Voltus_Ventus — Roleplayer Guild

I'll just put these here, they're not done yet but wait.

Also, tell me if the sensory stuff is sensory enough, I'm trying to not be super OP. I'd like to be UP, because it's my preferred play style.

Name: John "Jingo" Strange

Gender: Male

Age: 36

Appearance: 

Jingo stands at 6'6", straddling the the border between tall and freakishly tall, he has a long arm and legs (his left arm missing just under the elbow), with wide sloping shoulders. His body is enmeshed in a layer of muscle, he's not a beast but he is lean and the lines and creases of his muscles are well defined. He has fair skin, crisscrossed with scars small and large a like, notably his tattered left ear and his missing left cheek, leaving his teeth and gums exposed to the air. Jingo has a fairly angular head, with a straight jaw and a thin imperial nose, he has shallow seek bones and a tall forehead with worry lines permanently furrowed into them. His eyes are set pleasantly apart, wide and full with large irises; the right eye is grey and has a very dark, defined pupil, the left one is a dull, watery blue. He has a thick shag of hair on top of his head, the color of hay and almost as course, the hair on his scalp is thicker then the hair on the sides of his head, but not by much; he has the remnants of a rough beard running down his right cheek (hiding the on set of wrinkles) and forming a goatee around his lips, though stopping on the left side because of the skin missing from his face.

When not in combat, Jingo wears an off white sleeveless shirt, now a light grey after years of wearing; on his legs he wears a pair of loose, green cargo pants, speckled with spots of paint and general dirt; on his feet he wears leather sandals and atop his head he wears a red cap. On the stump of his left arm he wears a prosthetic arm, made of yellowed plastic with a small, hook shaped set of pincers at the bottom, he controls the pincers easily enough due to a cable attached to a surviving tendon. When in combat, he wears the same cargo pants and shirt but a pair of of boots instead of sandals, with thick woolen thermals underneath everything as it gets very cold in the cockpit of his NC. He wears a tarnished pair of dog tags around his neck, with words stamped into it in a long dead language called Anglish.

Personality: Warm and chirpy, Jingo is an overly loud individual with very few layers to him, he enjoys good company and is good to the company he keeps, loving to joke, play around and generally cause good mannered mayhem. He is fond of bantering and often enjoy's having conversations with people, though being oblivious whether they want him around or not. He is not very perceptive, which is ironic because his role is as a scout, meaning he finds it hard to read people, this makes him overly trusting to people who he thinks are good; outside of that sense however he is very perceptive but around "Civilized" folk who live in owns, he assumes they are all family innocent, him himself having very black and white morals. Though he seems overtly positive all the time, he is prone to frustration and heated bouts of cursing at people; he also has a daydreamy, lost in his own thoughts part of him, though he usually drops out of these when there are people around.

Background: 

Jingo was born in a settlement quite far from Smith's Rest, it was called Falcon Reach, a semi subterranean community built into the side of a white limestone cliff, using the natural tunnels and caves as dwelling. Falcon Reach overlooked a massive salt bed, the dried remains of what was once a sea sprawled out all along it, dotted with the rusting husks of stranded boats and ships. His mother was a miner, along with most of the town, she was a small, asthmatic, eighteen year old girl; his father was a Falconer, one of Falcon Reach's elite. They met by sheer coincidence, when one of his Falcon's flew down the mines and his mother brought it back up, soon afterwards they got married, it didn't take long for the pair to fall in love 

Tactical Preferences/Skills:

Additional Notes:

Code-Name: The Wessex 

Appearance: The Wessex

Body-Plan/Description: When stood in it's standby stance, The Wessex stands at around Eight meters (Twenty-Six and a Quarter feet) high, with the main body suspended by two pneumatic driven legs, Five and a Half meters above the ground (Eighteen feet). As mentioned prior, Wessex is bipedal, though not standing upright the way a human would but appearing to have more of a crouched stance that is common of older model NCs. The main body is made of a Tungsten Steel, with the thickest segment being the front of the command pod at Fifty millimeters (Two inches), followed by the flanks at Twenty-Five millimeters (One inch), and thinest parts being the top and rear at Twelve and a Half millimeters (Half an inch), excellent against small arms, anti-material rifles and small explosives but susceptible to artillery, shoulder fired rockets, prolonged heavy machine-gun fire and high explosives. On either side of the main pod, there is a duel, anti-aircraft Fifteen millimeter cannon arrangement, acting as the arms of the NC, they are just lovely against light/medium armor, personnel and aircraft.

