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samir5636

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samir-games-dataset

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C'est compris. Le petit arachnide était sous sa paume dans une seconde et brossé dans la petite poubelle à côté de lui dans la suivante avant qu'il ne soit une fois de plus debout à côté de sa charge. Étonnamment, il n'a pas vraiment tué la chose, mais elle était assez petite et s'est rapidement évanouie au fur et à mesure que son accusation commençait à se régler. La nouvelle arrivée lui a donné un regard mais comme elle l'a félicité plus tard avant de partir, il était sûr qu'il était dans le clair pour le moment. Il avait accompli ces petits actes de rébellion depuis qu'il avait laissé la fille rebelle s'échapper à nouveau. Peu importe, il n'y avait pas de mal, et ses actions ne servaient qu'à améliorer la situation de l'empire dans son ensemble. Les araignées tuèrent d'autres insectes qui impliquaient de laisser vivre l'un d'eux, ce qui aurait pour effet de profiter de l'éthique de travail de son supérieur. En réalité, il vient peut - être d'arriver lentement au point de vue d'une certaine personne après un choc assez dur sur son système de croyances. Il est rapidement revenu à se tenir à côté de sa charge avec les mains derrière son dos et les yeux froids balayant la zone, la position professionnelle, silencieuse d'une sentinelle constamment alerte aux dangers potentiels. L'un d'eux semblait émouvant dans les nerfs de son employeur, tuant des araignées semblait être sa tâche principale, ce qu'il remarquait à chaque fois qu'elle criait pour obtenir de l'aide. L'élimination actuelle de la punaise avait été la troisième fois qu'un tel acte était exigé par lui, apparemment il y avait plus de vie dans ce trou-dans-le-sol que les visages des travailleurs vous l'auraient fait croire. Il s'en sortait bien, tout en séduisant et en craignant tout ce qui l'entourait, mais sa nouvelle charge le gardait sur ses orteils. Mais, comme la plupart de son temps ici avait ouvert des portes et jouer à l'exterminateur, garder le directeur comptable était une mission simple, et il pensait que cela signifiait que les hauts responsables lui faisaient plus confiance s'il était mis en charge de la sécurité concernant quelqu'un si impliqué dans leur système financier. Oui, les choses allaient très bien pour lui. Il ne pouvait qu'espérer que ça resterait ainsi. Il a demandé froidement, perçant les yeux bleus ne laissant jamais leur poste de regarder droit vers l'avant. C'était étrange à quel point la journée avait été calme, oui, il se contentait de la situation, mais cela ne l'empêchait pas d'être naturellement suspicieux à propos de la facilité. Il avait un malaise naturel à propos de sa présence là-bas. Oui, son travail était facile, mais cela semblait le troubler le plus. Peut-être était-ce lui en pensant à la situation, mais il était sûr que, comme son passé incluait une certaine expérience de combat, que son être demandé signifiait spécifiquement qu'il allait poser quelque chose ou quelqu'un sur une échelle légèrement plus grande que la moyenne de l'entrainement. Le petit bureau, le manque de quoi que ce soit hors de l'ordinaire, le fait qu'il ait été appelé après avoir arrêté une attaque contre un employé de Galatec, n'auraient-ils pas dû le placer dans la ville? Ou était-ce à cause de ses réalisations que son patron actuel l'a demandé, était-il ici juste pour sa tranquillité d'esprit, elle semblait assez habile donc ce n'était pas une impossibilité. Pourtant, il ne pouvait pas ébranler le sentiment, il n'a jamais fait confiance quand les choses allaient bien.

Name: Jonah Fallen Nickname/Alias: No Race: Human Age: 21 Ethnicity: East German on his mother's side, Russian on his father's side. He's also part polish and 1/15th Indian(not Native American) from his great grandmother. Gender: Male Appearance: Jonah is a light skinned male standing at 6'1 with toned muscles from working and his training. He has dirty blonde hair that he likes to keep short and sweet blue eyes that are usually seen sharpening at things he finds annoying. Along with those penetrating blues, he wears a set of thick rimmed glasses and keeps a small “glasses cleaning kit” in his pocket when ever maintenance is required. Despite working out daily, he appears as an average looking young man when wearing long sleeves since he focuses more on toning his muscles rather than having huge ones. His slightly chiseled features are smooth but he has some hair on his stomach. Clothing: He likes to keep things simple so he'll often be seen in a plain shirt and some jeans, he doesn't lean towards one color over the rest but is often seen in black or blue since his mother used to tell him it fit him best. He prefers short sleeved shirts and long pants but will change that up if it becomes uncomfortable to move in. For that same reason, he often sports sneakers as they are easy to move around in. In The Mind Personality: Jonah has an independent personality, he strives to be the best he can be because that's all he knows how to be. He keeps a cool head under pressure and always does his best to figure out the best solution to the problem at hand. He doesn't believe in good or evil, stating that all things are objectively of the same value. Often quiet unless spoken to, Jonah keeps an air of contemplation about himself and makes a note to distance himself from others so that they don't become a liability. While this method can supply an incredibly sturdy strength, Jonah's logical outlook can at times give way to his inter turmoils. See, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he is not always as cool as he thinks he is. While strong and independent, Jonah's attempts at apathy hides the fact that he does care about the people around him. His emotions are often the one thing he believes holds him back but they often supply more to his motives than he'll let on. Never to show fear, never to admit defeat, Jonah's logical thoughts can turn to mush when faced with having to deal with some of his inner-demons. Likes: Books that make you think about things. Silence. Dislikes: Stupid people. Self righteousness. Fears: That his rationality is just cowardice, that he's simply avoiding his greater emotions and is a hypocrite for telling people to not be controlled by them when he's letting them force him to flee from himself. Quirks: He loves to read, mainly books on philosophy which can sometimes overlap with books on strategy though most books on the art of war were destroyed. When upset or feeling unhinged, he'll take to cleaning his glasses to regain a form of control over his person. Where They’ve Been History: Jonah grew up in a small apartment in a not-so-friendly part of the city. It wasn't perfect but he had what he needed. His parents, on the other hand, were not quite as okay with their arrangement as he was. Starting from the womb, his parents pressured him to be the golden-child that would sky rocket them to the big times! Whether it was mathematics or sports, Jonah was told that he had to succeed to make life worth living for his family. He followed every rule but still slipped up, receiving negative reinforcement when he did so. But, eventually, he began to catch his stride. He started winning soccer games and getting A's on his tests and suddenly the negative reinforcement stopped. He was happy, his parents were happy, everything was better. Until he started hating his activities, started getting tired of waking up and never doing the things he wanted. At first, he hated this turning in his stomach because he loved his parents but he still couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him so mad at them some times. He didn't have friends to talk to so he sought knowledge in his books. The library was a short walk from his home so he'd spend as much time as he could just reading. He had a love for philosophy and thinking and used ideals he learned to come to the conclusion that what was happening to him wasn't a bad thing, it was just a “thing” and that him giving way to subjective beliefs was what was causing him problems internally. Eventually he began to distance himself from his parents until he didn't see them as his parents anymore, he saw them as just another problem. By the time he was ten years old, he had developed a form of detached apathy, a learned behavior he adopted to keep his emotions in check. Suddenly, he didn't smile as much. He didn't laugh at all and he didn't speak quite as much as he used to. He was only a child but he got better at rationalizing with age and by the time Galatec seized complete control, he was already stead-fast in his thought process. Besides, honestly, life didn't really change when they arrived, not for him any way. His parents went to work and left him with his books, though the material was now more about how to serve the greater good than anything else. They confiscated his other books on philosophical thinking and mathematics, apparently those were “dangerous books that brought about dangerous thoughts”. He grew up in that situation, unaware of how much the world was going to continue to change. Time went on, and just as he thought, people began to cope with the change. It had been years, and like all things that occur, what was once “horrible tragedy” became “yesterday”. Life was in a constant state of flux and he wouldn't let such a fact break his concentration. His mother, now a widow after the passing of her late-husband, pushed Jonah to make a name for himself in the new society, she saw that he was different than everyone else now and thought she could bank on it. Jonah agreed because he didn't want to be thought of as expendable, besides, working hard was how he made it through life, keeping his center is how he survived. He had to keep a rational mind and continue moving forward. And that's exactly what he did. He began working as soon as possible, Galatec didn't care about age so long as their workers knew what they were doing. Eventually, he stood out and worked his way up, volunteering for the riskier parts of the job until he was being looked at by the higher ups. He refused to sit idle, not for honor or pride but because he knew that he only got one chance at life, knew what it meant to waste time and effort. Through it all, he kept his composure. He rationalized everything he saw, closed his eyes and reminded himself about the philosophies he put his trust in because that's all he had to stand by. Maybe he had problems with the blank eyes of some of the other workers, maybe he would be up at night, trying to see why his own eyes still flickered with life, maybe he wondered about the girl he once saw with the same eyes as him. But that didn't matter, work mattered, staying alive mattered. “You don't get second chances at life.” He reminded himself on those nights. “Galatec is in control, there is nothing you can do, don't be illogical, keep yourself centered...” Like that, every day. “What is is, and what is not is not.” They were truths, he could rely on truths. He just couldn't stand with them in his entirety. After all, he was still human. When the opportunity arose, Jonah volunteered for bodyguard duty, knowing that it meant he'd be given martial training and hoping it would supply a better standing for himself and, by extension, his mother. He was healthy enough, had a strong build from staying fit so he didn't have much trouble being selected. His training went by pretty easily as he took rather well to punching things into submission, perhaps due to some seriously repressed rage? Whose to say? After the initial adrenaline of letting loose for the first time wore off, he began practicing more at home, honing his reflexes as best he could. While not a god of the martial arts, he was able to prove himself worthy enough to stand guard for some big shots in the corporation. It didn't involve much, just watching and waiting for anything to slide by, a pretty simple procedure. As time went on, he did his work well, making a small name for himself with the others in his profession. It was an easy life really, easier than manual labor though how he trained at home, you'd think other wise but he still felt an unease about himself . One of which was when he first met a member of the rebels, a group that had yet to come to terms with what was and tried to ruin the status quo. Didn't they understand the feedback of what they were doing, how nothing changed but the amount of panic they caused to minor citizens? He had been on a regular patrol when he saw one, a rebel running from some other guards. He moved to assist but noticed that he recognized her, she was the girl with eyes like his, eyes still flickering with life. He wasn't sure why, but he let her pass, let a dangerous rebel pass by without a fight. She looked at him at as she ran by, first with confusion and then with a small smile continued on her way. He didn't realize it until turning around to see his reflection in a window, didn't even recognize the unfamiliar sensation... But he had a smile on his face as he watched her disappear around a corner.... After the encounter, he moved out of his old home and got a small apartment, feeling that the connections he had were clouding his judgment. Something about having to see his mother's eyes made him nervous so by 20 he was gone. Before he left, he promised her that he'd keep doing his best, though he didn't see the point in the ritual since he planned to do so anyway. His life was steady, to a degree but all of that, his worries and his real desire, came to a front when he was faced with a life changing decision. It had been so normal, training had gone well and nothing out of the ordinary had shown up as he escorted his charge through the street. Until suddenly, everything went to hell. Someone blew a bullhorn and a fire erupted on his left, a bit distraction for the person running towards the target, his charge. The attacker, a masked assailant ran in a panicked frenzy with a scream of desperation. They were part of the rebellion. Obviously, the attack failed, Jonah struck their weapon to the ground before a sharp low kick knocked away their legs and they were falling to ground. The assailant scrambled to their feet and began to scurry away, Jonah gave chase and they made their way all the way out to the coal mines. “Stop chasing me!” The assailant shouted as they jumped into the large ditch where the entrance was located. The masked fighter tripped on their landing and fell with a huff. As Jonah followed suit, landing in a roll, the attacker made one last lunge that Jonah quickly put a stop to when he threw them to the ground with one arm twisted behind their back. “Let me go!” “You are weaker than me, you should have been prepared for this outcome.” He responded as he pulled off her mask to reveal.... The girl with eyes like his. Yes, the girl he had let go earlier came back, the one he used to see when he thought about the life he was living came back after failing once already. Why did she come back, why didn't she learn her lesson and why was he thinking about letting her go again. Why did seeing this person fighting still make his heart stop a second, make him think about what he could be doing differently. “I know you, you're the guy who let me by the last time.” She said in realization. “And you're the one who was dumb enough to go and come back after getting a second chance at life.” He responded, deadpan as he pulled her to her feet. “What point is there to life if you can't make your own choices?” She retorted with a strange fire in her eyes. She broke out of the grip and glared at him. “You and I have the same eyes you should see things a lot clearer.” “Don't you understand, the war's already over.” He responded coolly. “This isn't your last pitch effort to save the world, we're not one city away from being under their control and you aren't the last key to the puzzle.” His steely blue eyes cut through her. “We've lost, the invasion you're trying stop? That's come and gone and people have moved on with their lives, what is is and what is not is not so stop living in a fairy tale world and get it together or you won't even have a life to cry about.” Those were the facts, the rebels should know that. Galatec was already in control, there wasn't a war to fight anymore, all that was left were lives to live as best as possible. Throwing yourself into a self-righteous ideal only serves to get you killed and there's no coming back from that. “Clearly, it was a mistake to let you go, I won't make it again.” “Okay,” She still had a smile on her face though. “than why am I not being turned in right now?” And then he had to be quiet as her smirk grew. “Why do I know that you're never going to turn me in?” She walked up close and never broke eye contact. “It's because you know what they'll do to me, don't you?”She took a step forward and he took one back. “You get how that's wrong, and you care.” She stepped passed him and he turned his head but didn't move to stop her. “Ya know, a guy like you could do something if he wanted, way more than me.” She climbed out of the hole before turning to look down at him and give a quick and playful salute. “Maybe stop trying to make sense of the situation and find out what you really believe, you're a human so you should act like one!” She ran off around yet another corner, leaving him to his thoughts. “Crap..” He said to himself. Why did he let her let go...again!? Why did he smile the last the time, why doesn't he feel bad about doing it now? Maybe it was an idiotic thing to give up on the ideals of right and wrong, maybe he had been idiotic about a lot of things. He had tried doing it his way for as long as he could remember, it was how he survived but was surviving and living the same thing or was he making them the same so he could deal with the situation? What were his real motives for his way of thinking, how much was logic and how much was fear? He stood there at the entrance of the mine, thinking to himself about what he'd do next. Talents: Logical thinking, more than anything else. Jonah may be good at fighting but that's a skill, his true talent, which could be considered the back bone of all his skills, is his logical mindset which gives him the ability to strike precisely and plan accordingly. Hindrances: Empathizing, holding his temper, admitting he was wrong, and expressing himself. Equipment: Morpher(Blue Ranger). A normal combat knife he keeps on him for special occasions and his glasses/glasses cleaning kit. Bonus Round Quotes: “What is is, and what is not is not.” Theme Song: nope Aspiration: To find out what he really wants in life. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation:Violet Primary Weapon:THE PHOTON BOW The photon bow is a light based, long bow that generates arrows of pure energy to strike down its target. The bow is capable of firing multiple arrows at once with its average maximum being four unless overcharged (which will result in a rain of twelve arrows before the weapon is forced to recharge). By turning the bow, one can focus the arrows into one incredibly condensed and narrow blast, but this attack takes a lot of time to charge which leaves the archer open to attack. As each attack's quantity and quality are affected by both how long and in what way a person pulls back the bow string, the bow is not for the clumsy or undisciplined. It takes timing and calculation to bring out this weapon's maximum potential. Energy Shield: His shield is a circular shape, perfect for blocking attacks. It's a very nice shade of purple and glows in the dark. Blaster Design: Silver trim, black trigger, mostly violet. It has a sleek design with the gun's barrel having a thin line of silver across its top. The actual muzzle is the same pitch black as the trigger and there's a neon line of green running along the side of the gun. Powers: As the violet ranger, Jonah has the ability to see across all spectrum of sight. He makes calculations on how to strike next by scanning people's bodies with X-Ray vision and using infrared, he has the ability to shoot people down and fight accurately in the shadows. Along with X-ray and infrared, Jonah can see UV light and Radio waves along with much more. With vision beyond an eagle's, Jonah can strike down any opponent with deadly precision. Zords:N/A Jonah stood behind a lone tree with his binoculars set to night-vision, the darkness only lightened by the stray strands of the moon.. He had set up his sting in a small park for kids, surrounded by small shrubbery and a few trees all of which was going to be demolished soon. Across from him stood the construction zone where they were working on a 20 floor parking garage. As if the world needed more places for Galatec to park their fancy vehicles. He was there because there had been a report of beasts getting loose from the science division, a few Githkin test subjects had broken out of the lab and ran off into the city with a few people commenting on seeing them in the park at night. No one was advised to stay indoors because Galatec didn't want panic to ruin their precious balance which meant the people of the city were being left high and dry. Instead, curfew was moved up to 9:00 pm, lucky there weren't any encounters in that short amount of time. But now, night had fallen and anyone not in doors was a target which didn't seem to matter as there had been no sign of any people for awhile. Jonah wasn't sure if he was happy or sad about that. In this part of town there was always someone trying to get one over on you, he remembered hearing gun shots from his window from time to time, now he doesn't hear anything, no crimes, no muggings just the silence of night. “Every thing's so peaceful now.” He thought to himself as he watched the area. It was nights like these where he was the most conflicted. He was about to stop a few monsters that could kill a lot of people but he wasn't sure if the city has ever been safer than it is now. Nights like these could happen every day, a few Githkin escaping every night and it might not even make a dent in Earth's war torn history. This was one of the main reasons he couldn't except the other ranger's idea of a righteous victory, he couldn't say that Galatec wasn't a benefit to earth as a whole. He certainly got higher in this society than his background would have allowed him to before, there wasn't much prejudice or pollution or war. Just work and while that might be boring he couldn't say that weren't plenty of people who should only have that option in life. *rustle* His gaze instantly went to a bush on the opposite side of his hiding place. His hand went for his morpher but he didn't move, he wouldn't till he confirmed his target. As he watched, two figures popped out of the bush, they looked around warily before fulling stepping out into the moonlight, revealing their small frames. Children, two of them, they walked around as if trying to find something. The first was about twelve while the other was at least 13. Jonah didn't move from his post but instead used his binoculars to scan them closer. He noticed that they weren't frightened, instead being rather resolved. Judging by their hooded attire, they must have planned to be outside tonight. Hooded children out scouting the night sky with an emotion in their eyes, they must be part of the .5% meaning.. They were rebel scouts. “Great, just what I needed.” Jonah scoffed to himself, obviously not thrilled with the idea of having to deal with another rebel problem. Those guys really need to start leaving things to the professionals. Not that he was any more of a professional than they were but he definitely had more combat training. Luckily they didn't spot him as he hid in the shadows, to bad a very aggressive group of something had the duo in their sights. The rogue Githkins, five of them. The creatures moved toward the children and they screamed. The scout duo clearly hadn't had access to the same reports that his team had. The younger child ducked behind the eldest but still held some form of courage as the creatures drew nearer. The first Githkin raised it's hand to strike but the blow was offset by a timely thrown stone that knocked it's hand off course. The beast quickly turned to identify the attacker only to be met with a larger stone striking it in the face, in fact they were all being pelted with stones, most at their legs and ankles but a number of them aimed at their eyes and face. The children were initially scared but then became rather perplexed when they saw their would-be attackers being pelted. They stood there curious before a glimpse of a figure in the shadows ushering them to escape had them nodding and running back into the bushes, leaving as fast as they had come. “Perfect.” Jonah thought within the shadows. “They didn't see my face and I managed to sit some of those idiots in the eye.” He quickly scanned them over, three of the five still looked like they had a decent control of their faculties. “Even blind, that's still too many for my liking, I'll have to fight them on my terms if I wanna win.” And then he remembered the construction yard. “That's it.” He dashed out of the foliage to close the distance between him and the Githkin, Shocked at first, one made a fierce swing he ducked and rolled under before popping up to his feet in between the two blinded by stones. He deflected a left hook with an open palm before his leg whipped up to kick both eye damaged Githkin's in the chest, leg swinging back and forth between the two of them. "As I thought." The attack merely stunned them and soon the others were on him as well, swinging violently as he back flipped away and skidded to a stop. “That's right, your enemy's right here,” He cockily saluted before running into the parking garage shadows with the Githkin's hot on his trail. “Alright,” He swiped his hand over his wrist and his morpher flashed “Strike force, flash forward!” In the parking garage on level three, the Githkin's crept. Deep into the shadows they lurked, foot steps echoing in the hollow space, often turning at the sight of a shadowy gray figure passing by them like a phantom. Their eyes scanned the area for their prey but to no avail. As they passed by a pillar of stone, a sound, a click, had them halting in surprise. They lay unaware of who was on the other side. "X-Ray activated..." Jonah, donned in dark purple armor of his ranger form stood with bow drawn. The dim light of the bow focused and tightened as the arrow of light condensed. "Focusing rate: 100%" The creature's pondered as they began to take a step closer to the pillar of stone. "Firing..." Jonah released the bow string and the arrow shot through the stone pillar and the skull of the Githkin on the other side. The other soldiers went frantic on the defense when their companion turned into ooze but Jonah was already moving. "Infrared activated." His vision swapped out and suddenly he could see all of them clearly as they scrambled in the darkness. He pulled his bow string back before dashing out of his hiding place in a dive roll, landing on one knee with bow drawn and arrows already appearing between his fingers. He let it loose, just as the nearest Githkin began to notice his presence, and littered its body with three arrows to its chest. It screeched before dissolving and suddenly he couldn't hide anymore. They closed in but Jonah was already readying his bow as they rushed him. “Here we go..” He dashed backwards as one came down on him with a punch that cracked the concrete. As it moved to continue its rampage, he released a charged arrow through its chest before running up to back-kick it into the others and fire another three arrows into the group. As they scrambled to regroup in the shadows, he switched to X-Ray and scanned them for damage. “That last attack was on stun but the one in front received most of the damage and can't move, I'll focus my attacks on the two left as the weakened one slows them down.” By the time he finished his thought they were on him again. He back-flipped to dodge a high swing and side stepped the flying kick from another, striking the attacking Githkin with his bow before having to dash backwards and avoid the mighty swing of the weakened Githkin. He returned to the fray with a flying knee that struck the weakened Githkin in the chest, knocking it into one of its companions and freeing Jonah to strike down the one now left alone. It moved to attack but he back-flipped away to skid across the ground with bow drawn. As the arrow charged, he dodged the incoming blows from the Githkin soldier; ducking and weaving past each punch, smacking away the clumsy kick that followed with a high kick of his own and bringing up his bow before releasing it at point blank range to turn the soldier's skull into gray goop and watching as the rest of its body dissolved. Just as the other two Githkins managed to center themselves and go for a retaliation, his purple suit turned dark gray and he faded back into the shadows. Like a phantom, he circled them as he slid from pillar to pillar in the darkness. With a steady hand he pulled back his bow string and two arrows appeared between his fingers. The light of the arrows released a light shine as they began to glow. And then he was dashing forward He released the two arrows, hitting the back of the weakened Githkin's legs and making it buckle to its knees. As it went to get up, Jonah ran up its back and used it as a spring board to become air borne with bow string drawn. Before the other Githkin could think, it was struck with three stun arrows to the chest and Jonah was closing the remaining distance with a flying kick that had it skidding backwards. As the Githkin stumbled to regroup, Jonah hit the ground in a roll, landing right below the soldier on one knee with bow pointing straight up. "Firing." He released and the concussive force smashed into the Githkin's jaw, sending it flying up into the air and falling to the ground with a splat. Standing to full height, he turned, fingers already pulling back his bow string. He casually walked by the remaining drone and with out looking, let go the arrow of light between his fingers. The last thing it heard was the whirl of energy.... Jonah breathed heavily as his ranger form shattered out of existence. He had been lucky, the obstacles in the unfinished parking garage gave him ample back up for his strategy. Had he been left in the open, the tide could have very well changed to their favor but what could have been wasn't really important now. By hook or by crook he was still alive and the kids were still alive, that was all that mattered now. He sighed to himself, heart still racing from the exertion. He waited for a moment to steady himself before he retrieved the item he had been hiding in the back of his pants. A flare gun, simple but elegant in its design. He pointed the weapon up at the sky and fired. The flare flew high into the sky before exploding like a fire work. “That'll get Galatec's attention.” He noted. Now notified in as proper a way as possible, the corporation could retrieve their lost and unstable experiments. Jonah wasn't totally pleased with the idea of assisting someone he had designated as his enemy but he couldn't clean this up on his own and Galatec had better facilities for the alien soldiers albeit slave ready more than anything else. “I guess that means the mission's over.” “Time to head back to base.”

