ayana. From that exact moment on, she would be Skye Reina Williams, a girl no longer bound back by the restraints of her family.
}{How'd y'all like that glimpse into Skye's past? wink More to come... Possibly... Depends on if anyone gets her to open up. rofl }{
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Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2005 12:58 am
&COMMAND&__personnel report<
____________________________________________
!CLASSIFIED!
____________________________________________
PASSWORD: *****
&COMMAND&__"The Turks" --> Miyagawa, Natsumi]
____________________________________________
[BEGIN CODE --- 9513602]
____________________________________________
[STATS]
LAST, FIRST: Miyagawa, Natsumi..
CODE: Natsumi..
AGE: 19..
SEX: Female..
D.O.B: 1988 Midgar reckoning, 11/24..
BIRTHPLACE: Sector 8, Midgar..
[DESCRIPTION]
HEIGHT: 5'8"..
WEIGHT: 127 lbs..
BUILD: Slim..
EYE COLR: Green-hazel..
HAIR COLR: Dark brown..
COMPLXION: Pale..
DEXTERITY: Ambidextrous..
[BACKGROUND]
WPN>>HND-HND: Sword, katana; "BATSUKEN"..
WPN>>HND-HND: Dagger; "MARAUDER"..
WPN>>HND-HND: Mix of self-taught martial arts and bar brawling..
WPN>>RNGD: Semi-automatic handgun; "VALENTINE"..
TRAINING: Self-taught..
COMPNY: Shin-Ra Incorporated..
OCCUPATION: M.D.A.R Elite..
[SUBJECT'S APPEARANCE]
Physical Profile
Natsumi's face is heart-shaped. Her eyes are almond-shaped, with slit pupils due to the injection of JENOVA cells. Her layered hair is usually pulled back in a ponytail, allowing for her fringe and for some loose strands to frame her face. Her arms and hands are quite strong due to five years of consistent weaponry usage.
Clothing
When on duty, she wears bulky brown combat boots instead of Turk loafers; on her belt hang a holster for her gun, and a small leather scabbard for her dagger. She wears her Titan Bangle on her left wrist; her main weapon, Batsuken, is strapped diagonally, hanging, across her back. When off duty, her armour, footwear and weaponry are worn as usual. She tends to mix and match random clothing articles, thus her outfits vary.
[PERSONALITY]
Arrogant and narcissistic; yet at the same time mischievous, curious and ready to slack off at any given opportunity. Generally good-natured and emotional; occasionally insensitive, switches between mature and childish. Can be shy and extremely awkward in social situations, but very loyal to those she cares about. She has been injected with JENOVA-cells; and occasionally shows signs of physical and mental abnormality, although how this differs from her usual self is yet to be seen. Capable of doing most things well, is a relatively good computer hacker, cannot be trusted to drive a car. Noted to be rather fond of Wutaian food.
Many things in her life - i.e. weaponry, name, etc. - are noted to have some relation to Wutaian culture. Apparently Natsumi dislikes this.
[HISTORY]
Natsumi Miyagawa was born to Kojiyo, head of small-time Midgar company Miyamoto Weapons Manufacturers [branch of Shin-Ra Inc. often used when in need of cheap labour], and Sayuki Shinra, former socialite, and cousin of President Shin-Ra. Records show that the parents were legally married, but that they divorced shortly after Natsumi's birth, with Sayuki - age eighteen at the time - taking custody of her child. This effectively ruined Sayuki's standing in society, and she faded into obscurity as Natsumi grew up amongst the wealthy citizens of the Plate, equipped only with immaturity and the worst possible mix of character traits inherited from her parents.
One would think that, unlike most of the M.D.A.R. Elite, she experienced a luxurious childhood, and they would be correct in that assumption.
However, Sayuki, being a young, free-spirited mother, proved to be incapable of raising the child; thus she shipped Natsumi off to the Sector-8-residing Miyagawa family, comprising Kojiyo and his illegitimate son Odayo, who was described by Natsumi as an "annoying b*****d". The fourteen-year-old Natsumi was then subjected to tutelage in the general area of weaponry, weapon-manufacturing, swordsmanship and the like.