Type/Quality: Compared to other NC's, the Wessex is a rather discreet, quiet machine, that doesn't attract much attention to itself, it has a very long range due to it's light construction and a top running speed of Sixty miles per hour, with an optimum cruising speed of Thirty. Due to the powerful piston arrangements in the legs, the Wessex has the ability to jump Fifteen meters (Fifty feet) and land safely, due to it's radial shock absorbers and independent tread pads. These things taken into account, it makes an excellent scouting platform and light support unit. The Wessex is old but reliable, like most old things, it won't ever fail Jingo but it still has some things that are rather annoying, like how the coolant housing is open to the cockpit and makes the space freezing cold, or how it is very difficult to shoot whilst running. 

Equipment:
- Rhythmic Emission Detector: An onboard system that casts a kind of ultrasonic bubble a large area around The Wessex, the computer detects fluctuations and disturbances in the bubble and displays them on the layered display. This allows the Wessex to detect distant heart beats and engines, using a database to interpret the vibrations and narrow down what they could be, filtering out things like animals, wind and running water.
- High Gain Band Scanner: A radio signal scanner that goes through all available bands and pin points any readable ones, though it does this with relative ease, it doesn't have any means of interpreting the data, leaving the pilot to do so by giving him the list of readable signals. It doesn't read cyphers or decrypts enigmas, that is left for the pilot to do, it can only be used when the NC is stationary.
- Albin-Coxwell HD Film Auto-Cam: A high definition camera with a sixty times optical zoom, the images are stored on highly flammable reels of films stored in the cockpit, the gathered intelligence can be transmitted to other NCs but an antenna has to be raised and can only be raised when stationary. 
- Albin-Coxwell Flying Camsmitter: Fired from a hatch on the top of the NC, it is a rocket propelled cylinder with a camera in it, gathering aerial, birds eye view images of the land below, the transmitter has a one mile range but the images aren't as high definition as the Auto-Cam's. The image is viewed as a constant stream by The Wessex and then stored on a magnetic tape wheel, only one stream of images can be stored per wheel.

Armaments: 
- 2x Dual 15mm Anti-Aircraft Cannons

Notes: Many of the parts are a bit old technologically and can easily be out preformed, but he chose them for reliability and low maintenance, which are both important when going on long excursions. Things like the Thermionic Spark Engine (Doesn't produce enough energy to power everything at once but can power things individually for a long time) or the B-55 Series Neural Bridge (Very sparse programming, meaning most things have to be done out of the link), relatively old pieces of techs but not prone to failing or glitching.

Nikola

Eventually, Nikola found a way down, though it was not the elevator he told himself would be there, instead he had to descend a flight of steps that seemed to go on for infinity, as he climbed down he felt as if he were unconscious, like his body went on auto pilot from the monotony of the task; he mused that if he were to die then he would continue to walk down the stairs. Upon reaching the bottom, he was relieved to feel the glow of sunlight from the windows, a welcome respite from the eery darkness of the long stairwell. Though it seemed that the moments of relief were just the universe's way of making him drop his guard.

Looking around for an exit, he found that the nearest one was a back door, propped shut with a chair, as he approached it, he suddenly found himself being hurled backwards. The wall had exploded into a cloud of cement dust and chunks of debris, sending him flying into a pillar, his body lanced with a blinding, white pain. As his vision cleared and the ringing in his ears died away, he heard the deep, guttural rumble of an engine and felt the floor tremble as the vibration neared, in the cloud he saw the easily distinguishable figure of a spider tank. He panicked and jerked to the left but instantly recoiled in pain, looking down, he found himself pinned to the pillar, a jagged rebar post sticking jaggedly out of his shoulder, right between the dislocated ball and socket joint.

At that moment, his adrenaline that had been expended on the climb down had suddenly returned, the pain that he still felt from crashing into the building was replaced by a deep of fear of dying. He struggled, slowly, trying to free himself of the metal, inching forward slowly and feeling the bar sink into his flesh, grinding abrasively against his bones. Nikola stifled a scream, he knew he must not scream but the pain was intense and he felt like he was going to back out, he could only hope that he could free himself before the tank spotted him.

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The Voltusiest Ventus

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