Post by Mark on May 31, 2009 23:49:36 GMT -5
Yellow Jacket, Dromedary Camel, Brown Pelican, Bull Shark, 48 posts ~ Leroy's Note
Name: Mark Lonile (law-nil)
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Appearance: Standing just under six feet, Mark has short brown hair and brown eyes. He’s somewhat broad shouldered, but this is offset by a gauntness to his features. There is a touch of pain that is visible in his eyes even when he’s apparently happy.
He usually wears worn jeans and a t-shirt, with a surplus field jacket over top of this when it gets cold. Though not overly thrilled with the ‘skin tight’ demands of morphing he also has a black underarmor shirt and tight running pants that he wears when he thinks he’ll be working.
Personality: In a word, thorough. If he starts something he comes back to finish it even if he does get distracted by another project or problem. He is also careful, his past life teaching him that people who don’t take care tend to meet more accidents. This is not to say that he is slow however, just methodical. Despite his age, he doesn't remember much of his years after leaving the surface and is mentally quite young.
He has an intense hatred of all yeerks, nothlit or not, and refuses to deal with or trust them if he can avoid it. He is stubborn, to a fault, when he believes he’s correct but has been known to change his mind in the face of overwhelming opposition. He does have a tendency to think ahead, often two or three steps if he thinks there’s a no win situation, but rarely shares his plans with people he doesn’t trust. As this is a short list, this usually means he finds it easier to work alone. To quote him “Even if I didn’t have this taint, I’d still be a bit of a loner.”
Biography: Life began rather well. Though not a perfect student, Mark managed well enough to get accepted to a decent college with scholarships covering about half the cost. He made some good friends early on that he’d somehow manage to keep for the rest of his time there and by the end of his first year he met the woman he would fall in love with and eventually marry. By the time he graduated he’d gotten a contract job on a nearby military base doing weapons performance tests, which coincided well with his engineering major. A month after graduation, he married his sweetheart and the two managed, barely, to buy a house. By the time a year went by he had shown an aptitude for field testing equipment leading to a minor promotion with a slightly larger pay check and a lot less free time. He enjoyed it though because it made life easier for the two of them and he got to do something that he thought was tremendous fun. Part of the testing he was to do involved stripping down the weapons and seeing how well they performed in unexpected situations. Using the firing pin and trigger mechanism of a pistol as a part of a fire starter in sub zero temperatures was one example.
By the time he was twenty three he was well entrenched in his job, having achieved job security and another slight pay raise. Too be short life was good. Trouble was that he was in a very good position to see and hear things and had a tendency to be ignored. A perfect place for the yeerks to put a controller. One day at the end of a two day solo test for some new, and useless, mortar he was stopped on his way home by a police officer for ‘speeding’. He was stunned on the spot and infested. It didn’t take long and by the time he knew what was happening he had completely lost control. There he remained a slave in his own body while the yeerk used him to watch higher officials before taking them.
Another year passed before his position was seen as unneeded. His death was faked and he was removed to the local yeerk pool to perform maintenance on the kandrona emitter and bug fighters that resided there, but not before he was forced to watch and feel the yeerk kill his wife before setting fire to the home where he had lived. Making it appear realistic apparently meant destroying his life completely.
His controller remained at the pool, doing maintenance on anything and everything that he could use Mark’s own knowledge to piggyback on. The host was not conscious of a great deal of this, his own mind trapped in an almost ongoing nightmare as he relived the pain he had caused and other atrocities that the yeerk showed him from previous hosts. So it continued until the war ended and the monster that inhabited his skull was forced to leave for good. Even so Mark was close to catatonic for a further two months as he relearned control of his own body and mind. He was back in control after a seeming eternity of a fate truly worse than death. Being so long in the pool he had lost track of time, of faces and fashions. Mentally he was still the young man they had captured those years ago, though his memories and experiences marked him as older. He never has forgiven those that changed him and bears a hatred and anger for the yeerks that burns brighter than the despair that would otherwise overshadow his life.
