Appearance Marielle's chestnut brown hair, framing fine nearly porcelain colored skin and light brown eyes, creates an almost doll-like face, as if she were made to adorn some young girl's bed. Her frame is slim and not well developed, nearly any muscle on her body was developed by basic training. A shopkeeper's childhood has leant her a near-constant smile and open, approachable stance.
Given her choice, Marielle would wear a skirt and blouse everywhere, but military necessity squashed that. Her fatigues are slightly too big for her, leading to her sleeves and pant legs being rolled exactly one time each to keep them from interfering in her daily activities. Her standard issue boots are well-fit and well-kept, shining in the sun from the many layers of boot polish she applies. The rank badge of a private is sewn onto the shoulder of her uniform, a rifleman's class badge sewn below it so her comrades would know her "Specialty, or rather her lack thereof.
Height 5'3
Personality On duty, Marielle tried her hardest to be the serious warfighter she always imagined soldiers to be. This lasted for about one week of training before her naturally kind personality overshadowed her attempt at being mean. She's often found in unexpected areas of whatever place she is stationed at because she's volunteered to help somebody she's never met with a job she has no idea how to do. She is not easily frightened, a seemingly endless pool of calmness allowing the girl to remain serene even as the world cracks apart around her. With a ready smile and a joyful demeanor, Marielle makes an ideal partner for anyone looking to enjoy their war effort.
Off-duty, Marielle is much the same as on-duty: helping people and smiling while she does. When she isn't trying to stay as serious as she can stomach, Marielle laughs easily, an infectious giggle that can disable the girl for minutes at a time. She's curious and always ready to go on an adventure to try new things, but has what many would call a rather "vanilla" moral code, slower to embrace anything "seedy" in nature. Marielle isn't given to sadness or despair often, but when it does find her, she'll break down completely, becoming a semi-useless wreck of tears and blubbering attempts at words. All in all, Marielle is happy, a tad too helpful, and has an inexhaustible curiosity about the world around her.
Rank Private
Role Rifleman
Equipment Standard Rifleman Equipment: Rifle, knife, webbing, etc
Potentials
Angelic Countenance
In battle, Marielle's smile is still never far from her face, easily summoned to comfort her comrades and the wounded. She can sometimes soothe the fears of the wounded or terrified with a smile and comforting words
Helpful Tendencies
In battle, Marielle's desire to help her fellow soldiers is no less powerful than out of battle. When she sees her allies attacking nearby, she'll often leap in to join, adding her fire to theirs.
Respect For Life
Marielle believes everyone deserves a pleasant life, and is loathe to deliver more unpleaseantness than she has to. She refuses to partake in the more brutal affairs of war, particularly use of any weapon that uses fire or aims to deliver exceptional amounts of extra pain
Dad's Legacy
Marielle's no good father has left her permenantely terrified of close combat. When she is engaged in hand to hand, she sometimes panics and loses all semblence of coherency, stabbing or slashing frantically and just trying to get away from the situation.
Biography Marielle Oxford was born in a medium sized town to James and Teresa Oxford, a shoemaker and a shopkeeper respectively. The Oxford family was a large one, and nearly all concentrated in Wiltshire. The saying that it takes a village to raise a child was seemingly taken literally with Marielle, nearly every person in the town contributing to raising the girl in some way or another. Given her near constant smile, and her tendency to cry only when she observed others as being sad or upset, she received the nickname "Wiltshire's Angel".
When Marielle turned eight however, her father received a strange letter in the mail delivered by a man in an Army uniform. Her father cried for hours, but after that he was a different man. The death of her father's only brother in a training exercise made James into a cruel man. Any perceived slights against him were met with his fists, and this extended to his wife and daughter. Marielle took the worst of it, often taking the blame for any infraction that had upset her father so that nobody else would have to. Her father was a smart man however, making Marielle cover any bruises he left so that nobody else would figure out what was happening.
Despite this, Marielle was still a happy child, though scared of her father's wrath. She often played with other children and helped her mother in the shop, a task she adored. She loved showing people shoes and watching them smile when they found a good pair, and the customers loved little Marielle and her happy smile. It was one such customer that finally delivered Marielle from her father three days after her 12th birthday, spotting a large purple bruise where her sundress drooped. Though Marielle tried to cover for her father, she always hated lying and terrible at it as a result, the truth flowing forth after some light questioning. It wasn't long before the local police were involved and James was arrested, the shoemaker receiving no sympathy from the townspeople.
This badly damaged Teresa's business however, and the family slowly losing money as she had to buy shoes from manufacturers instead of selling the product of James's labors. This countinued for years, Marielle and her mother remaining in business largely because of the goodwill of the townspeople, despite the best efforts of James's remaining brothers to discredit the business. It didn't escape Marielle's notice that her mother was under more stress however, and the girl stepped up her attempts to help and lighten her mother's load in any way she couold.
It was this desire to help her mother that lead her into the military. When she came of age, she departed to the local recruiter in Wiltshire and signed up to do whatever she could. Marielle thought this was a perfect solution, she'd make money to send home, her mother wouldn't have to feed her anymore, and she could help protect all her dear friends in Wiltshire who protected her from her father and played with her as a young girl. With the last gift of a small forest green hairbow, which Marielle kept safely stowed on her person at all times, she was off to begin her soldiering career.
Affiliations
James Oxford - Father(Disowned) Teresa Malard - Mother Jack O'Reilly - Friend/Playmate Mary McBride - Friend/Playmate Darren Miller - Friend/Playmate
Hi, here is my character. Sorry for taking so long. Let me know if it is ok.
Anya Taskov
"That still only counts as one!" Name Anya 'Hex' Taskov
Gender Female
Age 24
Place of Birth Kenosha, Mars
Military Branch UNSC 105th Marine Expeditionary Unit - [SOC] ODST
Appearance Blessed with youthful-looking genes, Anya does tend to give off a young girlish look. She stands at 5'7" somewhere among the average for women in the helljumpers. Her locks are a shade of honey blonde that falls down her shoulders that she tries to maintain as best as she can in her circumstances. Her eyes are a lively shade of sky blue, and they are often expressive, revealing her emotions as often as they come. Her nose is slender and her lips a healthy shade of pink. In times of happiness, darling little dents of delight appear on her youthful visage, the dimples ever present whenever any form of smile or grin makes itself known. Her built is slim and toned, but nothing to overly boast about, but it is still more than physically fit to cope with the demands of being an ODST.