Oliver Oliver pouvait à peine rassembler sa respiration et encore moins soulever ce prochain bloc de minerai rouge. Trois jours étaient aussi longs qu'il avait été à Red Rock, mais avec la pression du travail et même ne pas être en mesure de pleurer ses parents la mort a fait tomber comme des années. En recevant des coups constants, en obtenant de faibles quantités de sommeil, et en étant enchaînée, beaucoup de gens craqueraient et tomberaient dans ce genre de situations, mais Ollie n'abandonnerait pas l'espoir. Il a dû pousser à travers. Il croyait qu'un jour quelque chose changerait. Il devrait être mort maintenant, mais le destin lui a donné une seconde chance. Ça ne pouvait pas être juste de travailler jusqu'à sa mort, mais il commençait à perdre espoir. Travailler avec Tommy était intéressant. Pour une raison quelconque être près de lui a légèrement revitalisé Ollie. Il ne savait pas pourquoi, mais il espérait que ce serait un signe que les choses changeraient. Ollie avait du mal à mettre un peu de minerai dans le hovercart quand un Githkin lui a cassé son fouet. Cela a provoqué la chute d'Ollie, *Crap.Ollie s'est vite levée avant que le Githkin ne puisse vomir. Il souleva le minerai au-dessus du côté du chariot et le laissa tomber, *Allez. Tu peux faire ça Ollie. Ne les laisse pas te prendre le cœur.Ollie entendit Tommy chanter de la petite crevasse qu'il venait de traverser; et au lieu d'écouter cette fois-ci, Ollie prononça les premiers mots qu'il avait prononcés ces derniers jours en chantant: "297 tas de rochers dans la mine, 297 tas de rochers! Enlevez-en un, le mien, 296 tas de pierres dans la mine... » Ollie a décidé qu'il ne devrait pas seulement travailler pour lui-même, mais aussi pour les autres autour de lui. Pour des gens comme Tommy.

Name: Oliver Johnson Nickname/Alias: Ollie Race: Human Age: 16 Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish. Gender: Male Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age. Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes. In The Mind Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself. He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him. Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air. Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it. Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys. Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone. Quirks: Is constantly zoning out. Where They’ve Been History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth. During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret. Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since. Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face. Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything. Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden. Bonus Round Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic." Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs. Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Green Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator. Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster. Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight. Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light. Zords: None at the moment.

Le contremaître Jo'ones s'est rétracté une fois que Ruth l'a giflé sur le visage. Si les reptiles pouvaient contusionner, il aurait une vilaine cireuse en ce moment. Le regard sur son visage a tout dit. Le choc, la confusion, la peur, il n'était pas habitué à être traité ainsi. Son malheur n'était pas encore terminé, alors que l'imposant androïde Adelram Drax s'avançait, s'approchant de lui, et accomplissant les ordres de sa maîtresse. L'homme lézard avait l'air d'être sur le point de trembler dans la peur, mais il était capable de se composer lui-même. -- Oui, madame, a-t-il reconnu à Ruth. « Je veillerai à ce que les travailleurs soient immédiatement plus productifs et plus efficaces. Est-ce la raison de votre visite aujourd'hui?" Jo'ones s'est tenu à l'attention d'un fier militaire. En fait, il l'était. Avant de devenir contremaître de Red Rock, il était membre du Galatec Fighter Battalion. Si toute la division n'avait pas été fermée en raison du développement de soldats githkin clonés, il serait toujours un fier soldat au sein de la société. Les assistants ont fait de leur mieux pour ignorer ce qui se passait autour d'eux, en choisissant de se concentrer plutôt sur leur travail. Ils se sont branchés sur les consoles d'ordinateur, dirigeant divers morceaux de machines et les travailleurs de la manière la plus efficace qu'ils pouvaient. La pause était arrivée il y a cinq minutes, mais il n'y avait aucun moyen qu'ils prennent une pause pendant que le directeur régional était en visite, encore moins dans la même pièce qu'eux. Tout semblait être en ordre sur l'écran de visualisation. Le slav-er, c'est-à-dire, les employés ont travaillé dur. La plupart étaient heureux de donner leur sang, leur sueur et leurs larmes sans aucune motivation extérieure. Il s'est avéré qu'un très petit nombre d'entre eux étaient enchaînés et recevaient régulièrement des fouets par la guirlande qui les surveillait. Ces employés n'étaient pas tout à fait productifs, mais ils se sont bien débrouillés. « Oui, c'est vraiment en train de se produire », a parlé le mentor avec un air de soulagement. Il s'est tenu du banc de travail et a placé le morphère de photon rouge dans un boîtier de protection, puis l'a scellé. Puis il porta l'arme précieuse à une table qui tenait les cinq autres morpheurs, chacun dans leurs propres caisses de protection, et la plaça à côté de ses frères. « Ils ne sont peut-être pas les héros les plus idéaux que nous ayons pu trouver », a-t-il dit, se tournant pour regarder Samara et aider à apaiser ses doutes. Mais ce sont les héros dont nous avons besoin. Du moins, j'espère qu'ils le seront. Si l'un d'eux choisit de ne pas aider, alors nous les renverrons avec le système de déplacement de réfraction, aucun mal n'a été fait. Ce n'est pas comme s'ils pouvaient dire où nous en sommes s'ils s'avèrent hostiles! Hahaha." Il a passé Samara sur une console d'ordinateur. Assis, il a commencé à accéder à une partie des images de la caméra de sécurité dans l'installation de Red Rock. D'une caméra à l'autre, il a regardé les différents écrans, essayant de localiser quelque chose. "Nécessité d'abord, confort deuxième", a-t-il rappelé en réponse à la plainte de son assistant au sujet de la chaleur. "Samara, je ne peux pas les localiser sur les caméras. Vous avez ces trackers actifs? Si on ne les voit pas, on peut activer le système de déplacement! » Michael a traversé une mine sombre et dangereuse. Au début, il était entouré par beaucoup de compagnie. D'autres ouvriers se lamentèrent, Githkin veillait sur eux. Quelques githkines ont essayé de lui donner des ennuis, mais un seul regard sur ses ordres et ils se sont rapidement écartés. Si ce n'était pas pour le fait que c'était un trou infernal dans le sol où les gens sont venus travailler eux-mêmes à mort, Michael pourrait avoir pris cela pour une sorte de traitement VIP. Après plusieurs minutes de navigation dans les tunnels, la population s'est éclaircie. Il n'y avait plus de travailleurs. Il n'y avait plus de guirlande qui veillait sur tous ses mouvements. Il n'y avait que du rocher, de l'obscurité et Michael. La carte est devenue beaucoup plus difficile à lire car les lumières de la région avaient brûlé il y a longtemps. Quelque chose de bizarre. Les tunnels et l'équipement étaient vieux. Pourquoi on lui dirait de trouver de nouveaux chemins et des veines de minerai dans un vieux tunnel inutilisé? Tout est arrivé à une tête quand Michael est tombé sur un puits de mine avec une grande porte, rouillée, scellée. Il n'y avait aucun doute à ce sujet, la carte lui a dit de continuer. Comment allait-il passer cette grande porte scellée? Chanter ensemble a rendu le travail plus rapide, qu'il l'a fait. La ganterie n'avait pas l'air de s'inquiéter non plus. Peut-être tant que ça n'interfère pas avec la production, ils s'en foutaient. Peut-être qu'ils ont aimé la chanson aussi. Peut-être qu'il ne s'est même pas enregistré dans leur petit cerveau. Quoi qu'il en soit, les deux étaient libres de chanter à travers leur quart de travail et de lever leur esprit. Quand ils sont arrivés à 117 tas de pierres, Tommy a trouvé quelque chose de très joli. Très précieux. Absolument fantastique! Il a traversé le tunnel jusqu'à une petite ouverture et à l'intérieur de la crevasse s'est assis un morceau de minerai rouge brillant. C'était la taille d'un ballon de basket! Absolument énorme! Le seul problème, c'était à quel point c'était lourd. Il n'y avait aucun moyen que Tommy obtienne ce gros morceau d'oranium de l'ouverture par lui-même, et Oliver était trop grand pour passer. Plonger dans la roche prendrait une éternité! Ils n'avaient qu'une seule option, et c'était de demander l'utilisation d'équipement de creusement plus lourd. Peut-être que des bâtons de dynamitage, ou une perceuse d'ions, ou l'enfer peut-être qu'un de ces esclaves qui conduisaient la guirlande pourrait juste frapper la roche. Ils étaient assez forts. Pendant ce temps, Oliver a aperçu quelque chose d'intéressant à lui. Un seul githkin patrouillait dans les tunnels, transportant avec lui un jeune garçon pas plus âgé qu'Oliver lui-même. Le garçon a été gravement battu, épuisé et probablement sur le point de mourir. Pourtant, la ganterie portait le garçon par son collier, le traînant le long du sol quand la créature était assez forte pour soulever le garçon confortablement. Cette guirlande était unique parmi ses pairs, puisqu'elle portait une écharpe sur son épaule et avait une longue cicatrice sur son visage. Si les araignées pouvaient parler, alors celui-ci remercierait Jonas pour sa gentillesse. Après tout, il essayait seulement de gagner sa vie en mangeant des parasites. Vraiment, c'était l'un des travailleurs les plus dures de cette foutue mine. Si quelqu'un méritait une promotion, c'était M. Legs, non? Il est clair que Shplorn ne se sentait pas comme ça, mais elle est tombée pour le léger de la main de Jonas tout de même. "Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? Puff... Je vous remercie, Monsieur le Président. C'est tombé. Tu m'as encore sauvé la vie. Je veillerai à ce que vous obteniez une promotion, oui je le ferai!" Elle a tenté de reprendre son souffle, s'est remise de l'hyperventilation et s'est recomposée avant de s'adresser à Clementine. "Oui, oui, je vois que vous avez un œil pour les détails. Mlle Mayweather, je peux dire que vous ferez un travail fantastique. Vous avez le libre règne pour mener vos audits avec toute mon autorité. » En effet, Clementine a pris quelques détails que le profane aurait manqués. La plupart d'entre eux semblaient manquer de câblage et de matériel informatique, mais la liste comprenait aussi des fournitures de dynamitage, des rations alimentaires et d'eau et des blocs d'alimentation. Pourtant, le plus grand écart semblait être un exercice qui avait disparu pendant environ deux semaines avant d'apparaître mystérieusement à nouveau dans le quai du véhicule. Très étrange. "Monsieur. Fallen, je crains d'avoir pu me fatiguer. Je vais me reposer dans mes quartiers personnels. Pendant que je le fais, j'aimerais que vous étendiez votre protection à Mlle Mayweather pendant qu'elle dirige ses affaires ici. » Shplorn a donné le plus petit soupçon de sourire aux deux qu'elle parlait, puis s'est levée et a serré son chemin vers la porte, puis s'est évanouie autour du coin.

