Mega Birb

A Tale of Thieves - Part One; Running and Hiding

Bam, I did something.

A Tale of Thieves - Part One; Running and Hiding

Soren smirked as he clambered over a familiar fallen board in one of his favorite positions for hunting his targets, the rafters of an old, neglected warehouse that provided a surprisingly serene view of the chaos that was the Circuit's market. He knew his quarry would be somewhere on the western edge of the bazaar-like area, and set up on the eastern side of the building to compensate. He set his rifle on the crate beside him and sat down, pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat, and...
'Shit.' He only had one left, and needed it for when he pulled the trigger. Personally, he believed they steadied his nerves. Medical professionals said otherwise, but he'd never missed a shot while smoking. 'Well, better not break the streak now.' The marksman got up and started to pace, then noticed a stark white slip of paper tacked to the northern wall after a few rounds across the beams he'd become accustomed to walking.
'That wasn't there last week, who the hell got up here..?' He slowly made his way over, carefully stepping over a few rotted planks he'd made the mistake of falling through several times before, and grinned at a fresh hole in the floor. 'Well, he didn't get out unscathed, I know that much.' The sniper swiped the note from the wall and read it over, mouthing out the words.
'Come to the coffee shop north of your blind after you complete your business. I'll be waiting for you, Hox. Signed, a paying customer.' This had suspicion written all over it, but he needed another regular contractor. One was nice, but that one was a semi-psychotic arms and drug dealer with a thick accent. A sane contractor would be a nice change of pace.
Soren glanced down at his watched and smiled. Zero hour. He picked up the sniper rifle he had rested on a crate and lit his final cigarette, stuck the end between is lips, took aim at his target through the large hole in the wall, ran a few quick calculations, and squeezed the trigger. All that was left of the poor sod after the bang was a cloud of pink mist and a stump for a head. Dead in a heartbeat.
With the clean kill, Soren left the warehouse like he had left it, destined for a meeting in a coffee shop down the street.

A Tale of Thieves - Part One; Running and Hiding

@PhoenixWhite Oh, sorry for the misunderstanding. I'll have something up for tomorrow.

A Tale of Thieves - Part One; Running and Hiding

*Waits for dossier*

Miss. Dawson's Home for the Truly Gifted [Reboot] (Closed)

Sorry, I really just haven't had any inspiration to post lately. I'll have something up tomorrow.

Miss. Dawson's Home for the Truly Gifted [Reboot] (Closed)

Does Roberta even have bones? Honest question.

Miss. Dawson's Home for the Truly Gifted [Reboot] (Closed)

It's quiet... too quite.

Mass Effect: Stories of the Soldiers

I'd say the ship.

A Tale of Thieves - Part One; Running and Hiding

Yay, I got approved! Now I'm just waiting on the dossier.

A Tale of Thieves - Part One; Running and Hiding

DESCRIPTION
Name: Soren Hoxellion

Moniker: Hox

Race: Human

Age: 37

Archetype: Marksman

SKILLS
Marksmanship – Soren is the very definition of a sniper. Patience, steadiness, and just enough paranoia to remind him that someone’s probably about to stick a knife between his shoulder blades while he’s aiming.

Silence – He can go from loud and obnoxious to as quiet as a church mouse if need be. He makes no noise, it’s the high-caliber sniper rifle on his back that creates all the ruckus.

Lockpicking – Some call it redundant in today’s age. Soren calls it a very specific skill for very specific tasks. He’s found that the belfries of the Circuit’s churches are often guarded by nothing but faith and an old tumbler lock, and picked up the skill for that reason.

ATTRIBUTES
Intelligent – In a mathematical sense, Soren is a genius, since the lack of a spotter leaves him to do his aiming and calculations for himself. He failed English in high school, however.

Agile – He’s no contortionist, but his thin frame and inherit quickness make him a hard target.

EQUIPMENT
-PGS1 Sniper Rifle, illegally modified in several ways. Collapsible.
-9mm Handgun.
-Butterfly knife, kept in near-pristine condition.

BACKGROUND
Born to a middle class family in Polis, Soren grew up wondering what lied below the metropolis he called home. He had heard of an anarchy underneath his feet that threatened his rigid, law-abiding lifestyle. As a native of Polis, he’d be a prime target if the lack of government underneath him surged upward. He became scared of the big “What if?”
The moment he turned eighteen, he signed up to become a member of the police that watched the city like hawks, day in and day out, driven by his fear of the Circuit. His application was accepted with little consideration, the only thing standing out was the fact that he scored in the 99th Percentile on his most recent mathematic exam. He was handed a rifle, a hand gun, and a knife, then was given no spotter, and told to be a “Conflict resolution expert that worked from over a mile away.” He excelled at his task, never missing a shot when a life depended on it. The problem was, he hated taking orders from his commanding officers.
Eventually, after receiving an order to execute someone accused of treason and becoming ridden with guilt after learning the woman was a poor mother of three, Sorin delved head-first into what he feared most, only taking his rifle, pistol, knife, and the clothes on his back with him. He’d lost faith in the walls the once kept him safe, and now intended to break them down himself. He’s sold himself out in more ways than he’d like to mention, assassinated more people than he could keep track of, and has been stabbed three times.
He had been nursing the most recent wound when his most frequent contractor, a native to the Circuit going by the moniker “Volk,” contacted him with a new target. So he got up, grabbed his weaponry and cigarettes, and headed out of the old, furnished shipping container he called home. Then he reviewed standard procedure for sniping, something that’s stuck with him since day one of the police academy. Take a position, wait for the target, line your shot up, and run like hell after the bang.
It’s a simple process, really.