I put mine down as a combat Engineer, they use explosives, but also do other things.tobi the good boy said:
Aliens RP - Interest thread (CLOSED ALL SHEETS ACCEPTED - Check last page )
- Thread starter Dectomax
- Start date
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This is highly unstable... I'll probably edit some parts in the future.
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Woohoo! French Medic chick!
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Woohoo! French Medic chick!
Name: Astrid Petit
Age:23
Rank (Below Sergeant): Corporal
Appearance: Astrid is 5'5 and lightweight. She appears to be rather tom-boyish at a first glance with her short blonde hair, brown eyes and small chest. She is agile and thin, without any substantial muscle mass.
Weapons- Primary: M41 Pulse Rifle, standard
Secondary: M4A4 Pistol
Misc gear:
* A relic of sorts, a worn out paperback book written in French
*A lightweight version of the standard bullet-proof vest
*A lightweight combat helmet with night goggles attached to it
*A small water purification system (Just Tablets and some cups)
* Two earplugs
* Ballistic goggles
*A flashlight
* Medical equipment:
- A tactical Tourniquet
- Emergency trauma Bandages
- Keflex gauze
- Hemostatic agents (to stop bleeding altogether)
- IV fluids. 4 16 gauge IV catheters
- Alcohol swabs
-Band Aids
-Cravats
-Iodine Swabs
-Nitrile gloves
-Hypodermic needles and syringes
-Morphine, Antibiotics, Tylenol (Mild pain reducer, anti-fever), Pepto Bismol Tablets (for your upset stomachs).
Personality: Astrid joined the military so she could become a doctor. It puts her in a difficult position ? she would prefer to not get shot at, but without conflict there would be no injuries. She is mostly quiet and follows orders. She is caring and will offer help to any soldier in need, regardless of the severity of their injury or illness. She is very stubborn when she puts her mind to it, a quality that shows itself whenever she is working with a patient ? she will not take no for an answer.
Back story:
Astrid wasn't supposed to live past seventeen. At the age of seventeen she had already escaped the failed country that was Haiti and fled to America. As a part of the American Army's new recruitment policy, skilled individuals were absorbed into service. She lied in her form and announced she had been a first year medical student in the University of Port-au-Prince. Doubtful of her qualifications, the military sent her to a series of tests to prove her worth.
She passed with flying colors.
Astrid was born to a family of seven. When she fled Haiti, she left behind three brothers, two sisters and her mother. Her father died when she was seven at an accident in the meat packaging plant he worked at. They had lived in the slums of the new Port-au-Prince, which was built on the remains of the old city razed by an earthquake almost a century ago.
As a young child Astrid was left to the care of her brothers and sisters. She would come with them to the new city and beg for coin, swindle tourists and occasionally take what did not belong to them. Her family was fortunate enough to pay for the rent and the food they ate even after Astrid's father had died. But then the plague struck.
It was like something from an Alber Kami novella. First there were dead rats in the southern slums, near the coast. Then it spread like wildfire through the crowded tin structures and the handful of barely standing brick buildings. When it reached the New City, nobody was safe from it. Jean was the first to get sick. When mother tried calling a doctor, she was told they were all in the new city, tending to the rich. None helped the people huddled together in the slums of the old city, except for one man.
Following the kind doctor around, she tried to get out of the way of her brothers as they worked in every job they could find to afford buying medicine for her sick sibling. The plague got worse and Astrid began to help the doctor in various menial tasks. As he treated the patients, he began teaching her everything she would need to know to help other in his absence.
The year had ended and the plague began to recede. Living rats were spotted in the streets and the rate of deaths dropped. But it was too late for three of Astrid's brothers. Astrid stayed with the kind doctor, as to lessen the load on her mother and learn how to cure others, something she couldn't do for her brothers.
She had embedded their memories on her body, the initials of her three brothers rest on the lower side of her forearm, "JMA". After the passing of her mentor, he gave her one of his greatest treasures to show her that people can still care in this absurd world.