Name: Jackson Trent Nickname/Alias: Jack, sex on a stick (imo). Race: Human Age: 25 Ethnicity: Canadian, though no one would know what that means. Gender: Male Appearance: . |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about. Clothing: Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly. Personality: Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills. Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives. Likes: The Power Rangers White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea. The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost. Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before. Protecting people The greater good Dislikes: Galatec His job Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control His parents being under Galatec’s influence Fears: Slipping back under Galatec’s control Not being able to find the Power Rangers Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents Galatec defeating the Power Rangers Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them Dying on the job Quirks: He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right? History: Freedom. That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly. Until the Power Rangers. At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”. That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth... Talents: Extremely skilled with a tomahawk Animalistic instincts & reflexes Can see multiple approaches to a problem Agile on his feet A linear understanding of science Apparently quite the singer Hindrances: His perpetual mood swings He always sees the good in people Can sometimes be quick to judge Not exactly the one to sugar coat things His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people Powers: None. Zero. Nil. Equipment: An old mining torch A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day 10 shirts 4 pairs of jeans A pair of combat boots A pair of old sneakers An old scarf A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff) 7 bottles of water A sleeping bag 9 MRE kits Quotes: “Cross your fingers.” Aspiration: To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into.

Tommy avait acquis quelques nouvelles contusions. Les paumes de ses mains étaient remplies d'une combinaison assez insalubre de sang, de sueur et de saleté, bien que les callosités qui s'y étaient déjà formées empêchaient toute coupe profonde de se former. Les genoux de Tommy ressemblaient beaucoup, comme chaque pantalon qu'il possède avait déchiré il y a des années à cause de son travail. Cependant, Tommy ne s'en souciait pas, car chanter avec Oliver a vraiment fait tout aller un peu plus vite, et bien que ce n'était pas agréable, c'était certainement tolérable. Encore mieux, Tommy a trouvé une grosse veine d'oranium! Il chantait alors qu'il s'inscrivait dans la crevasse où il se trouvait, regardant sur le sol quelques cailloux de l'oranium qu'il pouvait arracher. Il leur racontait sa découverte une fois qu'il s'est assuré qu'il ne pouvait pas entrer un peu dans ses poches... S'il y avait une chose que Tommy a fait pour ne pas être déchiré, c'était ses poches. Après quelques instants, il a crié au tunnel. "J'ai trouvé une veine ici! On peut faire un exercice ici? Je ne peux pas soulever ça tout seul et aucun de vous ne peut s'adapter! » Avec ce Tommy a fait son chemin vers le tunnel, continuant son chant alors qu'il attendait la réponse de la ganterie.

Name: Michael Sonnen. Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother). Race: Human. Age: 20. Ethnicity: African American. Gender: Male. Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye. Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In The Mind Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious. Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions. Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal. Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different. Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs. Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where They’ve Been History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think, This isn't right... Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought. Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off. His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered. "Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-" It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself. Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often. Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it? Powers: None. Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bonus Round Quotes: "We fight for today!" Theme Song: Throne Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Red Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung. Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently. Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets. Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes. Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty. "Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you." She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that. By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic. His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on. Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening. Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns. "Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself.

avec : Drax et le contremaître Ruth se tourna pour regarder le foreman en train de faire sa demande. Elle a oublié à quel point elle devait être littérale avec ce monstre robotique qu'elle appelait un général. Elle a manqué d'avoir un subordonné organique capable autour de qui pourrait comprendre ses menaces et demandes sous-estimées. Elle la garderait à l'esprit pour les rencontres futures. Drax était cependant utile, mais pas pour ce genre d'instructions. Alors qu'elle regardait le Foreman se composer après la peur qui venait d'être instillée en lui, Ruth sentit une légère agitation à travers elle alors que ses yeux se rétrécissaient en le regardant pendant un instant. Son lien mental s'est étendu et elle a maintenu un contact visuel constant avec le Foreman alors qu'elle sondait son esprit. C'était un ancien soldat? Un sergent à ça. Il n'a pas semblé impressionné par le fait que le Githkin avait repris les rangs militaires comme nouveaux canons de Galatec. Des porcs ingrats, il devrait être extatique qu'il n'était plus sur les lignes de front! Galatec lui faisait une faveur. Quelle attitude honteuse d'avoir en tant que contremaître d'une des plus importantes installations minières de la Nouvelle Terre. « Oui, madame, je veillerai à ce que les travailleurs soient immédiatement plus productifs et plus efficaces. Est-ce la raison de votre visite aujourd'hui?" Celui-ci était certainement très curieux. Elle n'aimait pas ça. Pas du tout. Il s'agissait de la troisième grève, qui était de deux de plus qu'elle n'avait généralement besoin d'émettre son prochain ordre. C'était la première fois qu'elle lui avait parlé directement et qu'elle avait délibérément ignoré sa dernière question. Elle agita sa main dédaigneusement sur lui alors qu'elle marchait pour se tenir à côté de Drax, ses yeux ne regardant plus Foreman Joyones. "Oh Drax, voudrais-tu me faire une grande faveur et emmener ce serpent ingrat dehors dans une zone agréable et isolée, qui est facilement nettoyée ce morceau est important, et le peaur vivant pour moi s'il vous plaît?" Elle regardait directement Foreman Joaones alors et souriait à lui. Elle marchait lentement vers lui. Cliquez. Claque. Cliquez. Claque. Son sourire s'élargit encore plus en regardant sa réaction. Alors, Drax, je veux que tu prennes son corps et que tu le froisses dans des proportions de viande hachée. Il peut faire pour de la viande mystérieuse quelque part. Assurez-vous de stocker sa peau en toute sécurité quelque part et de la faire recueillir afin que je puisse obtenir quelqu'un pour créer un sac à main merveilleux pour moi. Merci, ma chère Ruth a fait un clin d'œil au sergent Jo'ones avant qu'elle ne se retourne et ne s'éloigne avec le son de ses talons qui résonnent dans la pièce maintenant silencieuse. Elle se tenait en arrière devant l'écran qu'elle avait percuté plus tôt et continuait à regarder n'importe quoi hors de l'ordinaire.

Name: Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento Nickname/Alias: Ruth, ThinkTank, Lady Regional, RM Race: Iki'lek Age: I’ve lived more years than you could possibly ever count, maggot. Ethnicity: Iki'lek Hybrid Gender: Gender is such a primitive thing, but I do have a fondness for the feminine attire your world has. So let’s go with female, for now. Appearance: Ruth has two main appearances that you will see. Her public face is one that you want to give attention to yet makes you feel the need to divert your gaze at the same time as it draws you in. She opts for pale skin, sprinkled with freckles over its entirety. Her body stretches out to a modest 5’8” without the enhancements of high heels. (“These spectacular extensions for your lower appendages are absolutely marvellous!”) Her body type is that of womanly but well taken care of. When you can have any human body that you choose, why wouldn’t you give yourself what you feel is the most desirable body available? Her eyes are generally a dark hazel shade with a very prominent black halo around the iris. Her golden, copper brown hair reaches just below her shoulders and is generally styled in some manner befitting those in the Business profession on Earth. She is a fan of feminine make-up products and has become very proficient in applying it to her face and nails. She has a mass array of different colours that suit her preferred skin tone and hair colour. The second, and most natural, of Ruth’s appearances is not a common sight. Her race has skin that is silvery grey in colour that has a shimmering light to it. Her torso closely resembles that of a human in the sense that it holds the appendages and head together and contains almost all the vital organs. There are not just four appendages, there are fourteen. She has four arms, two at the same area as human arms and then a secondary pair sitting beneath those, protruding from the torso sides. The arms are very similar to human arms but are slightly longer, and there are six fingers on each hand with a thumb making it seven total. He does not have legs or feet, instead she has ten tendrils (see what I did there? I’m so funny…) much like an octopus or squid would have but these are full of muscle and allow her to move at high speeds and very erratically. Her head is slightly more difficult to describe. If you imagine a generic Martian to a human you think of a bulbous upper head, longer chin area and giant, black, and bulbous eyes that are almost as big as the entire head. Well the bulbous upper half is similar to what Iki’lek heads look like. It reaches further out to the back of the cranium though, but not by much. The lower face is longer and more drawn out than a human but not quite as much as a Martian face. Both halves of the race have no nose, instead they have slits much like a snake would. The Brawn half have a large, gaping maw that allows them to bite their targets and to yell out of. The Brain half have no mouth as they communicate telepathically. For Ruth, as she is a hybrid, does not look quite like the two single halves of the Iki’lek race. The Brawn half have smaller, more protruding eyes that face forward and have near tunnel vision while the Brain half have larger and less centralised eyes that rest closer to the sides of the skull to allow them to have a far wider range of vision. Ruth, however, has larger bulbous eyes that are slightly to the sides while still allowing her to see forward only if she so wishes thanks to her secondary set of eyelids which she can use as blinders. Her eyes aren’t black however, they are a deep, dark purple colour and her mouth is not quite as large as her Brawny brethren. She could bite onto you but probably wouldn’t be able to swallow your entire head like they could. The final noteworthy marking of her alien appearance is that of the markings across her entire body. Her head, face, neck and spinal cord (at least what you can see of it) have sky blue markings, like that of a calligraphy pen being dragged across a piece of paper to create weaving lines that crossover and connect like a fluid tapestry. The rest of her body that you could see (basically just her arms at this point) are covered in disjointed and jagged looking maroon coloured markings. They are erratic and seem to have no pattern to them at all. Both of these markings look almost as though they are not actually on the skin, almost like they are floating on the surface of water and are in constant motion. This race has no hair on their body and, their tendrils stretched out fully, stand at around 6’5” in length from head to… toe? Clothing: When in human form, Ruth can be found in a variety of business attire. Be it knee length pencil skirts with fitted blouses and a blazer, or perhaps she felt summery and is merely wearing an A-line skirt with a short sleeved gypsy top with a light jacket? She wears a large variety of clothing as she is so in love with it. She can also be seen in dresses, trousers, suits, shorts; basically everything at one point or another. She also will always be in high heels. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. She will be wearing them even when she’s kicking your ass. When she is not in her human form, Ruth’s alien body is covered in an extremely durable, high density but lightweight battle suit. It covers her entire torso and chest area but leaves her arms exposed from the shoulder areas down. Her tendrils are entirely covered and the material has strong grippers within the material that allow her to walk on any solid surface. Her hands, all four of them, wear different gloves with varying abilities which will be outlined later. The material is a light silvery grey shimmering material that closely resembles the natural skin tone so it almost looks as if she is wearing nothing and that her markings stop at her shoulders and neck area. Personality: Ruth is a very, very, very complex individual who is, technically, not actually an individual. Her core personality is strong, cool-headed, independent, manipulative, coercive, quick thinking, highly frickin' intelligent, tactical, charismatic and determined. She is one force of a woman and if you should find yourself in her path? Be prepared to be knocked the hell down and flattened beneath her immense force of presence. She is not a person to be trifled with and she has the capability to make your life, quite literally, a living hell should she deem it productive for her needs and wants. This is the Brainy variant that you will most commonly hear about when people talk about the Regional Manager. However, there is more than meets the eye with Ruth and it is because of this special trait of hers that she keeps her true face away from the public. She prefers to do her dealings with people from a distance but when left with no other alternative, she will get her hands dirty. This is where the rest of Ruth’s mind comes out to play. She suffers from having a divided mind and as such she has a second personality that brings out the brawn in our villainous Regional Manager. This side of her has the ability to have a very murderous streak and I do mean that literally. If you threaten her or really push her to the brink of her patience and piss her off? Say hello to the afterlife or whatever the hell it is you believe in because you can be fairly certain you will never see this world again. (Unless the glorious leader GM decides that you get to live. Spoil sport.) It is an emotionally unstable personality that can sometimes find it difficult to be reasonable. When in this state of mind, Ruth is very one track minded in the sense that she wishes to destroy you in every single way imaginable and possible. She will make you suffer ten times over and then have you begging for your death. Likes: Feminine Attire Books Stationary Crushing her enemies beneath her feet Getting her own way Slapping people across the face (“How you humans manage to stop yourselves from doing it more often is beyond me!”) Breaking bones Winning arguments Dislikes: Not getting her own way Crushing her enemies between her fingers Ruined books People stealing her stationary Going more than an hour without slapping someone across the face Getting blood on her designer clothing Power Rangers Cats Fears: Losing her status Failing to reach her aspiration Having her mind altered unwillingly Quirks: She clicks her tongue at her subordinates in moments of impatience, her fingers often drum on any hard surface when she is waiting, her eyes narrow when she is judging someone/something and she takes a long, deep breath when she is about to go all Iki’lek on your backside. History: Ruth’s race is one of the dozens of alien species that are part of the conglomerate known as Galatec. It was after Galatec began spreading themselves into dozens of planets that the Iki’lek’s truly realised they were split so purely down the middle in terms of what they can do. So the Brains began to work on finding a way to create the perfect Iki’lek. They used whatever resources became available to them as Galatec spread throughout the galaxy to create the perfect hybrid of the two halves of their race. Ruth was not the first iteration of this hybrid however. Oooh no no no, she was definitely not the first. She was the 42nd attempt and she was a complete accident, at least according to the scientists that created her. That was a long, long time ago so the specifics of it have all been compartmentalised in her mind and isn’t something she likes to dwell on too much. The experiments at that time of her life were hard and unforgiving but they allowed her to discover the powers and abilities that she has now. She was only reluctantly let go by the Iki’lek scientists when they were forced to explain what they were working on to the other alien species that also made up Galatec. It was when she was discovered that Galatec chose to put her through various training regimens to master control over her excessive strengths and courses for business and management due to her increased intelligence. During her rigorous physical training and exhausting mental training it was discovered that Ruth had a very split personality. She was two entirely different people depending on what she was focusing on at the time. This could become a problem for Ruth if she ever completely loses control over herself. It was a stressful time for her as she worked to become the “woman” that she is now. It was during high stress levels and the will to escape the constant work and training that Ruth discovered her ability to shapeshift. She wanted to be someone else and to get away without someone chasing after her. It took her some getting used to but she soon figured she could make herself look like anyone and anything so long as she focused on it in her mind firmly enough and essentially willed herself to be them. She took this opportunity to show Galatec she was useful for more than just her mind and muscles. They began using her to help settle new planets into their phase of “life”. As she could make herself look like one of the home planet species they figured it would be more appealing to hear from a “local” to how wonderful Galatec could be! Galatec gave her the regional management position on New Earth the moment that they set foot on it. She has been there since the beginning and has been working hard to make everything run as smoothly as possible for Galatec. Talents: Talking, feats if brute strength, crushing things, screwing with people’s minds via telepathy, hard worker, doesn’t give in easily, she doesn’t know when to quit in a fight. Hindrances: Dealing with animals, running when she’s not wearing heels in human form, unable to swim, cannot deal with seriously high pitched noises. Powers: Shapeshifting – As far as she knows, she is the only Iki’lek hybrid in existence so she is unsure if this shapeshifting ability is due to her hybrid nature or because of the accident that caused her creation. She can change her entire appearance to anything that she wishes on an organic level but she cannot impersonate an existing person. Her appearances are always an amalgamation of features she has seen on various people/images etc. Pain Inducement – Can induce pain, psychic torture through a mental link from about 10 feet away and the pain is much stronger when she is touching you. Force-Field Generation – Can create telekinetic barriers to block various power attacks and physical weapons. (I won’t abuse this and will always let the GM decide whether or not the barrier does/can block attacks etc.) Telepathy – Is able to read the minds of those around herself. She finds it easier to read the minds of those she has physical contact with but can read minds fairly well within the same room, however she is not limited to just this distance. She can read minds up to a 20 feet radius but the further the subject is to the edges of her zone, the less she can read clearly. Psychometry – The ability to read the past of a non-sentient object through touch. She can see the past 24 hours of an object. Can get a sense for who has touched/used/been around various items/rooms. Brute Strength – Can lift 20x her own weight Telekinesis – Control objects with one's mind. Cannot move anything larger than a car door. Equipment: Power Gloves – Four that look identical but each have their own powers. (They’re pretty damn basic weapons in the grander scheme of things. But considering the powers she has, I didn’t want to go OTT.) Heat Glove – Generates a high temperature on impact with a surface/person. Cold Glove – Generates a low temperature on impact with a surface/person. Vibro Glove – Causes vibrations on impact with a surface/person. Smoke Glove – Allows a smoke cloud to be generated when a small button is pressed. Otherwise it is just an armoured glove that hits a tiny bit harder than a plain old fist. Quotes: “Maggot.” “Take that filth out of my sight before I crush you.” “Watch. My. Lips.” Theme Song: This. :) Aspiration: Complete and utter domination of everything. The setting sun beamed into the executive office space through the opened glass balcony doors. Floor to roof windows matched the doors and made the entire wall seem as though it weren’t even there. A large leather office chair sat at a magnificent mahogany desk. The chair was facing out towards the balcony that was situated right behind it. A small, balding and fairly plump human male was standing in front of the desk, his hands wringing a very sweaty handkerchief out onto his highly polished black shoes. ”I-I… I can only apo-apolo-apologise L-l-lady Re-regional…” The man stumbled over his words as they tumbled from his mouth. The sound of drumming nails on leather came from the office chair that echoed around the now deathly silent room. The chair silently swivelled around to expose its occupant. The drumming abruptly stopped. Ruthalia Morphento, Regional Manager of Galatec on New Earth, sat upon her throne and exuded importance without making a motion or a sound. Her hair was bundled upon her head in a sleek bun that made her face look more severe than usual. Her cherry red lips were pursed with irritation and her brow may not have showed a single frown line but there was most definitely a scowl heading towards the poor man before her. “Apologies are for the pathetic. Are you one of the pathetic, Mr Grant? Don’t answer that.” Mr Grant gulped back his answer, his mouth hanging open until the moment that Ruth swiftly stood from her chair and began to walk around her desk. Her Jimmy Choo’s clicked on the marble flooring with each step until she stopped before the trembling form that was Mr Grant. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? Come, let us stand on the balcony.” She did not wait for a response before she clicked her way out of the office. The balcony was rimmed with waist high, black coloured, steel edged, frosted glass fencing. The sun was low enough that the shadows of the other high rise buildings and skyscrapers were now casting shadows across the building. Mr Grant hurried behind Ruth and huffed as he reached the fence. He swallowed hard and saw how high from the ground they currently were, 55 stories from the ground. “Let me explain what is going to happen, Mr Grant.” Hands clasped in front of Ruth as she rested them on the fence. She glanced to her right, watching Mr Grant as he puffed and panted. “You are going to pay for the mistakes you have made. You are going to thank me for this outcome and be grateful that worse didn’t happen to you.” Her entire body turned towards Mr Grant and a very sweet, unsettling smile spread across her face. ”Thank you for making this decision so easy to make, Mr Grant. I wish you all the best.” Ruth’s right hand sprung forward and grabbed Mr Grant by the neck. He coughed and spluttered, his hands grasping at her delicate looking arm. His face began to turn red when she lifted him from the ground, his stubby legs dangled as she rose his body higher than the topmost edge of the balcony edging. ”Do enjoy your complimentary skydiving lesson, Mr Grant. Consider it part of your severance package.” One fluid swing of her arm and Mr Grant was no longer on the 55th floor. An echoing yell of despair and utter terror rang out and lessened to the smallest whisper before long. Ruth made her way back into her office, closing the glass doors behind herself before settling behind her desk once more. A small yawn left her lips before she looked towards the door of her office. “Please send in my 4 o’clock.” Her thought rang out and the buzzer to her door rang out before the door opened to allow her next appointment to enter. A nervous, bespectacled woman shuffled in and looked around the room. There were no other exits from this office and the fear that spread over the woman’s face made Ruth’s face erupt into an ecstatic smile. “Please take a seat, Mrs Grant.”

