Liaison

Ferris "Roach" Caldwell

Roach

Name: Ferris "Roach" Caldwell
Height: 5’11
Weight 203 lbs
Race: Human
Age: 38
Influence: ⁽³⁾ Regional

Personality

Eldritch abominations, specters, demons. These all attracted him. His fascination with the unknown was frankly unhealthy. So unhealthy, he often found himself in harm's way for knowledge sake. Despite this, his yearning for the truth was unwavering, often using science to aid him. Just the prospect of learning about abnormal creatures and entities excited him, so much, that he’d often conjure ways to systematically kill them. There is no way to obscurely put this; Ferris Caldwell was indeed a serial killer. Even if it were for scholarly reasons, at most he could say at least he didn’t kill humans. He was very much interested in the human mind, however, but he studied them through principles that were considered for the most part moral in comparison.

What made this individual truly terrifying is that he often hid behind a charismatic persona, and on a regular basis lured individuals to help him with his dangerous research.

Appearance

Currently, Ferris was your average looking middle aged Caucasian male. His unkempt locks of mousy hair were probably his most signature trait. His dark brown eyes were bagged but no more than the average sleep deprived 9 to 5er. He usually wore a long coat to conceal his equipment but other than that he appeared to be quite the normal guy.

Abilities

⁽⁴⁾ Parasitic intervention: To be honest, Ferris escapades often failed more so than succeeded. Had he not developed this method of survival by working with the cells of a symbiotic entity he might have been long gone. Several years ago he developed a way to actively convert his consciousness into data. Were he to be slain, which has happened half a dozen times already, he could be essentially revived by “uploading” his brain into the consciousness of another individual. In order for the transfer to be successful, this parasitic data-mongering creature had to be present within the individual’s brain in order to rewire and upload his sentience. In theory, all he had to do was set up and insert strands of the parasite into another individual's brain before edgework to set up potential host bodies in the event of his future demise. Essentially, he can only initiate the transfer if the person is within a 75,000 mile radius. If not, his conciousness is essentially left in its data server for who knows how long.

⁽³⁾ Parasitic stasis: Because this body of his currently housed by the parasitic hive of property changing microorganisms, his body naturally differed from your run of the mill human. Since prolific in his brain and bloodstream, they worked essentially like super versions of his own cells. They effectively empowered white blood cells to metabolize poison, absorbed radiation, increased healing to levels in which you could watch in real time and even enhanced his senses and physical feats well above what is expected from a human.

Items

⁽²⁾ M9C Magnum – (2x) This model is a semi-automatic, recoil-operated, magazine-fed handgun. It has a double-action only, trigger and fires the M228 12.7mmx40mm SAP-HP round (Semi-Armor Piercing, High Penetration) from a 12 round magazine. It has a high rate of fire at 6 rounds/sec or 360 rounds/min. It uses the short recoil principle, meaning that during firing the bolt face and barrel recoil back a very short distance before unlocking and cycling. Because it is semi-automatic, the gun is self-cocking due to recoil from the previous shot (until the magazine is empty).

⁽²⁾ Thermite Charge – (2x) these charges rely on a chemical process between metal powders and oxides to create high temperatures, with no explosion. Commonly, Aluminum and Iron (III) Oxide are used in the reaction. Thermite can reach temperatures upwards of 2500 °C (4500 °F) and is often used to melt through a wide range of things extremely quickly. The most practical use for these sort of charges is to quickly gain entrance to locked areas.

⁽¹⁾ Grappling Gun –(1x) a line launching, handgun like device used by Ferris that fired retractable and detachable cables with a mechanized, magnetic, clawed end. Rarely was this used on individuals but it was definitely within its means to constrict them.

⁽²⁾ Fragmentation Grenade – (2x) an all-purpose grenade. The grenade has a hard metal casing, with a frangible design meant to break apart into small, regular shards. This surface creates consistent, reliable fragmentation patterns for the grenade, rather than randomly rupturing along metallurgical faults. The grid-shaped casing houses a charge of high-explosive fitted with a mechanical primer. When the charge detonates, it shatters the grenade's casing, sending shrapnel flying away at high velocity with an explosive force capable of damaging the mightiest of metals.

⁽¹⁾ Standard Kit – an oversized scalpel he often used like a combat knife, empty syringes(4), standard smoke grenade, and EMP charge.