Attire Anya utilizes the Sharpshooter variant of the standard ODST BDU. The standard right pauldron is removed to give her more flexibility and mobility in combat, allowing her to move and aim more freely, while the standard left pauldron is switched to a larger plate to protect the sniper's arm from counterattacks. She is also issued with an optics device attached to the helmet, which the Oracle scope on the SRS99 can uplink to her HUD.
Weaponry - Sniper Rifle System 99D-Series 2 Anti-Matériel (SRS99D) - M7s Caseless SMG, with Silencer and reflex sight. - M6C/SOCOM Magnum with suppressor - Combat Knife - First Aid Kit - Flashbang x3 - M9 Frag x3 - Multi-Tool - Tac-Pad
>1st Lieutenant Winston Harwood
>Fireteam Leader - Dependable and well-liked leader. A great friend loved by many. The key person in raising the morale of the squad. - K.I.A.
>Staff Sergeant Helen Vinter
>Fireteam 2IC- General Purpose Specialist - An all-business soldier that always took things ever so seriously. Also tended to be kind of a bitch, but secretly also always has the squad's interest at heart. - K.I.A.
>Sergeant Boris Sokolov
>Close quarters specialist - A loud typical Russian man that loved his booze as much as he loved his shotgun. A great soldier who did his job really well. Well-liked by everyone in the squad. One of Anya's closest friends. - M.I.A.
>Lance Corporal Marcus Lee
>Combat Engineer - Another one of Anya's closest friends since childhood, the two of them have always been around one another, and decided to be join the UNSC and be an ODST together as well. - M.I.A.
>Private Jeff Goldman
>Rifleman - Bookish fellow that always had a book with him, and could always be found reading whenever he had any free time. Quiet, and often preferred the company of his books to talking. - K.I.A.
Rank Corporal
Specialisation ODST - Designated Marksman
Personality Quiet but focused, and competent at what she does best, Anya is a confident and efficient ODST trooper. Singled out for her exceptional accuracy and marksmanship since the very beginning, it has always been something she took great pride in. Although she may not be the talkative sort, she is easy enough to get along with and tends to have great teamwork and strong feelings of camaraderie with her team mates. Highly loyal, she does what it takes to save her friends and team mates, even going beyond protocols if necessary. Known to have a competitive streak within her, that can sometimes be a double-edged sword that can affect her performance at times if she does not reign it in herself or have anyone else to remind her to do so. She has a stubborn persistence once she sets her mind on something and her self-determination is definitely not to be under-estimated.
Biography Anya Taskov, also known as 'Hex' or 'Witch' in reference to the ancient meaning of the word which used to mean a magic spell, or curse upon someone. She gained the nickname after her uncanny accuracy, for once she sets her sights upon you, she'll get you at costs. This applies to when she is behind the scope of her rifle, and without. Her team mates know better than to get on her wrong side in fear or angering her for real. She is the daughter of a UNSC Colonel and Major. Coming from a military background, there was never any doubt that she would follow in the footsteps of her parents. She knew that her parents would be enrolling her into a military academy as soon as they could.
She performed admirably well in both her studies and sports, although she did have some issues where she ended up in fights whenever she had to defend one of her friends in their fights. After graduating with honours, Anya managed to convince Marcus, a close childhood friend of hers to enlist in the UNSC as well. It wasn't long after she enlisted that she discovered her aptitude and natural talent for marksmanship. She could hit most of the targets with any weapon, and was even more lethal when she was allowed access to a sniper rifle. After graduating from Marines basic training, she was slotted into the sharpshooter role within a squad, assigned as a designated marksman, providing fire support for her team mates. During the Red Devil campaign, she and her platoon managed to hold off waves of Covenant troops from overrunning a crucial forward base that was essential in the attempt for the final push of Covenant forces off the planet. Providing sniper support from her perch, she was able to turn the tide, pushing the odds to their favour. After the victory, Anya applied to join the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers and was subsequently accepted into its ranks after extensive training.
She was assigned to the UNSC 105th Marine Expeditionary Unit, and took battle in several battles and campaigns against the Covenant and travelled across many worlds. Her last known mission before Operation Grey Axe was Operation Blue Sword where she and her team was to play a key role in assisting other grounds teams in eliminating a Covenant supply base.
>Notable UNSC Marine Operations
>Red Devil Campaign: Operation Crimson Light >Ground support. Joined infantry units in the front line to assist in holding back invading Covenant forces. -Resounding success with overwhelming force.
>Red Devil Campaign: Operation Yellow Thunder >Objective-Based insertion. Provide support to defence forces overwhelmed by waves of invading Covenant forces threatening to overwhelm a crucial forward base needed for a counterattack. - Pyrrhic victory.
>Notable ODST Operations
>Operation Blue Sword >Ground-Support Elimination. Attacked fortified Covenant supply base with other UNSC ground teams in a bid to stem the flow of Covenant counterattacks. -Success with moderate casualties.
>Operation: Grey-Axe >Assassination mission against a high-ranking Covenant Fleet master - Presumed Failure..
Isaac is a young man built for hard work, in terms of the enduring stamina of the working class. He is exactly that in the Edinburgh regions. He can be a running, jumping athlete, but it's not his speed so much as his 'fuel' for such versatility that has him well-developed in this area. That and a strong back makes him well-suited to the trials and traumas of war...unfortunately. You find him as a Caucasian with dark brown hair - always looks a bit rough - who has a few bumps and scrapes that are not actually war-related, but the odd mistaken in his line of work. More on that later. A point of order about the eyes. They're not actually strange, like in the picture. That's just the sun. Isaac has a shade of brown eyes that reflect well in the fire or sunlight.