Oliver Ollie travaillait plus vite et mieux qu'il ne l'avait été il y a quelques instants. Le chant l'a vraiment revigoré. Il a aussi gardé son esprit éveillé pour que son accent soit plus fort. Il a commencé à compter le nombre de pieux qu'ils avaient traversés comme si chacun était une réalisation majeure, "117 à terre! Une tonne de plus à y aller!" Quelques secondes plus tard, il a entendu Tommy appeler à propos d'une grosse veine avec laquelle il avait besoin d'aide. Tandis que le Githkin se tournait vers la direction de la voix de Tommy, Ollie vit dans le coin de son œil le Githkin écarlate et écarlate. Un éclair d'une expression que l'on pourrait décrire comme un mélange de colère et de désespoir est apparu sur le visage d'Ollie. - Non, c'est pas vrai. Pourquoi celui-là?Ollie n'avait même pas remarqué le gamin qu'il traînait au début, qu'est-ce que ça fait à ce gamin. Non, non, non, non. Ça ne peut pas être l'intention de le tuer. Je dois faire quelque chose, mais quoi? Pousse-toi!Alors que le Githkin en charge d'Ollie regardait le mur de pierre entre eux et la grande veine de Tommy, Ollie tenta de s'échapper. Attraper une pierre Ollie est venu derrière une cicatrice et se préparait à la frapper dans la tête.

Name: Oliver Johnson Nickname/Alias: Ollie Race: Human Age: 16 Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish. Gender: Male Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age. Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes. In The Mind Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself. He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him. Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air. Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it. Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys. Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone. Quirks: Is constantly zoning out. Where They’ve Been History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth. During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret. Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since. Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face. Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything. Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden. Bonus Round Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic." Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs. Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Green Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator. Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster. Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight. Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light. Zords: None at the moment.

Adelram Drax -- Oui, Madame Ruthalia. L'androïde géant, ayant été debout juste à côté de l'ancien Foreman Jo'ones maintenant, a tout simplement sorti de son bras et a saisi le contremaître par l'avant de son uniforme, pliant le haut du tissu sous ses doigts d'acier. Il éleva Jo'ones, les pieds du reptilien s'accroupissant dans l'air, une poignée de fer immobile. S'adressant aux assistants du contremaître : « Je ne peux pas être certain, mais je m'attends à une promotion à l'horizon pour l'un d'entre vous. » Le général, avec le contremaître dans sa main droite, mène avec son bras gauche. Il s'est légèrement écroulé en poussant une porte. Adelram marcha un petit peu parmi les ouvriers animés, captant quelques curieux aperçus de mineurs et de Githkin. Il a scanné l'environnement. "Emmenez le serpent ingrat dans une zone isolée, c'est facile à nettoyer." Peut-être une sorte de plate-forme métallique où il y avait peu d'activité. Hm. Adelram s'est retourné dans ses catalogues internes, mais en vain. Il ne faisait pas partie de ses catégories de recherche. Drax pensait que, étant donné qu'il y avait là une probabilité relativement élevée que cette situation ou semblable se reproduise, les scientifiques devraient mettre à jour sa base de données pour tenir compte d'une telle rétrogradation extravagante. Heureusement pour Drax, il avait le guide parfait dans sa main droite. -- Excusez-moi, Foreman Jo'ones, connaissez-vous une zone isolée qui serait facile à nettoyer en cas d'accident? Adelram a demandé, complètement sérieux.

Name: GD-002-17 Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath Race: Android/Robot Age: 7 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: "Male" Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form. Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints. His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder. In The Mind Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view. When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords. Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like. Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike. Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up. Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission. Where They’ve Been History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax. When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin. He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him. Talents: Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down. Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons. He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander. He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum. He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent. Hindrances: He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck. If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited. Powers: Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry. Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain. Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position. Equipment: Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers. One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies. Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time. And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering. He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air. Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out. Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision. Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets. Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload. Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired. Bonus Round Quotes: "..." "The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%." "..." Theme Song: i dunno Aspiration: File not found. "Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure. "The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun. "Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight. "This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply." The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor. The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail. Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking. Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up. Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind. When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere. If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed. He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level.

Clémentine s'inclina légèrement tandis qu'elle et Jonas furent congédiés et Shplorn s'excusa dans ses quartiers. Alors qu'elle se dirigeait vers la baie du véhicule, elle a décidé de faire un petit discours : « Merci de m'avoir accompagné, bien que je ne pense pas que la protection soit nécessaire ; à moins que les araignées ici soient plus dangereuses que je ne le pense. Oh, mais je ne rejette pas votre entreprise ou quoi que ce soit ; vous êtes libre de m'accompagner... je veux dire... je suppose que c'est votre travail... » Clémentine s'est chiée pour avoir tenté de tenir une conversation ; une compétence à laquelle elle savait qu'elle était mauvaise. Cette rupture de conversation avait Clémentine se sentant consciente de soi et maladroite, et elle espérait que Jonas remplirait le silence. Elle le regarda, remarquant sa démarche confiante et son attitude professionnelle, et elle voulut être aussi sûre d'elle-même. Lorsqu'ils sont arrivés à la baie du véhicule, Clementine a regardé autour de lui, pour voir si elle pouvait identifier l'employé responsable.

Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title? Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker Race: Humany Human of Humaness Age: 21 Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different. Gender: Male Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases. Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth. In The Mind Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need. Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things. Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others. Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black. Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can. Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts. Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own. Where They’ve Been History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens. Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free. After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously. It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him. Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things. Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger. Powers: N to the A biatch. Equipment: Blue Photon Morpher Red-Light-Emitting Necklace Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools. Ripped up miner clothes. Bonus Round Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!" Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Blue Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying. Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through. Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means. Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it.

C'est vrai.Samara est d'accord avec le mentor, mais elle n'a pas été en mesure d'éviter de penser aux risques qui pourraient en découler. Ce n'est pas qu'elle ne lui faisait pas confiance, c'est qu'elle a été forcée de faire confiance à un groupe d'inconnus avec une tâche monumentale en si peu de temps, et ce n'était pas quelque chose sur laquelle elle était cent pour cent. Sa passion de trouver la meilleure décision pour le meilleur résultat était suffisante pour lui donner des maux de tête sur une base régulière. Quelque chose pourrait toujours mal tourner avec cela; le système RD était pleinement fonctionnel étant donné qu'ils avaient une cible dans la gamme de la lumière, mais si les combinaisons n'avaient pas assez de puissance innée pour leur donner un bord? Et s'ils paniquaient du stress du combat? Ils n'ont pas tous été construits pour ce genre de pression. Il suffisait de faire exploser son esprit, car les résultats négatifs se heurtaient aux résultats positifs. Ils étaient venus trop loin pour juste perdre comme ça. Plaçant une main sur son front enflammé, Samara a essuyé une autre masse de sueur qui s'est formée. Elle s'est tournée et s'est approchée de son partenaire en rébellion, venant à côté de lui alors qu'il volait d'une caméra à l'autre, essayant de localiser les candidats. Voyant la futilité qu'il y avait avant, elle avait creusé une fois de plus dans sa poche pour récupérer le tampon miniature, l'ouvrir et le connecter à l'ordinateur juste devant. Comme il a mentionné l'état de préparation du système de traqueur, les lectures sur le pad--puissance, intégrité de la coquille, et est venu maintenant les visages et les profils physiques de ceux que les traqueurs seraient le ciblage--est apparu sur l'écran principal pour la vision des mentors. Déjà dessus, elle a répondu. Samara avait commencé à entrer des commandes sur le pad qui a permis à ces trackers d'être mis au travail réel. Ils pouvaient suivre le mouvement à une portée assez forte autour de cet emplacement, mais une autre force qu'ils avaient était la capacité de projeter des ondes de lecture d'images grâce à l'intégration d'un radar de pénétration au sol très avancé. Les traqueurs étaient sous-estimés en tant qu'individus, mais ensemble en tant que groupe, ils réussiraient à couvrir les profondeurs des mines en un temps record. Aussitôt commandés, les vagues commençaient à traverser la roche et la poussière tout autour d'elles. En quelques instants, ils avaient réussi à découvrir deux espoirs de ranger. "Suffisamment facile," Samara sourit alors que deux figures sur l'écran étaient localisées. Avec la préparation du RDS, Jonah et Clementine ont été marqués par une teinte violette et jaune sur ledit écran, étant ciblés pour le processus. Deux en bas. Il avait fallu un peu plus de temps, mais les vagues avaient réussi à voyager aussi bas que le niveau treize pour localiser les deux suivantes. Comme le duo précédent, les deux suivants ont été marqués par des teintes colorées sur l'écran RDS, Oliver avec le vert, et Tommy avec le bleu. Les yeux de Samara se rétrécissaient, surpris qu'il y en ait encore un qui manque au groupe. Le niveau 13 était déjà très bas. Pour Michael d'être toujours absent du radar était surprenant. Elle lui a donné un peu de temps, et un peu plus de temps, jusqu'à ce qu'une minute entière ait passé. Son expression était celle d'une confusion et d'une incrédulité flagrantes. Michael aurait dû être trouvé à l'heure actuelle, mais le radar a continué à ne rien montrer dans chaque emplacement connu de l'exploitation minière de Red Rock. Les nerfs avaient commencé à travailler, la rendant plus triste que ravie. Les quatre autres étaient simples à localiser et étaient même en paires pour faciliter les choses. Samara ne pouvait pas expliquer ça, et c'était gênant. Être le meilleur à ce qu'elle fait signifie l'échec ne pourrait pas être une option, surtout quand ils étaient à peine commencés. Elle a finalement dit, essayant d'avoir les vagues aller dès le début, plus près de la base, et de s'étendre vers l'extérieur une fois de plus. Le système a assez bien fonctionné pour trouver les quatre premiers, donc il ne pourrait pas être cassé. Les yeux de Samara scannaient les systèmes de tunnel et les zones d'opération pour l'installation avec les vagues, le ralentissant et s'assurant qu'ils ne le manquaient pas d'une manière ou d'une autre. Ils avaient passé Jonah et Clem – déjà verrouillés par le RDS – et ont voyagé plus bas, passant bientôt à nouveau Oliver et Tommy. Rien. Il faut qu'il soit quelque part, Samara a murmuré avec inquiétude. Il n'était pas impossible pour eux de continuer sans lui, mais Power Rangers a beaucoup mieux travaillé dans un ensemble complet. Il n'était pas haut, ni bas, il n'était tout simplement nulle part où se trouver. « Continuons-nous avec le plan et trouvons-le plus tard? » Elle a demandé à son partenaire, qui était sûr de savoir comment procéder.

Samara Morgan Name - Samara Morgan Nickname/Alias - N/A Race - Human Age - 23 Ethnicity - African-American Gender - Female Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis. Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend. In The Mind Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends. She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest. However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood. Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right. Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously. Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames. Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her. Where They’ve Been History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background. One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed. It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold. It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking. The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way. Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising. Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture. Powers - N/A Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone. Bonus Round Quotes - No. Theme Song - Never. Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary.

Bien sûr, mam, s'il vous plaît reposez-vous bien. Maintenant, ça a frappé un nerf dans son os pas droit. Elle l'a renvoyé, avec un étranger. Elle s'est laissée seule, quelque chose qui contredit son comportement antérieur. Les choses commençaient à être moins logiques et ça n'allait pas bien. S'il s'en souciait, il aurait pu dire quelque chose mais son travail n'était pas de questionner les ordres, c'était de les suivre. Il avait quelque chose de bien et pendant qu'il entendait encore cet écho agaçant d'un certain quelqu'un dans sa tête, il n'avait pas l'intention de se rebeller et de ruiner sa propre vie. Pourtant, le comportement de son supérieur l'attaquait, mais alors qu'il marchait avec le comptable, il se trouva à le pousser vers le fond de son esprit. Mieux vaut être alerte que distrait par le doute. Et pour ce qui est de la comptable, elle était... parlante. Il n'était pas un grand fan de parler aux autres, évidemment, et il n'aimait pas vraiment écouter les autres, surtout quand sur le travail comme c'était une énorme distraction. Au lieu de cela, il garda le silence et regarda vers l'avant alors qu'ils marchaient vers leur destination. Lorsqu'ils ont atteint les véhicules, il s'est tenu les bras derrière le dos et les pieds ensemble, reprenant sa position professionnelle plus tôt alors qu'ils attendaient l'employé en question.

