[hider=Venser Sitol]
[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/dedc8994-326b-4ba6-b5dd-f9b7d0ead4b3.jpg[/img][/center]
[CENTER][color=a0410d][b]V E N S E R   S I T O L[/b][/color]
[sub][color=a0410d]✧[/color]  [color=fff79a]20[/color]   [color=a0410d]▎[/color]   [color=fff79a]MALE[/color]  [color=a0410d]▎[/color]  [color=fff79a]5' 5"[/color]  [color=a0410d]✧[/color][/sub][/CENTER]

[color=a0410d][u][b]P R E S E N C E[/b][/u][/color]

[sub][color=a0410d][i][b]"H e  W a s  B o r n  U n d e r  T h e  S i g n  S c o r p i o..."[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
[color=fff79a]Venser's body is a scattered array of cremes and reddish browns, resembling the messy palette of an artist that had been busy painting a much more refined person. His frizzy hair erupts from his freckle-coated face with a kind of ambition the rest of his body lacks, his torso and legs skinny and pasty. The fragility and cowardice that his body type denotes, however, is anything but truthful to the observer.[/color]

[sub][color=a0410d][i][b]"H i s  S u n  A n d  M a r s  W e r e  F i l l e d  W i t h  S i m i l a r l y  A g g r e s s i v e  S i g n s..."[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
[color=fff79a]His speech is imposing; his body language confident out of both habit and necessity. Every tightening of his jaw is followed with sharp glances and vocally blunt observations. It is the tempered will of much older men condensed, years of mental endurance and defensiveness piloted by the body of youth. Yet, the distinctive cautiousness and finesse that comes with those years are absent, replaced by a driving will and fiery bravado indicative of those who work outside of stability. Practiced improv, adaptable rigidness; Venser is the business man with the fury to break the system that he profits from. Conflict characterizes the young man, warping his life's trajectory like his Aeon powers shift reality. Both profit from the existence of risk.[/color]

[sub][color=a0410d][i][b]"A n d  T h o u g h  H i s  M o o n  &  N e p t u n e  D i d  T e m p e r  H i m  W i t h  S o f t e r  C o n s t e l l a t i o n s..."[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
[color=fff79a]Yet this shell of channeled impulse protects the vulnerability of a brittle core, one which fears the future it is beginning to inherit, one which doubts the authenticity of others and the reliability of a relationship. Past traumas stunt how far the roots of confidence grow into Venser; the splinters of child-hood trying to reform into an adult, their bonds fated to be weak. A broken man is only as strong as the sum of his intact parts.[/color]

[sub][color=a0410d][i][b]"S c o r p i o  S t i l l   R e s t e d  I n  I t s  R u l i n g  H o u s e;  P l u t o."[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
[color=fff79a]Venser is possessed by the spirit of self reliance; independence and skepticism his implements of subsistence. His ideals are ingrained, cut into the crude granite of his person in choppy, bold letters. But yet, a youthful spark still compels him to dwell on the probability of better times. He is an Icarus unsure of if his wings should be rebuilt.[/color]

[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tg5kB4UcAuA[/youtube][/center]

[color=a0410d][u][b]C H R O N I C L E[/b][/u][/COLOR]

[color=fff79a]	Venser jerked himself awake, the maelstrom of sickly familiar images that had penetrated his dreams during sleep causing sweat to roll down his brow. The front door slammed by his mother, her frail form twisted with an anger only she could exude. His father, prostrate on his bed as he always was, helpless as he called out to her. Venser frozen in the hall-way, bandages in hand, watching this all unfold. They were moments and emotions that impressed an insidious weight unto him. The ginger felt his chest become increasingly heavy, and so did his breathing.

	[color=fdc68a][i]"Ven? What's up?"[/i][/color], said a timid voice in the corner of the bedroom. Venser gave no response other than the subtle rustling of his bed sheets. His mind's eye dwelled on that constant conversation topic; their child was an Aeon. They couldn't let anyone know, they would induct him into the military. Look what the resistance did to his father. His mother could never live with two cripples; she expressed this over and over for as long as she was present.