Attire-wise, Isaac does prefer to wear black, at least under the green fatigues of his uniform. It's kind of a joke that stuck, 'Isaac Black, back in black', so he went with it. Black shirt and pants with belt - as above - under body armor vest, and all of that under a green combat fatigue coat and an optional dirt-and-forest motif camouflage cloak. Naturally, they'd be giving him the basic combat boots, but if there was a shortage, he'd be fine in his work boots. The coat of his uniform has the insignia of a Lance-Corporal, but he doesn't always wear it. Isaac would rather people recognize and respect him than the rank. More on that later.
His general range of expression is often deep in thought or considering, mostly due to the life he's lived, which can get serious at times. Isaac is a pretty serious guy, at times, but he's not immune to cracking a smile, telling a joke, or being properly concerned. And the truth is, he looks like a man who could have real raw anger, if pushed in just the right direction. However, what is also seen is that he appears to want to control himself when it involves those whom he is close to in some way.
Height 5'10"
Personality The kind of guy that Isaac is tends to first involve him thinking 'Well, what's most important right now?', and then saying 'Yeah, we should take care of that, first thing.' before ultimately committing to it. Things that he's pretty sure are too important to miss out on taking care of, leaving the least to chance whenever possible, generally makes him stubborn to a fault. Bad consequences make him rather insistent, though he will eventually let it go...'with protest noted'. So, if he sees a bad call and he calls it a bad call and he gets overruled, he knows there's not much he can do about it, but he'd want it known that he thought it stank, and if it DID stink...he'd want someone to bear that stench for life...especially if he lives through that mistake.
Isaac tends to be the definition of 'harsh, but fair'. He doesn't want to be party to the rough stuff. The rough was thrust upon him with not enough of the smoothe, but sometimes you gotta deal with that, so here we are. Thus, Isaac tries to mitigate disaster and take responsibility. Should he be working his ass off to keep everybody alive by doing something against orders, he's going to be the one to take the brunt, but he's also going to say 'There was no alternative here'. He can stand up to a brow-beating from a higher rank and counter with plain old common sense, use of the head muscle where it might otherwise be lacking. He's not gonna throw away perfectly good lives for no reason. The point of war is to make them pay more for it.
So, Isaac can be a hardy guy, but that's on-duty. Off-duty, he likes reading and sitting in the sun, letting the world dissolve away with some kinda' drink in his hand. He lets loose the focus of the guy trying to watch everyone's back and cracks a smile. He's not really loud-spoken unless he needs to be, so when he's talking to people normally, he has a kind of calm and steady voice that doesn't excite easily. His kind of fear or panic in ANY sort of situation is somewhat subdued into a worried kind of 'Oh crap'. He tries to take an interest in people, though feeling maybe they don't want to know much about him working at a farm and such. Well, maybe the one thing he does, but that could just as easily freak people out.
What you find out about Isaac is that he's generally dependable. He'll hear your problems, even though he can't guarantee he'll be able to do anything about them. If you need him to keep something to himself, he'll do it if the request is reasonable. What he will not do is let anybody intimidate him, though he isn't the type to just go looking for a fight, not unless someone's threatening his own. If something goes wrong, it weighs heavily on him, especially if he screwed up, personally. A decent guy, overall, and he doesn't want change that. He's not the uniform. It comes off when he's not 'on the job'.
Rank Lance Corporal (Applying)
Role Gunner
Equipment HR-14 Machine Gun, Black Knuckle Duster Trench Knife
Potentials Enlisted Man - Otherwise known as looking out for the little guy or working-class man of the people. Isaac's in this for people at the bottom of the command chain, not the brass. This war is about keeping people alive on his side, dead on theirs.
The Wolf Among Us - He has sharp instincts and gut feelings, stops at the sound of a rustle or a twig snapping, and is ready to tear into the enemy as soon as it shows itself without delay, especially if they threaten his 'pack'.
Sage Wit - Isaac's sense of humor puts him as some sort of wiseguy, emphasis on wise, at times. He considers things, so he can at least try to see your angle, or perhaps find something funny to say if it'll lighten the mood.
Biography He was born, which was...kind of surprising, really. His parents thought it was actually safe to engage in the right interaction, in which he was then born during a particularly-cold October. His siblings - Alex and Emeri - were conceived to be born in early summer, and at a different day of the week and week of the month, but you can't quite predict this sort of thing, sometimes. There he was, though, and there he would remain, a part of the Black Livestock Ranch. Isaac grew into the responsibilities of a farm as a kid, helping out with little tasks and chores around until he was old enough to get pulled into heavier work. This was a place of harvesting two things. The first was wearable material - wool and leather - and the second was edible material - mutton and beef - to be sold at the nearest town. Said town - which they were technically a part of, but on the most outskirt of outskirts - was Hadleigh.
The Blacks also had another trade, one that did not involve the death of animals, but rather the training. The Blacks were the trainers of wolf-dogs, the generational breeds of wolf hybrids who were to become the constant companions of human beings, reliable to the core. And do you know who they put to the task of it? Isaac. He and the latest generation raised each other as pups, giving Isaac insight into their line of thinking, how they react, and so on. It wasn't always done right...but he would always get back in and learn to train these creatures right. This is how he got those cuts. He'd had a few that were not exactly ready to go un-feral, and that made them keen to bite or scratch. He was deterimined to get it right, though, so he redoubled his efforts, considered the thoughts of the wolves, why they did things. Eventually, people got themselves some prime wolf dogs.
It came to the point where he got really into it, even enjoyed the challenge, and then went with one of his siblings to go deliver all their goods to a buyer. At this time, talk of the dangers of war were spreading wide. He and Alex were trying hard to ignore it. However, you could say that some people wouldn't allow it. Particularly, a recruiter with the power of draft was taking sudden notice that he was rather-easily moving what he assumed to be full-blooded wolves to a place to be sold. The astonishment led him to confront Isaac and call for his induction into the army. Isaac informed him that he was needed far too much in the business of providing food and clothes to those that needed it to possibly break away. The recruiter insisted, citing his impressive display as a reason for him to make it manditory, that he had a will of steel that they needed, and that he wasn't taking no for an answer. Isaac said no anyway, and umm...well, there were other soldiers right there.