At the age of sixteen, Natsumi got a job as a grunt in Shin-Ra Incorporated, and had progressed up to the lower ranks of SOLDIER within a year. She then gained a motorbike [Shin-Ra Inc.-manufactured Hardy Daytona; named Leonardo da Vinci, 'LDV'] and the license to drive it. As luck would have it, she and a band of fourteen other potential SOLDIERs were later handpicked by Heidegger to spend a year in a training camp; during which the SOLDIERs, in theory, would be given a chance to develop their skills further and eventually complete an important mission of sorts. This would prove their worth to Shin-Ra Inc., who decided to kill two birds with one stone and made sure to ship them off to eliminate problems that concerned the company, rather than letting the cadets complete the normal simulated induction.
Natsumi survived the rigorous training methods of the camp using a combination of fortune and dogged, almost thickheaded, determination. Soon enough, she was chosen for a mission; and went to the Mythril Mines to destroy the base of a rapidly developing rebel faction, armed with her two swords and a bomb straight from Hojo's laboratories. Prior to her journey to the Mines, she was promised a promotion to Turk status if she completed her mission.
Natsumi was not an idiot, and so she accepted the offer.
[RECORDS CONCERNING THE SUBJECT]
Again, it rained; a deluge of droplets cascading from the heavens at an abnormal speed, accompanied by dark clouds in all shades of grey, and powerful winds whistling through the rocky hollows and passageways. The acoustics of the Mythril Mine meant that the wind's howls sounded like voices of suffering people. Natsumi smiled. That was a reassuring sound.
The Mine itself was quite a picturesque sight in the rain, a strange mosaic of dull grey rocks that glowed slightly with the shine of hidden mythril. The sight of the Mine in all its rain-drenched glory was promptly spoilt with the unpleasant sound of a soft splat as the mouldy turkey sandwich slid miserably downwards, having been impaled on the tip of a stalagmite - or stalactite. Whatever it was, she didn't know, nor did she care to find out.
"Bulls' eye," muttered Natsumi, the barest hint of smugness in her tone.
She was poking around a small cave for the third time that afternoon - literally. Jabbing at parts of the damp grotto with a sensor was not particularly entertaining; but hey, she was just a Shin-Ra newbie. She had to do her job. Natsumi had also decided to travel light, thus she was emptying her Shin-Ra standard pack of any unnecessary items. Said items included a key chain, a dust bunny and, of course, the sandwich of stomach cancer.
The small light at the tip of the metal sensor shone red. Adjusting her aertex sweater, Natsumi grabbed the hilt of her sword and poked the area with the blade. It was definitely solid. Standing on the tips of her boots to reach the ceiling, the ceiling parted the moment her finger touched it. Heat sensors, she noted. The hologram shimmered out of sight, revealing a largely metal ceiling. She angled her head for a better view. The projector that had been beaming the image was a little to the left, past the open metal sliding door - with a camera on top of it, transmitting. Not good. Natsumi ducked and fumbled in her bag for her gun, and fired a shot at the lens. No more camera. Still, she had to move quickly. She'd probably set off an alarm of some sorts. Unless the security man was on a coffee break and hadn't seen her.
Actually, he was enjoying an espresso and cracking perverted jokes with a colleague.
Natsumi pulled on a latex mask and over-large grey sweats, shoving her sword and other equipment into the grey duffel bag. Within two minutes, she was unrecognizable as herself. Shin-Ra had captured a known and supposedly important rebel army third-in-command, and now she was masquerading as the Wutaian man. Also, she had a small, badly-drawn map of the base - well, there was an extent to how well a Wutaian could draw under torture. Hojo should have known that.
___________________________________________________________________________________
After putting on her best Wutaian accent several times for the masses and a big fake smile for the mayor of Nibelheim on a negotiations visit, Natsumi was searching the halls frantically. She'd figured it wasn't necessary to kill the leader; if an army base collapses on top of one's head, it is sure to kill them. If the base fell, the leader would, too. Hojo's bomb was enough to destroy anything within a radius of a mile and she had to get out before then. Problem: she had a map tucked in her hand and had STILL gotten lost, with thirty minutes left to get out.
She stared dumbly at the paper, letting her duffel bag slide to the floor while she nearly dropped her weapons in despair. "Left, left, left, right and another left ... Gods, I hope that is the exit." Somehow Natsumi didn't think so. She hurried along the taupe-painted hall, three lefts and one right and a headlong bang into someone exiting the practice hall she'd passed earlier. He was dressed in a ... SOLDIER uniform? She squinted a little. Ah. Some special modifications had been made. It looked nice, really.
