The snake woman mentioned something about reading her mind. In that moment of thought, before Elithar could ask about that comment, he felt a sharp pain in his ribs. Strange, he didn't know he was injured there...
Taking several tumbles, he tried to brace himself and spring to his feet. But his movement was immediately restricted. The person was good. Rapid, lithe movements. It couldn't have come from the snake woman, not with how he had her pinned. It was her companion. The feline one. Minerva, it seems. Her scent was unfamiliar to him. Yet it was tinged with several other scents. Perhaps it's just the market and all the goings on that is affecting him. Doesn't matter in this moment. He was held in a choke hold, with a sharp claw near his cheeks.
"Aye. I'd rather not be ugly for the rest of my life. Thank you for the compliment of my handsomeness in the moment. Please release me. It's hard to answer a question about what I'm looking for in this state." Elithar finished his sentence with a few feigned coughs, drawing more attention to the trio than before. "What about this. You let me go. We grab a pint at the Squid, and I'll answer your questions? Win-win, right?" Elithar proposed the alternate, hoping to persuade both the Yuan-Ti and Minerva to disengage in whatever hostilities before he can make his next move...
"Wha- No. Reaching for her.... Goodness no." Elithar squeezed out. To be honest, he hasn't been thoroughly bested in single 'combat' like this in a while. To have another person kneel on your sternum is certainly an uncomfortable position. What is more, and perhaps most, concerning is the slightly acrid scent he is picking up from the dagger. Poison. Of what kind he could not be sure. But, whatever it is, should the blade slip even just a little, could be deadly.
Elithar, in the small moments between needing to answer the woman from Yuan-Ti and it becoming more awkward, thought about his options. His hands have been restricted. Attempting to bucking the slender woman off of him is certainly possible but the blade makes that risky. Is he flexible enough to coil up and at least swipe the arm holding the blade away from his throat? Perhaps, but this was risky too. Elithar worked with a few different scenarios, and decided that he was going to hip-thrust her so she is lifted off of him slightly, then attempt to pull his arms free. If he was able to pull his arms free, he is using one arm to bump the dagger out of the woman's hand and wrapping his other arm around the woman's collar bone area to force her to the ground...
Without offering a verbal response to the Yuan-Ti woman's flirtatious question, Elithar started moving. First, he drove both feet into the ground, giving himself as steady of a base as he can. Then, he gave her probably the best thrust of his life. He really put his all into it. As soon as her knee lifted from his sternum, he pulled his arm down as hard as he could, spreading his arms apart slightly as to not accidentally bump into the poisoned blade. With his arms freed, he used his left hand to smack the butt of the dagger and pushed it from her hands. That is both threats on his life taken care of. Then, as his "coup de grâce", he grabbed on to her left shoulder with his right hand and sat up with all the force he could muster in that moment. His momentum carried him forward, causing her to fall onto her back. Continuing his movement, he ended up straddling her, with her left arm pinned to the ground with his right and her left arm secured under his left knee.
Sure, he can't draw his weapon in such a position, but at least she isn't pushing a dagger to his throat.
"Snake woman. I may be a stray but I can assure you I am no slouch. As for the thorough, private inspection, I'm in if you are. Hm?"
It seems Corin did not appreciate his little...prank, as Corin completely took his leave from Elithar's side. That's fine. Elithar preferred to explore alone anyways, at least for now.
Port Verge. A bustling market with a variety of shops. And people. With such a gathering, there are sure to be gossip. Perhaps even useful information on where he can find the next exotic metal to attempt to forge into a blade. Elithar instinctively touched the weird gem piece that's now embedded where his trachea met the top of his sternum bone and adjusted the collar of his shirt to cover both the gem and the slight scarring that it left on his skin. Perhaps he can find a way to dig that out too. He believed that it is not supposed to be where it current is.
Back to what he was presently looking at. The shops around the port. People moving about, cussing, discussing, cutting deals. Elithar would rather just...not have to be in a crowd but such is his current circumstances. He offered himself a small chuckle as he looked to the skies and saw a jet black bird, circling and hovering.
"Ruvan. Help me out here. He said barely above a whisper. The bird he previously spotted in the sky beat it's wings a few times before flying off. Elithar then simply carried on with what he had planned on doing. Exploring shops, picking up juicy chatter, and perhaps some hot stew.
Nothing like hot stew after falling several thousand feet from an airship.
As Elithar started to approach what looked, and smelled, like a food stall, a familiar sound caught his attention. Rhythmic, steady, not the most precise but serviceable. There is a blacksmith among the rabble. A decent one at that. His stomach suddenly forgot the hunger it felt previously as he pivoted slightly towards the blacksmith shop.
The shop owner was busy hammering out a piece of what looked like standard iron. Elithar took a few looks of the wares the shop has to offer. Overall pretty standard, but it can be seen that whoever made these put their heart and soul into it. A shame that this is the extent of the maker's abilities. "Smith! Try tempering the steel in something other than water. Put some old rusted pieces of steel that you treat as scrap and some vinegar into the water. Make the water iron-rich. See if that helps your water harden your wares... Elithar called out. The shop owner shot him a look that essentially told him to fuck off before returning to hammering out an steel ingot. Elithar sighed and drew one of his short blades. Deftly, he carved the symbol of Jaeldira Taeri onto the table, just as a sign of how he is.