So, he wasn't really given much of a choice. The kingdom tended to trample on personal rights when it came to bailing themselves out of a tough spot like this. Naturally, they gave him a speech about being honored and that he was being given a shot at juumping ranks and using some of that commanding presence he displayed and raw nerve with some other recruits. There were no guarantees, but the alternative was to call him a coward and a traitor in the face of a danger to his country, so of course Isaac had to bear it and make sure they pay him right for this. He wasn't going to do this for them. This was going to be about people like him and times like this, where this kind of problem was no-doubt affecting lots. So, it was off to the army for him...
Affiliations Allen Black - Father Erin Black - Mother Alex Black - Older Brother Emeri Black - Older Sister Rikes, Ellis, and the rest of the pack - Wolf hybrids he raised to become useable by people.
Relationships Nothing here, sir!
Character Theme
From what it is so far, I'd gladly accept it. I'll let you know about the Lance Corporal position within a few hours when I reach the decision.
@caliban22Just so you know, the date of birth you've given would make him 18 at the start of the story. The beginning date is August 25th, 1914EC, so your character would be 18 if you keep that birth-date. Just so you know
"It can't be just us? How do they expect us to even win?" Name Jean-Robin Charpentier
Gender Male
Age 17 Years, 11 Months - September 25th, 1898EC
Sexuality Heterosexual
Race Darcsen - Liege City
Appearance Jean isn't special when it comes to looks, sparing the fact that he is a Darcsen. He stands only at 5'11", which is quite ideal for the trenches he's assigned to stand within. When mentioning his physique and stance, he comes across as quite a frail individual from a distance. Jean does have enough muscle to keep him alive and to surpass the training he'd undertaken upon his enlistment, but the lack of visual queues towards his potential strength is hindered and greatly doubted by superiors at times. Though this may be more greatly influenced by his Darcsen ancestry, the general consensus had made him appear less cared for in his physical appearance. His jet-black hair was rather untidy at times, especially when covered by the usual helmet he was given, and the uniform he wears can sometimes appear quite tattered by the ruthless frontline conflict he was recently introduced to. With supplies in their shortest, like most other soldiers, hygiene was a difficult necessity to uphold, so his eyes are occasionally tainted with the results of sleepless nights in the cold trenches of Europa.
When it comes to his uniform, Jean is no different from any other soldier. He wears the uniform of a combatant enlisted into the army. The dark olive-drab colouring blended almost perfectly into the boggy-mud surrounding him at all times and the helmet he wears is constantly strapped on whenever he has the chance to. Upon his chest lies the rigs of webbing where he can maintain his ammunition storage and a spare holster for any small tools. In Jean's case, the service knife given to him by his training camp occupies this spare ground. It is also a usual feature to see a pair of rugged binoculars strapped around his neck, given his slightly advanced rank. His uniform also contains the single chevron of the Lance Corporal insignia.
Personality Before the First Europan War, Jean was quite a well-spoken and mannered boy, growing up in his middle-classed family without too much worries. He worked hard in his early and middle years of education and managed to find his passion for writing, journalism and other creative aspects that the pen-to-paper could bring out. When in those states of mind, he had been quite bubbly and energetic, preparing to share his works with whoever he could. However, the coming of age, first two years of war and impacts in his home started to strip and bury that once youthful spring he had. Now, pressured by his own people into service, Jean finds himself to be quite timid whenever the situation goes beyond his control. Compassionate about comrades and easily able to attach himself towards others, his feelings and thoughts of those around him sometimes force his mind to turn to others for assistance, and whenever comrades are in jeopardy he finds himself there to help if he can. However, it can be quite easy to torment him by the sights and sounds of consistent gunfire, eventually giving him the petty coping mechanism of writing non-stop.
Through his language studies prior to the conflict, he finds himself having a large attention to detail. Logic and rationality are usually his finest traits, but he cannot always count on his confidence to deliver such results from his lowly commanding rank. On top of this, Jean finds himself to be extremely cautious and sometimes unwilling to take unnecessary risks. This can hinder his chances of discovering new routes into conflict or avoiding the worst of firefights through waiting. Because of this, Jean finds himself quite dependent on the inputs of his subordinates and fellow soldiers who may have a clearer head in such high-stress situations. Whilst on paper some may criticise him for being a cowardly Darcsen, Jean is prepared to keep on pressing forward, despite having small or large fears, and to attempt to complete the mission at the expense of the enemy. Some also criticise him for not explicitly hating the Imperials specifically, mainly because their effects on him have only been through direct conflicts on the frontline, but he only uses this as justification for his humane beliefs and ability to follow orders effectively whilst considering who was at the end of his barrel.
Rank Lance Corporal
Role Rifleman - NCO Formation
Potentials Attention to Detail Because of his natural attention to creative meaning and fine print, Jean can sometimes identify some of finer details located throughout the frontline, including emplacements for machine guns, errors on the maps provided by Atlantic Command and formations for Imperial Attacks.
Dependency on Comrades Without having any combat experience prior to his enlistment, Jean is far too dependent on his troops to carry through, sometimes making their efforts more recognised than his own personal achievements. Other times this can lead to him putting his own life at risk for the benefits of others, which some recognise as false bravery or cowardice.
Darcsen Heritage Through being a Darcsen, he finds comfort in those who treat him the best or those of the same race. Those who sought to oppress the minority are quickly shunted in his mind and become a potential threat for future engagements in conversation.
Biography Jean-Robin Charpentier was born in the city of Liege, 1898EC, to a middle-class family split between two bloodlines: the Robin and Charpentier family trees. Technically a bastard, due to his parents conceding him before they even considered marriage, Jean faced the strange difficulties of mixing between two different families that he didn't blend in with well. One side was wealthier than the other but the latter consisted of more kind-hearted souls. From a young age, when his mother and father split from one another, still without having married one another, Jean was left to be catered for by his older sister, Olivia, between both families. Several years of arguments between both family names made it all the more confusing as to which ancestry he truly belonged with, causing him to isolate himself. Holding both of their names slightly sickened him, which he started to write down in secrecy in order to satisfy his mind. Eventually, he found comfort in writing down his feelings and eventually used it to construct simple anecdotes or verses from his childhood years. It carried him through education well enough to land him decent grades and an exceptional potential future ahead of him in writing, documenting and publishing small works. However, the year met 1912EC, and the first news came home. War was now declared.