His name tag read YASUNOBU. Why did that sound familiar?
It took two seconds for it to click. Former SOLDIER ... great. The rebel army leader.
She shrugged - may as well kill two birds with one stone ...
"Commander," she greeted him cordially. The man tilted his head and frowned, sideburns twitching slightly.
"Is something wrong with your voice, Diego?"
So that was the third-in-command's name. "Uh, not really, sir. Must be your imagination."
The commander's jaw worked as he processed the implications. "You are heading to the practice hall, Diego?" He stared suspiciously at Marauder in her free hand, clearly trying to put two and two together. Natsumi winced.
"Yeah, I'm heading there. For, uh, practice. I want to try out my new sword."
Commander Yasunobu jabbed his index finger at the sword - his middle and ring fingers weren't there - and snapped at her, "I think that sword looks suspiciously familiar, don't you, Diego? Like one I saw up in Midgar, no?"
Not an idiot after all. "Yes," Natsumi said baldly, giving up all pretences and abandoning her Wutaian Male voice. "I think you might have seen it around Shin-Ra. I was only a grunt then. You look the same as you did then. Just as ugly."
She was playing for time, all the while assuming combat stance and gripping the weapon. Yasunobu did so, backing up against the door, opened it, stuck his head in, shrieked something about Code 3, came out and threw a punch in the direction of Natsumi's forehead. It bounced off, leaving Natsumi with nothing but a pale bruise. She thanked heavens for the thick latex and Diego's obesity. She gritted her teeth and dodged his roundhouse kick. Seemed like he was actually good at what he did. This was going to be a long fight.
A flurry of blows and dodges later, an exhausted and heavily bruised Natsumi Miyagawa was curled against the wall, panting like a long-furred dog in Costa del Sol. Worse, in fact. The Commander had trained himself harder than the Shin-Ra cadets, it seemed. Yasunobu was currently spitting into his cell phone and screaming something about reinforcements, evidently not realizing that cell phones weren't the best communication mode in a mine. Bloody hands gripping the similarly stained hilt of her swords, Natsumi staggered to her feet and swung the swords wildly, aim thrown off by an aching shoulder and a probably-broken left arm that seared with pain as it moved. The swords didn't hit the target; Marauder collided with the cell phone and stopped halfway through the neck [her other hit thin air and went clattering to the ground] before Natsumi collapsed; the corpse-to-be falling next to her. Splat. Natsumi looked at her palms. Crimson. A mix of blood. She'd have to sterilize herself later.
Not sparing any time for cliched parting speeches, she grabbed the bag with her uninjured arm and made off. The exit, luckily, was just downstairs. At least her memory still worked.
To her credit, she made it outside the blast zone before fainting.
___________________________________________________________________________________
"Fix your tie. Stop slouching. Button up that blouse of yours."
It just went on and on and on, thought Natsumi, irritated by her superior officer's various commands. Someone had fixed up her broken arm and shoulder, and less than an hour after being healed [and taken a bath] she was sitting in the Turks' main office, having just been officially recruited. Apparently one of the Turks had gone out to rescue her, according to the blabbering officer, and brought her back. I didn't know Shin-Ra cared.
She decided not to bother remembering the elder Turk's name. Word had it they were heading out on some mission or other, and in all likelihood would not return. But that was the job of a Turk - go on dangerous, risky missions that would probably take your neck off. Her senior wouldn't have gotten her job for nothing.
And if the senior Turk wasn't going to remember that Natsumi's name was pronounced Nat-Zi-Mi, there was no reason Natsumi should return the non-existent favour.
Curb that arrogance, you, squealed her dying conscience. Natsumi scowled, left her tie unfixed and, obeying the call of her ravenous stomach, headed off to the Shin-Ra cafeteria.
The chef was on vacation, thus Shin-Ra had hired a substitute; an abnormally pretty, pink-clad man who dumped mashed potatoes and grilled chicken on her tray, followed up by a peanut-butter pie. Natsumi banished most of her doubts about the man being homosexual and searched for an empty table, scanning the heads of the crowd. These Turks had very interesting hair. Bright yellow ponytail. Plenty of silver hair, for some reason or another. Dyed? wondered Natsumi. Light brown hair with a couple of blonde highlights. Maroon head. Blue head, green head. White, elderly-person hair. Auburn. Lots of brunettes. Some good-looking man with sanguine hair accompanied by a bald New Age version of Goliath; both in Turk suits.