No God's Sky

The last time Cigány visited Gereza a substantial amount of its massive staff had to be replaced for a bevy of reasons that were borderline asinine. Ranging from general dismissal, resignation, injuries and even death, just the thought of her alone was enough to induce chills down every worker's spine. It was hard for Yamel to process just how fast things had occurred. Just minutes before it resembled any other day and now it had to potential to be his last on the job. Depending on how he answered could affect his entire life going forward and neither Mado-Keno nor Sinclair was in sight to save him. Somewhere deep in one of his several hearts, he knew he like eighty percent of the staff here were expendable. Despite this, he still had the strength to look into her menacing set of pupilless eyes.

Awfully nervous, Yamel responded to his towering superior knowing anything he said could be taken out of context and have him possibly prosecuted.

“Mado-Keno is in his office, Vhadgeid…. Let me show you the way.”

Yamel Tao’Zoag emitted such strong feelings of fear she could even analyze his train of thought in detail through their empathetic bond. Feeling somewhat in a giving mood, she figured the embarrassment of knowing she could see through him alone was enough. Prior to dismissing him, Cigány continued her leering gaze before spontaneously turning to the entrance of the grand elevator.

“No, several of my accompanying escadrille unit will suffice.”

To Yamel’s delight, he was not scolded. Graciously he counted his blessings, especially since Cigány failed to notice his abundance of pooling sweat behind his desk. (At least he thought) So far everything went well considering her abrasive tendencies. He could finally exhale once the shaft closed. He looked across the lobby to see the trail of Gereza guards she had used a doormat and whispered to them.

“Don’t. Get. Up.”

Considering several of them were on the verge of passing out, a great idea sprung into Yamel’s head. Earlier Cigány demanded he find a perpetrator for the miscommunication involving Sinclair’s absence. There might be a few candidates right in front of him.

The doors opened on one of the lower levels and instantly her voluptuous scent allured many of the traditionally jailed prisoners behind bars. Also enticed by the scent was Mado-Keno, but his reaction differed enormously from the prisoners who were salivating. He was instantly put on high alert.

“This is bad… Must hide”

Cigány stormed into the office but noticed no one was there. She could definitely sense him but the main desk remained vacant. She walked up to the desk and spread apart a few papers until something caught her eye. It appeared to be a personal journal Mado-keno had just written in. On the left was a doodle of a vaguely familiar robot, but on the right read “This is a drag. That §3 unit is only going to make me have to do actual work until Sinclair returns. I need a break...”

Intrigued in more ways than one, Cigány realized it would be best if she took over the entire complex in the meantime. It would be effective the minute she informed Mado-Keno, should he actually make an appearance. Though she wasn’t aware of it, Mado-Keno was indeed in the room. He was an expert in camouflage and even masking his aura. The amazing spot he chose was none other than in-between the wall and the door female Cizran had just moments ago opened. He silently gasped when he realized she was going through the journal but neither she nor the Escadrille noticed. He was relieved but there was no way for him to escape considering the door was guarded.

“I hate my job” he sighed to himself, rolling all of his eyes while staring at the ceiling.

Worst of all Cigány perched herself at his desk and began to go through his personal logs. What she’d find wasn’t incriminating but certainly embarrassing to say the least. Simultaneously she also became aware of the incoming transfer of prisoners expected from Admiral Nenegin. As events unfolded, she was bound to find out why he would ultimately arrive uncharacteristically late.

Killimara was in the face of extinction level event after event, and as it appeared, many lives were not in the position to be spared. Aredemos attempted to save face but the reality was he should have reacted much sooner. In fact, for a being who apparently watched over all of the Killimaran’s it was almost unfathomable how irresponsible he had acted.

Kaan meticulously crafted the page of Aldaraia he sent forward to be interacted with by only one individual. That individual was definitively not Aredemos. The second he pierced the page Kaan’s mercy had been affronted. This was something the lich did not take lightly. Ironically, the only souls prepared to be salvaged were the ones whose minds had already been linked with Kaan’s. Something was coming and it had nothing to do with Kaan aside from perhaps his tendency to draw horrible misfortune like a magnet.

The Killimaran’s God wanted to free them by destroying their stones but his efforts were undoubtedly in vain. A sound like howling winds erupted west. Overhead a flurry of what appeared to be rapidly flowing strands of green tinted circus clouds swiftly traveled overhead. This wasn’t an odd weather pattern by any chance. Basic analysis confirmed this was, in fact, visual representations of howling Killimaran souls traveling through the air towards, Kaans location. The amalgamation of moving clouds created a profile in its crevices, sneering down upon Kirri and Aredemos.

“This….is…the… end” the collective howls worded, but the end Kaan had in mind would not be inflicted; at least not entirely. Before he could collect any more souls Kaan felt his presence being homed in on by an unknown force and as Aldaraia was collected so was he. The deployed konul seized any opportunity he had to acquire the majority of the souls but at this point Kaan gained a sufficient amount of strength and everything at this point was just extra. Anything in the vicinity of Killimaran space would only watch on and marvel at the event of a Konul strike.