Many of the streets almost paraded at the thought that the two greatest political superpowers, of Autocracy and loose Democracy, where the decider would bring the greatest honour and glory to this new age of warfare. Many businesses were extravagant and excited by the ability to test the new industrial gears in the field of battle, seeing it as a wonderful business opportunity to grow in their economic ranking. And so, many rushed to the volunteering offices when their age was just right and signed up to be the first wave out to war. Amongst the masses who left was Olivia, who promised to bring the worrying Jean back some antiques for him to draw. She also promised to consistently write to him to ensure that the war effort was going in her favour and that she was safe. Only 15 years of age, there was no way he could join her during the first day of enlistment, so he remained alone and isolated back in Liege.
They spent many days writing towards one another. He eventually hit the age of 16 and she congratulated him on getting so far in life. Every now and then, through the post, pictures of her with her squad sitting jovially around campfires, in their dugouts or around an artillery piece were sent back to entertain and bewilder the teenager. He was in a land of fascination every second he spent watching their adventures unfold. But soon, before his 17th birthday, the final letter came through the post. He rummaged through it, acting like an excited school boy, but was met with disappointment and distraught. It was a letter from the Atlantic Federation's ministry of defence, proclaiming that Private Olivia Robin-Charpentier had been shot dead during the Battle of Raloth River whilst crossing with her squad. It was a slaughter. This was the first news of severe death and destruction the young-man had heard, as the propaganda networks were restricting almost all of the bad news coming to the public eye. And soon enough, he reached the age of 17, and the suspicions started to target him.
It started with his family members. White feathers were seen laying on his pillows and bed sheets before appearing on mirror's around his house, labelling him as some sort of coward. He had reached the age in which he should have volunteered already, heading out to the frontline to join the millions of men, women and young adults alike fighting for the freedom of Europa, or so they said. However, once it extended beyond those he was supposed to love and care about, the abuse became thicker. Education and work was near impossible. Everyone in his neighbourhood and district from his city soon started to call him and target him for being the Darcsen Coward of Liege. Many used his own sister's death as a way to explain how his duty wasn't being fulfilled and how Olivia must have been looking down upon him in disappointment. The year spread on to 1914EC when he eventually gave in to the abuse and peer-pressure, enlisting into the Armed Forces of the Atlantic Federation, where he was quickly shipped off to Edinburgh for training.
The training was psychologically and physically strenuous. He couldn't handle the first few weeks and came only a hair-length close to dropping out and abandoning it there and then, but he didn't. He couldn't face the idea of going home and being ridiculed, beaten or neglected entirely by his family and society for quitting the prestigious role of a soldier. He gave in to the pressure and pushed through, hoping to secure himself a place in the 15th Atlantic Rifles, which he did by the end of his month's training. He wasn't entirely sure if he'd learnt any skills that would help him on the frontline, bar knowing how to shoot a rifle and thrust a bayonet. But it was something he'd bypassed and a small sigh of relief was encompassing his every breath. On top of that, the training commander selected him, as well as a select few, to become an acting NCO: here he gained his Chevrons for the Lance Corporal ranking, and was told he would become a great legend on the battlefield. How wrong could they have been, to tell the influential victim such lies?
Affiliations Mother - Helen Robin [Alive] Father - Herman Charpentier [Alive] Sister - Olivia Robin-Charpentier [K.I.A. - Battle of Raloth River]
"You can follow me into hell if you want, but I can't guarantee I'll get you out." Name Jean-Robin Charpentier
Gender Male
Age 17 Years, 11 Months - September 25th, 1896EC
Sexuality Heterosexual
Race Darcsen - Liege City
Appearance Jean isn't special when it comes to looks, sparing the fact that he is a Darcsen. He stands only at 5'11", which is quite ideal for the trenches he's assigned to stand within. When mentioning his physique and stance, he comes across as quite a frail individual from a distance. Jean does have enough muscle to keep him alive and to surpass the training he'd undertaken upon his enlistment, but the lack of visual queues towards his potential strength is hindered and greatly doubted by superiors at times. Though this may be more greatly influenced by his Darcsen ancestry, the general consensus had made him appear less cared for in his physical appearance. His jet-black hair was rather untidy at times, especially when covered by the usual helmet he was given, and the uniform he wears can sometimes appear quite tattered by the ruthless frontline conflict he was recently introduced to. With supplies in their shortest, like most other soldiers, hygiene was a difficult necessity to uphold, so his eyes are occasionally tainted with the results of sleepless nights in the cold trenches of Europa.
When it comes to his uniform, Jean is no different from any other soldier. He wears the uniform of a combatant enlisted into the army. The dark olive-drab colouring blended almost perfectly into the boggy-mud surrounding him at all times and the helmet he wears is constantly strapped on whenever he has the chance to. Upon his chest lies the rigs of webbing where he can maintain his ammunition storage and a spare holster for any small tools. In Jean's case, the service knife given to him by his training camp occupies this spare ground. It is also a usual feature to see a pair of rugged binoculars strapped around his neck, given his slightly advanced rank. His uniform also contains the single chevron of the Lance Corporal insignia.
Personality Before the First Europan War, Jean was quite a well-spoken and mannered boy, growing up in his middle-classed family without too much worries. He worked hard in his early and middle years of education and managed to find his passion for writing, journalism and other creative aspects that the pen-to-paper could bring out. When in those states of mind, he had been quite bubbly and energetic, preparing to share his works with whoever he could. However, the coming of age, first two years of war and impacts in his home started to strip and bury that once youthful spring he had. Now, pressured by his own people into service, Jean finds himself to be quite timid whenever the situation goes beyond his control. Compassionate about comrades and easily able to attach himself towards others, his feelings and thoughts of those around him sometimes force his mind to turn to others for assistance, and whenever comrades are in jeopardy he finds himself there to help if he can. However, it can be quite easy to torment him by the sights and sounds of consistent gunfire, eventually giving him the petty coping mechanism of writing non-stop.