How they were recruited:
The sound of keys as Mark fumbled with them filled the still air before he got the door to his small apartment open and got in.“We expected you’d be home a little earlier than this. Were you out drinking again or simply out wandering and experiencing life again? Survivors like you tend to both to prove they are in control of their bodies and that the world is real and not an illusion…” The voice was unexpected in the darkness but instead of getting startled, the apartment’s owner’s eyes narrowed in anger. Before he could speak though the lights flared into sudden brightness that made him stagger.
Before him, at one chair of the dingy dining table, was a man in a non-descript suit with a small briefcase beside him. Nodding to himself Mark closed the door and took a seat across from the man. “If I asked who you were would I get a straight answer?”
The man smiled and shook his head. “Good question, and no you wouldn’t. Just think of me as a friend.” With that he picked up the briefcase and set it on the table. Opening it he took out a file and looked Mark in the eyes. “You were in the last group to be released and about average when it came to regaining control. Not so bad that you required physical therapy but you kept forgetting to do things like eat or drink. No attempted suicide which is good, but you showed an extremely negative reaction to the yeerk nothlit program. Like many, the rehabilitators had no idea who you were and where you came from since you resided at the pool itself and you didn’t see fit to give them more than your first name. In a sense you started off with a blank slate once you came to and what was there before was extremely hard to track down… Is this all correct Mr. Lonile.”
Mark’s eyes flew open at hearing his last name but managed to nod.
The suited man turned a few pages before continuing. “We know about your early service and your propensity for field work. In early tests you showed yourself to be adaptive and a quick thinker. Further tests you did after you were manumitted showed that you learned a great deal from what your controller did even if you yourself weren’t entirely aware of it. Not surprising since it was routine work for the most part. There is the fact that you are ‘dead’ but enough of that went around when people were pulled to work in the pools or on their ships that it’s an easy thing to rectify. So now you have a choice in the way your life will go.”
“How do you…” He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “That stupid background check when I first started there.”
“Yes, your fingerprints were still on file in a federal archive.”
“You’re saying that if I want to I can stay here,” His arm waved to indicate the squalor he was living in “with my job at the laundry or you can set up where I was and leave me to pack up the pieces of my shattered life?” Tears stung his eyes as he said this. How dare they remind me…
“That’s not what I mean at all. You’ve had the opportunity to pick up your old life from the beginning. I’m giving you a chance to start with a completely blank slate. We’ll wipe your old records from the system completely and put you somewhere where you can do some good. Those who hurt you may be gone but there are still those who would prey upon others. You’ll get a new identity, a new home, and a real purpose for living again.” He slid a second smaller folder across the table.
Under the ‘Top Secret’ label at the top was the most unbelievable contract he had ever read. As he skimmed it some phrases popped out at him such as a limited liability for ‘inability to revert’ a need for reporting any cases of ‘hereth illint’ immediately. He also saw that he would in fact be able to help people. He would become a secret government tool, invisible but useful, to help ferret out things where it would be impossible to use conventional agents. He blinked as he came to the end. He was beginning to really feel his exhaustion now but he knew what he had to do. As he wiped a hand over bleary eyes he asked “Do you have a pen?”
With a smile, the man handed over a silver ballpoint and sat back as Mark signed the last page. “Congratulations Mr. Lonile you have taken a big step. Welcome to SPECTER.”
Preferred Job: (…I want to RP picking my job… Too bad.) Pet Store
First morph: Yellow Jacket (Vespula pennsylvanica). It’s relatively small and extremely common in urban and suburban areas, so seeing one is not unusual, and is generally left alone because of their ability to sting and bite people. They are hunters which implies more acute senses and greater speed and agility than prey species. As for acquiring one, that’s as simple as going to a park and eating lunch. At least one will show up and try and steal some of your soda. Mark acquired one because they’re small, annoying, and really hard to kill. Besides it was easy.
