Name:
Marcus Brenada

Age:
25 Years - 11 Months

Faction:
Earton's Flock

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
It is a very big cliché for a group to have someone who stands out. As though many within the Resistance Fighters are different from one another, Marcus' height clearly demonstrates his originality from the Flock. Standing around 6' 3", Marcus bears Jet-black hair in a ruffled fashion. Though it seems so unstyled and untidy, it actually suits him as a person, looking like a somewhat fashionable look. That's right, you are in the worst of human times and looking good is still a top priority. Body structure, he isn't of the top competitors. Marcus was never a strong person, and never intends to do too much to improve his physical strength. However, for the sort of operations that the Flock commit to, it is pretty clear that Marcus isn't the useless one he is depicted as. Furthermore, having longer legs and a fast leg movement speed adds up to creating a good set of speed, though stamina can sometimes be a problem.

As for attire, he usually wears casual clothing when off-duty. The thing about personnel of the Flock is that they aren't always on duty, 100%, meaning being able to relax and rest with friends and family can be extremely useful. If not a blue-chequered shirt, a leather jacket and some Civilian Combat-trousers, you'll find him in some gear beyond normal. Usually seen wearing facial concealment outfitting, low-profile work is the way to go for himself. Though Low-profile isn't always the way it ends up, keeping his identity safe is a top priority. The armour worn is dangerously complicated, and has proven to be some of the most unique Resistance Fighter kit in the upper-classed districts.



Nationality:
Scottish

Personality:
When mentioning clichés, you'd easily notice that Marcus is not incredibly sociable. That is more to the fact that he is incapable of speaking to people casually through nerves, fear mostly. It can be seen as affecting his overall performance on the battlefield, as stuttering over telecommunications, sometimes shaking often when looking to line up a scan run. He is clearly a very-independent soldier, seeing as he seems to want to spend time alone a lot. He doesn't often complain when he's thrown into conversation, as there's never really any courage within himself to speak. Life is tough on the anxious end, yet he's managed to pull through the years handling whatever he'd been given.

As a Soldier, he isn't too different from his Civilian life. Stuttering has been noted down as an issue, though his skills are proven to be rather useful in the arts of assault that the Flock use when on field. He usually will do whatever he is asked without question, proving himself to be very disciplined. Discipline is key to himself, as he proves his movement and fighting-will to be greater than most soldiers, who are mostly there for just a killing. His reputation within the Resistance Movement is highly important to himself, though there are a few occasions where someone as much as himself have come into extreme disagreements with other Resistance Cells.

Equipment:
Talking equipment, someone as odd as a Flocker is highly equipped to both suit the standards the soldier themselves set, and what their peers and superiors in the Cell set. Attire-wise, as mentioned, is rather advanced. Though it looks very fancy, it works in a rather simple way for those used to the technological supplies. These are only fitted with simple high-grip Combat boots, so that sort of ruins the whole Technological-soldier-Look. In the Flock, there's a special armour type for his pack. Bullet resistance is low, all in addition to upgrading the movement speed and flexibility of the outfit, especially with the unique design that all Flockers are known for. On the back, is usually found a rough, metallic-like pack scrapped from old New-Order heavy troop deployments. Inside, a make-shift parachute or some sort of anti-propulsion material can be found. These aren't the most reliable of things, as most development went into the armour, so these are usually rather dangerous to use. The New-Order have developed this further and have created more advanced models. Usually, a Low-class Helmet mixed with a tight facial coverage cloth keeps his head poorly protected, but well covered for identity assistance. Weapon-wise, he is either seen using a SA-80 or a Smaller MPL-K running as a Primary-Use weapon. Whether it is kitted out with a Sound-Suppressor scavenged from New-Order personnel is very dependent on how the stocks are running or what kind of Operation is being put into play. Running as a Side-arm, a handy Walther P99 Handgun. Works like a charm, acts like a charm. This weapon is never suppressed at any means necessary, as Marcus believes it hinders the performance too much. As the Flock aren't an extremely large Resistance Cell, and they do tend to get carried away with upgrading uniforms, hand-grenades, and other large explosives other Resistance Cells might carry, are not in the grasp of these strange and odd fighters. A knife would be the only other basic equipment, though many other Cells use much sharper and more Killing-based knives.

Skills:
Skills are hard to put forward, seeing as Marcus is only limited to a few. He isn't a super-soldier, which barely any of the Flock are, and can be prone to making mistakes. The most identifiable feature, however, has to be his control. Control sounds instantly like something to do with leading and commanding, when rather it is to do with movement. Climbing up large buildings is something that the Flock are known for doing before attacks begin, and climbing/descending is something Marcus can control very well. It isn't fast-paced Parkour as such might be anticipated for, it is rather slow. Slow means controlled, in Marcus' eyes. Fighting, that's pretty average. He can get shot, he can be over-ran...but he has enough to survive for long enough.

