Post by Tanjuu on May 24, 2009 3:10:37 GMT -5
C H A R C T E R I N FO
(Code)Name: Valmont Foxtrot
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Bio:
History: At birth, Valmont was raised with a sole purpose in mind; to protect his county of origin. His parents forced him into Australian military service the instant he hit the legal age. Deeply resenting this sort of decision, he would make it his mission in life to somehow attain an edge over his parents and ‘get back’ at them. Proficiency at the firing range and receiving a few medals for marksmanship with a variety of firearms, the last action given during his stint in the army directed solely to his cruel and irate sergeant, was a profound and inspiring one finger salute. Sufficiently making his exit, Valmont was recruited into a freelance mercenary force, performing covert ops and espionage missions with military inspired tactics, minus the military methods of discipline and nature. Discarding his previous surname, he chose the code sign Foxtrot (F in the NATO phonetic alphabet) and began to earn a living. Then hell broke loose…
Physical: As an effect from the years of military training and whatnot, Valmont’s body is both in the lean and muscular category (That is to say, 245lbs and 6’3”). Dark chestnut short hair and green eyes make up his natural features. This physique is covered with a pair of khaki camouflage pants, desert camouflage singlet, black combat boots, black biker gloves and an open khaki kutte vest. Emblazoned on the back of the vest is his self-designed logo, an anthromorphic fox in soldier’s battle dress grinning wickedly and brandishing a Ka-bar. Valmont’s own Ka-bar is placed in a holster inside the kutte vest, the little spoken of Armalite MH-12 on the opposite side of the vest, grenades hang off a black leather belt around the waist, an M16 slung over the back of the shoulders and a Heckler & Koch Mark 23 in his right hip holster. (There is also a rarely used M9 tranquillizer pistol on the right hip holster.) Ammunition for these weapons is attached to the inside of the vest in both magazine and belt form. Finally, a pair of silver dog tags hangs on a chain around his neck scribed with his name and personal information.
Personality: After being in the Australian military for such a period of time, he retains the suspicious and judgmental attitude towards strangers. Never quite trusting you until the time when you prove yourself to be an ally. After which he opens up to you, and you discover that he’s actually not all that bad of a person. Quite chummy and confident as all Australians invariably are, he also shows comradeship and tends to follow instructions to the letter, but only those he sees as well processed plans.
Role Play Post Example: It had all happened in a matter of minutes, but the effects of such an occurrence were devastating. Somehow, an infected creature had stowed away on the helicopter and brought the Mi-17 spiraling down into the city.
Hell, it was a miracle that Valmont had survived the impact. It was a fortunate decision and a budget stretch that lead the men of the mercenary unit into separate helicopters, but it was damn well worth it in the end.
Now however; it was a case of ‘Get-the-Fucking-Hell-Out-Of-Here’, which entitled Valmont to acting out in any matter as long as it led to survival. At this present moment in time, he was infiltrating a small apartment building. Why you may ask? According to some definitive signs, a group of soldier-esqe men had entered and never left for reasons unknown. This spelt a possible trap, but the rewards for evading the trap was ammunition, something you cannot have enough of during an apocalyptic infestation.
Slowly sneaking through the halls, Valmont soon began to hear the sounds of feeding. Understanding that this must mean the presence of either an infected or a blood-thirsty crazed survivor, he pressed up against the corner and peered out. At the opposite end of the hall sat an appalling sight, a strange leech creature that seemed to be arguing with itself over the bodies of the dead men he’d killed.
It was almost kind of humorous; a schizophrenic blood sucker who, judging by the outfit he was wearing, was possibly a gamer or a programmer. And well it proved one thing, not all the infected were hypo spastics on life-giving serum. So instead of blowing the leech’s brains clean out the back of its skull, Valmont settled for a quick tranquillizer dart to the forehead to drug the creature into submission. Steadily making ground, he rifled the pockets of all three of the fallen soldiers and made for the exit like a jackrabbit off of Satan’s front lawn.
