[hider=James Ramsey] [h1]AGENT DOSSIER[/h1] [indent][indent][indent][img]https://d2m3klzcmjgreb.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/aidan-turner-656x357.jpg[/img][/indent][/indent][/indent][b]Name:[/b] James Ramsey [b]Age:[/b]22 [b]Gender:[/b]Male [b]Entity:[/b]Anomalous [b]Nature of Expression:[/b] [i]Cursed[/i] James is to be considered a 'cursed' individual. In particular, his speech. James is able to force another living being, as long as he speaks their language, to take a certain action by 'commanding' them to do so. However, the gravity of his words is to be considered when calculating their repercussions. For example, if he was to tell another individual to 'stop', the effect on himself would amount to minor fatigue. If he was to tell another individual to 'die', the repercussion could potentially render him permanently comatose or dead as well. The upper limits of collateral damage has not been fully determined. Out of an abundance of caution, James communicates by typing, writing, drawing or other similar means. However, if he exerts himself, his 'curse' passes onto other mediums of communication as well, such as his writing or drawings. Using his anomalous power this way always causes more collateral damage to himself, and thus he does not often choose this approach. Note: Efficacy of his 'curses' various and depends on their intended target. Stopping something like a train or a bullet is near impossible, for example. [b]Containment:[/b] [i]The Bureau has procedures to alleviate the dangers of anomalies. What procedures are you expected to follow for containment? (NOTE: complete control of anomalies is impractical given the irregular nature of these. Therefore the following is considered:[/i] -Limited speaking to a bare minimum, with simple vocabulary, usually 'yes' or 'no'. -Termination is permitted, in the event he turns rogue. [b]Risks:[/b] [i]Degree of your control? Does it react violently with certain conditions? There are dangers to all anomalies. List your dangers.[/i] -Each 'curse' have their own 'weight'. Over-exertion will most certainly lead to major injury or death. [b]Test Scores:[/b] Strength: 4/10 Intelligence: 8/10 Psychology: 7/10 (Degree of resilience to anomalous effects. If you are anomalous you will naturally score lower here) [b]Remarkable Skills:[/b] [i]James is actually quite a marksman. He gained this skill from his younger, more reckless days.[/i] [b]Personality:[/b] [i]James is a man of the people. Despite his odd appearance, having to constantly cover the lower part of his face, he is actually quite nice. He generally will keep to himself, preferring to drown himself in poetry....or firearms...[/i] [b]Service Record:[/b] [i]James, as he will introduce himself to anyone, was a child born in the slums of Philadelphia. His parents were lowly merchants of mundane items, the kind that everyone already has but have to repurchase from time to time. Every from an young age, James has shown himself to be quite the tinkerer. Picking up some of his parent's wares and improving upon them to fetch them a better price. Though they lived in the slums, they were never impoverished. Around the age of 12, James started getting involved with some of the other children in his neighborhood. Getting his hands on his first firearm at that age, James discovered that he was much better than his peers at its usage, hitting target after target, no matter the distance, with ease.... This continued for a few years, while his family business slowly declined. Debt started piling up, and while James did what he could to tinker with their inventory, the demand simply was not there. Debtor came night and day to collect, often resorting to violence. Many times James dashed to his room, reaching for his chest where he kept his pistol. His mother followed him, and forbade him from doing what he was planning on doing, claiming that violence is never the answer... Coming home from school one day, at age 15, he discovered that his father was dead, and mother missing. All that was left was a note, stating that if he did not pay off their debt of two hundred thousand dollars within a week, his mother would be killed as his father was. Scared, angry, confused, he reached for his pistol, and found the same boys he hung out with years prior. Some of these boys never returned to regular life, instead choose the dark underworld to reside. Based on their past friendship and knowledge of what James can do with a simple pistol, they offered a 'test' of sorts. A quick job, killing off some business mogul that is impinging on his friend's business. The return was a measly fifty thousand dollars, a farcry from what he needed to save his mother. However, James knew he had to start somewhere so he went with it. With this job, his old friend opened up the war chest and offered him any and all weapons James would like to use. Considering getting up close and personal with a business mogul, who most likely has a personal protection detail at all times, was a bad idea, James found a rifle that felt right in his hands, took a few practice shots in the range, and went out to carry out his mission.... Staking out on a roof top, adjacent to the bar the business mogul frequently visits, James wiped away the sweat on his forehead. Or was it rain? He couldn't remember. Under the cover of night, with nothing but the dim street lamp and moon guiding his sight, James waited. Four hours after he found his position on that roof top, he saw his target emerge from the doors. He counted 4 body guards, one in each direction of the businessman. Taking a deep breath, he knew as soon as he fired on the businessman, he would be under fire from the body guards. He decided to take out his target first, then in rapid succession, fire clockwise and