Astrid was received in the USA and sent to the Military. She was trained as a Combat Medic due to her previous experience, and when she had finished with her training she was sent to see combat in space.
Age:23
Rank (Below Sergeant): Corporal
Appearance: Astrid is 5'5 and lightweight. She appears to be rather tom-boyish at a first glance with her short blonde hair, brown eyes and small chest. She is agile and thin, without any substantial muscle mass.
Weapons- Primary: M41 Pulse Rifle, standard
Secondary: M4A4 Pistol
Misc gear:
* A relic of sorts, a worn out paperback book written in French
*A lightweight version of the standard bullet-proof vest
*A lightweight combat helmet with night goggles attached to it
*A small water purification system (Just Tablets and some cups)
* Two earplugs
* Ballistic goggles
*A flashlight
* Medical equipment:
- A tactical Tourniquet
- Emergency trauma Bandages
- Keflex gauze
- Hemostatic agents (to stop bleeding altogether)
- IV fluids. 4 16 gauge IV catheters
- Alcohol swabs
-Band Aids
-Cravats
-Iodine Swabs
-Nitrile gloves
-Hypodermic needles and syringes
-Morphine, Antibiotics, Tylenol (Mild pain reducer, anti-fever), Pepto Bismol Tablets (for your upset stomachs).
Personality: Astrid joined the military so she could become a doctor. It puts her in a difficult position ? she would prefer to not get shot at, but without conflict there would be no injuries. She is mostly quiet and follows orders. She is caring and will offer help to any soldier in need, regardless of the severity of their injury or illness. She is very stubborn when she puts her mind to it, a quality that shows itself whenever she is working with a patient ? she will not take no for an answer.
Back story:
Astrid wasn't supposed to live past seventeen. At the age of seventeen she had already escaped the failed country that was Haiti and fled to America. As a part of the American Army's new recruitment policy, skilled individuals were absorbed into service. She lied in her form and announced she had been a first year medical student in the University of Port-au-Prince. Doubtful of her qualifications, the military sent her to a series of tests to prove her worth.
She passed with flying colors.
Astrid was born to a family of seven. When she fled Haiti, she left behind three brothers, two sisters and her mother. Her father died when she was seven at an accident in the meat packaging plant he worked at. They had lived in the slums of the new Port-au-Prince, which was built on the remains of the old city razed by an earthquake almost a century ago.
As a young child Astrid was left to the care of her brothers and sisters. She would come with them to the new city and beg for coin, swindle tourists and occasionally take what did not belong to them. Her family was fortunate enough to pay for the rent and the food they ate even after Astrid's father had died. But then the plague struck.
It was like something from an Alber Kami novella. First there were dead rats in the southern slums, near the coast. Then it spread like wildfire through the crowded tin structures and the handful of barely standing brick buildings. When it reached the New City, nobody was safe from it. Jean was the first to get sick. When mother tried calling a doctor, she was told they were all in the new city, tending to the rich. None helped the people huddled together in the slums of the old city, except for one man.
Following the kind doctor around, she tried to get out of the way of her brothers as they worked in every job they could find to afford buying medicine for her sick sibling. The plague got worse and Astrid began to help the doctor in various menial tasks. As he treated the patients, he began teaching her everything she would need to know to help other in his absence.
The year had ended and the plague began to recede. Living rats were spotted in the streets and the rate of deaths dropped. But it was too late for three of Astrid's brothers. Astrid stayed with the kind doctor, as to lessen the load on her mother and learn how to cure others, something she couldn't do for her brothers.
She had embedded their memories on her body, the initials of her three brothers rest on the lower side of her forearm, "JMA". After the passing of her mentor, he gave her one of his greatest treasures to show her that people can still care in this absurd world.
Astrid was received in the USA and sent to the Military. She was trained as a Combat Medic due to her previous experience, and when she had finished with her training she was sent to see combat in space.