Now safely outside the building and back onto the rooftops, he peered down at the dog tags he had retrieved. Recognizing the logo of the Cleaners organization, Valmont smirked quietly. Justice had apparently been served, and the rest of these Cleaners would soon get theirs…
(Code)Name: Valmont Foxtrot
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Bio:
History: At birth, Valmont was raised with a sole purpose in mind; to protect his county of origin. His parents forced him into Australian military service the instant he hit the legal age. Deeply resenting this sort of decision, he would make it his mission in life to somehow attain an edge over his parents and ‘get back’ at them. Proficiency at the firing range and receiving a few medals for marksmanship with a variety of firearms, the last action given during his stint in the army directed solely to his cruel and irate sergeant, was a profound and inspiring one finger salute. Sufficiently making his exit, Valmont was recruited into a freelance mercenary force, performing covert ops and espionage missions with military inspired tactics, minus the military methods of discipline and nature. Discarding his previous surname, he chose the code sign Foxtrot (F in the NATO phonetic alphabet) and began to earn a living. Then hell broke loose…
Physical: As an effect from the years of military training and whatnot, Valmont’s body is both in the lean and muscular category (That is to say, 245lbs and 6’3”). Dark chestnut short hair and green eyes make up his natural features. This physique is covered with a pair of khaki camouflage pants, desert camouflage singlet, black combat boots, black biker gloves and an open khaki kutte vest. Emblazoned on the back of the vest is his self-designed logo, an anthromorphic fox in soldier’s battle dress grinning wickedly and brandishing a Ka-bar. Valmont’s own Ka-bar is placed in a holster inside the kutte vest, the little spoken of Armalite MH-12 on the opposite side of the vest, grenades hang off a black leather belt around the waist, an M16 slung over the back of the shoulders and a Heckler & Koch Mark 23 in his right hip holster. (There is also a rarely used M9 tranquillizer pistol on the right hip holster.) Ammunition for these weapons is attached to the inside of the vest in both magazine and belt form. Finally, a pair of silver dog tags hangs on a chain around his neck scribed with his name and personal information.
Personality: After being in the Australian military for such a period of time, he retains the suspicious and judgmental attitude towards strangers. Never quite trusting you until the time when you prove yourself to be an ally. After which he opens up to you, and you discover that he’s actually not all that bad of a person. Quite chummy and confident as all Australians invariably are, he also shows comradeship and tends to follow instructions to the letter, but only those he sees as well processed plans.
Role Play Post Example: It had all happened in a matter of minutes, but the effects of such an occurrence were devastating. Somehow, an infected creature had stowed away on the helicopter and brought the Mi-17 spiraling down into the city.
Hell, it was a miracle that Valmont had survived the impact. It was a fortunate decision and a budget stretch that lead the men of the mercenary unit into separate helicopters, but it was damn well worth it in the end.
Now however; it was a case of ‘Get-the-Fucking-Hell-Out-Of-Here’, which entitled Valmont to acting out in any matter as long as it led to survival. At this present moment in time, he was infiltrating a small apartment building. Why you may ask? According to some definitive signs, a group of soldier-esqe men had entered and never left for reasons unknown. This spelt a possible trap, but the rewards for evading the trap was ammunition, something you cannot have enough of during an apocalyptic infestation.
Slowly sneaking through the halls, Valmont soon began to hear the sounds of feeding. Understanding that this must mean the presence of either an infected or a blood-thirsty crazed survivor, he pressed up against the corner and peered out. At the opposite end of the hall sat an appalling sight, a strange leech creature that seemed to be arguing with itself over the bodies of the dead men he’d killed.
It was almost kind of humorous; a schizophrenic blood sucker who, judging by the outfit he was wearing, was possibly a gamer or a programmer. And well it proved one thing, not all the infected were hypo spastics on life-giving serum. So instead of blowing the leech’s brains clean out the back of its skull, Valmont settled for a quick tranquillizer dart to the forehead to drug the creature into submission. Steadily making ground, he rifled the pockets of all three of the fallen soldiers and made for the exit like a jackrabbit off of Satan’s front lawn.
Now safely outside the building and back onto the rooftops, he peered down at the dog tags he had retrieved. Recognizing the logo of the Cleaners organization, Valmont smirked quietly. Justice had apparently been served, and the rest of these Cleaners would soon get theirs…