After being let up, Elithar sighed and dusted himself off. This was not in his agenda of things to do after falling from an airship. He did not expect to have to make a deal already to get himself out from a sticky situation. Regardless. Now that he is back on his feet, he can get back to what he wanted to do previously anyways.
Then the growl of his stomach made it's protest...
Then was the mention of food and drink. Beauties...that's in the eyes of the beholder.
"Fine. Just... don't rob me. I'm not exactly overflowing with coins..." He said to the feline one. He also wondering why the sudden attitude change from the serpentine one. He suspects it's because of this odd gem that has been embedded onto him. He still doesn't know what this gem does, but folks seems to covet it. That's not...exactly ideal. He doesn't know how to remove the gem, and it's in a place that is fairly visible, given how he tends to dress...
The trio then met up with some other strangers, some that seems to know each other already but Elithar only identifies one other person there. Corin, the older man he met as the airship crashed. A half-elf then approached him, seemingly familiar with at least the feline one that he just met. "Oh no. Your friend has been perfectly amicable. Hello Phia. My name is Elithar. It is pleasant to make your acquaintance." Elithar said to the only person to have approached him.
The sounds of the tavern was deafening in a welcoming way. It was lively, and people seem jolly. The smell of sea salt and smoke permeated the establishment. Elithar was naturally drawn to the smell of food and ale, as he has not eaten in quite a while. The kraken on the wall. That intrigued Elithar. He had heard that there are parts of a kraken that can be harvested and used in various ways, some may even include imbuing magical properties into various items. If given the chance, Elithar would surely like to either slay one or somehow get his hands on some of these parts to use in his craft...
Elithar looked towards the original pair that he was with, and conceded. He was a man of his word. A pint and answers to questions. Just that now there are more folks familiar to him outside of the two he was just with. "Fine. A pint for the table I suppose... Assuming I have enough coins. Otherwise you're out of luck. I'm not trading my wares or my body for you guys to drink yourselves silly. Hey bar-keep! A pint for each of my friends at the table here!" Elithar said, slightly elevating his voice...
color:ffce00 -In the streets of Hartworth, Caesonia-
A slender figure, dressed in drabby, rough-hewn clothing with a cloak that covers him from head to lower calf walks slowly through the street. Another figure, dressed in similarly drabby clothing, follows a few paces behind.
"How much for this?" The slender figure said, picking up an apple and perusing the other various edible items in the stall.
"One copper for one. Three copper for five..." The stall-tender said absentmindedly. not paying the slender figure much attention at all.
Normally, the slender figure would have said something about the lack of respect. But. Given light to recent events, he simply does not care anymore. There isn't much in the world that he truly cares about. The events of that evening still replaying in his mind, like a old wound that just would not stop causing pain...
"Just the one, I think. Thank you, friend." The slender figure said meekly, dropping one piece of copper on the table and taking one apple before turning away from the stall, continuing to walk through the busy market. The second figure walked past the stall and purchased one apple for himself as well, offering the stall-tender a courteous nod.
The slender figure mindlessly wandered the market for a time, taking small bites of the apple from time to time. The sweet, crisp, apple did it's best to wash away the bitter taste that lingered, though he has not had anything physically bitter to eat in a long time. The taste never seems to fade.
Another day, another sunset. During the pointless meandering, the second figure was stopped by a courier, somehow making out how the figure is. The courier handed the figure an envelop, embroidered with a noble wax seal. The figure took a look, knowing that it could be and opened it before offering the courier the same courteous nod as he did the stall-tender. Taking a look a the content of the envelop, he offered a small sigh. They have to attend. It's expected of them, after all.
Walking up a spiral staircase, the second figure followed the slender figure, brushing past several sheets of lace and satin serving as dividers. When the pair reached the top, the slender figure made his way to a pile of pillows on the floor and curled up amongst them, looking nothing like who he was born to be...
"Shahzade. We have to attend. We have been invited...Please...' The second figure let his hood fall back, revealing a handsome young man, small marks of sand and weariness upon his cheeks.
"No. No we don't. I don't want to...' The slender figure replied, his tone soft and weak but not stemming from fatigue. It was something deeper.
"Shahzadi Rayna is said to be attending... I'm sure she would love to see her older brother..."
"Heh... I wonder if Father knows she is all the way here..."
"Only one way to find out, Shahzade."