History:
Marcus' history is pretty twisted, especially with the place he is now. Born in a pretty sweet part of the City, there wasn't too much preparation for danger to train the boy for the world and life ahead. At his own very young age, his Parent's would take part in protests all over the group of districts. It had been going on for many years now, and Marcus wanted to understand what his parents were doing. It was at the age of 10, where he followed them into one of their Peaceful-protests. It was only a stroke of luck that this happened to be the second violent protest the group was committing. It was odd, having Marcus stand there in the centre of it all, losing his parents amongst the crowd. That was when the fire broke out. New-Order soldiers tasked with riot control were ordered by higher-authority to end the peaceful protesters as they began to wreck havoc throughout the shopping centre they stood in. It was out of the question, and bullets were flung left, right and centre. In the panic, Marcus couldn't move. He was trapped between scrambling bodies as they began to fall around him. He was unfortunate enough to fall prey to the bullet-storm, being hit in the shoulder. After the gunfire had finished going off, there was very little noise. The New-Order soldiers were busy contemplating their actions, and the silence of the streets as they were evacuated from the fire-fight. The boy crying was heard, and a group of three soldiers moved to check out the body. They thought it'd be someone like a man, or something...but it was too higher-pitched. The bleeding boy was found amongst the pile. Not knowing what exactly they should do, they turned to their Group-Sergeant. The man, quickly identified as Arek, quickly picked up him, ordering for permission for clearance in bringing back injured personnel.

For the next 6 years, Marcus was treated nicely by the New-Order, as he eventually had become a voluntary agent. A Double-agent, as he might've added. He always had the impression that the Resistance Cells were nothing but evil corporations wanting superiority above all, yet he was wrong still. He would move into their cells as a volunteer, helping the New-Order identify their Bases of Operations. In the 6 Years he served as an Agent, Marcus was responsible for the downfall of 17 Different Small-to-medium size gangs and Cells. He wished to continue, when he was unfortunate enough to witness a tragic death. Arek was put up for execution, for resisting an order to shoot a child. When Marcus, being a respected teenager within that detachment force of New-Order operatives, was made to watch the event. A simple bullet to the skull was used.

It turned him, making him feel angered and scared. He ran away overnight, claiming he was going on another Operation. Never-returning, he hoped to never work alongside the New-Order. He was quickly extracted by Earton's Flock, the Cell he was currently working to take down. After explaining over and over about everything that had happened, the Flock decided it was only fair if they let him stay in their protection as a home, seeing as he had not fed the New-Order any information of their whereabouts. This managed to lead to him finding a place training within the Ranks, being fitted with guns and armour. As undescriptive as his life is told, he had finally become a Soldier. Due to his quietness, he received the Nickname 'Canary', later proving his skills to become 'Sparrow-Hawk'.

Other: He still has close-ties with the New-Order, which can make him very hard to trust. The Detachment have him on a priority-list for defectors, hoping to bring him to justice. His sister, Amanda, is a New-Order medical trooper, and his Father now rumoured to have signed up as an Officer, after apparently faking his death at the Riot.

Faction Name:
Earton's Flock [Informally known as The Flock, or Sky-E]

Allegiance:
Resistance Cell - Mainly independent, and rarely work alongside other Cells.

Strength:
231 Soldiers - 4 Commanders

Aim/Objectives:
To cripple the New-Order by any way possible, even with extreme measures.

History: Formed at least 43 Years ago, the Flock are quite old. They have never really been too large, mainly as they are very tight-on recruitment. The operative has to be chosen, not recruited. At first, they started as a Sniper-Detachment for other Resistance Cells, providing up-high support for those down below. As time progressed, other ways of 'Souring the Skies' were found. As mysterious and suicidal as it sounds, the new-tech armour that was developed off of the New-Order can be found with a capability of flight. It isn't to do with Jet-pack fantasies, just an Old method that the Before-People used. Wingsuiting. Dangerous and suicidal, in other words, operatives would be known for climbing large-scale towers and pylons to glide down onto targets, slowing themselves down with makeshift parachutes known to sometimes fail upon deployment. This being said, it sometimes leads to the life-expectancy of a Freedom Fighter to be a Year max, though those lucky enough to make it past 4 Years are highly congratulated with Extreme Operations.

Soldiers work in small Collections. A collection is a small HQ where about 10-15 Operatives are on duty. They work, live and survive here. Each and every Operative within a Collection is never allowed to know the Location of their main Base of Operations, as many are prone to capture after their dangerous stunts. It reduces hugely the chance of detection and the shut-down of the group, making them one of the most incognito Cells among the smaller type. With zipliners being set up as a regular duty and climbing as part of a weekly exercise/Operational use those inside are considered to be the most suicidal of people, despite their good nature. Many of the Operations within the world are very exclusive, and the only well-known Operation was the destruction of a High-Valued target bombed on top of a low-tower. Four of those inside were shot in the operation, but they succeeded in great destruction for the building, luckily only harming New-Order operatives. Their reputatiton can be low, but they can get the job done, unless they crash...Then they are ultimately fucked. Operatives can be clearly found with nicknames of birds, seeing as Earton, a unidentified nickname for the Leader, whom no one has actually met.