Turning away from the stall, he decided to follow his baser instincts and approach the food stall, The Salty Squid Skillet it is apparently called. Of course even the name is nautical themed. As he approached, he spotted a woman of Yuan-Ti origins accompanied by a female of...feline origin? Just what is going on... Judging by the direction the pair was walking from, they had just comes from the curios store of the port, Odds and Ends. Judging by how the feline-one was cloaked, this pair had some money...
Elithar pulled whatever cloth he could from his shirt over his head and turned it into a makeshift hood as he crooned his back, walking towards the pair. He purposely put a hobble in his step and slowed his movements. Intentionally, he walked directly between the pair, groaning and moaning as he did so.
As soon as he was close enough, just slightly behind the pair, he reached his left hand out, while his right tugged his 'hood' lower still. The woman from Yuan-Ti was his primary mark, and her coin purse was his target...
"Vikki, wake up." "Yes sir." "Open up Project December." "Serial Number Five Thousand and One. Sub-header HLE" "More secret projects, sir?" "You know it. Establish link to McCarthy Compound." "Encrypted link established." "Sort this onto my personal drive." "Yes sir." "Ok. Give me an exploded view, side-by-side with editor."
/A holographic, dissected view of a cylindrical object gave the dimly lit room a little more light and paints Quinn's already-pale face an odd shade of teal. A small capsule-sized object gave off soft red pulses of red light on Quinn's desk, an indication that the object is working as intended. Quinn checks his beat-up, but still expensive, wristwatch, noting the time. /
"Did we ever decide on a metal compound to use?" "Last note on metal compound states 'Tungsten carbide with graphene inlays. Copper-Graphene compound used for electrical wiring components with carbon-ceramic compound as heat shield and tri-sillica as insulation." "Mmmm..."
/Quinn's hands weaved in and out of the holographic image, moving bits and pieces of the illustration around as if he was playing with a Lego set. /
"Sub gold for copper for wiring components. Test viability." "Yes sir." "Compound viable. Expensive. But viable." "Does it increase efficiency?" "Yes. By fifteen percent. Cost-Efficiency coefficient under optimal threshold." "Hmm. Log that, switch back to copper for the time being." "Yes sir." "Ok. Fabricate scaled down model. Arrange transport to test site twelve." "Yes sir. Approximate time to completion is fifteen hours." "Good. Close current file and open file for Compound B Five One Five." "File closed and encrypted. File opened." "Ok. Show graphic chemical model." "Projection shown. Sir, may I remind you, it is time." "Mmm. Thank you."
/Quinn reached into his zipped hoodie pocket and brought out a small pill case. He pressed his thumb to the pill case and it gave his thumb a microscopic, almost undetectable, prick before offering a soft click. In it, Quinn took out two tablets. One was an unnatural blue and the other was a deep crimson. Quinn popped both into his mouth and washed them down with a small gulp of water. /
"Ok. What was the efficiency ratings the last time we looked at this?" "Burn rate was seventy percent. Carbon production was five percent over acceptable parameters. Weight ratio was sixty to one." "Tsk. Have we tried to sub out the liquid oxygen for...lets say nitromethane and it's various compounds?" "Yes. Last notes on reagent composition states 'Shit is too explosive. Disregard. Switch back.' " "Heh. Fair enough. Ok. What if we paired the micro arc-loop to provide stable energy while the liquid oxygen provides initial thrust?" "Testing viability." "Combination is viable. Burn rate remains at seventy percent. Carbon production is now within acceptable parameter. Weight ratio is fifty five to one." "Mmm... Thrust production?" "Initial thrust remains stable with liquid oxygen as first-stage thrust producer. Ongoing thrust and flight properties reduced by eight percent. Peak speed can be considered hyper-sonic. Friction heat increased by zero point zero three percent." "Mmm... Ok. Formulate and send to test site twelve as well." "Yes sir. Completion time is eight hours." "Ok. Close project and encrypt." "Yes sir." "Alright. Meeting time I guess. Vikki, log off and enable mobile." "Yes sir."
/The screen Quinn had been staring at, and the holographic projector, both turned off. The room returned to a dimly lit state with warm lighting. Quinn adjusted his wristwatch, worn on his left wrist, and tapped the very standard looking mass produced health tracker band on his right wrist. The health wearable showed a dash of blue light before displaying the words "Hello Sir. Mobile enabled. Encryption established." Quinn then rolled his sleeves down, covering both items on his wrists. Grabbing his thermos filled with now-somewhat stale but still warm coffee, Quinn stepped out of his quiet little workroom and headed to the scheduled meeting.
It would seem like he was second to arrive, next to Reforge. As he entered the room, he would just give the other hero a small nod as he took his seat, leaning back like a student going to class. The room literally felt like one of those subliminal space horror games. Fluorescent lighting, off-beige color scheme. Coffee that probably was brewed fresh but then stored in a office carafe pump thing that has a slick patch of slime at the bottom because no one ever cared to actually clean it. Even the air was slightly stale. Quinn sighed as he leaned back in his seat, causing his chair to squeak slightly. Just great. /
NAME: Quinn McCarthy CODENAME: "Quartermaster"/"Q" or "Nine" AGE: 25 HEIGHT: 5'8"/8'5" BIRTHPLACE: Cascadia, Upper West Side (Or whichever is the 'rich neighborhood') VIBE: Nerd with a serious case of delusion of grandeur, believe himself to be a sort of Knight of the Round Table/Untamed Rage Monster DETAIL: A lanky, unassuming 'welllll ackually' male / Red-skinned, muscled beyond what is normally possible, gnashing teeth...