Name: Mark Lonile (law-nil)
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Appearance: Standing just under six feet, Mark has short brown hair and brown eyes. He’s somewhat broad shouldered, but this is offset by a gauntness to his features. There is a touch of pain that is visible in his eyes even when he’s apparently happy.
He usually wears worn jeans and a t-shirt, with a surplus field jacket over top of this when it gets cold. Though not overly thrilled with the ‘skin tight’ demands of morphing he also has a black underarmor shirt and tight running pants that he wears when he thinks he’ll be working.
Personality: In a word, thorough. If he starts something he comes back to finish it even if he does get distracted by another project or problem. He is also careful, his past life teaching him that people who don’t take care tend to meet more accidents. This is not to say that he is slow however, just methodical. Despite his age, he doesn't remember much of his years after leaving the surface and is mentally quite young.
He has an intense hatred of all yeerks, nothlit or not, and refuses to deal with or trust them if he can avoid it. He is stubborn, to a fault, when he believes he’s correct but has been known to change his mind in the face of overwhelming opposition. He does have a tendency to think ahead, often two or three steps if he thinks there’s a no win situation, but rarely shares his plans with people he doesn’t trust. As this is a short list, this usually means he finds it easier to work alone. To quote him “Even if I didn’t have this taint, I’d still be a bit of a loner.”
Biography: Life began rather well. Though not a perfect student, Mark managed well enough to get accepted to a decent college with scholarships covering about half the cost. He made some good friends early on that he’d somehow manage to keep for the rest of his time there and by the end of his first year he met the woman he would fall in love with and eventually marry. By the time he graduated he’d gotten a contract job on a nearby military base doing weapons performance tests, which coincided well with his engineering major. A month after graduation, he married his sweetheart and the two managed, barely, to buy a house. By the time a year went by he had shown an aptitude for field testing equipment leading to a minor promotion with a slightly larger pay check and a lot less free time. He enjoyed it though because it made life easier for the two of them and he got to do something that he thought was tremendous fun. Part of the testing he was to do involved stripping down the weapons and seeing how well they performed in unexpected situations. Using the firing pin and trigger mechanism of a pistol as a part of a fire starter in sub zero temperatures was one example.
By the time he was twenty three he was well entrenched in his job, having achieved job security and another slight pay raise. Too be short life was good. Trouble was that he was in a very good position to see and hear things and had a tendency to be ignored. A perfect place for the yeerks to put a controller. One day at the end of a two day solo test for some new, and useless, mortar he was stopped on his way home by a police officer for ‘speeding’. He was stunned on the spot and infested. It didn’t take long and by the time he knew what was happening he had completely lost control. There he remained a slave in his own body while the yeerk used him to watch higher officials before taking them.
Another year passed before his position was seen as unneeded. His death was faked and he was removed to the local yeerk pool to perform maintenance on the kandrona emitter and bug fighters that resided there, but not before he was forced to watch and feel the yeerk kill his wife before setting fire to the home where he had lived. Making it appear realistic apparently meant destroying his life completely.
His controller remained at the pool, doing maintenance on anything and everything that he could use Mark’s own knowledge to piggyback on. The host was not conscious of a great deal of this, his own mind trapped in an almost ongoing nightmare as he relived the pain he had caused and other atrocities that the yeerk showed him from previous hosts. So it continued until the war ended and the monster that inhabited his skull was forced to leave for good. Even so Mark was close to catatonic for a further two months as he relearned control of his own body and mind. He was back in control after a seeming eternity of a fate truly worse than death. Being so long in the pool he had lost track of time, of faces and fashions. Mentally he was still the young man they had captured those years ago, though his memories and experiences marked him as older. He never has forgiven those that changed him and bears a hatred and anger for the yeerks that burns brighter than the despair that would otherwise overshadow his life.