No blonde male head, and therefore no Dearest Cousin Rufus. Not that he would acknowledge her anyway, except as a slums girl who had once been physically forced [and bribed with lots of Gil] to waltz with him. Natsumi recalled stepping on his feet, and Young!Rufus screaming like a little girl.
... No. She definitely did not want to sit with him. Even if he was there.
Deciding that she didn't want to look like a fool standing up to eat, she headed for some dark little corner to sit and brood alone in. Angst could be helpful at times, although she really couldn't complain that she had something to angst about. Dream life as a Turk: Officially accomplished. Narcissism fully satisfied with the makeup and new platform boots. What more could a teen ask for?
Unfortunately the cafeteria was crowded, thus Natsumi had to weave in and out of said crowd. She dodged a silver-haired Turk, pushed past another and fell, lunch tray flying into the yellow-head with a tan. Her lunch promptly spilled all over the yellow-head's uniform. Luckily, Natsumi managed to salvage the pie [it had been in a tupperware] and vanished into the crowd, her brown locks lost among the sea of color. With nobody paying attention, innocent until proven guilty. Right?
And who knew homosexual chefs made such good pie?
Oh well. Now, all that remained for her that afternoon was to attend that doctor's appointment ...
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Posted: Fri Sep 30, 2005 8:59 am
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Fri Sep 30, 2005 12:13 pm
(Wow, my application is damn long. XD)
&COMMAND&__personnel report<
____________________________________________
!CLASSIFIED!
____________________________________________
PASSWORD: *****
&COMMAND&__"The Turks" --> Ashton, Rainea]
____________________________________________
[BEGIN CODE --- 9513602]
____________________________________________
[STATS]
LAST, FIRST: Ashton, Rainea(Rain-ee-ah)...
CODE: Raine..
AGE: 24..
SEX: Female..
D.O.B: October 27th..
BIRTHPLACE: Mideel..
[DESCRIPTION]
HEIGHT: 5'8''..
WEIGHT: 145 lbs..
BUILD: Medium..
EYE COLR: Pale blue..
HAIR COLR: Black..
COMPLXION: Fair..
DEXTERITY: Left-handed..
[BACKGROUND]
WPN>>RNGD: Standard Turk Issued Handgun ...
WPN>>HND-HND: Small daggers (lightweight, yet strong, made for throwing)...
TRAINING: [Classified]...
COMPNY: Shin-Ra Inc ...
OCCUPATION: M.D.A.R Elite ...
Appearance: Pale blue eyes; straight shoulder-length black hair. Wears the standard blue Turk suit and takes care to make sure she looks presentable at all times. She always has a pair of shades, usually pushed up above her forehead. Raine always appears to be calm and composed, even if she isn't; a skill she quickly developed in a job where showing uncertainty or the slightest bit of fear means instant death.
Background/History: Born and raised in Mideel, she traveled to Midgar as soon as she turned seventeen, tired of the island life. For a year or two, she lived with her grandparents until she was able to find a place of her own.
At age twenty, she managed to secure a job at Shin-Ra; a military job that one could only be accepted into upon besting the more skilled military members. Thanks to the training her father put her through before he allowed her to leave Mideel, she passed with very little trouble, already earning her high regard. Especially since she'd used nothing but her fists and the throwing daggers she had against the swords of the higher-ups she was fighting.
After several missions, as her ability to keep calm and fight well in nearly all situations became apparent, she earned a promotion to Turk rank at twenty-two. It was then that she met and was paired up with Romero/Roma Riendez. The two found it easy to get along from the start and trust each other with their lives. Both are formidable on their own, but when they work together, they really become a force to be reckoned with.
Fighting background: She learned how to fistfight and become skilled with the daggers she uses from her father, but recieved addiional training in firearm use upon being accepted as a Turk in Midgar.
Example of How you Rp:
Raine glanced up at the twilight sky, a light breeze ruffling her hair. The sun had set maybe half an hour ago, and still some light refused to be taken over by the dark of night. There were clouds in the sky, and it was starting to rain. This weather reminded her of her first mission; that had been a dreary, wet day as well...
The city streets had been deserted, and all she could hear was the patter of rain drops and her boots as they clicked lightly on the sidewalk. There was the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance too, promising a storm.