CONTRACT: Enlisted for his technical/chemical expertise and genius-level intellect |STATUS: Active Liability
POWER & LIABILITY
ABILITIES: As Quartermaster, Quinn possesses next to no physical combat capabilities. What he lacks, he makes up with his intellectual prowess. Able to analyze a situation and craft a near bullet-proof plan. He is also very adept with working with chemicals, for obvious reasons... As Nine, however, things are completely opposite. He becomes what can only be described as a near mindless monster of destruction. He is nearly uncontrollable, causing damage regardless of friend or foe.
LIABILITY: As Quartermaster, Quinn suffers from delusion of grandeur. He believes, wholeheartedly, that he is a descendant, of the mythical King Arthur, and is thus a member of the Knights of the Round Table. He holds himself in such a regard that he will come off as looking down upon others. While King Arthur was noble and behaved as such, Quinn is not and he will use his intellect to achieve his goals, however nefarious they may be. As Nine, he is destruction made 'flesh'. Hard to contain, even harder to control. Currently, the only effective method of containment is either through prevention or have Moxie /Redacted/
ASSET CAPACITY
STAT|VALUE|RATIONALE
Combat|1 As Quartermaster / 4 as Nine|Quinn simple cannot fight. To the point that he might hurt himself trying to throw a punch. As Nine, this is about all it can do. Destroy.
Vigor|2 as Quartermaster / 4 as Nine |Quinn is not exactly feeble. He isn't exactly in good shape either. He just... is. As Nine, it's muscles have muscles on top of their muscles. Tougher than nails, nigh impervious to most types of damage.
Mobility|3 as Quartermaster / 3 as Nine|Quinn isn't exactly fast, or stealthy. He just knows how to get out of dodge. Years of avoiding bullies. For Nine, using it's immeasurable muscular strength, it is able to move it's massive frame at a surprising speed. Next to no stealth to speak of, however.
Charisma|3 as Quartermaster / ? as Nine|Quinn has had to convince his bullies to stop picking on him, and to not take all of his lunch money. But, he just isn't the guy to cold-approach someone in a bar and hold a conversation. As for Nine. What is charisma to a rage monster?
Intellect|4 as Quartermaster / 1 as Nine|This is where Quinn shine. There is hardly a program he can't solve, a chemical equation he cannot figure out, a code he can't crack. Nine doesn't think. It just smashes.
MECHANICS & STATUS
DESIGNATED ROLE: As Quartermaster, team strategist, chemist and 'brains'. As Nine, we don't really know...
SIGNATURE TACTIC/MANEUVER: Quinn will look to always stay behind, in mission control, wherever that might be. Be it a mobile command center, a cafe nearby with his laptop, or someplace similar. You do not want him in the frontlines anyways. Nine does not recognize where it physically is. It does not matter to it. It simply wants to smash and destroy.
EMOTIONAL STABILITY RATING (1-5): As Quinn, a 5 if he is properly medicated. A 1 if he isn't. As Nine, 1. Zero if possible.
HISTORY & DESCRIPTION
PERSONALITY: Due to his delusion of grandeur, Quinn thinks himself above others. He sees himself as a Knight of the Round Table and that his actions are noble. Of course, they may be noble from time to time. But, Quinn is not above using his intellect to accomplish nefarious goals. Nine doesn't have a personality per se. It just smashes.
BIO: Quinn McCarthy. Child genius. Born with every advantage possible. His life was set. He was better than all of his peers, both in materialistic status and academic achievements. The McCarthys were wealthy, even by Cascadia standards. His father, Quinlan McCarthy, was the CEO of a bio-pharmaceutical company, and his family's lifestyle reflected accordingly. His mother, Laura McCarthy, née McIntyre, was the chief actuary for a multinational Investment Firm. After marrying to Quinlan, Laura quit her career and focused her time in homemaking, spending extra time stimulating Quinn's mind when Quinn was not in school. On the surface, things were perfect. A rich family, stay-a-home mom, straight-A son...
Of course, it was not. Quinn, as he entered his teenage rebellion years, felt like a caged bird. He wanted to fly. But not with his peers. They were below him. Intellectually they bored him. Physically they picked on him. By age 16, Quinn was finishing his Ph.D in chemical engineering, with a focus in medical research. If anyone cared to pick up the signs, his doctorate dissertation was on behavioral modification and control through chemicals in humans. Not exactly ethical,and the research was impeccable but who was going to speak up against the son of the biggest grantor of the whole science department? Quinn got into the Ph.D program with his smarts, and passed with his smarts. But the whispers never stopped.