Name: Jonah Fallen Nickname/Alias: No Race: Human Age: 21 Ethnicity: East German on his mother's side, Russian on his father's side. He's also part polish and 1/15th Indian(not Native American) from his great grandmother. Gender: Male Appearance: Jonah is a light skinned male standing at 6'1 with toned muscles from working and his training. He has dirty blonde hair that he likes to keep short and sweet blue eyes that are usually seen sharpening at things he finds annoying. Along with those penetrating blues, he wears a set of thick rimmed glasses and keeps a small “glasses cleaning kit” in his pocket when ever maintenance is required. Despite working out daily, he appears as an average looking young man when wearing long sleeves since he focuses more on toning his muscles rather than having huge ones. His slightly chiseled features are smooth but he has some hair on his stomach. Clothing: He likes to keep things simple so he'll often be seen in a plain shirt and some jeans, he doesn't lean towards one color over the rest but is often seen in black or blue since his mother used to tell him it fit him best. He prefers short sleeved shirts and long pants but will change that up if it becomes uncomfortable to move in. For that same reason, he often sports sneakers as they are easy to move around in. In The Mind Personality: Jonah has an independent personality, he strives to be the best he can be because that's all he knows how to be. He keeps a cool head under pressure and always does his best to figure out the best solution to the problem at hand. He doesn't believe in good or evil, stating that all things are objectively of the same value. Often quiet unless spoken to, Jonah keeps an air of contemplation about himself and makes a note to distance himself from others so that they don't become a liability. While this method can supply an incredibly sturdy strength, Jonah's logical outlook can at times give way to his inter turmoils. See, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he is not always as cool as he thinks he is. While strong and independent, Jonah's attempts at apathy hides the fact that he does care about the people around him. His emotions are often the one thing he believes holds him back but they often supply more to his motives than he'll let on. Never to show fear, never to admit defeat, Jonah's logical thoughts can turn to mush when faced with having to deal with some of his inner-demons. Likes: Books that make you think about things. Silence. Dislikes: Stupid people. Self righteousness. Fears: That his rationality is just cowardice, that he's simply avoiding his greater emotions and is a hypocrite for telling people to not be controlled by them when he's letting them force him to flee from himself. Quirks: He loves to read, mainly books on philosophy which can sometimes overlap with books on strategy though most books on the art of war were destroyed. When upset or feeling unhinged, he'll take to cleaning his glasses to regain a form of control over his person. Where They’ve Been History: Jonah grew up in a small apartment in a not-so-friendly part of the city. It wasn't perfect but he had what he needed. His parents, on the other hand, were not quite as okay with their arrangement as he was. Starting from the womb, his parents pressured him to be the golden-child that would sky rocket them to the big times! Whether it was mathematics or sports, Jonah was told that he had to succeed to make life worth living for his family. He followed every rule but still slipped up, receiving negative reinforcement when he did so. But, eventually, he began to catch his stride. He started winning soccer games and getting A's on his tests and suddenly the negative reinforcement stopped. He was happy, his parents were happy, everything was better. Until he started hating his activities, started getting tired of waking up and never doing the things he wanted. At first, he hated this turning in his stomach because he loved his parents but he still couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him so mad at them some times. He didn't have friends to talk to so he sought knowledge in his books. The library was a short walk from his home so he'd spend as much time as he could just reading. He had a love for philosophy and thinking and used ideals he learned to come to the conclusion that what was happening to him wasn't a bad thing, it was just a “thing” and that him giving way to subjective beliefs was what was causing him problems internally. Eventually he began to distance himself from his parents until he didn't see them as his parents anymore, he saw them as just another problem. By the time he was ten years old, he had developed a form of detached apathy, a learned behavior he adopted to keep his emotions in check. Suddenly, he didn't smile as much. He didn't laugh at all and he didn't speak quite as much as he used to. He was only a child but he got better at rationalizing with age and by the time Galatec seized complete control, he was already stead-fast in his thought process. Besides, honestly, life didn't really change when they arrived, not for him any way. His parents went to work and left him with his books, though the material was now more about how to serve the greater good than anything else. They confiscated his other books on philosophical thinking and mathematics, apparently those were “dangerous books that brought about dangerous thoughts”. He grew up in that situation, unaware of how much the world was going to continue to change. Time went on, and just as he thought, people began to cope with the change. It had been years, and like all things that occur, what was once “horrible tragedy” became “yesterday”. Life was in a constant state of flux and he wouldn't let such a fact break his concentration. His mother, now a widow after the passing of her late-husband, pushed Jonah to make a name for himself in the new society, she saw that he was different than everyone else now and thought she could bank on it. Jonah agreed because he didn't want to be thought of as expendable, besides, working hard was how he made it through life, keeping his center is how he survived. He had to keep a rational mind and continue moving forward. And that's exactly what he did. He began working as soon as possible, Galatec didn't care about age so long as their workers knew what they were doing. Eventually, he stood out and worked his way up, volunteering for the riskier parts of the job until he was being looked at by the higher ups. He refused to sit idle, not for honor or pride but because he knew that he only got one chance at life, knew what it meant to waste time and effort. Through it all, he kept his composure. He rationalized everything he saw, closed his eyes and reminded himself about the philosophies he put his trust in because that's all he had to stand by. Maybe he had problems with the blank eyes of some of the other workers, maybe he would be up at night, trying to see why his own eyes still flickered with life, maybe he wondered about the girl he once saw with the same eyes as him. But that didn't matter, work mattered, staying alive mattered. “You don't get second chances at life.” He reminded himself on those nights. “Galatec is in control, there is nothing you can do, don't be illogical, keep yourself centered...” Like that, every day. “What is is, and what is not is not.” They were truths, he could rely on truths. He just couldn't stand with them in his entirety. After all, he was still human. When the opportunity arose, Jonah volunteered for bodyguard duty, knowing that it meant he'd be given martial training and hoping it would supply a better standing for himself and, by extension, his mother. He was healthy enough, had a strong build from staying fit so he didn't have much trouble being selected. His training went by pretty easily as he took rather well to punching things into submission, perhaps due to some seriously repressed rage? Whose to say? After the initial adrenaline of letting loose for the first time wore off, he began practicing more at home, honing his reflexes as best he could. While not a god of the martial arts, he was able to prove himself worthy enough to stand guard for some big shots in the corporation. It didn't involve much, just watching and waiting for anything to slide by, a pretty simple procedure. As time went on, he did his work well, making a small name for himself with the others in his profession. It was an easy life really, easier than manual labor though how he trained at home, you'd think other wise but he still felt an unease about himself . One of which was when he first met a member of the rebels, a group that had yet to come to terms with what was and tried to ruin the status quo. Didn't they understand the feedback of what they were doing, how nothing changed but the amount of panic they caused to minor citizens? He had been on a regular patrol when he saw one, a rebel running from some other guards. He moved to assist but noticed that he recognized her, she was the girl with eyes like his, eyes still flickering with life. He wasn't sure why, but he let her pass, let a dangerous rebel pass by without a fight. She looked at him at as she ran by, first with confusion and then with a small smile continued on her way. He didn't realize it until turning around to see his reflection in a window, didn't even recognize the unfamiliar sensation... But he had a smile on his face as he watched her disappear around a corner.... After the encounter, he moved out of his old home and got a small apartment, feeling that the connections he had were clouding his judgment. Something about having to see his mother's eyes made him nervous so by 20 he was gone. Before he left, he promised her that he'd keep doing his best, though he didn't see the point in the ritual since he planned to do so anyway. His life was steady, to a degree but all of that, his worries and his real desire, came to a front when he was faced with a life changing decision. It had been so normal, training had gone well and nothing out of the ordinary had shown up as he escorted his charge through the street. Until suddenly, everything went to hell. Someone blew a bullhorn and a fire erupted on his left, a bit distraction for the person running towards the target, his charge. The attacker, a masked assailant ran in a panicked frenzy with a scream of desperation. They were part of the rebellion. Obviously, the attack failed, Jonah struck their weapon to the ground before a sharp low kick knocked away their legs and they were falling to ground. The assailant scrambled to their feet and began to scurry away, Jonah gave chase and they made their way all the way out to the coal mines. “Stop chasing me!” The assailant shouted as they jumped into the large ditch where the entrance was located. The masked fighter tripped on their landing and fell with a huff. As Jonah followed suit, landing in a roll, the attacker made one last lunge that Jonah quickly put a stop to when he threw them to the ground with one arm twisted behind their back. “Let me go!” “You are weaker than me, you should have been prepared for this outcome.” He responded as he pulled off her mask to reveal.... The girl with eyes like his. Yes, the girl he had let go earlier came back, the one he used to see when he thought about the life he was living came back after failing once already. Why did she come back, why didn't she learn her lesson and why was he thinking about letting her go again. Why did seeing this person fighting still make his heart stop a second, make him think about what he could be doing differently. “I know you, you're the guy who let me by the last time.” She said in realization. “And you're the one who was dumb enough to go and come back after getting a second chance at life.” He responded, deadpan as he pulled her to her feet. “What point is there to life if you can't make your own choices?” She retorted with a strange fire in her eyes. She broke out of the grip and glared at him. “You and I have the same eyes you should see things a lot clearer.” “Don't you understand, the war's already over.” He responded coolly. “This isn't your last pitch effort to save the world, we're not one city away from being under their control and you aren't the last key to the puzzle.” His steely blue eyes cut through her. “We've lost, the invasion you're trying stop? That's come and gone and people have moved on with their lives, what is is and what is not is not so stop living in a fairy tale world and get it together or you won't even have a life to cry about.” Those were the facts, the rebels should know that. Galatec was already in control, there wasn't a war to fight anymore, all that was left were lives to live as best as possible. Throwing yourself into a self-righteous ideal only serves to get you killed and there's no coming back from that. “Clearly, it was a mistake to let you go, I won't make it again.” “Okay,” She still had a smile on her face though. “than why am I not being turned in right now?” And then he had to be quiet as her smirk grew. “Why do I know that you're never going to turn me in?” She walked up close and never broke eye contact. “It's because you know what they'll do to me, don't you?”She took a step forward and he took one back. “You get how that's wrong, and you care.” She stepped passed him and he turned his head but didn't move to stop her. “Ya know, a guy like you could do something if he wanted, way more than me.” She climbed out of the hole before turning to look down at him and give a quick and playful salute. “Maybe stop trying to make sense of the situation and find out what you really believe, you're a human so you should act like one!” She ran off around yet another corner, leaving him to his thoughts. “Crap..” He said to himself. Why did he let her let go...again!? Why did he smile the last the time, why doesn't he feel bad about doing it now? Maybe it was an idiotic thing to give up on the ideals of right and wrong, maybe he had been idiotic about a lot of things. He had tried doing it his way for as long as he could remember, it was how he survived but was surviving and living the same thing or was he making them the same so he could deal with the situation? What were his real motives for his way of thinking, how much was logic and how much was fear? He stood there at the entrance of the mine, thinking to himself about what he'd do next. Talents: Logical thinking, more than anything else. Jonah may be good at fighting but that's a skill, his true talent, which could be considered the back bone of all his skills, is his logical mindset which gives him the ability to strike precisely and plan accordingly. Hindrances: Empathizing, holding his temper, admitting he was wrong, and expressing himself. Equipment: Morpher(Blue Ranger). A normal combat knife he keeps on him for special occasions and his glasses/glasses cleaning kit. Bonus Round Quotes: “What is is, and what is not is not.” Theme Song: nope Aspiration: To find out what he really wants in life. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation:Violet Primary Weapon:THE PHOTON BOW The photon bow is a light based, long bow that generates arrows of pure energy to strike down its target. The bow is capable of firing multiple arrows at once with its average maximum being four unless overcharged (which will result in a rain of twelve arrows before the weapon is forced to recharge). By turning the bow, one can focus the arrows into one incredibly condensed and narrow blast, but this attack takes a lot of time to charge which leaves the archer open to attack. As each attack's quantity and quality are affected by both how long and in what way a person pulls back the bow string, the bow is not for the clumsy or undisciplined. It takes timing and calculation to bring out this weapon's maximum potential. Energy Shield: His shield is a circular shape, perfect for blocking attacks. It's a very nice shade of purple and glows in the dark. Blaster Design: Silver trim, black trigger, mostly violet. It has a sleek design with the gun's barrel having a thin line of silver across its top. The actual muzzle is the same pitch black as the trigger and there's a neon line of green running along the side of the gun. Powers: As the violet ranger, Jonah has the ability to see across all spectrum of sight. He makes calculations on how to strike next by scanning people's bodies with X-Ray vision and using infrared, he has the ability to shoot people down and fight accurately in the shadows. Along with X-ray and infrared, Jonah can see UV light and Radio waves along with much more. With vision beyond an eagle's, Jonah can strike down any opponent with deadly precision. Zords:N/A Jonah stood behind a lone tree with his binoculars set to night-vision, the darkness only lightened by the stray strands of the moon.. He had set up his sting in a small park for kids, surrounded by small shrubbery and a few trees all of which was going to be demolished soon. Across from him stood the construction zone where they were working on a 20 floor parking garage. As if the world needed more places for Galatec to park their fancy vehicles. He was there because there had been a report of beasts getting loose from the science division, a few Githkin test subjects had broken out of the lab and ran off into the city with a few people commenting on seeing them in the park at night. No one was advised to stay indoors because Galatec didn't want panic to ruin their precious balance which meant the people of the city were being left high and dry. Instead, curfew was moved up to 9:00 pm, lucky there weren't any encounters in that short amount of time. But now, night had fallen and anyone not in doors was a target which didn't seem to matter as there had been no sign of any people for awhile. Jonah wasn't sure if he was happy or sad about that. In this part of town there was always someone trying to get one over on you, he remembered hearing gun shots from his window from time to time, now he doesn't hear anything, no crimes, no muggings just the silence of night. “Every thing's so peaceful now.” He thought to himself as he watched the area. It was nights like these where he was the most conflicted. He was about to stop a few monsters that could kill a lot of people but he wasn't sure if the city has ever been safer than it is now. Nights like these could happen every day, a few Githkin escaping every night and it might not even make a dent in Earth's war torn history. This was one of the main reasons he couldn't except the other ranger's idea of a righteous victory, he couldn't say that Galatec wasn't a benefit to earth as a whole. He certainly got higher in this society than his background would have allowed him to before, there wasn't much prejudice or pollution or war. Just work and while that might be boring he couldn't say that weren't plenty of people who should only have that option in life. *rustle* His gaze instantly went to a bush on the opposite side of his hiding place. His hand went for his morpher but he didn't move, he wouldn't till he confirmed his target. As he watched, two figures popped out of the bush, they looked around warily before fulling stepping out into the moonlight, revealing their small frames. Children, two of them, they walked around as if trying to find something. The first was about twelve while the other was at least 13. Jonah didn't move from his post but instead used his binoculars to scan them closer. He noticed that they weren't frightened, instead being rather resolved. Judging by their hooded attire, they must have planned to be outside tonight. Hooded children out scouting the night sky with an emotion in their eyes, they must be part of the .5% meaning.. They were rebel scouts. “Great, just what I needed.” Jonah scoffed to himself, obviously not thrilled with the idea of having to deal with another rebel problem. Those guys really need to start leaving things to the professionals. Not that he was any more of a professional than they were but he definitely had more combat training. Luckily they didn't spot him as he hid in the shadows, to bad a very aggressive group of something had the duo in their sights. The rogue Githkins, five of them. The creatures moved toward the children and they screamed. The scout duo clearly hadn't had access to the same reports that his team had. The younger child ducked behind the eldest but still held some form of courage as the creatures drew nearer. The first Githkin raised it's hand to strike but the blow was offset by a timely thrown stone that knocked it's hand off course. The beast quickly turned to identify the attacker only to be met with a larger stone striking it in the face, in fact they were all being pelted with stones, most at their legs and ankles but a number of them aimed at their eyes and face. The children were initially scared but then became rather perplexed when they saw their would-be attackers being pelted. They stood there curious before a glimpse of a figure in the shadows ushering them to escape had them nodding and running back into the bushes, leaving as fast as they had come. “Perfect.” Jonah thought within the shadows. “They didn't see my face and I managed to sit some of those idiots in the eye.” He quickly scanned them over, three of the five still looked like they had a decent control of their faculties. “Even blind, that's still too many for my liking, I'll have to fight them on my terms if I wanna win.” And then he remembered the construction yard. “That's it.” He dashed out of the foliage to close the distance between him and the Githkin, Shocked at first, one made a fierce swing he ducked and rolled under before popping up to his feet in between the two blinded by stones. He deflected a left hook with an open palm before his leg whipped up to kick both eye damaged Githkin's in the chest, leg swinging back and forth between the two of them. "As I thought." The attack merely stunned them and soon the others were on him as well, swinging violently as he back flipped away and skidded to a stop. “That's right, your enemy's right here,” He cockily saluted before running into the parking garage shadows with the Githkin's hot on his trail. “Alright,” He swiped his hand over his wrist and his morpher flashed “Strike force, flash forward!” In the parking garage on level three, the Githkin's crept. Deep into the shadows they lurked, foot steps echoing in the hollow space, often turning at the sight of a shadowy gray figure passing by them like a phantom. Their eyes scanned the area for their prey but to no avail. As they passed by a pillar of stone, a sound, a click, had them halting in surprise. They lay unaware of who was on the other side. "X-Ray activated..." Jonah, donned in dark purple armor of his ranger form stood with bow drawn. The dim light of the bow focused and tightened as the arrow of light condensed. "Focusing rate: 100%" The creature's pondered as they began to take a step closer to the pillar of stone. "Firing..." Jonah released the bow string and the arrow shot through the stone pillar and the skull of the Githkin on the other side. The other soldiers went frantic on the defense when their companion turned into ooze but Jonah was already moving. "Infrared activated." His vision swapped out and suddenly he could see all of them clearly as they scrambled in the darkness. He pulled his bow string back before dashing out of his hiding place in a dive roll, landing on one knee with bow drawn and arrows already appearing between his fingers. He let it loose, just as the nearest Githkin began to notice his presence, and littered its body with three arrows to its chest. It screeched before dissolving and suddenly he couldn't hide anymore. They closed in but Jonah was already readying his bow as they rushed him. “Here we go..” He dashed backwards as one came down on him with a punch that cracked the concrete. As it moved to continue its rampage, he released a charged arrow through its chest before running up to back-kick it into the others and fire another three arrows into the group. As they scrambled to regroup in the shadows, he switched to X-Ray and scanned them for damage. “That last attack was on stun but the one in front received most of the damage and can't move, I'll focus my attacks on the two left as the weakened one slows them down.” By the time he finished his thought they were on him again. He back-flipped to dodge a high swing and side stepped the flying kick from another, striking the attacking Githkin with his bow before having to dash backwards and avoid the mighty swing of the weakened Githkin. He returned to the fray with a flying knee that struck the weakened Githkin in the chest, knocking it into one of its companions and freeing Jonah to strike down the one now left alone. It moved to attack but he back-flipped away to skid across the ground with bow drawn. As the arrow charged, he dodged the incoming blows from the Githkin soldier; ducking and weaving past each punch, smacking away the clumsy kick that followed with a high kick of his own and bringing up his bow before releasing it at point blank range to turn the soldier's skull into gray goop and watching as the rest of its body dissolved. Just as the other two Githkins managed to center themselves and go for a retaliation, his purple suit turned dark gray and he faded back into the shadows. Like a phantom, he circled them as he slid from pillar to pillar in the darkness. With a steady hand he pulled back his bow string and two arrows appeared between his fingers. The light of the arrows released a light shine as they began to glow. And then he was dashing forward He released the two arrows, hitting the back of the weakened Githkin's legs and making it buckle to its knees. As it went to get up, Jonah ran up its back and used it as a spring board to become air borne with bow string drawn. Before the other Githkin could think, it was struck with three stun arrows to the chest and Jonah was closing the remaining distance with a flying kick that had it skidding backwards. As the Githkin stumbled to regroup, Jonah hit the ground in a roll, landing right below the soldier on one knee with bow pointing straight up. "Firing." He released and the concussive force smashed into the Githkin's jaw, sending it flying up into the air and falling to the ground with a splat. Standing to full height, he turned, fingers already pulling back his bow string. He casually walked by the remaining drone and with out looking, let go the arrow of light between his fingers. The last thing it heard was the whirl of energy.... Jonah breathed heavily as his ranger form shattered out of existence. He had been lucky, the obstacles in the unfinished parking garage gave him ample back up for his strategy. Had he been left in the open, the tide could have very well changed to their favor but what could have been wasn't really important now. By hook or by crook he was still alive and the kids were still alive, that was all that mattered now. He sighed to himself, heart still racing from the exertion. He waited for a moment to steady himself before he retrieved the item he had been hiding in the back of his pants. A flare gun, simple but elegant in its design. He pointed the weapon up at the sky and fired. The flare flew high into the sky before exploding like a fire work. “That'll get Galatec's attention.” He noted. Now notified in as proper a way as possible, the corporation could retrieve their lost and unstable experiments. Jonah wasn't totally pleased with the idea of assisting someone he had designated as his enemy but he couldn't clean this up on his own and Galatec had better facilities for the alien soldiers albeit slave ready more than anything else. “I guess that means the mission's over.” “Time to head back to base.”