How they were recruited:
The sound of keys as Mark fumbled with them filled the still air before he got the door to his small apartment open and got in.“We expected you’d be home a little earlier than this. Were you out drinking again or simply out wandering and experiencing life again? Survivors like you tend to both to prove they are in control of their bodies and that the world is real and not an illusion…” The voice was unexpected in the darkness but instead of getting startled, the apartment’s owner’s eyes narrowed in anger. Before he could speak though the lights flared into sudden brightness that made him stagger.
Before him, at one chair of the dingy dining table, was a man in a non-descript suit with a small briefcase beside him. Nodding to himself Mark closed the door and took a seat across from the man. “If I asked who you were would I get a straight answer?”
The man smiled and shook his head. “Good question, and no you wouldn’t. Just think of me as a friend.” With that he picked up the briefcase and set it on the table. Opening it he took out a file and looked Mark in the eyes. “You were in the last group to be released and about average when it came to regaining control. Not so bad that you required physical therapy but you kept forgetting to do things like eat or drink. No attempted suicide which is good, but you showed an extremely negative reaction to the yeerk nothlit program. Like many, the rehabilitators had no idea who you were and where you came from since you resided at the pool itself and you didn’t see fit to give them more than your first name. In a sense you started off with a blank slate once you came to and what was there before was extremely hard to track down… Is this all correct Mr. Lonile.”
Mark’s eyes flew open at hearing his last name but managed to nod.
The suited man turned a few pages before continuing. “We know about your early service and your propensity for field work. In early tests you showed yourself to be adaptive and a quick thinker. Further tests you did after you were manumitted showed that you learned a great deal from what your controller did even if you yourself weren’t entirely aware of it. Not surprising since it was routine work for the most part. There is the fact that you are ‘dead’ but enough of that went around when people were pulled to work in the pools or on their ships that it’s an easy thing to rectify. So now you have a choice in the way your life will go.”
“How do you…” He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “That stupid background check when I first started there.”
“Yes, your fingerprints were still on file in a federal archive.”
“You’re saying that if I want to I can stay here,” His arm waved to indicate the squalor he was living in “with my job at the laundry or you can set up where I was and leave me to pack up the pieces of my shattered life?” Tears stung his eyes as he said this. How dare they remind me…
“That’s not what I mean at all. You’ve had the opportunity to pick up your old life from the beginning. I’m giving you a chance to start with a completely blank slate. We’ll wipe your old records from the system completely and put you somewhere where you can do some good. Those who hurt you may be gone but there are still those who would prey upon others. You’ll get a new identity, a new home, and a real purpose for living again.” He slid a second smaller folder across the table.
Under the ‘Top Secret’ label at the top was the most unbelievable contract he had ever read. As he skimmed it some phrases popped out at him such as a limited liability for ‘inability to revert’ a need for reporting any cases of ‘hereth illint’ immediately. He also saw that he would in fact be able to help people. He would become a secret government tool, invisible but useful, to help ferret out things where it would be impossible to use conventional agents. He blinked as he came to the end. He was beginning to really feel his exhaustion now but he knew what he had to do. As he wiped a hand over bleary eyes he asked “Do you have a pen?”
With a smile, the man handed over a silver ballpoint and sat back as Mark signed the last page. “Congratulations Mr. Lonile you have taken a big step. Welcome to SPECTER.”
Preferred Job: (…I want to RP picking my job… Too bad.) Pet Store
First morph: Yellow Jacket (Vespula pennsylvanica). It’s relatively small and extremely common in urban and suburban areas, so seeing one is not unusual, and is generally left alone because of their ability to sting and bite people. They are hunters which implies more acute senses and greater speed and agility than prey species. As for acquiring one, that’s as simple as going to a park and eating lunch. At least one will show up and try and steal some of your soda. Mark acquired one because they’re small, annoying, and really hard to kill. Besides it was easy.