As a 'gift' for earning his Ph.D, Quinlan built his son a state-of-the-art laboratory in the west wing of their family compound. Quinn, as a result, spent most of his days in there, running whatever experiment piqued his interest at that time. Quinn documented the results for a while, even going as far as bringing them up to his father, thinking that he can bring it to his company and make use of it. Quinlan brushed it all off, not seeing marketable value in his son's research. Discouraged, and perhaps enraged, Quinn stopped documenting his research and results. Instead, his experiments took a turn. One day, he found fascination in nano-technology. He brought a proposal to his father, on his twentieth birthday. Quinn ask for a robotics lab, dedicated to nano-machines, to be added to his existing laboratory. Quninlan, again, did not care. Laura signed the check and in a few short months, the new addition was built. At first, Quinn researched into using nano-machines to deliver medicine to hyper-specific locations of need. This again showed promise. Quinn, with his flames reignited, brought it up to his father once again. Quinlan was intrigued, but did not act on this. As this was too effective and did not provide a long-term profitable forecast. Quinn, dejected, shut himself in his lab for weeks...
Then. Quinn had a idea. What if. Just what if. He used himself to show how effective and revolutionary his research can be? He first began researching chemical compounds, specifically ones that can expand human brain effectiveness. He discovered that a major barrier to unlocking the brain's true potential lied in emotional barriers. Be it fear, anxiety, or a bevy of other emotions. If one can eliminate that barrier, the brain can be infinitely unlocked. Coupled with his advancements in nano-machines, Quinn figured he can deliver specific chemical mixtures to temporarily block certain neuron receptors in his brain, thus allowing him to open that part of his brain, so long as the chemical compound is effective. At first, Quinn decided to mess with 'joy' or the feeling of happiness. He wanted to see what uninhibited joy felt like...
Then came sadness. Fear. Anger...
Quinn tried to block each emotion one by one. He found varying levels of success, as some emotions like fear was hardwired into the body and is much harder to turn off. What he did not notice is that he began feeling other emotions in an elevated capacity, first while he was messing with his chemical compounds, then even when he wasn't...
The nano-machines also started becoming an unnoticed problem. Originally, they were designed to be metabolized by the body, filtered back out, and discarded along with other toxic and waste products. But, as he continued to experiment on himself, the nano-machines adapted. He made them too smart, too effective. They stayed behind. The body stopped being able to filter them out. At first, Quinn would run a fever as his body employed the only other natural method it knows to get rid of what it identified as something that should not be there. The nano-machines adapted to that too. It began assimilating itself with other harmless cells in the body, even going as far as adapting a self-destruct mechanism as to not have the body identify it as a mutating cell and destroy it. The body learned to live with the nano-machines, starting to utilize it to repair whatever damage Quinn's internals took on. Quinn felt healthier than ever. Not stronger physically, as that still required him to do something he simply finds no value in. But healthier in the sense that he simply did not get sick.
Then, as his body began rejecting the usual chemical compounds, he grew increasing frustrated. At first, he was able to contain such emotions, not lashing out. As the days grew on, and the frustration multiplied, Quinn was reaching his limit...
What happened next began as a blur for Quinn, then he could not remember. All he knows is that when he was regaining his consciousness, he faintly heard his father talking to some other person about containing something and paying something. Laura, his mother, was sobbing softly...
These events became more and more frequent. Quinn would see news reports, Youtube videos and social media posts about some kind of rage monster, rampaging through downtown Cascadia and the heroes of SDN coming to save the day. That was interesting, as Quinn was noticing more and more people from SDN showing up at his house, chatting with his parents...
CRIMES:Allegedly causing massive property damage. Terroristic acts, causing fear and panic among citizens of Cascadia. Causing human casualty, number undisclosed. Never officially charged as he has always been bailed out and acquitted of charges prior to being summoned to court. Legal guardians agreed to contract of service to SDN as employment, read 'Surveillance Program Tau-Five' for employment details.
Surveillance Program Tau-Five " Samsara " /While most details are redacted or restricted, it is known that Quinn "Quartermaster" McCarthy is to be employed by SDN, as an intelligence asset, specializing in areas of mission control and other various technologically or chemically complex operations. Subject is to be provided with fully functioning laboratory to continue formulation of his own medication, in order to control breach incidents of Subject B, colloquially known as 'Nine'. Origins of name of Subject B can only be identified as ' It was my ninth concoction... ' Alternate containment method, outside of prevention via chemical interference, is to mobilize SDN Asset codename 'Moxie' and allowing asset to perform /redacted/
NAME: Quinn McCarthy CODENAME: "Quartermaster"/"Q" or "Nine" AGE: 25 HEIGHT: 5'8"/8'5" BIRTHPLACE: Cascadia, Upper West Side (Or whichever is the 'rich neighborhood') VIBE: Nerd with a serious case of delusion of grandeur, believe himself to be a sort of Knight of the Round Table/Untamed Rage Monster DETAIL: A lanky, unassuming 'welllll ackually' male / Red-skinned, muscled beyond what is normally possible, gnashing teeth...
CONTRACT: Enlisted for his technical/chemical expertise and genius-level intellect |STATUS: Active Liability
POWER & LIABILITY
ABILITIES: As Quartermaster, Quinn possesses next to no physical combat capabilities. What he lacks, he makes up with his intellectual prowess. Able to analyze a situation and craft a near bullet-proof plan. He is also very adept with working with chemicals, for obvious reasons... As Nine, however, things are completely opposite. He becomes what can only be described as a near mindless monster of destruction. He is nearly uncontrollable, causing damage regardless of friend or foe.