When the book arrived it was abundant with spiritual presence. Silexies desired item had coincidentally been acquired and was coming right to him on Cizra-Suh Lahn. Had he known this, Eal Sermonde would have never been released to retrieve it. Word of the discovery was bound to get to him but as of now Silexies remained uninformed. Even if he tried to inform Sinclair to call it off he wouldn’t have gotten an answer anyhow. Their communication link was suspiciously blocked. Sinclair and Eal’s whereabouts were very much unknown. Sinclair did not have the mental means of deflecting Silexies psychic waves so it was possible that they were, in reality, plotting something.

---

Interview One
_________________________________

“He’s not much larger than average height I’d say. It’s weird you ask about him. I’ve always known him to be somewhat reclused. When outsiders come around here it’s usually to investigate some urban legend we have floating around.”

“Interesting, tell me what you can about this creature around here.”

“So you want to know about ‘it’ eh?”

“Of course”

“It's fabled to ride a black steed through the countryside
and whenever it stops a mortal man dies.
An Angel of Death who’s worthy of dread;
dressed all in black and lacking a head.
In its possession is a spine that he'll use as a whip.
In the other a scythe that will cut to the quick.
If you chance to observe it you may be struck blind
and still, think yourself lucky that he left you behind.
If it pulls on the reins and it finds you outdoors
your heart will stop dead and will beat nevermore.
There are buckets of blood where the Dullahan rides.
On all Hallows Eve, you had best be inside.”

“That sounds like an old Celtic tale.”

“Well, it is.”

“I want genuine facts.”

“Well, I suppose I could inform you more for some spare change.”

“Seriously…Fine.”

“Well, Gold is the wooden stake and silver bullet to Dullahans. Despite everyone knowing this, one very much lives on. I’ve seen it do things. Incredible things. Things no human could dream of.”

“Well, spit it out.”

“I suppose I ought to begin with its abilities”

Incineration/Intellect

“I’ve seen it do just about anything with fire. They say its manipulation of the element is limited only by its imagination”

“I would imagine it thinks on entirely different level than us mortal folks, huh?”

“Wouldn’t count it out”

Darkness

“For sure its powers are linked with darkness and perhaps more. I think they’re somehow physical. It’s scary how I’ve seen shadows leap off the ground and grab objects, animals, and people even. Fairly large ones too!”

“How often do you see it?”

Pace

“I’ve seen it once or twice, at least I think so. Sometimes it's here and gone in the blink of an eye. Amazing huh.”

“You ever saw it talk?”

Curses

“Don’t you know it’s a bad omen to even encounter them. Ya think I’m crazy enough to try to converse with it?”

“What if I told you I suspect someone in your town was secretly this creature and I'm trying to uncover out who?”

Deception

"I'd say it couldn't be. Then I would say you have a deathwish. Well, that would explain why we have so much bad luck around here...”

Interview Two
_________________________________

ATHLETIC AESTHETICS (Doc Vs. Negatomsk)

<Snipped quote by Liaison>

And you have an uncanny knack for being douchewaffle. So I guess we are even.

@Geraven

I barely converse with you so the chances are I dont fit whatever that means. I also am known for playing fair and being generally a reasonable person to work with. I just constantly watch you place judgment on others from the sideline. Dont point animosity towards me. I'm just saying what others should have said by now. Dont stereotype an entire community just because you feel away about one or two members. I've seen you do that to multiple communities. Just pump the breaks a bit and dont think to hard.

ATHLETIC AESTHETICS (Doc Vs. Negatomsk)

With all the forum people that have tossed their two cents in so far...I'd say he's spot on in the "sheep" comment.

@Geraven

You do this far too often and I'm going to have to call you out on this. So quick to loop everyone in a box or category. Shame shame.

Sea of Ignominy

Animosity was in the air. The disdain for Megalodon on Soran was fiery and blatant. The retaliation effort only added gasoline to the fire. The ethereal beam blitzing through the sky only served as the ultimate catalyst.

The longer the beam concentrated the whiter the shark’s eyes appeared, the coarser his scales were, the further his veins bulged, the more defined his muscles became. Where it was clear that he was in pain, initially it would have an opposing effect than anyone could have possibly anticipated.

As extensions of energy entrapped the beast, Amphiprioninae remained rather calm, nefariously in anticipation of something. Having had successfully fend off The Disciple, the fish was more than prepared to deflect Singar’s words at the ‘door’ with his natural corrosive psychic barrier. The shark, however, was affected immediately and through he resisted the beam, midnight fog and Singars voice all at once he was taking crippling amounts of stress.