Name:Sean Murphy
Age:36
Rank: Corporal
Appearance:6'4 feet tall. 260 LBS. of solid muscle. An absolute monstrosity of a man. has a standard high and tight haircut, and wears standard Marine armor, except he has it completely customized with random designs and symbols painted on it. Has a deep scar running vertically through his left eye. His Helmet has born to kill written on it.
Weapons: M56 Smartgun, and a Kukri with a handmade set of spiked brass knuckles as a grip. which is sheathed on his lower back
Misc gear: Prostetic eye, that can be used to record what he sees, and can switches modes to night vision, and infrared. (similar to predators mask) also carrys 2 extra power cells for his Smartgun secretly
Personality:a secluded man for part of his life, he dosent like people other than his squad which he sees as his family. He feels like a big brother to everyone else due to his size even to the Sarge. He is very protective of his squad. Not very smart but what he lacks in brain he more than makes up in brawn. Has neerly super human strength
Back story: Born in Dublin he was part of a street gang and got caught carrying a gun. Sent to jail for 5 years he spent most his time in Isolation for violent behavior. he spent all his time working out and when he got out he could easily deadlift the front of a car. He joined the Marines a while later under a fake identity to hide his criminal record. Only his squad knows his true past
Age:36
Rank: Corporal
Appearance:6'4 feet tall. 260 LBS. of solid muscle. An absolute monstrosity of a man. has a standard high and tight haircut, and wears standard Marine armor, except he has it completely customized with random designs and symbols painted on it. Has a deep scar running vertically through his left eye. His Helmet has born to kill written on it.
Weapons: M56 Smartgun, and a Kukri with a handmade set of spiked brass knuckles as a grip. which is sheathed on his lower back
Misc gear: Prostetic eye, that can be used to record what he sees, and can switches modes to night vision, and infrared. (similar to predators mask) also carrys 2 extra power cells for his Smartgun secretly
Personality:a secluded man for part of his life, he dosent like people other than his squad which he sees as his family. He feels like a big brother to everyone else due to his size even to the Sarge. He is very protective of his squad. Not very smart but what he lacks in brain he more than makes up in brawn. Has neerly super human strength
Back story: Born in Dublin he was part of a street gang and got caught carrying a gun. Sent to jail for 5 years he spent most his time in Isolation for violent behavior. he spent all his time working out and when he got out he could easily deadlift the front of a car. He joined the Marines a while later under a fake identity to hide his criminal record. Only his squad knows his true past
I believe I might not sign up for this one, I attempted to write a sheet but my brain was fried searching for what to really to put on it and If I can't write a good character, I can't play a good one.Dectomax said:
So who's in so far?Dectomax said:
That's possibly the most Irish name you could have given him without including an O'y...Angus Young said:
But more importantly, Kukri buddies, hurray!
binnsyboy said:
Haha all I did was take the two first names of the Boondock Saints
and thats funny I didnt know your char had a Kukri. its my personal blade of choice
SteelStallion said:
. I am clueless in the Imperial System so I wasn't too sure on the height and weight ratio. Which number should I bump up, the weight? And by how much?EDIT:Actually, I think I'll change him to being scrawny to fit in with the theme of his character. How scrawny is my character?
And yeah I guess I already made a pop-culture reference xD.
On Saturday, I'll be roller-blading with my friends for a bit so expect a reply, if we start by then, in Saturday dawn GMT.
Aaah I see. Well that's what I was aiming for! Someone skinny, not too skinny, and tall!SteelStallion said:Well he's not anorexic or anything, 6'2 is pretty tall for 180lb so he's skinny and tall. He could be skinny but still be toned with muscle (athletic), as long as that 180lb isn't too much body fat.Nouw said:SteelStallion said:Thank you for noticing that now
EDIT:Actually, I think I'll change him to being scrawny to fit in with the theme of his character. How scrawny is my character?
And yeah I guess I already made a pop-culture reference xD.