LIABILITY: As Quartermaster, Quinn suffers from delusion of grandeur. He believes, wholeheartedly, that he is a descendant, of the mythical King Arthur, and is thus a member of the Knights of the Round Table. He holds himself in such a regard that he will come off as looking down upon others. While King Arthur was noble and behaved as such, Quinn is not and he will use his intellect to achieve his goals, however nefarious they may be. As Nine, he is destruction made 'flesh'. Hard to contain, even harder to control. Currently, the only effective method of containment is either through prevention or have Moxie /Redacted/
ASSET CAPACITY
STAT|VALUE|RATIONALE
Combat|1 As Quartermaster / 4 as Nine|Quinn simple cannot fight. To the point that he might hurt himself trying to throw a punch. As Nine, this is about all it can do. Destroy.
Vigor|2 as Quartermaster / 4 as Nine |Quinn is not exactly feeble. He isn't exactly in good shape either. He just... is. As Nine, it's muscles have muscles on top of their muscles. Tougher than nails, nigh impervious to most types of damage.
Mobility|3 as Quartermaster / 3 as Nine|Quinn isn't exactly fast, or stealthy. He just knows how to get out of dodge. Years of avoiding bullies. For Nine, using it's immeasurable muscular strength, it is able to move it's massive frame at a surprising speed. Next to no stealth to speak of, however.
Charisma|3 as Quartermaster / ? as Nine|Quinn has had to convince his bullies to stop picking on him, and to not take all of his lunch money. But, he just isn't the guy to cold-approach someone in a bar and hold a conversation. As for Nine. What is charisma to a rage monster?
Intellect|4 as Quartermaster / 1 as Nine|This is where Quinn shine. There is hardly a program he can't solve, a chemical equation he cannot figure out, a code he can't crack. Nine doesn't think. It just smashes.
MECHANICS & STATUS
DESIGNATED ROLE: As Quartermaster, team strategist, chemist and 'brains'. As Nine, we don't really know...
SIGNATURE TACTIC/MANEUVER: Quinn will look to always stay behind, in mission control, wherever that might be. Be it a mobile command center, a cafe nearby with his laptop, or someplace similar. You do not want him in the frontlines anyways. Nine does not recognize where it physically is. It does not matter to it. It simply wants to smash and destroy.
EMOTIONAL STABILITY RATING (1-5): As Quinn, a 5 if he is properly medicated. A 1 if he isn't. As Nine, 1. Zero if possible.
HISTORY & DESCRIPTION
PERSONALITY: Due to his delusion of grandeur, Quinn thinks himself above others. He sees himself as a Knight of the Round Table and that his actions are noble. Of course, they may be noble from time to time. But, Quinn is not above using his intellect to accomplish nefarious goals. Nine doesn't have a personality per se. It just smashes.
BIO: Quinn McCarthy. Child genius. Born with every advantage possible. His life was set. He was better than all of his peers, both in materialistic status and academic achievements. The McCarthys were wealthy, even by Cascadia standards. His father, Quinlan McCarthy, was the CEO of a bio-pharmaceutical company, and his family's lifestyle reflected accordingly. His mother, Laura McCarthy, née McIntyre, was the chief actuary for a multinational Investment Firm. After marrying to Quinlan, Laura quit her career and focused her time in homemaking, spending extra time stimulating Quinn's mind when Quinn was not in school. On the surface, things were perfect. A rich family, stay-a-home mom, straight-A son...
Of course, it was not. Quinn, as he entered his teenage rebellion years, felt like a caged bird. He wanted to fly. But not with his peers. They were below him. Intellectually they bored him. Physically they picked on him. By age 16, Quinn was finishing his Ph.D in chemical engineering, with a focus in medical research. If anyone cared to pick up the signs, his doctorate dissertation was on behavioral modification and control through chemicals in humans. Not exactly ethical,and the research was impeccable but who was going to speak up against the son of the biggest grantor of the whole science department? Quinn got into the Ph.D program with his smarts, and passed with his smarts. But the whispers never stopped.
As a 'gift' for earning his Ph.D, Quinlan built his son a state-of-the-art laboratory in the west wing of their family compound. Quinn, as a result, spent most of his days in there, running whatever experiment piqued his interest at that time. Quinn documented the results for a while, even going as far as bringing them up to his father, thinking that he can bring it to his company and make use of it. Quinlan brushed it all off, not seeing marketable value in his son's research. Discouraged, and perhaps enraged, Quinn stopped documenting his research and results. Instead, his experiments took a turn. One day, he found fascination in nano-technology. He brought a proposal to his father, on his twentieth birthday. Quinn ask for a robotics lab, dedicated to nano-machines, to be added to his existing laboratory. Quninlan, again, did not care. Laura signed the check and in a few short months, the new addition was built. At first, Quinn researched into using nano-machines to deliver medicine to hyper-specific locations of need. This again showed promise. Quinn, with his flames reignited, brought it up to his father once again. Quinlan was intrigued, but did not act on this. As this was too effective and did not provide a long-term profitable forecast. Quinn, dejected, shut himself in his lab for weeks...
Then. Quinn had a idea. What if. Just what if. He used himself to show how effective and revolutionary his research can be? He first began researching chemical compounds, specifically ones that can expand human brain effectiveness. He discovered that a major barrier to unlocking the brain's true potential lied in emotional barriers. Be it fear, anxiety, or a bevy of other emotions. If one can eliminate that barrier, the brain can be infinitely unlocked. Coupled with his advancements in nano-machines, Quinn figured he can deliver specific chemical mixtures to temporarily block certain neuron receptors in his brain, thus allowing him to open that part of his brain, so long as the chemical compound is effective. At first, Quinn decided to mess with 'joy' or the feeling of happiness. He wanted to see what uninhibited joy felt like...