She had become separated from Roma some time ago. Raine didn't even really remember how they had gotten separated in the first place, with all that had been going on the past few days, but it was undoubtedly due to the actions of the gang they were currently hunting.
The two partners had started this mission three days ago, and those three days had been filled with explosions, gunshots, threats, near-misses, fear, and worry. Yea, it was a lot to cram into three days. But the gang they were chasing had managed to do so.
"Hey, there she is!"
Raine whipped around to see exactly what she'd hoped wasn't there; yet more gang members. Damnit. There were only a handful of them, but in her current condition, she wouldn't be able to handle all of them at once.
She ran as bullets rained down with the water falling from the sky, not bothering to return fire, and eventually lost them in the twisting side alleys of the city. She sighed heavily, leaning against the wall of a building. Raine�s luck had kept with its current theme of horrible, and she'd been hit a couple times. Twice in her right shoulder, and once in the upper part of her left leg. She refused to let it slow her down though. Pushing off from the wall, she realized it took more effort than it probably should have. Gunshot wounds added to not sleeping for three days isn't generally a good thing.
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 12:32 pm
&COMMAND&__personnel report<
____________________________________________
!CLASSIFIED!
____________________________________________
PASSWORD: elitunt
&COMMAND&__"The_Turks" --> Arkenseel, Ehren]
____________________________________________
[BEGIN CODE --- 9511008]
____________________________________________
[STATS]
IMAGE: UNAVAILABLE
LST, FRST: Arkenseel, Ehren ...
CODE: Air ...
AGE: 33 ...
SEX: Male ...
DTEOFBRTH: 9 August ...
BIRTHPLCE: Nibelheim ...
[DESCRIPTION]
HEIGHT: 5'11" ...
WEIGHT: 154 lbs ...
BUILD: Slim ...
EYE COLR: Mako ...
HAIR COLR: Black ...
COMPLXION: Tan ...
DEXTERITY: Sinisterous (Left) ...
[BACKGROUND]
WPN>>RNGD: Standard Turk Issued Handgun [LASER SIGHTING ADDED; ELECTRIC CONDUIT ADAPTATIONS] ...
WPN>>RNGD: Standard Turk Issued Handgun [ELECTRIC CONDUIT ADAPTATIONS] ...
WPN>>HND-HND: Electrified Knife ...
EDUCATION: [Primary]: Nibelheim Educational Facility (Nameless) ...
TRAINING: [Combat]: General Martial Arts Training; [target] Pistol, Revolver, Rifle (Sniper), Rifle (Assault), Shotgun; [Battlefield]: Demolitions; [Subterfuge] Intel Gathering, Counter-Intel, Forgery, Diplomacy; [Stealth] General Issue Turks Stealth Training; [Chemicals] Explosives (pinpoint), Explosives (grenade), Explosives (detonation); [Electronics]: Bypassing (security systems), Hacking (computer security), Hacking (hardware), EMP Training, Security (internal) ...
ASCIATION: ShinRa, Inc. ...
OCUPATION: M.D.A.R. Elite Unit
SPECIALTY: [Intelligence Gathering Expert]: Computer and Hardware Hacking, Bypassing Security Systems, Information Networking; [Counter-Intelligence Expert]: Security Systems, Information Networking, Information Security; [Tactical Demolitions Expert]: Long Range, Pinpoint Explosives; [Black Ops]: Assassination (classified)
APPEARANCE: Unkempt and usually unshaven. Medium length black hair, often unkempt. His eyes have the Mako glow of a SOLDIER's. Slim in build. Rarely seen out of the Standard Issue Turks suit.
PERSONALITY: Undisciplined in daily life. Chronic womanizer, smoker, gambler, and drinker. Disrespectful of authority. Highly elitist.
EARLY HISTORY: ... Ehren Arkenseel, Subject #84219 ... some information classified, level nine. He was among a small group of people who disappeared for some time in Nibelheim prior to Sephiroth's birth, who, for the most part, returned unharmed. Showed early signs of a lack of discipline, and a penchant for guns and computers. Dropped out of school prior to secondary levels of education, and immigrated to Midgar at the age of seventeen.