C'était une situation, n'est-ce pas? Foreman Jo'ones a regardé Ruth tout le temps qu'elle parlait, en maintenant le contact visuel, mais à la mention d'être écorché vivant, il a tout simplement clignoté terne, comme si confus. Est-ce qu'elle vient de faire cet ordre? C'était sûrement une blague? Après avoir travaillé dur pour Galatec pendant les 432 dernières années de sa vie, il devait être rejeté, comme ça? Ça devait être une blague! Mais ce n'est pas possible, car Jo'ones savait que Drax était incapable de comprendre de telles choses. Ses craintes n'ont été confirmées que lorsque l'androïde colossal l'a saisi et l'a traîné hors de la salle de contrôle. -- Excusez-moi, Foreman Jo'ones, connaissez-vous une zone isolée qui serait facile à nettoyer en cas d'accident? a demandé au robot sans un soupçon de remords ou d'ironie dans son ton. Jo'ones a lutté, inutilement, pendant un moment, mais a ensuite eu une rétorsion. « Ici, c'est bien », grogne-t-il alors qu'il tirait sa main de sa poche et claquait sa paume contre le bras que Drax tenait le contremaître. Un puissant courant électrique s'est répandu à travers le robot. Les dégâts ont été minimes, négligeables même, mais il a foiré avec ses circuits juste assez pour causer un spasme, libérant le contremaître. Jo'ones a atterri sur ses pieds habilement, puis a tenu sa paume ouverte pour l'androïde à voir. Il avait une sorte d'appareil de choc autour de sa main. Une rapide analyse de sa base de données a informé Drax que c'était le Tesla Charger monté à la main, numéro standard pour le personnel militaire de Galatec il y a des décennies. La technologie dépassée, mais toujours utile dans une pincée comme on vient de le prouver. "Je ne descendrai pas sans me battre, robot!" Jo'ones a commencé un flot de coups de poing contre Drax, le poing frapper contre le métal plus vite que la plupart des gens pouvaient réagir, et assez puissant pour tuer carrément. Encore une fois, Adelram Drax n'était pas la plupart des gens, et les coups, s'il avait des capteurs tactiles, ne feraient que le chatouiller. Pendant ce temps, Ruth a continué de surveiller la station minière pour tout ce qui sort de l'ordinaire. Pour la plupart, tout semblait bien. Les esclaves étaient dur au travail, Githkin gardait une surveillance étroite sur eux, le même vieux. Mais quelque chose lui a attiré l'œil. Deux jeunes humains, un homme et une femme, marchaient ensemble vers la station d'amarrage du véhicule. Ils voyageaient ensemble sans surveillance. Les scanners de l'écran ont identifié les deux comme étant Jonah Fallen, un humain ayant le statut d'indemnité de fidélité, et Clementine Mayweather, une employée de bureau. Selon l'écran, les deux étaient actuellement sous la direction de Red Rock's Director of Accounting, Shplorn. Qu'est-ce qu'ils faisaient dans la baie du véhicule? Eh bien, deux humains avec un statut privilégié ne pourraient pas faire quoi que ce soit hors de l'ordinaire, pas vrai? La tentative de Clémentine à la conversation a apparemment été sans réponse puisque Jonas est resté stoïque et silencieux comme jamais, forçant les deux à voyager avec une interaction minimale. La marche a pris environ quatre minutes, au cours de laquelle ils avaient eu leur accès vérifié par pas moins de trois guirlandes de sécurité et deux guirlandes de cartes-clés, mais finalement ils ont atteint un ascenseur qui les a conduit au niveau du sol. Une fois que les portes se sont séparées pour eux, Clémentine et Jonas se sont retrouvés à l'intérieur d'un grand cintre de véhicule. Environ deux douzaines de véhicules de différentes formes et tailles étaient immédiatement visibles, tandis que quelques mécaniciens travaillaient sur eux. Au centre de la pièce était le plus grand de tous les véhicules, la taille d'un bâtiment! Malheureusement, il a été gardé de vue sous une sorte de bâche, avec une barricade disposée autour et deux guirlandes debout sur la garde. Une fois qu'ils sont entrés dans la baie du cintre, une femme portant une combinaison bleue recouverte de graisse les a approchés. Elle est apparue humaine, sauf pour les yeux argentés. Ceux qui connaissent la xénologie pourraient facilement la choisir comme mercure, une espèce extraterrestre qui pourrait se transformer en mercure liquide à volonté. L'étiquette du nom sur sa combinaison lisait "Kylo". "Bonjour. Mon nom est Kylo, et je suis le mécanicien en chef ici. Que puis-je faire pour vous?" Tommy a pu mettre une petite partie de l'oranium dans ses poches, son petit trésor personnel. Quand il a appelé pour obtenir de l'aide, le githkin qui veillait sur lui et Oliver se sont tournés pour regarder à l'intérieur de la crevasse dans laquelle Tommy avait serré. Il a regardé autour d'un moment puis a crié un seul mot en réponse. "Viens." La guirlande à visage de cicatrice a tourné Oliver un regard comme il est passé, un regard qui a juste osé la puanteur. On dirait qu'il s'est souvenu d'Oliver autant qu'Oliver s'en est souvenu. C'était une chose, mais tout ce qu'il avait prévu de faire avec ce gamin en était une autre et Oliver ne pouvait pas supporter une telle injustice. Il a attrapé un rocher et, profitant de sa distraction de supervision de gant, a tenté de se faufiler sur l'extraterrestre à visage de cicatrices. Il a pu monter juste derrière la créature, et a fait descendre la pierre sur sa tête! La githkine libère l'enfant par réflexe et saisit sa tête dans la douleur, mais se rétablit rapidement. Il a filé autour et s'est approché, agrippant Oliver par le cou. Avec une force impressionnante, il éleva le jeune homme hors du sol, l'étouffant. C'est alors que l'autre githkin est monté en courant, après avoir pris connaissance de l'échouement. Au milieu de tout ça, l'enfant s'en est sorti au coin de la rue, hors de vue. C'est pas vrai! La poussière et l'air chaud ont explosé après l'explosion, passant devant Michael. S'il n'avait pas protégé son visage, ses yeux seraient dans une douleur énorme en ce moment. En l'état, la poussière s'éteignit et Michel put faire les fruits de son travail. La grande porte en métal avait été ouverte, révélant un ascenseur à puits de mine. On aurait dit qu'il pouvait contenir une trentaine de personnes. La lumière s'est allumée et éteinte, mais j'espère que l'ascenseur lui-même fonctionnera mieux que la lumière. Le mentor sourit en reconnaissance des réalisations de Samara, vraiment fière de la technologie de suivi qu'elle avait développée. Il n'y avait aucun moyen qu'il ait accompli ce qu'il a fait sans son aide, c'était sûr. Il a hurlé une fois que Samara a localisé les deux premiers jeunes. Une fois que les deux seconds ont été trouvés, il n'y en aurait qu'un à aller. Fantastique! Mais il n'a pas été retrouvé. Michael n'a pas pu être trouvé. Qu'est-ce que...? Après tout le travail qu'il avait mis à changer d'horaire pour amener ce gamin à Red Rock, maintenant il n'était pas là? Ça ne pouvait pas être vrai! Rapidement, il s'est dirigé vers un autre terminal informatique et l'a tapé dessus. Quelques secondes plus tard, il regarda Samara et dit : « Les registres des installations montrent qu'il s'est enregistré. C'est inquiétant." "Continuons-nous le plan et le trouverons-nous plus tard?" elle a demandé. Il a hurlé. "Nous allons devoir le faire. C'est la seule occasion que nous aurons pour que beaucoup d'entre eux soient ensemble à la fois. Les transferts que j'ai pris en charge ne sont valables que pour une journée. Activer le système RD." Il se leva et se composa. Après une profonde respiration, le mentor a fait une promenade au centre de la caverne qu'il utilisait comme base d'opérations, près d'un projecteur léger. Les quatre qu'ils ont localisés devraient apparaître directement devant lui, si tout allait selon le plan, et il ferait de son mieux pour se présenter et expliquer la situation. Nouveau Angel Grove. Capitole de la Nouvelle Terre. Le siège régional de Galatec était situé dans cette ville, la ville la plus peuplée de la planète, estimée à 4,3 millions de personnes lors du dernier recensement. Mable a fait un concert ce soir, comme elle l'a fait tous les soirs. Cette fois-ci, elle révélait une chanson toute nouvelle, une chanson qui, selon la propagande de l'actualité, était une « image dans son cœur ». Ce matin, c'était la première fois qu'elle voyait les paroles, et elle devait maîtriser la performance à temps pour un spectacle en trois heures? Oui, c'est ça. C'était au milieu de l'après-midi, et Mable était assis sur le siège arrière d'une limousine. Le ciel était ensoleillé et chaud, comme prévu par les opérateurs météorologiques Galatec, tandis que peu de gens erraient dans les rues. Et pourquoi le feraient-ils? La plupart seraient en train de travailler sous terre ou dans des usines ou dans un cube de bureau mort. Les rares personnes qu'elle pouvait voir par la fenêtre étaient soit les humains privilégiés qui avaient un statut spécial de "Loyalty Benefit Status", soit des représentants extraterrestres de Galatec. Et des soldats de la paix githkines, bien sûr. L'agent et directeur de Mables, Gajoon, s'est assis à côté d'elle. Il avait l'air d'une sorte de poulpe bipède, aux mains serrées dans un costume, portant de minuscules lunettes. Il effectuait actuellement une sorte d'affaires sur son téléphone portable, tapant avec ses doigts gélatineux, ignorant complètement son environnement. Mine Dumas C'était une autre belle journée dans la mine de Dumas! Jackson avait déjà travaillé pendant deux bonnes heures au milieu du rocher et de la pierre. Aujourd'hui, il a eu le travail d'utiliser une grande perceuse pour dégager quelques décombres. Qu'est-ce que c'est drôle! Galatec n'était pas super soigné et juste? Je veux dire, des exercices? C'est juste cool. Et cette githkine qui veille sur son dos en tout temps, quel bon gars. Galatec était ravi de lui offrir un bon ami pour le tenir compagnie! Vroom Vroom! C'est là qu'une cloche a sonné dans les cavernes de la mine, signalant une rupture. Jackson a une solide 3 minutes pour boire de l'eau, prendre une collation, et reprendre son souffle. Une fois que la cloche a sonné, certains mineurs de la région ont posé leur équipement et ont commencé à faire la conversation. Les plus proches de Jackson étaient deux filles jumelles, probablement une vingtaine. Même dans l'éclairage lumineux Galatec filé dans les mines (parce que les employés ont besoin d'être gardés en sécurité, n'est-ce pas?) leur peau était assez sombre. L'un portait ses cheveux dans un pain, tandis que l'autre avait les siennes dans les dreadlocks. En dehors de cela, ils étaient indistinguables les uns des autres.

Name: Jackson Trent Nickname/Alias: Jack, sex on a stick (imo). Race: Human Age: 25 Ethnicity: Canadian, though no one would know what that means. Gender: Male Appearance: . |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about. Clothing: Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly. Personality: Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills. Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives. Likes: The Power Rangers White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea. The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost. Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before. Protecting people The greater good Dislikes: Galatec His job Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control His parents being under Galatec’s influence Fears: Slipping back under Galatec’s control Not being able to find the Power Rangers Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents Galatec defeating the Power Rangers Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them Dying on the job Quirks: He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right? History: Freedom. That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly. Until the Power Rangers. At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”. That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth... Talents: Extremely skilled with a tomahawk Animalistic instincts & reflexes Can see multiple approaches to a problem Agile on his feet A linear understanding of science Apparently quite the singer Hindrances: His perpetual mood swings He always sees the good in people Can sometimes be quick to judge Not exactly the one to sugar coat things His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people Powers: None. Zero. Nil. Equipment: An old mining torch A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day 10 shirts 4 pairs of jeans A pair of combat boots A pair of old sneakers An old scarf A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff) 7 bottles of water A sleeping bag 9 MRE kits Quotes: “Cross your fingers.” Aspiration: To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into.

L'ordre était clair et concis. Samara a pris l'initiative d'activer le RDS en remplaçant le siège que le mentor avait précédemment pris, mettant sa plaquette de côté tout en le faisant. Avec plusieurs coups de touche aigus, les teintes qui entouraient les quatre individus sur l'écran se sont intensifiées. Une fenêtre est apparue demandant la confirmation finale de l'activation du système. Elle n'a pas hésité. Nous y voilà, en confirmant les cibles et en appuyant sur la clé finale, Samara a tourné sa chaise vers le projecteur et a attendu que les quatre cinquièmes de l'équipe arrivent.

Samara Morgan Name - Samara Morgan Nickname/Alias - N/A Race - Human Age - 23 Ethnicity - African-American Gender - Female Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis. Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend. In The Mind Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends. She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest. However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood. Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right. Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously. Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames. Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her. Where They’ve Been History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background. One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed. It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold. It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking. The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way. Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising. Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture. Powers - N/A Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone. Bonus Round Quotes - No. Theme Song - Never. Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary.

Tommy entendit le mot « venir » de la guirlande dehors, et sortit de la petite crevasse. Alors qu'il ouvrit la bouche pour dire aux githkines plus de détails sur la situation, ils n'étaient pas les plus brillants après tout, il remarqua qu'Oliver s'était apparemment mis dans une bagarre avec une githkine d'élite. Il a vite fermé sa bouche. Peut-être qu'elle avait déjà commencé? Il avait entendu des rumeurs... peu importe ce qui pourrait arriver ou non aujourd'hui, il ne pouvait pas laisser Oliver mourir dans les prises de ce gant. Tommy s'est vite échappé de la crevasse, essayant de faire aussi peu de bruit qu'il le pouvait. Il pourrait sauver son ami si l'autre gant ne le retenait pas. À la minute où il avait les deux pieds sur un sol solide, il a commencé à courir aussi vite qu'il le pouvait (ce qui, malheureusement, ne dit pas grand-chose) vers la ceinture qui tenait son ami à l'écart. Tommy n'avait clairement pas le poids pour s'attaquer à ce gant au sol, même avec un départ en tête. Cependant, s'il essayait d'attraper ses jambes, il pourrait être en mesure de faire perdre l'équilibre de la guirlande.

Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist) Nickname/Alias: Mable Race: Valiant Age: 20 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: Female Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples. Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank. Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts. In The Mind Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them. Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause. Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets. Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone. Fears: Failure, gloomy moods. Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning. Where They’ve Been History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet. She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec. Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside. Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability. Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire. Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out. Equipment: Morpher?? Bonus Round Quotes: "Peace and Love!" Theme Song: N/A Aspiration: Love and Peace! It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: ?? Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points. Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact. Powers: ?? Zords: Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd. This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!" She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough. Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming. As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were. The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away. "Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim. After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message. 'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.' As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home.

Adelram Drax Adelram a remarqué l'appareil électrique militaire sur le bras du contremaître. La technologie obsolète, mais la vérification des antécédents de Foreman Jo'ones a confirmé l'affirmation de Mme Ruthalia selon laquelle le nouvel adversaire d'Adelram était ex-militaire. Lorsque l'humanoïde réptilien échappa à sa prise, Drax ne s'attendait pas à ce qu'il commence à frapper son bas du corps. Dans la plupart des cas, une personne dans la position du contremaître tenterait de fuir ou de s'échapper. Malheureusement, cette explosion criminelle a réduit la probabilité que les ordres directs de Mme Ruthalia soient exécutés. Adelram a tranquillement calculé que peut-être juste mortellement blesser le Foreman satisferait le directeur régional. Quoi qu'il en soit, la mort du vétéran Foreman par Adelram, et par extension, celle de Mme Ruthalia, était inévitable. "Votre transgression a été remarquée, Foreman Jo'ones." Tout en informant le suspect criminel de la conscience d'Adelram que le Foreman a, en fait, commis un crime, Drax a coiffé son poing droit précédemment zapper et l'a incliné vers le bas. Il jutait rapidement sa masse massive d'une main en avant, s'y penchant. Une blessure paralysante à un homme commun, mais il y avait une forte probabilité qu'il puisse juste envoyer le Foreman voler en arrière avec une commotion si son coup de poing rapide connecté. Le coup de poing a été lancé tout comme Adelram a fini par dire, "-noté-". L'androïde a également pris note du conseil de Foreman Jo'ones, que la position sur laquelle il se tenait est l'endroit préféré de démembrement.

Name: GD-002-17 Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath Race: Android/Robot Age: 7 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: "Male" Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form. Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints. His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder. In The Mind Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view. When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords. Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like. Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike. Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up. Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission. Where They’ve Been History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax. When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin. He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him. Talents: Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down. Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons. He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander. He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum. He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent. Hindrances: He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck. If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited. Powers: Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry. Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain. Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position. Equipment: Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers. One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies. Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time. And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering. He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air. Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out. Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision. Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets. Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload. Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired. Bonus Round Quotes: "..." "The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%." "..." Theme Song: i dunno Aspiration: File not found. "Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure. "The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun. "Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight. "This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply." The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor. The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail. Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking. Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up. Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind. When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere. If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed. He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level.

Michael Sonnen Un rugissement tonnerre souffle la roche chauffée et la poussière, dispersant la matière fine contre lui et le long magouille sombre du tunnel. Michael sentait des petits bouts transpercer sa peau. Le sentiment était comme des picotons, des picotons qu'il pouvait prendre, cette douleur était petite par rapport à ce qu'il avait vécu au fil des ans. Il se leva prudemment, cherchant tout soupçon de faiblesse dans les murs des mines; les explosions pouvaient ébranler la structure même de n'importe quelle mine et cela lui apportait une teinte de peur. Mourir dans les mines sans faire quoi que ce soit venger la mort de Courtney serait une honte. Il ne pouvait pas s'imaginer se pardonner s'il l'avait fait. Michael jeta cette pensée de côté alors qu'il s'approchait de l'entrée carbonisée, smoldering des portes autrefois scellées. À l'intérieur, il a vu un cargo d'ascenseur spacieux. Il était... vieux, jusqu'à quel point il n'était pas sûr; son éducation à la technologie historique était infructueuse et ne touchait pas du tout. Ses lèvres étaient serrées pendant qu'il se tirait à travers le trou soufflé. C'est ce qu'ils cachaient? Il a demandé incrédule. Pourquoi cacher ça? Il s'est arrêté un moment avant d'entrer dans l'ascenseur et de vérifier avec insouciance si cela fonctionnait. Ses mains puissantes se déplaçaient vers un bouton aléatoire, son pouce l'appuyait sans prudence. Peu de temps après, il s'est fait chier pour son esprit d'une seule piste. "Peut-être qu'ils ne cachent pas ça? Galatec pourrait me pousser... Est-ce qu'ils savent qu'ils ne peuvent pas me laver le cerveau?" Son poing droit s'est serré sur son côté tandis que l'autre a mis la cicatrice sur son nez. Je vais me battre à mort.