	[i][color=fdc68a]"Venser!"[/color][/i], Ezi finally cried, his chubby hands rocking his guardian's shoulders back and forth rapidly. Venser finally snapped out of his daze, crude memories retreating from the present and allowing the young man to catch his breath. He looked into the dark, pudgy face of the young Ezi; his brown eyes held an innocent concern that only children could possess. Venser took a series of deep breaths before answering to the kid. [color=f7976a][i]"Nightmares"[/i][/color], he excused, tossing aside his blanket and standing up to turn on the dim, orange light above. With a swift click, the small area was illuminated, Venser and Ezi's cots revealed to be surrounded by the whirring motors and sagging wires of numerous radio tappers and electronic hackers. [color=fdc68a][i]"Again? Ven, you need some medication or something if its getting that bad,"[/i][/color], chimed the mahogany-skinned child, his round head slipping through a light blue T-shirt as he spoke. [color=f7976a][i]"A doctor won't keep this rig running, will it? One problem at a time."[/i][/color], the ginger countered, his long legs stepping into a pair of ragged jeans as he powered up his bulky computer. [color=f7976a][i]"Resistance hasn't been sending shit over the radio, so that doesn't help either,"[/i][/color] Venser continued, beginning to turn on the monitor.

	[color=fdc68a][i]"Heh, I think that's Whiskey 21 out there. Just getting to dawn and he's out here being impatient,"[/i][/color] Ezi remarked, his eyes glancing through the slits of a drawn shade on the room's only window. Venser pushed past Ezi to look out of the window, soon spotting the recognizable form of a waiting, uniformed resistance fighter. [color=f7976a][i]"Those guards are like hungry dogs, always begging for their bribes. Here, take these credits to him, and tell him to fuck off."[/i][/color] Venser commanded, slipping the boy a small electronic chip from his rugged wallet. [color=f7976a][i]"First radio silence and now these increased watch-shifts. This is fucking absurd. Hey! Don't forget the package for Delta 33."[/i][/color] Venser continued to snap, his hands darting from one machine to the next with quick, deliberate motions. Though the surveillance hardware around Venser's house had long since been dismantled, these code names made sure client anonymity was ensured. And it had to be ensured.

	The small Ezi darted down the creaking stairs and out of the house, his rotund body becoming briefly illuminated in soft sunlight before he slammed the door behind him. Venser watched the exchange through the blinds; the guard received the payment, nodded, and quickly left. Ezi flipped the uniformed man the bird when his back was finally turned, and used his other hand to pull a dull grey balaclava over his head. Venser tightened the blinds as he turned away from the window.


[center]The red-head whispered a small prayer to Gaia, just like he remembered his father once doing, and then began to work on siphoning the bribe credits back out of Whiskey 21's bank account.[/center][/color]

[color=a0410d][u][b]M E M O R I E S[/b][/u][/COLOR]

[color=a0410d][b]Ezi Useys[/b][/color]
[color=fff79a]An orphaned child that Venser has taken on to raising, the 12 year old returns the favor of the Aeon's protection with his own help in Venser's "business" (namely running packages and keeping up with electronic maintenance). Though Ezi is one of the only individuals aware of Venser's Aeonic nature, he is not knowledgeable of the red-head's past. All he knows is from what he hears Venser murmur in his occasional night terrors.[/color]

[color=a0410d][b]Jetay Sitol[/b][/color]
[color=fff79a]Venser's absent mother, having left the Aeon and his impaired father for a better life in Eastbourne. Venser's only memories of her come from before he was ten years old, but he has since found her residence in Eastbourne through some net researching. He has not acted on such information, however, finding it satisfying enough to [color=f7976a][i]"let the wench be."[/i][/color][/color]

[color=a0410d][b]Venito Lambardi[/b][/color]
[color=fff79a]A brash man that Venser owes an excessive amount of debt to, mostly due to his family's past of buying expensive medical supplies and, after being orphaned, the red-head's procurement of electronic equipment. Though his temper and pride rivals that of Venser, he is an important asset to the Aeon due to his numerous market contacts. He is also one of the figures that helped to shape Venser's attitude for a life on the streets, preparing him to become committed to illegal activities.[/color]

[color=a0410d][b]Foxtrot 11[/b][/color]
[color=fff79a]The code name of one of Venser's most influential clients; a high ranking official in Dedana's resistance forces which the Aeon feeds a constant stream of sensitive Helston military information to. In the name of the partnership, neither side has divulged their identity to the other; the relationship is confidential and mutually beneficial.[/color]

[color=a0410d][b]Artemis Chase[/b][/color]
[color=fff79a]This woman is another one of Venser’s clients, and somewhat of a casual friend. Artemis, after just fleeing into Helston, contacted the red-head to have him aid in her disappearance. Venser has since kept the ex-soldier hidden from Helston surveillance, tapping into cameras and mapping out minimally-watched city paths so that her likeness will be kept undocumented. He knows only the basic bits about her, and thus has not yet connected the dots to her being Devlon’s infamous “Valkyrie”. Nevertheless, she has gained some of his trust, and he has begun to plan debt-paying jobs for her accordingly.[/color]
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