COMPANY HISTORY: ... Ehren Arkenseel, Subject #84219 ... some information classified, level eight. Inducted at the age of seventeen after hacking into the ShinRa mainframe. Specialized in Intelligence and Ballistics, though he has participated in various classified operations (See: BLACK OPS) throughout his career. Was involved in the Eternity Project until its termination. Further information on this subject is classified. Two probations, both for sexual harassment.
WAR HISTORY: ... Ehren Arkenseel, Subject #84219 ... some information classified, level six. Acted as a counterintelligence agent and tactical demolitions expert in the Wutaian conflict.
...
--END Subject Bio--
____________________________________________
!CLASSIFIED!
____________________________________________
PASSWORD: ******
&COMMAND&__"The_Turks" --> Arkenseel, Ehren]
____________________________________________
[BEGIN CODE --- 9511008]
____________________________________________
[RECORDS]
Records: Subject #84219's Recruitment [Classified Level 3]
The kid--I call him a kid, not because of the way he thinks, nor even because of the way he acts, though those might arguably be reason to do so--rather because of the way he believes--and, obviously, because of the way he looks.
The kid was relaxing. He was stretched out on a flattish piece of debris that had fallen off of the upper plate during the last terrorist attack. He felt that it was a good place for stretching out on, and there was a momentary bit of sadness when he first realized this, because he knew that it would be carted off and melted down soon enough.
A man in a black suit was walking purposefully, yet slowly, towards him.
The kid lazily glanced over at the man striding towards him. He scrunched his nose, trying to place the face, but rather than pursue it, he looked back up at the sky.
The suited man stopped a couple of yards away from the rubbish on which the kid was lying.
"Excuse me," he said. The kid looked at him, again with the same lazy kind of sideways stare.
"Yeah?"
The man, looking a bit perturbed, continued. "Ehren Arkenseel." It wasn't a question. "My name is Tseng--"
"Yeah, I know," the kid interrupted him. "Your name's Tseng Zhuyang. You're a member of the Turks, and you're here to find out just how much I know about Shin-Ra; whether I know anything big; whether, if I do know anything big, I've told anybody else; if not, whether I might be willing to join the Turks; and, in the case that I refuse, to kill me dead." The kid--or Ehren, as we must now call him--finished, smiling. "Did I miss anything?"
The man's eye muscles spasmed once out of irritation.
"No, that more or less covers it," Tseng said.
"Good," said Ehren. "Well, I guess I kind of already answered the first two, didn't I? As to the others... don't worry. I haven't spilled any of Shin-Ra's dirtier little secrets. I gave a little information about Shin-Ra's stock to a couple of interested friends--and they were so overwhelmed by the act that they decided to... compensate me for my troubles. I haven't let any of your dirtier secrets slip." He smirked, and Tseng coughed in a very elitistly polite way.
"We might be willing to overlook that incident if--"
"If I accept your offer, yes, I know. And d'you know, I really don't give a damn. They may be friends, but they're not ones I'm terribly fond of." Ehren smiled maliciously. "As to whether I'm going to accept your offer... why do you think I even bothered hacking into the Shin-Ra database to begin with? I wanted the Turks to start paying me some attention."
Tseng frowned. The boy was really starting to get on his nerves. "You know, kid, you have some real discipline problems."
"And that's just the way I like it." Ehren laughed. "The way I see it is, as long as I'm just a bit more useful--or have the potential to be just a bit more useful--than I am irritating, I can get away with pretty much anything I please."
"That kind of attitude is going to get you killed someday, kid."
"I know," Ehren said. "Where would the fun be otherwise?" He smiled softly, and then looked up at the sky for a moment, before staring Tseng down with a grin in his eyes. "I do hope you brought some kind of vehicle. I don't much fancy walking all the way to Shin-Ra HQ, and the trains are pretty dodgy."
Tseng rolled his eyes. "My car's this way. Try not to scratch anything." Ehren's eyes widened.
"Wait--your car? Or the company's?"
"It's mine," Tseng replied flatly, leading Ehren towards it. "Why?"
"Hah," said Ehren. "You people really do have it made. A car of your own in Midgar? Do you have any idea how impossible that is to get for normal people?" He laughed and threw his hands behind his head as they reached the vehicle. "You think maybe I can get one later?"
As Tseng climbed into the black sports car, he rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath something to the effect of "Not if I can help it." Ehren laughed again, and climbed into the passenger side.
"Now, about the girls..."