.BeerTent said:
She's very dedicated! Don't belittle my petit Astrid !
If you're hurt, she'll defend you to the end.
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But the pilot can't die! Without him we can't leave the station... Or are we even supposed to leave?
Here you go, if you don't like this one and are still looking for characters let me know, I've a couple more ideas.
Name: Padrick "One-Shot" Larkin
Age: 30
Rank (Below Sergeant): Corporal
Appearance: Padrick is about 6' tall, but is very thin and has a gaunt look. His hair is jet black, which contrasts strongly with his pale skin. He has tribal tattoos running up one side of his face and his eyes have been described as "Empty and soulless, with a cold dead stare". He wears a lighter scout version of the M3 armour with a necklace made from an old rabbits foot. The words "One Shot One Kill are inscribed on the side of his rifle and his armour has some strange markings on it, which he claims are ancient blessings from his ancestors.
Weapons: M42C Sniper Rifle with adjustable scope for close quarters aiming, M4A4 Pistol with Anti-Personnel and Armor Piercing ammo, Proximity triggered explosives (if possible), Large combat knife "size of a machete" strapped to his back and grenades.
Misc gear: Lucky rabbits foot, Goggles with nightvision, infrared and wireless link to scope on rifle, a motion sensor and basic med kit.
Personality: Padrick has a tendency to be cold and distant, but if engaged in conversation he has a tendency to be short and rude with people. He has lost much of his faith and now only continues to serve because it is the only life he knows. He has severe trust issues, going so far as to really only trust the squad he is with to cover his back, just as he will for them. As a rule he refuses to let people get close. He is extremely proud of his marksmanship and considers any shot he misses to be a personal insult against him, from anything that could have affected his shot.
Back story: Padrick was raised on a small mining colony on a small barren world. From an early age he was told storys by his parents of the lush green islands his ancestors once lived on. He was so fascinated by these tails once he was old enough he joined the USCM in the hopes he would one day find a place such as his parents described. He was quickly noticed for his expert marksmanship and was sent to train as a sniper. It was in training he met his future spotter Baz and they became quick friends. For years they worked as a team, sometimes on large scale operations and sometime with just the two of them, always making it through even the toughest of missions. Until just over a year ago, it was supposed to be a routine assassination mission. They were suppossed to just slip in, kill a rebel leader and get out, but due to bad intelligence they were ambushed. Padrick escaped but Baz didn't. Since then he has had severe trust issues with non-field commanders. He has also taking to working alone and refuses to team up with a new spotter, but under orders he has agreed to join the squad investigating the distress call.
Age: 30
Rank (Below Sergeant): Corporal
Appearance: Padrick is about 6' tall, but is very thin and has a gaunt look. His hair is jet black, which contrasts strongly with his pale skin. He has tribal tattoos running up one side of his face and his eyes have been described as "Empty and soulless, with a cold dead stare". He wears a lighter scout version of the M3 armour with a necklace made from an old rabbits foot. The words "One Shot One Kill are inscribed on the side of his rifle and his armour has some strange markings on it, which he claims are ancient blessings from his ancestors.
Weapons: M42C Sniper Rifle with adjustable scope for close quarters aiming, M4A4 Pistol with Anti-Personnel and Armor Piercing ammo, Proximity triggered explosives (if possible), Large combat knife "size of a machete" strapped to his back and grenades.
Misc gear: Lucky rabbits foot, Goggles with nightvision, infrared and wireless link to scope on rifle, a motion sensor and basic med kit.
Personality: Padrick has a tendency to be cold and distant, but if engaged in conversation he has a tendency to be short and rude with people. He has lost much of his faith and now only continues to serve because it is the only life he knows. He has severe trust issues, going so far as to really only trust the squad he is with to cover his back, just as he will for them. As a rule he refuses to let people get close. He is extremely proud of his marksmanship and considers any shot he misses to be a personal insult against him, from anything that could have affected his shot.