Through his language studies prior to the conflict, he finds himself having a large attention to detail. Logic and rationality are usually his finest traits, but he cannot always count on his confidence to deliver such results from his lowly commanding rank. On top of this, Jean finds himself to be extremely cautious and sometimes unwilling to take unnecessary risks. This can hinder his chances of discovering new routes into conflict or avoiding the worst of firefights through waiting. Because of this, Jean finds himself quite dependent on the inputs of his subordinates and fellow soldiers who may have a clearer head in such high-stress situations. Whilst on paper some may criticise him for being a cowardly Darcsen, Jean is prepared to keep on pressing forward, despite having small or large fears, and to attempt to complete the mission at the expense of the enemy. Some also criticise him for not explicitly hating the Imperials specifically, mainly because their effects on him have only been through direct conflicts on the frontline, but he only uses this as justification for his humane beliefs and ability to follow orders effectively whilst considering who was at the end of his barrel.
Rank Corporal - As of Hill 58
Role Rifleman - NCO Formation
Potentials Attention to Detail Because of his natural attention to creative meaning and fine print, Jean can sometimes identify some of finer details located throughout the frontline, including emplacements for machine guns, errors on the maps provided by Atlantic Command and formations for Imperial Attacks.
Dependency on Comrades Without having any combat experience prior to his enlistment, Jean is far too dependent on his troops to carry through, sometimes making their efforts more recognised than his own personal achievements. Other times this can lead to him putting his own life at risk for the benefits of others, which some recognise as false bravery or cowardice.
Darcsen Heritage Through being a Darcsen, he finds comfort in those who treat him the best or those of the same race. Those who sought to oppress the minority are quickly shunted in his mind and become a potential threat for future engagements in conversation.
Traumatic Stress Ever since his first engagement atop of Hill 58, Jean's mind has been plagued with visions of the dead and the dying, he has suffered greatly with visions and panicked mood swings in relation to his building trauma. Jean has not coped well with the stress of battle as the continuation of the war brings many more troubles to his mind. Frequent hallucinations and moments of mood swings have been seen as an after-effect of this troubled potential.
Biography Jean-Robin Charpentier was born in the city of Liege, 1898EC, to a middle-class family split between two bloodlines: the Robin and Charpentier family trees. Technically a bastard, due to his parents conceding him before they even considered marriage, Jean faced the strange difficulties of mixing between two different families that he didn't blend in with well. One side was wealthier than the other but the latter consisted of more kind-hearted souls. From a young age, when his mother and father split from one another, still without having married one another, Jean was left to be catered for by his older sister, Olivia, between both families. Several years of arguments between both family names made it all the more confusing as to which ancestry he truly belonged with, causing him to isolate himself. Holding both of their names slightly sickened him, which he started to write down in secrecy in order to satisfy his mind. Eventually, he found comfort in writing down his feelings and eventually used it to construct simple anecdotes or verses from his childhood years. It carried him through education well enough to land him decent grades and an exceptional potential future ahead of him in writing, documenting and publishing small works. However, the year met 1912EC, and the first news came home. War was now declared.
Many of the streets almost paraded at the thought that the two greatest political superpowers, of Autocracy and loose Democracy, where the decider would bring the greatest honour and glory to this new age of warfare. Many businesses were extravagant and excited by the ability to test the new industrial gears in the field of battle, seeing it as a wonderful business opportunity to grow in their economic ranking. And so, many rushed to the volunteering offices when their age was just right and signed up to be the first wave out to war. Amongst the masses who left was Olivia, who promised to bring the worrying Jean back some antiques for him to draw. She also promised to consistently write to him to ensure that the war effort was going in her favour and that she was safe. Only 15 years of age, there was no way he could join her during the first day of enlistment, so he remained alone and isolated back in Liege.
They spent many days writing towards one another. He eventually hit the age of 16 and she congratulated him on getting so far in life. Every now and then, through the post, pictures of her with her squad sitting jovially around campfires, in their dugouts or around an artillery piece were sent back to entertain and bewilder the teenager. He was in a land of fascination every second he spent watching their adventures unfold. But soon, before his 17th birthday, the final letter came through the post. He rummaged through it, acting like an excited school boy, but was met with disappointment and distraught. It was a letter from the Atlantic Federation's ministry of defence, proclaiming that Private Olivia Robin-Charpentier had been shot dead during the Battle of Raloth Brook, as part of the First Crossing of the Maren River, whilst moving with her squad. It was a slaughter. This was the first news of severe death and destruction the young-man had heard, as the propaganda networks were restricting almost all of the bad news coming to the public eye. And soon enough, he reached the age of 17, and the suspicions started to target him.
It started with his family members. White feathers were seen laying on his pillows and bed sheets before appearing on mirror's around his house, labelling him as some sort of coward. He had reached the age in which he should have volunteered already, heading out to the frontline to join the millions of men, women and young adults alike fighting for the freedom of Europa, or so they said. However, once it extended beyond those he was supposed to love and care about, the abuse became thicker. Education and work was near impossible. Everyone in his neighbourhood and district from his city soon started to call him and target him for being the Darcsen Coward of Liege. Many used his own sister's death as a way to explain how his duty wasn't being fulfilled and how Olivia must have been looking down upon him in disappointment. The year spread on to 1914EC when he eventually gave in to the abuse and peer-pressure, enlisting into the Armed Forces of the Atlantic Federation, where he was quickly shipped off to Edinburgh for training.