Then came sadness. Fear. Anger...
Quinn tried to block each emotion one by one. He found varying levels of success, as some emotions like fear was hardwired into the body and is much harder to turn off. What he did not notice is that he began feeling other emotions in an elevated capacity, first while he was messing with his chemical compounds, then even when he wasn't...
The nano-machines also started becoming an unnoticed problem. Originally, they were designed to be metabolized by the body, filtered back out, and discarded along with other toxic and waste products. But, as he continued to experiment on himself, the nano-machines adapted. He made them too smart, too effective. They stayed behind. The body stopped being able to filter them out. At first, Quinn would run a fever as his body employed the only other natural method it knows to get rid of what it identified as something that should not be there. The nano-machines adapted to that too. It began assimilating itself with other harmless cells in the body, even going as far as adapting a self-destruct mechanism as to not have the body identify it as a mutating cell and destroy it. The body learned to live with the nano-machines, starting to utilize it to repair whatever damage Quinn's internals took on. Quinn felt healthier than ever. Not stronger physically, as that still required him to do something he simply finds no value in. But healthier in the sense that he simply did not get sick.
Then, as his body began rejecting the usual chemical compounds, he grew increasing frustrated. At first, he was able to contain such emotions, not lashing out. As the days grew on, and the frustration multiplied, Quinn was reaching his limit...
What happened next began as a blur for Quinn, then he could not remember. All he knows is that when he was regaining his consciousness, he faintly heard his father talking to some other person about containing something and paying something. Laura, his mother, was sobbing softly...
These events became more and more frequent. Quinn would see news reports, Youtube videos and social media posts about some kind of rage monster, rampaging through downtown Cascadia and the heroes of SDN coming to save the day. That was interesting, as Quinn was noticing more and more people from SDN showing up at his house, chatting with his parents...
CRIMES:Allegedly causing massive property damage. Terroristic acts, causing fear and panic among citizens of Cascadia. Causing human casualty, number undisclosed. Never officially charged as he has always been bailed out and acquitted of charges prior to being summoned to court. Legal guardians agreed to contract of service to SDN as employment, read 'Surveillance Program Tau-Five' for employment details.
Surveillance Program Tau-Five " Samsara " /While most details are redacted or restricted, it is known that Quinn "Quartermaster" McCarthy is to be employed by SDN, as an intelligence asset, specializing in areas of mission control and other various technologically or chemically complex operations. Subject is to be provided with fully functioning laboratory to continue formulation of his own medication, in order to control breach incidents of Subject B, colloquially known as 'Nine'. Origins of name of Subject B can only be identified as ' It was my ninth concoction... ' Alternate containment method, outside of prevention via chemical interference, is to mobilize SDN Asset codename 'Moxie' and allowing asset to perform /redacted/
Elithar was already walking forward. Then he felt an unnatural warmth. He'd look down, and notice the stream of orange light that somehow felt tangible envelop his body. Then a rush of calm and it was as if all the cramping, pains and aches just faded like the breeze he felt on the deck of the airship.
"So this man is a healer... or at least knows healing magic. Interesting..."
Looking at his surrounding, and with his newfound physical health, Elithar took off running as Corin turned around. He reached a nearby tree and swung himself up with surprising agility. Within mere moments, his presence would fade from Corin's view...
"Lets see what this man is about...Though... I kind of feel bad. This is like...elder abuse...Oh well."
Why was he even aboard this ship? Elithar thought to himself. His hand brushed by the pommel of his twin blades, the small jewel embedded within gave a natural shine against the dim light on the railing of the ship. The air rushing past him felt nice, as the breeze kissed his hair before disappearing behind him.
Looking around the upper deck, the patrons of the view lounge shuffling about, doing whatever it is that they did. Having nicked a bottle of unknown liquor from an unsuspecting guest, Elithar stood by himself, taking slow sips and wondering what sorts of blacksmithing material he is going to find, wherever it is the airship was taking him.
His mind refocused back on his twin blades, thinking back to the last time he was at a forge...
SCHTINK
exhale inhale
SCHTINK
He picked up the piece of metal that glowed, strangely, a faint blue. He looked around, the shop was quiet and the forgemaster was taking a nap. Perfect time for him to work. He wasn't an employee of the forge, nor was he an apprentice of the forgemaster. He simply talked his way into gaining access to this unique elven forge. The city of Taer Valior had a few blacksmiths, but only one that still uses the blue-spirit fire in their forges. He placed the billet back into the flame, knowing that he has to time this with precision if he wants his blades to work. Taking the precious seconds he has, he wipes the sweat from his brows and double checks that his hair is still secure. One slip up, and not only would his blade fail, he himself would face mortal danger.
That's the risk he is willing to take.
Staring intently into the forge, the blue flames licked hungrily at the billet of elfish metal. His last ores at that. Drawing the billet from the belly of the forge, he moved carefully but intently. The billet once again glowed a deep nightshade blue. If one was to listen carefully, they would hear the metal giving off a 'sizzing' sound against the anvil. He reached for the hammer, striking the glowing metal with force...