Name: Michael Sonnen. Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother). Race: Human. Age: 20. Ethnicity: African American. Gender: Male. Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye. Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In The Mind Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious. Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions. Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal. Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different. Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs. Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where They’ve Been History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think, This isn't right... Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought. Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off. His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered. "Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-" It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself. Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often. Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it? Powers: None. Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bonus Round Quotes: "We fight for today!" Theme Song: Throne Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Red Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung. Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently. Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets. Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes. Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty. "Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you." She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that. By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic. His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on. Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening. Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns. "Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself.

Lieu: mine Dumas Interacting With: The Twins Jackson a sauté de la perceuse, frottant ses mains poussiéreuses et remplies de saleté sur sa chemise une fois blanche, créant deux taches de saleté toute neuves en forme de main sur la pauvre chose. Aujourd'hui a été un grand jour pour lui. Il a dû utiliser l'exercice, et maintenant il a eu une pause de trois minutes! Il a eu de la chance d'avoir des gens aussi formidables et formidables comme Galatec qui s'occupaient de lui. En parlant de lui, il regarda de nouveau vers le Ghitkin qu'on lui avait fourni pour le tenir compagnie, avant d'aller vers les jumeaux qu'il avait repérés près de lui. M. Ghitkin n'a pas vraiment regardé dans l'ambiance pour un peu de conversation - ce que Jackson a compris; nous avons tous nos jours grincheux - donc il a décidé d'approcher les dames, prendre une bouteille d'eau craquée de saleté et prendre une grosse perruque. Gulp! Galatec était si gentil de donner de l'eau à tout le monde après s'être amusé à travailler. Coucou! Comment allez-vous? Je sais que je suis géniale! » Il a dit, en exhibant un sourire amical aux jumeaux alors qu'il tirait un sandwich de sa poche, en épluchant le film de collage et en prenant une bouchée. Mmm, le jambon, le fromage et le concombre étaient ses préférés! Alors qu'il attendait les réponses des filles, il a pris une note mentale pour acheter d'autres ingrédients dits quand il est rentré à la maison. Bien que, avec la quantité de plaisir qu'il a eu aujourd'hui, il n'a jamais voulu partir!

Name: Jackson Trent Nickname/Alias: Jack, sex on a stick (imo). Race: Human Age: 25 Ethnicity: Canadian, though no one would know what that means. Gender: Male Appearance: . |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about. Clothing: Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly. Personality: Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills. Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives. Likes: The Power Rangers White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea. The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost. Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before. Protecting people The greater good Dislikes: Galatec His job Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control His parents being under Galatec’s influence Fears: Slipping back under Galatec’s control Not being able to find the Power Rangers Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents Galatec defeating the Power Rangers Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them Dying on the job Quirks: He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right? History: Freedom. That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly. Until the Power Rangers. At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”. That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth... Talents: Extremely skilled with a tomahawk Animalistic instincts & reflexes Can see multiple approaches to a problem Agile on his feet A linear understanding of science Apparently quite the singer Hindrances: His perpetual mood swings He always sees the good in people Can sometimes be quick to judge Not exactly the one to sugar coat things His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people Powers: None. Zero. Nil. Equipment: An old mining torch A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day 10 shirts 4 pairs of jeans A pair of combat boots A pair of old sneakers An old scarf A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff) 7 bottles of water A sleeping bag 9 MRE kits Quotes: “Cross your fingers.” Aspiration: To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into.

C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer, je m'appelle Clementine Mayweather, et je fais juste un audit de l'établissement, Clementine s'est présentée. -- Oh, et voici Jonah Fallen, ajouta-t-elle. Même s'il n'était pas courant d'introduire du personnel de sécurité, Clementine voulait qu'il se sente inclus malgré la gêne. "Je veux juste vérifier les dépenses qui ont eu lieu ici. Une chose qui m'a frappé, c'est que le "drilleur" a disparu? Bien qu'il soit bon que le véhicule ait été récupéré, la production a été nettement plus faible en son absence. Y a-t-il une explication pour l'endroit où ça s'est passé pendant cette période? Trouver une raison devrait aider à prévenir l'avenir, ah... les disparitions," Clementine sourit à Kylo dans une tentative de paraître non menaçante, car la plupart des gens deviennent facilement défensifs lors de l'audit.

Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title? Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker Race: Humany Human of Humaness Age: 21 Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different. Gender: Male Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases. Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth. In The Mind Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need. Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things. Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others. Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black. Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can. Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts. Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own. Where They’ve Been History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens. Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free. After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously. It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him. Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things. Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger. Powers: N to the A biatch. Equipment: Blue Photon Morpher Red-Light-Emitting Necklace Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools. Ripped up miner clothes. Bonus Round Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!" Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Blue Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying. Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through. Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means. Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it.

Oliver Oliver a écrasé le rocher sur une cicatrice aussi fort qu'il le pouvait. En parlant de l'autre gamin, "Sortez d'ici." Quand il a regardé en arrière la cicatrice-face avait déjà récupéré. Il a attrapé la gorge d'Ollie et l'a élevé en l'étrangleant. *Dang. Je l'ai fait maintenant. Pas besoin de sortir de celui-ci.* Sachant que peu importe ce qu'il a fait, il allait probablement être tué, il a juste regardé avec défiance face à cicatrice comme s'il disait, "Vous n'avez pas vraiment gagné." Tout à coup, Tommy s'est montré labouré dans les jambes de la cicatrice. Sur l'instinct Ollie leva son genou dans le menton du Githkin le tenant. Je sais qu'Ollie s'inquiétait, et ça s'est clairement montré sur son visage. Il se foutait de sa mort, mais il ne voulait pas que quelqu'un meure pour lui. Il a dû trouver comment sortir Tommy de là.

Name: Oliver Johnson Nickname/Alias: Ollie Race: Human Age: 16 Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish. Gender: Male Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age. Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes. In The Mind Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself. He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him. Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air. Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it. Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys. Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone. Quirks: Is constantly zoning out. Where They’ve Been History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth. During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret. Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since. Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face. Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything. Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden. Bonus Round Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic." Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs. Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Green Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator. Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster. Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight. Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light. Zords: None at the moment.

Ruthalia a décidé que ce serait une bonne idée de garder un œil vigilant sur les deux humains avec le privilège de fidélité. Jusqu'à présent, ils ne semblaient pas faire quelque chose d'incompréhensible. Les scanners de la caméra affichent des sous-titres de leurs mots pour le plaisir de visionner le gestionnaire régional. Apparemment, Clemetine Mayweather avait été chargée d'effectuer une vérification des dépenses dans divers ministères et divisions et avait décidé de se rendre d'abord à la gare routière. Elle a parlé avec l'ingénieur en chef Kylo, une Mercurienne, de la façon dont l'un des véhicules avait disparu, mais a été retrouvé dans sa station environ une semaine plus tard. Un véhicule avait disparu pendant toute une semaine?! Comment cela n'a-t-il pas été signalé comme une question prioritaire?Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? Kylo semblait être personnel et amical avec les deux. Elle allait avec l'interrogatoire, en leur donnant sa pleine participation. Puis l'ingénieur en chef Kylo est resté seul, à l'air terriblement confus. Dans un éclair lumineux de lumière, les deux avaient disparu de la vue. Kylo s'est éraflée la tête, perplexe, puis a sorti une radio pour rapporter l'étrange phénomène à son superviseur. L'ancien préfet Jo'ones n'a pas résisté à son assaut furieux contre l'armure de combat de Drax. S'il avait été confronté à la plupart des autres ennemis, sa grande force et sa grande forme lui auraient déjà valu sa vie et sa liberté. Contre le haut de Galatec de la ligne androïde général, il a eu de la chance qu'il ne lui ait pas déjà cassé les bras. Alors que Drax se déplaçait pour frapper l'homme de lézard, Jo'ones a finalement cessé son attaque et a soulevé les deux bras pour bloquer, ayant déjà perdu tout temps pour éviter. C'était un geste qu'il ne voulait pas vivre pour regretter. Le poing du robot frappa ses bras croisés à pleine force, et Jo'ones vola en arrière dans une averse d'étincelles. Son dos s'est heurté à une rampe, pliant le rail d'un bon pied. Jo'ones se leva, les deux bras brisés et suspendus doucement à ses côtés, mais le feu à ses yeux n'était pas mort. D'après les détecteurs de Drax, il aurait dû souffrir énormément, mais l'ancien soldat semblait avoir peu de problèmes à y faire face. Au lieu de se tenir debout, ou de courir, il a plutôt levé sa jambe pointée directement sur la plaque thoracique de Drax. Comme il l'a fait, un petit souffleur d'énergie a glissé d'une sorte de bras mécanique, et Jo'ones l'a attrapé avec son pied. C'est vrai, les fichiers de données dans le noyau mémoire de Drax ont confirmé que l'espèce de Jo'ones avait des orteils parfaitement articulés. Jo'ones a tiré le laser avec son pied, émettant un faisceau de lumière rouge qui a frappé le carré du robot dans la poitrine. Pour la première fois depuis le début du combat, Jo'ones avait l'air inquiet. Il a à peine griffé la peinture. La ceinture d'élite avec le visage écarté riait en fait, riait d'Oliver alors qu'elle le retenait par le cou. Le githkin désigné comme "superviseur" d'Oliver se tenait de l'autre côté d'Oliver. Sans émotion, il leva un seul poing et frappa Oliver dans le dos. La douleur était énorme, mais heureusement rien ne s'est cassé. À ce moment-là, Tommy a pris une plongée en courant à la ceinture d'élite, se claquant dans ses jambes. Les yeux de la créature s'ouvrirent alors qu'elle fut prise par surprise et perdit son équilibre. À ce moment-là, il a libéré Oliver, puis a trébuché sur le sol. Quand il a regardé vers le haut, ses yeux ont établi le contact avec celui de Tommy. Il n'avait pas l'air heureux. La deuxième githkine a aidé son supérieur, puis ils ont tous les deux affronté les travailleurs belligérants. C'est pas vrai. Eh bien, aujourd'hui aurait pu aller tellement mieux. Pourtant, nous devons tous mourir un jour, n'est-ce pas? La girouette s'est chargée vers l'avant, chacune avec un poing levé. Ils se sont évanouis, chacun à un pouce de la connexion avec un visage humain. Et puis... Rien. Tommy et Oliver ont vu un éclat lumineux de lumière, aveuglant et désorientant. Quand les spots sont partis, les deux étaient... en fait, où étaient-ils? Le chef Kylo a hurlé pendant que Clementine parlait, attendant son tour d'interjecter. "Oui, c'est très compréhensible que vous veniez ici. Pour être honnête, je me prépare à cet audit depuis que le foreur a disparu. Malheureusement, je n'ai aucune idée où il était ou qui l'a pris pendant cette semaine. » Le Mercurien a conduit les deux humains vers un grand véhicule avec une perceuse sur le nez. Le toit de la cabine était apparemment convertible. Cette fine machine était manifestement très chère, et sa disparition avait coûté à Red Rock pas moins de 450 000 Galatokens. "Voici le foreur fantôme en question. Numéro de série 7x-y25-349. J'ai demandé aux légistes de l'examiner, mais personne n'a encore répondu à ma demande. Quoi qu'il en soit, Kylo s'est tourné vers Clementine, tenant un petit disque de données. « Cela tient tous nos coûts d'exploitation, notre inventaire et tout ce dont vous pourriez avoir besoin pour votre vérification. Y a-t-il autre chose que je puisse faire pour vous?" Avant que Clémentine ou Jonas ne puissent répondre, ils se trouvèrent soudain aveuglés par une lumière brillante. Après un bref moment de désorientation, leur vision est revenue, mais ils n'étaient plus dans la station du véhicule. Ils étaient sous terre, entourés de plusieurs personnes qu'ils n'avaient jamais vues... Avec le rugissement tonnerre d'un ancien leviathan se réveillant de son sommeil, l'ascenseur de fret est venu à la vie. Lentement, il a commencé sa descente. Le son était fort et résonnait dans toutes les mines. Si quelqu'un était dans cette zone de tunnel sans vie, il l'entendrait sûrement. Dommage que Michael ait été seul. Ou peut-être que c'était la bénédiction? Quoi qu'il en soit, lentement l'ascenseur l'a amené et seulement lui vers le bas. Le trajet avait pris près de trois minutes, mais finalement il s'est arrêté. La lumière a cessé de clignoter, au lieu de cela elle a brûlé brillamment comme si l'ampoule ou la puissance avaient été remplacées. Les portes s'ouvraient et de l'autre côté était sans doute le plus grand surprise que Michael recevrait ce jour-là. Les gens. Des gens armés. Ils étaient emballés dans le tunnel aussi étroitement qu'ils pouvaient l'être. Les êtres humains, comme lui-même, portent une armure de fortune faite de tout matériel dont ils pourraient se procurer. Ils portaient des armes, des lasers, des battes de baseball, des exercices miniers, toutes sortes de choses qui pourraient vous faire mourir. Puis on s'est approché de Michael, une jeune femme en cuir et portant un blaster laser. Michael Sonnen, vous l'avez fait! Huzzah! J'espère que notre contact a été correct et que vous pouvez vous joindre à nous. Dites-moi, que pensez-vous de Galatec?" Le mentor a redressé sa cravate alors que Samara a commencé à lancer le système de déplacement de la réfraction. L'ordinateur a pris vie alors qu'il commençait à tirer plus de puissance qu'ils n'avaient jamais utilisé auparavant. Après quelques secondes de calculs intenses, l'ordinateur... Arrêter? Drat, ça a gelé! Samara savait juste qu'ils auraient dû balayer la dernière puce de traitement! Et c'est là que les quatre points de l'écran ont disparu, tandis que le projecteur de lumière au centre du quartier général a grimpé à la vie. Peut-être que c'était assez bien après tout. Désorienté, mais régénérant, quatre jeunes adultes sont apparus au centre d'une grande chambre de caverne. C'était quelques milliers de pieds carrés, avec une piste de mine menant à plusieurs voies, chacune fermée par une grande porte en métal. Plusieurs bancs de travail et stations informatiques avaient été installés autour de la caverne, tandis qu'ils se tenaient chacun sur une plate-forme centrale en dessous d'une sorte de projecteur de lumière. Mais ce n'était pas la seule source de lumière. Des chaînes de lumières circulaient autour du plafond, alimentées par un générateur de portail. Enfin, deux étrangers étaient parmi eux. Une jeune femme à la peau sombre assise à une station informatique, et ce qui semblait être un homme d'âge moyen debout devant eux, regardant composé. Avant qu'ils ne puissent trop s'interroger sur ce qui s'était passé, l'homme-extraterrestre en face d'eux a commencé à parler. "Tommy Reese. Oliver Johnson. Clementine Mayweather. Jonah Fallen. Bienvenue. Je m'excuse pour l'inconfort soudain, mais c'était nécessaire compte tenu de nos circonstances. Permettez-moi de me présenter. Je m'appelle Joniminum Lorel'ammit Jorgenschmidtl, mais vous pouvez m'appeler John Jorgen. Je suis un ancien employé de Galatec, un scientifique de haut rang dans les départements de Robotique, Physique et Ingénierie. Je suis également le plus grand expert de Galatec sur le Morphing Grid, ce qui m'amène à vous. J'ai étudié votre culture, votre histoire. De nombreuses races à travers l'univers ont pu accéder à la grille de Morphing, mais l'humanité semble avoir le plus d'expérience avec elle. Tout au long du temps, les êtres humains ont fait face à une menace périlleuse sur le désastre, et ils sortent toujours en haut, grâce à votre connexion spéciale avec la grille de morphage. Votre monde est à nouveau confronté à de telles menaces, sous la forme de mes anciens employeurs. J'ai donc pris sur moi-même pour vous donner la chance de vous battre que vous méritez. Chacun d'entre vous a été étudié et choisi à la main pour une raison ou une autre pour rejoindre une équipe spéciale pour défendre son peuple. Mon associé et moi," l'homme a fait un geste à la femme aux ordinateurs, son nom reste un mystère, "vous offre un choix. Tu peux décider de retourner à ta vie comme ils l'étaient avant de nous rencontrer. Vous pouvez travailler et travailler pour un salaire minimum, pas d'appréciation, pour le bénéfice de ceux qui profitent de votre genre... Ou vous pouvez choisir de vous lever et de lutter pour ce qui est juste. Vous pouvez honorer l'histoire fière de votre peuple et devenir... des Power Rangers." Le manager de Mable soupirait d'irritation contre les antiques de son client. Techniquement, Galatec était son client, mais en fin de compte elle était celle avec qui il avait le plus de contact. "S'il vous plaît Mable, mon nom est Gajoon, pas 'Octo-manager.' Et tu sais que je ne te déteste pas. Je sais que la situation n'est pas idéale, mais personne n'a jamais dit qu'être une étoile était facile. » C'était la vérité. Gajoon était l'un des meilleurs. Bien sûr, il était techniquement un employé de Galatec, mais encore une fois c'était Mable. Il est peut-être fatigué par son énergie et a été las de toute leur situation, mais dans son cœur squishy, céphalopodes, il était un bon gars. Quand Mable jeta les draps lyriques sur le sol de la limousine, il laissa sortir un soupir doux et commença à les ramasser lui-même. Pendant tout ce temps, son téléphone a explosé avec des messages, des textos, des alertes, des notifications et d'autres documents liés aux affaires. Alors qu'il était sur le sol, il a manqué les antiques du toit ouvrant de Mable, mais il a été prompt à réagir une fois qu'il a pris son pied en arrière. "Madame l'amour! S'il vous plaît, contrôlez-vous! Voulez-vous inciter quelque chose ici? » Mable savait qu'il était juste étouffant et prudent. Une fois que la limousine s'était garée, Gajoon sortit et commença à marcher dans la direction de la loge, gesticulant pour Mable de suivre. "Comme vous l'avez déjà dit, celui-ci va être un défi, mais je sais que vous êtes prêt à le faire. Le groupe d'entraînement est déjà installé dans les coulisses, donc vous pouvez obtenir le accrochage de cette nouvelle pièce. Rappelez-vous, c'est la grande finale de la performance de ce soir, donc il doit être absolument parfait. Je n'ai pas besoin de vous rappeler à quel point ce soir est important, puisque Galatec cherche à renouveler notre contrat. Nous ne voulons pas que vous soyez expulsé." Les jumeaux arrêtèrent leur conversation à l'approche de Jackson, quelque chose sur les haricots lima, et se tournèrent vers le jeune homme. Le premier à parler était le jumeau avec les dreadlocks. "Oh, nous allons bien. Juste profiter de notre pause avant de retourner au travail." "Je suis heureux que nous ayons pu obtenir un si bon travail, et rester ensemble comme une famille," pipe dans la jumelle avec ses cheveux dans un chignon. "Je suis Shawnee et voici ma sœur Sarah. Qui êtes-vous?"