"Still I don't want to. Go for me. Tell her I died. I don't care.
"Now we both know that simply would not work. Nor is it proper, Shahzade...
"Eh. Whatever. Father doesn't expect me to make a match and ascend the Sun Throne anyways. I'm always the failure. The Prince-That-Should-Not-Be. Heh..."
"Wh-...? Ok. That's it. MUNIR IBN RAIF AL KADIR. The second figure said in a loud, stern and forceful voice. One that roused the man that is currently still on the floor. "YOU GET YOURSELF TOGETHER DAMMIT. STOP SULKING. THIS ISN'T YOU. NO SON OF ALIDASHT IS ALLOWED TO SELF-DESTRUCT. WAKE THE FUCK UP. FORTIFY YOURSELF!"
The man previously curled up amongst pillows has now scrambled and sat up. In the process, the hood that covered his head had fallen, revealing another handsome man. His features spoke of a soft grace, with and edge behind it. Like an ornate dagger, one that is as pleasing on the eyes as it is deadly when used.
"GET YOURSELF TOGETHER. I WILL ARRANGE FOR YOU TO MEET SHAHZADI RAYNA.... uhum. Excuse me. Before we have to attend the ball. Now. I will go have some clothing, fitting for a ball, made for you. Don't do anything else stupid in the mean time.
The man on the floor nodded sheepishly. The second figure offer a small smile and a deep bow before excusing himself...
Several more members of SDN started filtering in. Quinn sat back in his chair, covering his 'health tracker' on his right wrist with his left hand, trying to appear as nonchalant and relax as he could while trying to collect data points on whichever heroes he doesn't have data on yet.
"Ms. Vance. As per usual with the sharp tongue. Don't you worry about my caffeine intake. What I have here in this bottle is just the right mix for myself. Keeps me grounded, if you will..." Quinn let out a small scoff at the mention of Chadwick. Their 'intrepid' team mascot. All jawline and perfectly coiffed hair with a tan faker than a three-dollar bill. "Why aren't you running the show already? Why must we interact with that buffoon of a man... Whatever. Quinn said, voice flat with laced with disdain.
Then. Quinn turned his attention towards everyone else in the room, addressing those he hasn't in the order he deemed most efficient... "Moxie. Moxie Moxie Moxie..." Quinn said in a measured, teasing tone "We haven't had a chat in quite a while. I've missed our deep conversations . When can you drop by and have a chat again? ?
Quinn then turned his attention to the newer faces in the room, sans Chadwick still. It was unlike him to be late but whatever.
"Hm. Pink sweater... A choice for sure. I'm Quinn. I'm basically Poe, but less quippy and better with chemicals. The questions of who is actually better with technology is one we will never have answers to, isn't that right, Ms. Vance?" Quinn shot Poe a quick glance, with notes of disobedience and challenge behind it.
"And you. Sir. You look like a bag of sunshines and fun. Do pep up, eh? I can give you some uppers if you're ever feeling down. No drastic side effects, I promise. Unless you'd rather tango with Moxie like I have done of course." Quinn said towards Liam. Another new face, more data points for him to gather at this point.
"Mr. Graves. Your exploits I have heard about. Yes, 'Jim's Ambrosia' is certainly the doings of our high-strung leader Chadwick. You should come by my lab from time to time. I've got better coffee and certainly some fun chemicals that you'd like to try out. Like I said, no drastic side effects of course. " Quinn said towards Tripwire. It's hard to conceal a power that deals in what looks like coincidences. The notes of his prior deals were certainly an interesting read...
"And you. Monkey...? Just where do you hail from? Surely there are data logs on one such as yourself... I'll be sure to look for it. Fascinating. Unless you need to go through some sort of transformation to reach this state, which would be cool in and of itself. I can only assume you were, as the kids say, born this way. In any case. I'm Quinn. Resident smart guy. You'd find no monkey business with me... That's your territory, as they say."
Finally, the first person to arrive before him. If Quinn guess, this was the straight-laced one, the one that will try to clean up whatever mess the 'team' would get into. "And you, good sir. Your file I've read. Another fascinating power. Just...don't touch me or my lab equipment, please. I don't know if you'd like what you see..."
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."
RPM
DWGJay
princess
Oso
SilverSpring
Scrawl Banditta
Days
CitrusArms
Blair
Remram
