Here,s my motherfucking, mammal to join this channel. Just going to put this portrait of my metal stake here, in case it gives anyone else spectrum spectables or they want to dance with this designer. [hider] [center] Name: Fred Feild Nickname/Title/Alias(Optional): Gender: Male Age: 30 Appearance: Freddy is the kind of the person that despite standing at 6 foot always looks like he is shrinking down. Bravery slides off his slouched posture and pale face. A vague hint of masculine is implied in the genetics of his bonestructure, but dosen't carry over his bright green and wide eyes, on the verge of flinching. His left eye is hidden in a black clam of a bruise and several smaller purple and blue spots litter his head, neck and chest. His lip has been busted and his nose is bandaged. His oiled brown hair refuses to stay tidy despite all clear efforts. A vague speckl of a beard litters his face. Home Country: America Personality: "That's one hell of a mid life crisis..." Risky, impulsive, emotional and doubtful. Fred is willing to take it all and risk it all when pushed against the wall, but aware enough to know that he is acting like a suicidal madman. A coin flip of confidence Fred find it hard to truly dedicate to anything that isn't an impulse decision. Driven by what he dosen't want than what he does, he is wishy washy about the true ends of his mean other than to make some sort of great spiritual escape. Despite all this, his shifts between sanity cause him to have clusters of abstract ideas about life. To the unempathetic it can be easy to confuse his emotional anxiety with a nervous thinker. History: Grew up in nowhere important, did nothing really interesting in his youth, not even attend parties or get trouble. Spent the next years following a very tame career in a IT tech support where he worked for the next 10 years. He got married at 22 and divorced at 28 when he came home to find his wife with another man. On his 30th birthday at the office where no one was really listening to him talk at the office "party"-aka, they had party hats and a cake- years of repression came in and he smashed the cake with his fist and broke the plate under and left. Saving up a 10% of his earnings every month, he used that and a generous loan from a shark with deadly friends to buy a mech when hearing of the tournament. Later on, as the date approached the money was called in early and the sharks managed to dismantle some of his mech-and trash his house, taking all his valuable- while beating him up for non-payment. Fred managed to escape narrow by getting in his still functional mech and moved until the tournament started. His training consist almost entirely of virtual simulations. Theme Song:[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FdMQVYJcgnk[/youtube] Name: Escape Plan Appearance: A bipedal machine that is made up of more rust than metal. The X-2023: Mass produced for the purpose of potential war decades ago before being simply out done by the latest tech, most of these were bought up from poorer countries...most. Some, make it to junkers. Escape Plan is missing most of its outer armor which, if were still attached would make it a large mech by most modern, sleeker models standards. Without it though, it appears like a skeletial frame wearing a strapped on chest guard that ridges out like an index finger with twin tubes leading out of it. The back has 4 fat, cylinder thrusters that spin rapidly by defualt until mech shut down. It's arm brace form a pair of boxes smitten by old war wounds and rust. It's cynlinder head has the left side of it patched over with hasty armor to conceal the missing eye and several important functions. It's remaining eye is behind a cage system. A small antenna pekes out the top of the head. It's left arm is gone, completely gone. It's simply been dismantled by his debt seekers. Two small thrusters peak out of the hips on each side. It feat are just a big pair of flat squares. A humm of energy can be seen with twisting bits and pieces behind the frame at his sides and under its arm pits. The armor for its joints at its eblows, knees and ankle is missing. Height: 200m Weight: Middle/heavy Weapons: Pheonix 1010 A large single handed gun designed for the purpose of taking down super large aircrafts. It values immense destructive power, distance, accrucacy and projectile speed over alls. Despite its age the Phoenix 1010 is seen as a classical mech gun that still has trouble meeting real competition even by brand new weaponry. Its flaws is that it sacrefices weight, reload speed and laughably slow round per second rate. It's also ugly. A one handed bazooker that someone slapped a drum revolver at the back and a long, noodle thin nose at the front. It launches special, high speed, explosives shells with a naplam mix designed to overheat its target if it can't destroy it. The fires are legendary hard to put out without water and survive in EXTREME winds and high speed conditions. Breaker: A blade that is equiped as a back up weapon on his hip. Held like a knuckle duster it smashes forth a painful up close laster blast used to shred tanks apart and for military construction. It has pathetic damage at anything beyond insane close range though. Additional Equipment: Cycler: Effectively a special piece of hardware that helps boosts the thruster potential of his outdated mech. It makes his movements hard to keep a track off, able to cross distances that should normally be impossible for his mech. The downside is that it is capable of making his thrusters shut down by a fail safe trigger or jam. [/center] [/hider]