He blinked a few times, and he was back on the airship. There was now commotion within the upper viewing lounge. He turned so his back was against the wall and folded his arms in front of him, not looking to put himself in the action. It looked like a drunken squabble anyways.
Then came the announcement.
The airship was headed for a crash landing. Not ideal. Especially considering where they are going to be landing. Lhazaar Principalities is not somewhere one simply walk, or land in his case, into. He started looking around for anything sturdy, anything bolted down. There was not much to be found where he was, so he moved as quickly as possible against the tilt of the airship and grabbed on to a table to brace himself against the impending impact...
The next thing he knows was aches and pains, ringing out from what felt like his entire body. He took several deep breathes, relishing in the cool air and the fact that he was still alive. He was covered in leaves, sticks, and dirt. Nothing one wouldn't expect from surviving a crash landing. Just as he was about to get up and move, he noticed a being approach him. He decided to play dead, to try to find out who or what this being is.
The man, similar in size to himself, offered a hand. Elithar grabbed it and brought himself to standing, albeit with a small stumble. "Yes. Looks like you were too... As soon as he was standing, he let the man's hand go and started walking towards the port city, rolling his shoulders to work out whatever cramping he was experiencing.
He also assumed the man would be following him, so he was plotting on how he would either confront, or escape the mysterious armored man...
Hair Color: Black, styled long and into dreadlocks. Usually kept tied together to stay out of his sight
Eye Color:Red iris with golden streaks, black pupil
Skin Tone: Between sun-tanned to fair, depending on season
Distinguishing Features:His eye color is not typical of his race. He also has markings on his body, usually covered, that portray that he is a follower of Jaeldira Taeri. A smattering of scars, from old battles and excursions.
Clothing Style: Light, but form fitting most of the time. He certainly dresses for the occasion. It does not matter if it is the battlefield of the ballroom. If the event calls for and allows, he will adorn his braids with small cinches made of various metals and designs. He prefers to not wear other jewelry.
In battle, he prefers light armor and other gear that is suitable for his surroundings. He prefers to be kept light on his feet, and will dress and equip himself accordingly.
Psychology
Likes: 🗡️ Quietness 🗡️ Night Skies 🗡️ Sharp blades
Habits/Quirks: 🗡️ He will move to flip his braids behind him, even if they're already behind him. 🗡️ He will just walk away from a conversation that he deems over 🗡️ He is constantly checking his gear, even during rest periods
Dreams/Motivations: 🗡️ To truly master the Dance of Blades 🗡️ To forge his own swords that can be considered a masterpiece 🗡️ To become the leader of his own Warclan
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Willingness to make friends(1-5):3
Willingness toward romance(1-5):3
Personality:
He is generally quiet and no-nonsense. He sees himself as a instrument of war, and all that is unnecessary towards his goals are methodically cut out. That is not to say he is unwilling to make friends or partake in other more jovial activities. He simply keeps to himself and stays as low profile as possible.
Handling Conflict and Decisions He isn't the first one to defuse but he also will not shy away from a fight. The way he sees conflicts is "How can this benefit me or help me towards my goal?"
Place of Origin: Valenar, specifically Taer Zanathar Current Occupation: Assassin/Mercenary Living Family Members: None known Companions on the Airship: None other than his own summoned companions Why are you traveling to Khorvaire? To continue to work on his craft and to attempt to forge the greatest swords ever forged by a Valenar elf. Non-Combative Skills: Wilderness survival. Magical companion summoning History(Optional if you want to share)
Combat & Magic Potential
Class Concept / Role: Ranger
Signature Abilities (3): 🗡️ Silent Stalker – Move undetected in any terrain, evading sight and sound while in motion. 🗡️ Ambush Predator – Deliver devastating opening strikes when attacking enemies unaware of your presence. 🗡️ Hunter’s Mark – Magically mark an enemy, allowing you to relentlessly track and deal increased damage to your chosen target.
Major Weaknesses (3): ⚙️ Fear of drowning - Even though he grew up near the sea, he never got his sea legs per se. ⚙️ Hard to Approach - Given his disposition and personality, most folks tend to steer away from him, making socialization difficult. ⚙️ Seeing Red - While he is practiced in the art of assassination, he can get into a fit of bloodlust. He knows who his target is, but all those around him will also die
Racial Trait(s) (If Applicable): Valenar Elves – Battle Trance Nomadic warrior elves who revere ancestors through battle. Ability: Once per day when engaged in battle, a Valenar elf can enter a heightened state of focus, allowing them to anticipate enemy movements, react with lightning speed, or execute a perfect counterattack.
Boons & Banes: 🗡️ Blacksmith – Skilled at maintaining, repairing, and modifying weapons and armor. 🗡️ Survivalist – Can live off the land, track creatures, and find shelter in the wild. ⚙️ Tone-Deaf – Can't carry a tune or recognize musical notes, making performance a challenge.