The training was psychologically and physically strenuous. He couldn't handle the first few weeks and came only a hair-length close to dropping out and abandoning it there and then, but he didn't. He couldn't face the idea of going home and being ridiculed, beaten or neglected entirely by his family and society for quitting the prestigious role of a soldier. He gave in to the pressure and pushed through, hoping to secure himself a place in the 15th Atlantic Rifles, which he did by the end of his month's training. He wasn't entirely sure if he'd learnt any skills that would help him on the frontline, bar knowing how to shoot a rifle and thrust a bayonet. But it was something he'd bypassed and a small sigh of relief was encompassing his every breath. On top of that, the training commander selected him, as well as a select few, to become an acting NCO: here he gained his Chevrons for the Lance Corporal ranking, and was told he would become a great legend on the battlefield. How wrong could they have been, to tell the influential victim such lies?
Affiliations Mother - Helen Robin [Dead] Father - Herman Charpentier [Dead] Sister - Olivia Robin-Charpentier [K.I.A. - Battle of Raloth River]
Relationships
Captain Middleton From the first day Jean spent on the rear lines, it was clear that 1st Lieutenant Alexander-John Middleton was something of a stiff rival. He controlled everything about Jean, from rank authority to combat experience, and thus he held the popularity of those back home. Deceiving such an iconic facade propagated back home would lead to consequences from the public eye as well as that of the high command chain. Middleton was obviously one of the many who despised Darcsens, something that was slowly rising in its extremism. Because of this, Jean is treated and seen as an inferior, even though from his first battle Jean managed to hesitantly lead his troops to the top of Hill 58. More so, his empathy for others and fear towards the frontline makes him seem weaker to that of the Lieutenant, thus giving him yet another reason to hate his own subordinate. As the war began to progress, however, Middleton showed slight humanity in his broken self, a part that only Jean seemed to see. Now that he's a Captain...he's got more power.
Diana Elana Vastergoth Jean has a strange relationship with Diana so far. She'd already proclaimed her abnormal love for Jean straight away when they first met, and seemed to be attached to him constantly. At some parts, Jean felt really comfortable and almost passionate about her attention and dedication to finding romance, however Jean still has not found anything large in knowing about her. She remains a mystery, one with some slight ticks to her mentioning and challenging of romantic conclusions.
Michael Daunte With some professionalism, Michael and Jean have shared not too many moments together. However, similarly to Isaac, Jean feels most comfortable around the smaller Sapper for his down-to-earth characteristics presented in conversation, as well as the ability to joke around and care for others. Initially Jean had some small jealousy towards how he latched onto Lucia so endearingly (until Jean found his own interest, of course) but he respects the kindness that he shows towards the entire group.
Isaac Black As previously mentioned, Isaac is a standout comrade towards Jean. Though he feels bad for taking his rightful position as a promoted Corporal, Jean knows that Isaac truly doesn't mind and is prepared to give constructive feedback along the way regarding his mishaps and strengths. Jean easily would consider Isaac to be his go-to man for advice, confidence and representation whenever he cannot oversee everyone within the platoon.
Kalisa Larsen Much like Reyna, Kalisa is one of the two standout females that Jean seems to have a strong attraction towards. Unlike the former, he relates far better with her, even on their small conversations, for simply being Darcsens. Jean trusted her with a piece of his Darcsen cloth to show his appreciation of her presence. One thing Jean feels, however, is slight guilt to his protective nature. Having hurt her head slightly with concussions during an artillery bombardment, Jean is reluctant to do his protective ways again in fear of tainting the semi-perfect girl of that name.
Reyna Hall Oh god, it's true isn't it? Despite how many times he tried to deny it to himself, Jean can now fully admit that he'd fallen completely for Reyna. Well, he would never admit it, would he? Jean is terrified of such romantic pursuits on the battlefield, even if his actions suggest otherwise, yet he can't help but feel strongly attached to the goddess of Vinland.
"It can't be just us? How do they expect us to even win?" Name Jean-Robin Charpentier
Gender Male
Age 17 Years, 11 Months - September 25th, 1898EC
Sexuality Heterosexual
Race Darcsen - Liege City
Appearance Jean isn't special when it comes to looks, sparing the fact that he is a Darcsen. He stands only at 5'11", which is quite ideal for the trenches he's assigned to stand within. When mentioning his physique and stance, he comes across as quite a frail individual from a distance. Jean does have enough muscle to keep him alive and to surpass the training he'd undertaken upon his enlistment, but the lack of visual queues towards his potential strength is hindered and greatly doubted by superiors at times. Though this may be more greatly influenced by his Darcsen ancestry, the general consensus had made him appear less cared for in his physical appearance. His jet-black hair was rather untidy at times, especially when covered by the usual helmet he was given, and the uniform he wears can sometimes appear quite tattered by the ruthless frontline conflict he was recently introduced to. With supplies in their shortest, like most other soldiers, hygiene was a difficult necessity to uphold, so his eyes are occasionally tainted with the results of sleepless nights in the cold trenches of Europa.
When it comes to his uniform, Jean is no different from any other soldier. He wears the uniform of a combatant enlisted into the army. The dark olive-drab colouring blended almost perfectly into the boggy-mud surrounding him at all times and the helmet he wears is constantly strapped on whenever he has the chance to. Upon his chest lies the rigs of webbing where he can maintain his ammunition storage and a spare holster for any small tools. In Jean's case, the service knife given to him by his training camp occupies this spare ground. It is also a usual feature to see a pair of rugged binoculars strapped around his neck, given his slightly advanced rank. His uniform also contains the single chevron of the Lance Corporal insignia.
Personality Before the First Europan War, Jean was quite a well-spoken and mannered boy, growing up in his middle-classed family without too much worries. He worked hard in his early and middle years of education and managed to find his passion for writing, journalism and other creative aspects that the pen-to-paper could bring out. When in those states of mind, he had been quite bubbly and energetic, preparing to share his works with whoever he could. However, the coming of age, first two years of war and impacts in his home started to strip and bury that once youthful spring he had. Now, pressured by his own people into service, Jean finds himself to be quite timid whenever the situation goes beyond his control. Compassionate about comrades and easily able to attach himself towards others, his feelings and thoughts of those around him sometimes force his mind to turn to others for assistance, and whenever comrades are in jeopardy he finds himself there to help if he can. However, it can be quite easy to torment him by the sights and sounds of consistent gunfire, eventually giving him the petty coping mechanism of writing non-stop.