--END Report--
Records: JENOVA Project, Extract from File #23 (Classified Level 9)
The recently constructed Shin-Ra Mansion was like a blot in the sun for the little town. Ever since it had appeared, strange things had begun to happen. Disappearances in the night. Many species of animals had left. The wolves no longer howled in the mountains, as if they were afraid of something. Even the weeds seemed to be dying off slowly. It was like the entire town was being consumed in a field of endless more-than-night.
The Turks in charge of crowd control, of course, had assured the people of the town that there was nothing to be worried about. The disappearances were completely unrelated--what was most likely, they commented, was that the few citizens that had gone missing had simply left, and would surely come back. The reaction of the wildlife and the local flora was a natural accustomization to the new Mako reactor, and as time went on, nature would return to its prevoius state. There seemed to be some truth to these statements. They'd heard similar things from the reports of people who'd been to the great city of Midgar, which had just had its fifth reactor built, seeming to indicate that similar things were happening to the natural environment around there. And some of the people who had disappeared had wandered back into town, seeming totally lost, but alive and unhurt.
The newly built Mako reactor was just having some tests run on it--so the Turks told the people of Nibelheim. It was a new design of reactor, and some experiments were being run to see how efficient it was, and other such official sounding things.
The people of Nibelheim assured themselves with these stories. They knew what kind of life the Reactor had the capability of bringing to their little town, and they would rather believe these stories than try to chase Shin-Ra out and ruin any chances they had of growing off of the reactor. Still, they were nervous. There was just something strangely sinister about it all.
Dr. Gast walked out of the mansion, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a lazy finger, and almost tripped over the small boy who'd fallen asleep in front of the door. He peered intently at the boy, but said nothing, simply wondering what a civilian was doing so close to the mansion. It wasn't strictly forbidden, but it was certainly unusual. Unless...
He was broken out of his reverie by his young assisstant, who'd been hurrying out of the mansion when he walked into Dr. Gast. Both men fell from the impact, causing the child to fall over, though he remained asleep.
Dr. Gast rose, rubbing his tailbone where it had hit the ground and wincing. "You know, Hojo, as much as I admire your enthusiam, you really shouldn't be running around that fast."
The assisstant--by no means a handsome specimen of mankind--somehow managed to look fawningly apologetic and rather offended at the same time--an expression very common to Hojo when he spoke to his superiors in the company, Dr. Gast noticed. "I'm sorry, Dr. Gast, but the newest specimen has somehow managed to escape its containment centre again--" he paused, noticing the boy sleeping on the ground.
"There it is," he sighed with relief, bending over to shake the boy. Gast grabbed his arm and yanked him away with strength surprising for a scientist of his age.
"Don't wake the poor boy up, Hojo," he reprimanded. "And he's not simply a 'specimen,' either. He's a human being, like either of us. Try to switch your positions in your mind sometime. It would do you a world of good."
Dr. Gast knew perfectly well what the company had in mind for the boy, as with all the other "specimens" they'd collected since coming to the small, unsuspecting town. Still, he couldn't help but feel that Hojo was being far too clinical about the entire business.
"What's this one's name?" the doctor asked Hojo.
"Name?" Hojo repeated, mildly confused. A spark of recognition appeared in his small, black eyes. "Oh, yes..." He pulled out a clipboard, and flipped a couple of pages. Scanning the sheet, he found it. "Here, Jenova Project Specimen Number 7, name, Ehren Arkenseel, age, 3... as of last month, as a matter of fact."
"Ehren, hm?" Dr. Gast replied. "It's a good name. If I ever have a boy like him..." The doctor smiled, knowing that that was virtually impossible given the nature of his work.
The doctor bent to pick the sleeping child up. It was a pity that they had no choice but to use innocents like these for their experiments. But the cause... restoring the Cetra--the ancients to their former place in the world--this would be worth it. He didn't care if whatever God there was out there wouldn't forgive him. For the Cetra--for the entire human race, he'd have to continue, to press on in these exeperiments. Cradling the child gently, much like a father, he carried him back into the mysterious depths of the mansion, Hojo leading the way.
... !ERROR! ... Password INVALID for further access.
--END Report--
!RESTRICTED: SESSION TERMINATED!
Note: The use of Tseng's name has been authorized for the purpose of this post, but will be disregarded in the future. It is used here to refer to a charismatic and influential young member of the Turks who later comes to a leadership position within the organization.
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