Combat Equipment and Gear: 🏹 Shortbow – Lightweight and versatile, excellent for rapid firing from cover. Made from ironwood found in Ravar Orioth. Much more durable than standard bows and allows for much heavier draws 🗡️ Shortswords – Ideal for swift, close-quarters engagements when stealth or speed is necessary. He has forged these himself. The body of the blades are inscribed with runic words as blessings by Jaeldira Taeri
Ryo, the Spirit Tiger - 95% Comedic Relief/5% Purpose > Ryo tends to not know where he actually is or actually is being asked to do, 95% of the time. He will simply have that goof grin on his face, and remain almost completely still, thinking that it makes him invisible. the 5% of the time he is 'locked in', he can intimidate a target of Elithar's choice. Ruvan, the Spirit Magpie - 5% Comedic Relief/95% Purpose > Ruvan spends most of his time trying to keep Ryo from actively sabotaging whatever mission Elithar might be on. He is always very serious, even when the time is meant to be relaxing. His main purpose, outside of keeping Ryo out of trouble, is to serve as a scout for Elithar, gathering and passing information.
Hair Color: Black, styled long and into dreadlocks. Usually kept tied together to stay out of his sight
Eye Color:Red iris with golden streaks, black pupil
Skin Tone: Between sun-tanned to fair, depending on season
Distinguishing Features:His eye color is not typical of his race. He also has markings on his body, usually covered, that portray that he is a follower of Jaeldira Taeri. A smattering of scars, from old battles and excursions.
Clothing Style: Light, but form fitting most of the time. He certainly dresses for the occasion. It does not matter if it is the battlefield of the ballroom. If the event calls for and allows, he will adorn his braids with small cinches made of various metals and designs. He prefers to not wear other jewelry.
In battle, he prefers light armor and other gear that is suitable for his surroundings. He prefers to be kept light on his feet, and will dress and equip himself accordingly.
Psychology
Likes: 🗡️ Quietness 🗡️ Night Skies 🗡️ Sharp blades
Habits/Quirks: 🗡️ He will move to flip his braids behind him, even if they're already behind him. 🗡️ He will just walk away from a conversation that he deems over 🗡️ He is constantly checking his gear, even during rest periods
Dreams/Motivations: 🗡️ To truly master the Dance of Blades 🗡️ To forge his own swords that can be considered a masterpiece 🗡️ To become the leader of his own Warclan
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Willingness to make friends(1-5):3
Willingness toward romance(1-5):3
Personality:
He is generally quiet and no-nonsense. He sees himself as a instrument of war, and all that is unnecessary towards his goals are methodically cut out. That is not to say he is unwilling to make friends or partake in other more jovial activities. He simply keeps to himself and stays as low profile as possible.
Handling Conflict and Decisions He isn't the first one to defuse but he also will not shy away from a fight. The way he sees conflicts is "How can this benefit me or help me towards my goal?"
Place of Origin: Valenar, specifically Taer Zanathar Current Occupation: Assassin/Mercenary Living Family Members: None known Companions on the Airship: None other than his own summoned companions Why are you traveling to Khorvaire? To continue to work on his craft and to attempt to forge the greatest swords ever forged by a Valenar elf. Non-Combative Skills: Wilderness survival. Magical companion summoning History(Optional if you want to share)
Combat & Magic Potential
Class Concept / Role: Ranger
Signature Abilities (3): 🗡️ Silent Stalker – Move undetected in any terrain, evading sight and sound while in motion. 🗡️ Ambush Predator – Deliver devastating opening strikes when attacking enemies unaware of your presence. 🗡️ Hunter’s Mark – Magically mark an enemy, allowing you to relentlessly track and deal increased damage to your chosen target.
Major Weaknesses (3): ⚙️ Fear of drowning - Even though he grew up near the sea, he never got his sea legs per se. ⚙️ Hard to Approach - Given his disposition and personality, most folks tend to steer away from him, making socialization difficult. ⚙️ Seeing Red - While he is practiced in the art of assassination, he can get into a fit of bloodlust. He knows who his target is, but all those around him will also die
Racial Trait(s) (If Applicable): Valenar Elves – Battle Trance Nomadic warrior elves who revere ancestors through battle. Ability: Once per day when engaged in battle, a Valenar elf can enter a heightened state of focus, allowing them to anticipate enemy movements, react with lightning speed, or execute a perfect counterattack.
Boons & Banes: 🗡️ Blacksmith – Skilled at maintaining, repairing, and modifying weapons and armor. 🗡️ Survivalist – Can live off the land, track creatures, and find shelter in the wild. ⚙️ Tone-Deaf – Can't carry a tune or recognize musical notes, making performance a challenge.
Combat Equipment and Gear: 🏹 Shortbow – Lightweight and versatile, excellent for rapid firing from cover. Made from ironwood found in Ravar Orioth. Much more durable than standard bows and allows for much heavier draws 🗡️ Shortswords – Ideal for swift, close-quarters engagements when stealth or speed is necessary. He has forged these himself. The body of the blades are inscribed with runic words as blessings by Jaeldira Taeri
Ryo, the Spirit Tiger - 95% Comedic Relief/5% Purpose > Ryo tends to not know where he actually is or actually is being asked to do, 95% of the time. He will simply have that goof grin on his face, and remain almost completely still, thinking that it makes him invisible. the 5% of the time he is 'locked in', he can intimidate a target of Elithar's choice. Ruvan, the Spirit Magpie - 5% Comedic Relief/95% Purpose > Ruvan spends most of his time trying to keep Ryo from actively sabotaging whatever mission Elithar might be on. He is always very serious, even when the time is meant to be relaxing. His main purpose, outside of keeping Ryo out of trouble, is to serve as a scout for Elithar, gathering and passing information.
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