take out the body guards. He reached forward to twist on his silencer, making sure it was secure, he closed his left eye and looked down the sights with his right. His target about 500 meters away. With a slight squeeze, and a muffle pop, he saw that his main target had fallen to the ground, blood spurting from the hole James had just made. Four more pops. Four more dead bodies. Gulping, James was surprisingly calm about all of it. He tucked the rifle into its bag and climbed off the roof, walking away as if nothing had happened in the dark of night... The next job was substantially more lucrative, at one hundred and thirty five thousand dollars. A local politician was having trouble with a rival. When the usual dirty tactics did not work, she grew restless. Turning to the criminal underworld, she has tasked someone to put her rival down, for good. There would be a lot more heat on this job, and heavier implications, and thus the payout was much larger. James knew he could do it. But this is cutting it quite close to the deadline, as he would have to finish this job, and then immediately finish another one to come up with the entire sum of two hundred thousand dollars. James took the job, taking a gamble that he will be able to turnaround and finish one last job after this.... Kneeling in an empty room roughly 2 blocks from where his target should be, James steadied his hands, holding onto his weapon of choice for this job the Barrett MRAD. Looking down the scope, he lined up where approximately the politician would stand on the podium as he delivered his speech. Quickly checking around, James assumed a squad of personal protection detail, probably 5 to 8. Thats more than he can take care of quickly, so James devised an escape route that would lead him directly into the crowd that is going to be moving away from the crime scene. Thirty minutes passes. No sign of the speaker. James nervously checks his watch. He now only has 4 hours to complete this task plus another one. He reaches for his cell phone and call his old friend, lining up his next target while he scans through the scope for his current target. Even if the speaker does not make it all the way up to the podium, as long as he has a clean shot, James is taking it and moving on immediately to his next target. Another hour passes, no signs of the speaker. The crowd that was gathered in now starting to slowly disperse.... One more hour passes. The crowd, like James' hopes, have all but gone now... He reaches for his phone and calls the debtor. He told them he has the money and can meet them. The debtor, elated, told James a location and James replied that he needs a few hours to get there. After some negotiation, the debtor agreed to meet James in 3 hours time. As soon as he hangs up, James calls his old friend and told him to get the payments ready, as he is going to need it immediately upon completion of the jobs. Finally, the speaker makes his way to the podium, and the crowd quickly gathers again. Drawing in a deep breath, James lets loose. One bullet, one man dead. On to the next he went. Picking up two semi-automatic rifles, his next target was a mob boss. His location would be, in all places, a bathhouse. Shaking his head, James moved as quickly as he could while being discreet. Just as he was about to step into the bathhouse and unleash a hail of bullets, he gets a phone call. He answers. On the other end was his mother. She said a few words to him, but was cut off. A man with a familiar voice came on the phone. "Times up bud" Thats all that was said and the phone went dead. Panicking, James turned, and was about to take off running. However, he was met with everyone that was in that bathhouse, ready to ambush him. Bud His old friend calls him that. Things are starting clear up for him now. Panic slowly turned into rage. One man approached him with a pistol. In his seething rage, James barely turn to face the man and fired three rounds from one of his rifles. The man that approached him dropped dead. His head had three holes. One in each eye and one in the middle of his eyebrows. The rest of the men tried to swarm him, all 14 of them. Slinging on rifle over his shoulder, James opened fire. It was raining again. It seems to have become synonymous with death for James. When the first rifle ran out of bullets, James did not even bother to reload. He threw it at a man trying to attack him so hard that the empty rifle staked the man to a telephone pole. By the end, everyone near him was dead, including the mob boss he thought he had to kill... Hellbent on revenge, James took whatever money he had and started accruing gear. His old friend was friend no more, but a debtee to him. He was going to hunt him down no matter where he is.... His anomalous quality surfaced around the same time. Was it the rage? The sadness? He did not know. At first, he spoke to those he needed to speak to normally, carrying on conversation as it normally would be carried. Occasionally, when he told someone to 'stop', it seemed like the person quite literally stopped dead in their tracks and did not move. This confused James. He often questioned this and asked "Why are you just standing there? Go on." Then, as if they were released from some sort of invisible shackles, the person started moving again, not knowing what ha happened as well. Given the warpath he was on, he naturally stayed away from prying eyes and kept an extremely low profile. The fact that the Bureau was able to find him was surprising. James thought he had covered his tracks, and remained anonymous. Nevertheless, he was still tracked down and taken in, where his full anomalous quality was discovered, studied, and categorized. [/i] [/hider] Just had a rush of inspiration and thus putting this up. Review when you can, no rush.