Utterly Mad

FUCKIN' RESERVE, MAN.

2014 flashbacks ;-;

{Name:}Frederick Kagame
{Affiliation:} Militia
{Age:}25
{Appearance:}Tall, but lightly built. Shaved head, black as night. Has a thuggish look that conceals his skill and intelligence. Not a big talker.
{Background:}Born into the AM, coming from a long line of high-ranking Militia members. Has spent most of his life following his elders around, and is very comfortable around both weapons and tech. Has also spent much of his life watching the political interaction between the AM and UN, and isn't a huge fan of the "one world government" concept.

---

{Weapon:}The trusty Burner-47
{Armor:}Light ballistic vest
{Inventory:}Cigarettes, lighter, aviators, 2x soy rations with "meat" flavor packets.
{Biomods:}[Chimera Genome] [Cat Eyes] [Muscular Regeneration]

---

[You have 20 points to spend in each, use them wisely]
{Accuracy: 8}
{Strength: 4}
{Intellect: 7}
{Witt: 1}
{Skills:}

[Muscular Regeneration] = Taken from the genes of a lizard, this biomod allows much quicker healing of wounds, and makes potentially lethal wounds easier to repair. Also keeps you from being sore after a day of hard exercise!

^ Adam Jensen here is a-okay

{Name: Collin Kagoslov}
{Affiliation: Militia}
{Age: 24}
{Appearance: Short dark brown hair, 5'8, A little underweight}
{Background: (Too lazy xP)}

---

{Weapon: Am I allowed to make a custom weapon? If so a Combustion MAG-7, if not a Zapper.}
{Armor: Light all-purpose vest (Small resistances to ballistic and energy-like rounds) }
{Inventory: [x2 Soy Rations with Swedish meatball flavor packet] [A pack of strawberry gum] [A photo of his girlfriend]}
{Biomods: [Chimera Genome] [Cheetah Legs (Can outrun any human (About 120kmh), And outjump them (4.5m))] [Hummingbird Wings (Allows him to fly (55kmh), Although it increases his metabolism by tenfold and he can only fly for 10 minutes at an altitude of 50 meters)]}

---

[You have 20 points to spend in each, use them wisely]
{Accuracy: 4}
{Strength: 1}
{Intellect: 4}
{Witt: 10}
{Skills:}

[[I'll just drop in anyone who joins in.]]

Peace Keepers

You've been sitting in this safehouse for the past few days with your handlers for this op. The safehouse itself is a converted old warehouse that used to store scrapped bots that have now been pushed to the side or are now hanging from the ceiling on meathooks doubling as a chandelier, since the IT guy figured out how to turn on the lights on the few systems they had.

The dust particles dance around the interior like snow, and the hazy light from the sunlight pouring in through the cracks outside give the place a distinct brown and orange tint over everything.

In the center of this building is the 'command center' a few desks arranged in a U-shape with all sorts of technology and tools carelessly arranged on them. You can see the IT guy fiddling with one of the routers they have set up while talking to the head of this operation. Lieutenant Carter.

"-ulled their file from the databanks, one of them has literally no history on him and essentially a cheetah with wings. The other comes from a long line of AM officials, not really much a big fan of the new "Unified World" that we have nowadays.", Carter says looking a datapad, scrolling downwards on the screen with his finger. He sets it down and leans his back on the table across from where the IT was working.

"Well that's not really reassuring. I don't see why we couldn't just send in these guys on their own and let them figure it out.", flipping up the antenna on the router he checks the lights to still see them blinking like strobes in a nightclub. He curses under his breath and he goes back to tinkering with its innards.

Carter cuts his head around the room and then leans in closer to the IT guy, "Well we actually could," He mutters. "The only reason we even work with the militia at all is because-"


African Militia

"I don't care how fast you can run, you need to rest before we get there, you run all the way there you'll be exhausted, thirsty, and great fodder for any thugs that see yet another mutie sprinting into their turf.", your driver states as he fights to maintain control over the steering wheel. You've been traveling across the plains since 3AM in a 4-seater jeep that doesn't have seatbelts, and can only pick up AM radio. Along with being pelted in the face with mud, sand, dust, and the wind itself it hasn't been much of a smooth trip to get to this damned place.

The scenery is still nice though, bright blue African skies even after all this time haven't been tainted with smog of any sort, and the wilderness is still mostly intact due to recent government action to preserve what little nature still exists in the world. Sadly it didn't start getting enforced all too much until a few months ago, people in the Sahara (now a giant city of cobbled-together metal houses) are getting forcibly removed and relocated offworld to live in the Mars colonies.

"We'll be arriving there in just a moment, we'll be coming up through what used to be called Faqar street ironic seeing that the whole place is just one giant slum. It used to be ruled by some kids that thought they could hustle everyone on the street for money, get a cut from the shopkeepers and such. Lasted for about a year or two until the AM caught wind and quickly shut it down, turns out that they were all bark and no bite. Heh-hahaha!" In the distance you can see the giant city of rust and filth in the distance, you can also smell it from here too. You're supposed to meet up with your UN contacts at an old scrap warehouse, the building has been tagged with bright blue spray paint. The tag itself is a circle with two lines going through the middle.

Your driver begins to slow down as you enter into the shanty proper, a few kids run by kicking a soccer ball down the street, a man is carrying a huge back of scrap parts out of his house and to the merchant down the block, shouting, crying, and chattering drowns out the sound of the engine. "Feel free to hop out anytime you like, I know a bar down a few streets down, its where I'm gonna be until you're done here.", your driver says as he lays down on his horn to clear a path through a crowd of watching pedestrians.

It was at moment Duncan walked briskly into the room with his helmet under one of his arms. Upon seeing the Lieutenant, he stops his brisk pace toward the door and gives a brief salute. He would then head out of the building out of the back entrance (a back alleyway that from the outside appeared to be having construction done). Afterwards he would stand near the front of the building, his arms crossed and his back against the wall while he waited for the rest of the agents.

{Name: Jamie O'Riley}
{Affiliation: Peace_Keeper}
{Age 21}
{Appearance: 6'5 male with a dense build, dark brown thick curly hair. Grey-ish blue eyes.}
{Background: (insert words here when I can think of something}

---

{Weapon: Remington 870v2}
{Armor: a ballistic vest over a carbon fiber turtleneck sweater}
{Inventory: [x2 Soy Rations with generic fruit flavored packets]}
{Augments: [Standard Military Implants] [Data Spike] [Hand Prosthesis]} [Choose 2]

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[You have 20 points to spend in each, use them wisely]
{Accuracy: 4}
{Strength: 5}
{Intellect: 6}
{Witt: 6}
{Skills:}

Spoiler: Jamie's Hand Prosthesis (hover to show)

They're a set of cybernetic hands that allow him to hack using his interface from a farther distance, but it takes longer.