The fog was beginning to affect him but it wasn’t the end. As bad as the situation may have looked, this all served a purpose. Amphiprioninae used Megalodon’s highly resistant body to analyze the supernatural forces affecting him in as minuscule of detail as cell by cell. He did this simultaneously as if it were happening to him. By symbiotic nature, he could sense and analyze every aspect of his partner including the mind, body, and soul. With this, he identified and infiltrated what was right in front of him.

And there it was…Direct traces to Singars life energy and mind. The second Singar began lecturing Megalodon he realized his connection was becoming somewhat murky, almost like water. Perched on the rock and mesmerized by his own dastardly actions, Singar would notice abnormalities within the lake of flesh before him. It was almost as if something was swimming in it…In fact, something was. It was very tiny almost like a fish! It couldn’t possibly be but it actually was. His orange and white stripes of scales were as clear as day.

Amphiprioninae sprung out the lake like a flying fish in a fashion that appeared as if he was going to ram the demon but it was not feasible considering how small he was. The closer the clownfish got the larger he appeared to grow. In addition, the murkier the surrounding area appeared and felt around Singar.

In a few seconds, Amphiprioninae now dwarfed Singar and he could feel himself at this moment submerged within a giant mass of dark water. Whipping his tail which alone was several times larger than Singar, the fish imposed a force that could potentially mash the demon across the rocks like a mere bug. Singar didn’t realize it initially but he was figuratively in Amphiprioninae’s bowl. Using and imitating what he had analyzed, the fish successfully opened a back door to Singars mind by meticulously picking apart the midnight fog. Now he openly engaged him in a battle of psychic warfare made physical in this pseudo-realm he created. It was a spectacle Amphiprioninae rarely resorted to but he needed answers and if not satisfied he’d prefer to carry out his mission on his lonesome.

Having flipped the situation he began mocking Singar with his words.

“You’ve taken something from us Singar… Won't you give it back.”

Where would that leave Megalodon? At the moment he was under a tremendous amount of stress and as his cohort was occupied in engaging their target. You would think he had to defend the glass but it was powerful enough to resist the damage because of one reason. It had the sufficiency of an entire realm keeping it whole. The same realm Singar was now being engaged in. Unless that was shattered from within physical attempts were futile on delivery.

This left the shark alone and because of this, there was no restriction on his power…There was nothing the shark could do besides what he only knew.

The metal composed of his right arm hummed with the intake of energy. Nearing the end of the attack, it was luminous in appearance but surprisingly not damaged. Containing many of the qualities of Draedamantium, it resisted the energy well. Afterward, the ridiculously tight woven fibers began to multiply and grew to an enormous size. If anything this was a sign of things to come. He curled his fist into a tight grip, signaling Megalodon was still strong despite being charred. This was the exact moment when he began exhibiting the effects of what he had been doing not even days prior.

Releasing a roar potent enough to blow Sarach and Agron back if unguarded, Megalodon blasted a hole in the fog strong enough to disperse it by force elsewhere for the time being, though that was not its intention. Megalodons skin began to bubble uncontrollably, signaling growth. His insides and nerves were jolting with kilowatts upon kilowatts of energy, signaling something incredible about to take place. One by one he began exhibiting the traits of the thousands of Val’gara he has consumed. The shark’s muscular structure expanded rapidly before fitting his now simmering skin and bionic arm snuggly

He was now even larger than the of the duo before him and because his mind was completely detached from everything he only saw their presence as one thing. Food. Without thought, his reaction to the soaring tail was a simple one. As it came slamming towards him he’d garner grips on the tail with his indestructible maw, quickly pulling them downwards in the earth like an incoming missile. On impact, the ground shook and softened to the point where a large portion began to flow like a sea of sand sloping downwards to the east. This seismic activity endangered the passages as a whole and if not stopped could lead to utter destruction of the entire area and eventually further. Gripping the tail, he transferred the energy through his hundreds of rows of teeth that channeled it like a lightning rod into his bottomless pit of a stomach where it was never to be seen again. That was far from the most impressive feat in his actions, however.

The fact that he could whip either beast around like a great white with an helpless surfer within the sand was a feat of pure unmatched strength. He threatened to rip the beast to shreds. Tasting the blood, it was the beginning of an unorchestrated rampage only the shark was capable of. If not stopped Soran as a planet could be in danger.

Megalodon’s Bloodlust had been reignited.

TZDL2017 Rules/Signups/Updates

The ideology in which DLL speaks of in regard to energies is one I personally follow myself because its basically common sense.(Rather it should be)