Through his language studies prior to the conflict, he finds himself having a large attention to detail. Logic and rationality are usually his finest traits, but he cannot always count on his confidence to deliver such results from his lowly commanding rank. On top of this, Jean finds himself to be extremely cautious and sometimes unwilling to take unnecessary risks. This can hinder his chances of discovering new routes into conflict or avoiding the worst of firefights through waiting. Because of this, Jean finds himself quite dependent on the inputs of his subordinates and fellow soldiers who may have a clearer head in such high-stress situations. Whilst on paper some may criticise him for being a cowardly Darcsen, Jean is prepared to keep on pressing forward, despite having small or large fears, and to attempt to complete the mission at the expense of the enemy. Some also criticise him for not explicitly hating the Imperials specifically, mainly because their effects on him have only been through direct conflicts on the frontline, but he only uses this as justification for his humane beliefs and ability to follow orders effectively whilst considering who was at the end of his barrel.
Rank Lance Corporal
Role Rifleman - NCO Formation
Potentials Attention to Detail Because of his natural attention to creative meaning and fine print, Jean can sometimes identify some of finer details located throughout the frontline, including emplacements for machine guns, errors on the maps provided by Atlantic Command and formations for Imperial Attacks.
Dependency on Comrades Without having any combat experience prior to his enlistment, Jean is far too dependent on his troops to carry through, sometimes making their efforts more recognised than his own personal achievements. Other times this can lead to him putting his own life at risk for the benefits of others, which some recognise as false bravery or cowardice.
Darcsen Heritage Through being a Darcsen, he finds comfort in those who treat him the best or those of the same race. Those who sought to oppress the minority are quickly shunted in his mind and become a potential threat for future engagements in conversation.
Biography Jean-Robin Charpentier was born in the city of Liege, 1898EC, to a middle-class family split between two bloodlines: the Robin and Charpentier family trees. Technically a bastard, due to his parents conceding him before they even considered marriage, Jean faced the strange difficulties of mixing between two different families that he didn't blend in with well. One side was wealthier than the other but the latter consisted of more kind-hearted souls. From a young age, when his mother and father split from one another, still without having married one another, Jean was left to be catered for by his older sister, Olivia, between both families. Several years of arguments between both family names made it all the more confusing as to which ancestry he truly belonged with, causing him to isolate himself. Holding both of their names slightly sickened him, which he started to write down in secrecy in order to satisfy his mind. Eventually, he found comfort in writing down his feelings and eventually used it to construct simple anecdotes or verses from his childhood years. It carried him through education well enough to land him decent grades and an exceptional potential future ahead of him in writing, documenting and publishing small works. However, the year met 1912EC, and the first news came home. War was now declared.
Many of the streets almost paraded at the thought that the two greatest political superpowers, of Autocracy and loose Democracy, where the decider would bring the greatest honour and glory to this new age of warfare. Many businesses were extravagant and excited by the ability to test the new industrial gears in the field of battle, seeing it as a wonderful business opportunity to grow in their economic ranking. And so, many rushed to the volunteering offices when their age was just right and signed up to be the first wave out to war. Amongst the masses who left was Olivia, who promised to bring the worrying Jean back some antiques for him to draw. She also promised to consistently write to him to ensure that the war effort was going in her favour and that she was safe. Only 15 years of age, there was no way he could join her during the first day of enlistment, so he remained alone and isolated back in Liege.
They spent many days writing towards one another. He eventually hit the age of 16 and she congratulated him on getting so far in life. Every now and then, through the post, pictures of her with her squad sitting jovially around campfires, in their dugouts or around an artillery piece were sent back to entertain and bewilder the teenager. He was in a land of fascination every second he spent watching their adventures unfold. But soon, before his 17th birthday, the final letter came through the post. He rummaged through it, acting like an excited school boy, but was met with disappointment and distraught. It was a letter from the Atlantic Federation's ministry of defence, proclaiming that Private Olivia Robin-Charpentier had been shot dead during the Battle of Raloth River whilst crossing with her squad. It was a slaughter. This was the first news of severe death and destruction the young-man had heard, as the propaganda networks were restricting almost all of the bad news coming to the public eye. And soon enough, he reached the age of 17, and the suspicions started to target him.
It started with his family members. White feathers were seen laying on his pillows and bed sheets before appearing on mirror's around his house, labelling him as some sort of coward. He had reached the age in which he should have volunteered already, heading out to the frontline to join the millions of men, women and young adults alike fighting for the freedom of Europa, or so they said. However, once it extended beyond those he was supposed to love and care about, the abuse became thicker. Education and work was near impossible. Everyone in his neighbourhood and district from his city soon started to call him and target him for being the Darcsen Coward of Liege. Many used his own sister's death as a way to explain how his duty wasn't being fulfilled and how Olivia must have been looking down upon him in disappointment. The year spread on to 1914EC when he eventually gave in to the abuse and peer-pressure, enlisting into the Armed Forces of the Atlantic Federation, where he was quickly shipped off to Edinburgh for training.
The training was psychologically and physically strenuous. He couldn't handle the first few weeks and came only a hair-length close to dropping out and abandoning it there and then, but he didn't. He couldn't face the idea of going home and being ridiculed, beaten or neglected entirely by his family and society for quitting the prestigious role of a soldier. He gave in to the pressure and pushed through, hoping to secure himself a place in the 15th Atlantic Rifles, which he did by the end of his month's training. He wasn't entirely sure if he'd learnt any skills that would help him on the frontline, bar knowing how to shoot a rifle and thrust a bayonet. But it was something he'd bypassed and a small sigh of relief was encompassing his every breath. On top of that, the training commander selected him, as well as a select few, to become an acting NCO: here he gained his Chevrons for the Lance Corporal ranking, and was told he would become a great legend on the battlefield. How wrong could they have been, to tell the influential victim such lies?
Affiliations Mother - Helen Robin [Alive] Father - Herman Charpentier [Alive] Sister - Olivia Robin-Charpentier [K.I.A. - Battle of Raloth River]
Banned