Back story: Padrick was raised on a small mining colony on a small barren world. From an early age he was told storys by his parents of the lush green islands his ancestors once lived on. He was so fascinated by these tails once he was old enough he joined the USCM in the hopes he would one day find a place such as his parents described. He was quickly noticed for his expert marksmanship and was sent to train as a sniper. It was in training he met his future spotter Baz and they became quick friends. For years they worked as a team, sometimes on large scale operations and sometime with just the two of them, always making it through even the toughest of missions. Until just over a year ago, it was supposed to be a routine assassination mission. They were suppossed to just slip in, kill a rebel leader and get out, but due to bad intelligence they were ambushed. Padrick escaped but Baz didn't. Since then he has had severe trust issues with non-field commanders. He has also taking to working alone and refuses to team up with a new spotter, but under orders he has agreed to join the squad investigating the distress call.
If it helps any, I neglected to take into account the Combat Engineer, so the Grenade Launcher can be replaced with a flamethrower and the contents of the bandolier can be adjusted accordingly. A Pyromaniac isn't a far stretch from an explosives nut.
Misc Gear:Knife from home that was used to cut him.
Flares.
Grenades. (Not used.)
Appearance:On the front of his helmet it says 'Killing is my Business' and on the back it says '...And Business is Good.'
Backstory: During his first BCT, he wasn't the only one that got picked on. He knew of someone else who was a complete loner that was even skinnier than him. When the majority weren't picking on him, they were picking on Vic. One day during a combat simulation with live weapons, one of the recruits threw an armed grenade at the loner. His legs blew off and because the simulation took place on a large area, it took 3 hours for a medic to reach him. The fire from the opposing team also made it difficult to treat the wounded man. Shooting a medic was strictly prohibited in the simulation but they were ignoring the rule to see the man suffer. Vic was next to the man while he suffered from the grenade for 3 hours. For 3 hours Vic had to witness the pain and agony of the man. It convinced Vic never to use grenades, hence why he wrote 'Rust in Peace.'
Personality: Vic believes that the USCM is more of a business rather than an actual military organization made to protect the United Americas. He believes this because the volunteers get paid to fight and that poverty is often a reason to enlist. Such as himself. 'Paid Volunteer' is an oxymoron as he believes therefore it is his morals that the USCM and any volunteer army is not truly free. This is why he wrote 'Killing is My Business...And Business is Good' on his helmet.
Flares.
Grenades. (Not used.)
Appearance:On the front of his helmet it says 'Killing is my Business' and on the back it says '...And Business is Good.'
Backstory: During his first BCT, he wasn't the only one that got picked on. He knew of someone else who was a complete loner that was even skinnier than him. When the majority weren't picking on him, they were picking on Vic. One day during a combat simulation with live weapons, one of the recruits threw an armed grenade at the loner. His legs blew off and because the simulation took place on a large area, it took 3 hours for a medic to reach him. The fire from the opposing team also made it difficult to treat the wounded man. Shooting a medic was strictly prohibited in the simulation but they were ignoring the rule to see the man suffer. Vic was next to the man while he suffered from the grenade for 3 hours. For 3 hours Vic had to witness the pain and agony of the man. It convinced Vic never to use grenades, hence why he wrote 'Rust in Peace.'
Personality: Vic believes that the USCM is more of a business rather than an actual military organization made to protect the United Americas. He believes this because the volunteers get paid to fight and that poverty is often a reason to enlist. Such as himself. 'Paid Volunteer' is an oxymoron as he believes therefore it is his morals that the USCM and any volunteer army is not truly free. This is why he wrote 'Killing is My Business...And Business is Good' on his helmet.
I welcome all critique with a grin and a hugTheIronRuler said:
.[sub]All I could do is make racist French jokes which I don't want to because fuck that, Viva La France![/sub]
.Angus Young said:
I never did get it... Why would you do that? If it's given to you, you replace it with others when they get damaged.