Name: Jackson Trent Nickname/Alias: Jack, sex on a stick (imo). Race: Human Age: 25 Ethnicity: Canadian, though no one would know what that means. Gender: Male Appearance: . |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about. Clothing: Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly. Personality: Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills. Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives. Likes: The Power Rangers White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea. The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost. Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before. Protecting people The greater good Dislikes: Galatec His job Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control His parents being under Galatec’s influence Fears: Slipping back under Galatec’s control Not being able to find the Power Rangers Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents Galatec defeating the Power Rangers Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them Dying on the job Quirks: He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right? History: Freedom. That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly. Until the Power Rangers. At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”. That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth... Talents: Extremely skilled with a tomahawk Animalistic instincts & reflexes Can see multiple approaches to a problem Agile on his feet A linear understanding of science Apparently quite the singer Hindrances: His perpetual mood swings He always sees the good in people Can sometimes be quick to judge Not exactly the one to sugar coat things His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people Powers: None. Zero. Nil. Equipment: An old mining torch A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day 10 shirts 4 pairs of jeans A pair of combat boots A pair of old sneakers An old scarf A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff) 7 bottles of water A sleeping bag 9 MRE kits Quotes: “Cross your fingers.” Aspiration: To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into.

Michael Sonnen La trépidation lui a arraché l'intérieur. Les trois minutes de l'ascenseur étaient plus longues... bien plus longues. Il pouvait sentir son cœur battre dans sa poitrine, entendait le métal rauque ancien broyer à l'extérieur de la cage chauffée, il ne voyait rien en particulier pendant qu'il se lisait lui-même. Ce n'était pas le savoir qui tenait son pouce en place sur sa cicatrice. Quand les portes se sont enfin ouvertes, les yeux de Michael ont été grands avec un choc. Une armée? il pensait, trop peu sûr pour aller de l'avant ou en arrière. Pendant une longue, littérale, le second Michael a tenté de comprendre. Le groupe... les rebelles étaient peut-être emballés dans le couloir, se préparaient-ils à un raid? Vraiment, ça n'avait pas d'importance, tout ce qui comptait, c'était sa réponse à sa question. Il pouvait le voir dans ses yeux ; il était déjà trop profond. Sa réponse serait préjudiciable à quelque chose. "Je pense que tu vas finir mort en allant contre eux," Michael a dit tenduement. "Les démons ne sont pas normaux."

Name: Michael Sonnen. Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother). Race: Human. Age: 20. Ethnicity: African American. Gender: Male. Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye. Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In The Mind Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious. Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions. Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal. Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different. Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs. Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where They’ve Been History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think, This isn't right... Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought. Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off. His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered. "Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-" It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself. Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often. Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it? Powers: None. Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bonus Round Quotes: "We fight for today!" Theme Song: Throne Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Red Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung. Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently. Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets. Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes. Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty. "Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you." She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that. By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic. His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on. Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening. Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns. "Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself.

Adelram Drax Adelram n'a rien dit alors que la poutre frappait son armure. À en juger par l'expression du Foreman, Drax a conclu que l'arme était à pleine puissance, et l'introduction du blindage serait inutile pour gagner cet engagement. Une chose que Drax n'a pas compris, c'est que le Foreman n'a pas voulu mourir de ses mains. Adelram a calculé ce que les meilleurs mouvements du Foreman seraient, et l'évasion semblait être la voie d'action la plus raisonnable. Peut-être, se demandait-il, si le Foreman était en mission suicide pour distraire Adelram pour des raisons inconnues. Il s'est affronté à cette pensée, car le Foreman n'a pas initié ce combat par des moyens physiques, mais plutôt que Drax était l'agresseur dans cette situation. Si le contremaître n'avait pas reçu l'ordre d'assassinat de Mme Ruthalia, la situation de combat actuelle ne se produirait pas. En même temps, il s'approcha de l'arme à feu comiquement grande à ses côtés. En s'emparant de la poignée, il a arraché l'arme de son étui et l'a nivelé vers l'homme au lézard. Deux impulsions éblouissantes d'énergie jaune ont explosé à partir du canon en succession rapide, un recul puissant annulé par la force d'Adelram et les gyroscopes intérieurs. Le premier tir visait à entrer en collision avec le noyau du Foreman, un coup direct que l'on espère. Le second tir s'est légèrement incliné vers le bas, comme pour exploser aux pieds de Jo'ones pour le propulser vers le haut.

Name: GD-002-17 Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath Race: Android/Robot Age: 7 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: "Male" Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form. Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints. His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder. In The Mind Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view. When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords. Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like. Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike. Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up. Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission. Where They’ve Been History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax. When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin. He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him. Talents: Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down. Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons. He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander. He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum. He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent. Hindrances: He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck. If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited. Powers: Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry. Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain. Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position. Equipment: Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers. One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies. Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time. And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering. He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air. Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out. Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision. Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets. Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload. Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired. Bonus Round Quotes: "..." "The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%." "..." Theme Song: i dunno Aspiration: File not found. "Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure. "The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun. "Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight. "This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply." The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor. The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail. Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking. Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up. Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind. When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere. If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed. He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level.

Après que Tommy ait tenté de sauver la vie de son ami, il s'attendait à mourir. Après tout, il était sur le terrain en regardant dans le visage d'un githkin d'élite très en colère, il était physiquement fragile et n'avait jamais combattu rien de plus menaçant qu'un ravageur domestique, et pour couronner tout cela, Oliver et lui étaient plus nombreux. La collision avec le sol avait ouvert de nouvelles blessures dans ses genoux, qui répandaient du sang frais sur le sol du tunnel. Pire encore, il ne pouvait pas mobiliser l'énergie pour se lever à ce point, car le sprint et la plongée avaient pris toute l'énergie qu'il pouvait rassembler pour le moment. Tommy a donné un dernier petit sourire à Oliver, le genre de sourire qui voulait dire qu'il savait ce qui allait arriver, et il était d'accord avec ça. Mais tout allait bien! Tout ce qui vit meurt finalement, n'est-ce pas? D'ailleurs, abandonner la bobine mortelle pour tout ce qui est attendu au-delà ferait en sorte qu'il n'ait plus jamais faim... Ferme les yeux, Tommy attend la fin. Et d'une manière ou d'une autre, alors que Tommy attendait la douleur qui finirait par être suivie de la mort, il ne sentait rien... il y avait un éclair de lumière qu'il pouvait voir même à travers ses yeux fermés, et... rien. C'était la mort? Cela ressemblait beaucoup à la vie, et il avait encore faim, ce qui était probablement la plus grande déception à sortir de toute l'épreuve. Mais comme il entendait la voix de (ERROR: FILE NOT FOUND), il savait que pour le moment il avait évité la mort. En regardant autour de la pièce, il pouvait voir qu'il y avait quatre autres personnes dans à peu près la même situation qu'il était, et heureusement Oliver était l'un d'entre eux! Si Tommy avait eu le temps de s'inquiéter au cours des derniers instants de sa vie, cela aurait certainement été un poids hors de son esprit. Et avec toutes ces observations, il n'était même pas arrivé à la pièce! Il y avait beaucoup de machines avancées, qui, étant donné le temps et la formation appropriés, il pouvait probablement apprendre à fonctionner, et peut-être même construire. Oooooh, rien de plus excitant que d'apprendre de nouvelles choses! Sauf peut-être la perspective de sauver le monde, qu'il venait d'apprendre. Soudain, Tommy a sauté de sa position antérieure et a inspecté tout ce qui se trouvait dans la pièce. "On dirait que ça pourrait... transporter des particules?! Comme c'est excitant, c'est comme ça qu'on est arrivés ici!" Il s'est exclamé, regardant le déplacement. "Et ceux-ci sont... aucune idée en fait, mais ils sont codés en couleur et ont l'air plutôt soignés." Il a dit de regarder les morphères. Parlant à peu près à la vitesse d'un jet supersonique, Tommy a commencé à bombarder la pièce en général avec des questions."Comment tout cela fonctionne-t-il? Puis-je apprendre à le construire? Je suis Tommy, qui est là?" Il a continué, portant le plus gros sourire sur son visage. "Oh, désolé." Il a dit de se tourner vers (ERROR: FILE NOT FOUND). « Je n'ai jamais répondu à votre question... oui, cela semble plutôt bon en ce moment. En outre, quelqu'un a-t-il de la nourriture?"

Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title? Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker Race: Humany Human of Humaness Age: 21 Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different. Gender: Male Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases. Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth. In The Mind Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need. Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things. Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others. Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black. Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can. Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts. Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own. Where They’ve Been History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens. Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free. After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously. It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him. Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things. Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger. Powers: N to the A biatch. Equipment: Blue Photon Morpher Red-Light-Emitting Necklace Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools. Ripped up miner clothes. Bonus Round Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!" Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Blue Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying. Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through. Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means. Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it.

Le bourdonnement croissant de l'ordinateur ne distrait pas Samara, ni son silence soudain. Cet emplacement n'était pas alimenté par certaines des plus grandes technologies de la planète, mais il allait falloir qu'il en suffise. Ils n'avaient jamais convoqué quatre personnes à un moment auparavant, de sorte qu'il a fallu couper un peu le système lui-même. Son expression n'a pas changé au silence, au lieu de cela ses yeux se sont concentrés sur la plate-forme que ce groupe apparaîtrait. La foi dans leur système – et ses propres capacités – a été rapidement récompensée par la matérialisation des quatre cibles. Alors que le Mentor commençait à leur expliquer la situation dans laquelle ils se trouvaient, Samara regardait leurs réactions individuelles de loin. Tommy était beaucoup plus enthousiaste qu'elle ne s'y attendait. Il regardait de façon erratique pour examiner son environnement, intelligent de lui, mais elle ne pouvait pas dire s'il écoutait vraiment son collègue sur la raison pour laquelle il était ici. Il a commencé à aller sur une tangente et à parler de ce qu'il a remarqué. Ça lui a même fait mal de le penser, alors elle n'ose pas le dire : Tommy s'est en fait emparé plus vite qu'elle ne l'escomptait. Typiquement, elle a associé un encouragement excessif pour le manque d'intérêt pour la technologie, mais une contradiction vivante et respirante à cette théorie était juste en face d'elle. Le RDS a converti leur masse physique en lumière. Il n'avait pas tort, mais il était plus proche qu'elle ne croyait que tout le monde pouvait arriver dans une minute. Samara s'est retrouvée souriante. Peut-être qu'il serait plus gros qu'elle ne le pensait. Il s'est présenté à ses pairs et a accepté d'assumer cette nouvelle responsabilité, presque trop rapidement. Lorsqu'il se plaignit de la nourriture, Samara regarda au coin de son petit poste de travail. Juste à côté, il y avait une petite cache d'eau purifiée, complètement absente de l'embouteillage chimique de Galatec, et une collection de barres protéiques comme un snack facilement jetable. Se tenant debout et se déplaçant vers elle, elle s'est agenouillée et a sorti une bouteille d'eau du sac à duffle recouvert de poussière dans lequel ils étaient entreposés, ainsi que deux barres protéiques. Ce ne serait pas beaucoup, mais pour un gars aussi mince que lui, ce serait assez de nourriture et d'énergie pour le porter à travers les deux prochaines heures minimum. Elle s'est levée tout comme Clémentine avait commencé à avoir une panne. Il devait y avoir au moins un d'entre eux qui croyait que c'était une sorte de piège élaboré pour tester leur loyauté à Galatec, et comme prévu, c'était Clementine après tout. Alors qu'elle l'enveloppait, Samara parlait pour la première fois depuis leur arrivée. Pas tout à fait, Clem,,,, elle a commencé avant que ses yeux reposaient sur Tommy. La tête monte le bleu, Samara lui jeta d'abord la bouteille d'eau, suivie d'une des barres protéiques qu'elle portait dans la main opposée. La barre de protéine et l'eau—avant de penser qu'il a obtenu l'un de ce poison Galatec vous nourrit, il ne le fait pas. Qu'il ait choisi ou non de la croire serait à lui. Déplacement de la main libre vers sa hanche, Samara's attention est revenue à Clémentine. Vous êtes à moitié à droite; tout le monde debout à côté de vous est sur le point de devenir vos nouveaux coéquipiers contre Galatec, donc je suppose que vous pourriez considérer cela comme une introduction qui mènera à la construction d'équipes. Galatec n'est pas notre ami, et ils ne sont pas à toi non plus. Tout cela supposait que Clémentine ne refuserait pas cette offre. Comme Jean l'a dit, ils étaient libres de retourner à une vie d'esclavage volontaire, mais Samara voulait croire que Clémentine, comme tous, pouvait devenir une partie vitale de l'équipe et aider à libérer la Nouvelle Terre. Malgré son aspect enroulé — un éclat de sueur à travers ses avant-bras exposés, le cou et le visage, et une longueur de cheveux délimités attachés en queue de cheval — Samara se tenait toujours avec confiance. Je sais que c'est soudain. Si je suis honnête, j'aurais gardé quelques-uns d'entre vous en dehors de cela,, Samara a fait attention de ne pas laisser ses yeux s'attarder sur l'un d'eux pendant trop longtemps, craignant qu'ils soient offensés pour qu'elle puisse penser peu d'entre eux. Nous reconnaissons votre potentiel en tant qu'individus, mais les choses que vous pourriez accomplir ensemble dépassent de loin tout ce que vous pourriez espérer faire par vous-même. Dans un passé lointain, les Rangers de puissance pouvaient se réunir lorsqu'un monde, une colonie spatiale, ou même un secteur entier de l'espace en avaient le plus besoin. Maintenant nous espérons que vous quatre pouvez faire la même chose. Plongée dans sa poche arrière, Samara a enlevé une carte d'identité montrant une apparence plus propre et plus propre avec un sourire brillant, et son nom sur l'affichage clair. Je suis Samara, et je te demande de nous faire confiance. Vous êtes peut-être le dernier espoir de ce monde.

Samara Morgan Name - Samara Morgan Nickname/Alias - N/A Race - Human Age - 23 Ethnicity - African-American Gender - Female Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis. Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend. In The Mind Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends. She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest. However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood. Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right. Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously. Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames. Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her. Where They’ve Been History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background. One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed. It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold. It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking. The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way. Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising. Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture. Powers - N/A Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone. Bonus Round Quotes - No. Theme Song - Never. Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary.

avec: Terminal Workers, Drax, GithkinAussi peu d'intérêt pour les mines à ce jour, Ruth a décidé de regarder les deux seuls sl—ahem, employés se promenant autour de la mine. Elle n'aimait pas voir les humains en groupes sans supervision. Elle n'a pas donné un Gulliet volant s'ils avaient des privilèges de fidélité. Ça l'a toujours rendue malheureuse. Elle avait toute confiance dans les capacités des pouvoirs suggestifs et influents de Galatec, mais elle n'avait jamais pris grand amour ou confiance envers les humains. Ils étaient tellement... répugnants? Irréductible? Pas significatif? Oui, ça semblait le bon mot. Les humains étaient si insignifiants. Elle plie les bras sur la poitrine et bat les doigts sur un bras d'une main tandis que l'autre zoome, après que les deux humains errent, ses doigts cliquent sur des boutons pour changer la vue de la caméra quand le besoin se fait sentir. Elle lisait les sous-titres et sentait ses sourcils tricoter ensemble d'une manière très peu attrayante. Ruth s'attendait à être informée d'un véhicule disparu après une heure de disparition, encore moins une semaine entière de Groth. Elle pouvait sentir son tempérament s'élever et elle devait se demander où était leur superviseur. C'était très peu professionnel et elle a commencé à espérer que la superviseure avait aussi une peau particulièrement vibrante qu'elle pouvait s'approprier. C'était un bon travail qu'elle était une si merveilleuse multi-tâche ou elle n'aurait jamais vu ce qui s'est passé ensuite tout en pensant à la meilleure façon de s'habiller avec ses subordonnés détruits. Les humains étaient partis avec un éclair de lumière! Ruth se tourna pour regarder les ouvriers aux terminaux qui étaient restés pour travailler pendant leur pause déjeuner comme de bons petits insectes. S'ils ne regrettaient pas déjà cette décision, ils le seraient bientôt. Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé là-bas? C'était quoi cette lumière?! Où sont allés ces humains?! Ne me faites pas demander encore, magouilles!!!Elle laissa sortir une grande colère, et prit une respiration profonde. Elle était très proche de perdre sa maîtrise de soi. C'était ce à quoi elle s'attendait, mais elle ne s'y attendait pas si vite! Elle a regardé les travailleurs dans les terminaux, en examinant chaque mouvement de près avec insouciance dans la chance qu'ils avaient été responsables de l'éblouissement de la lumière dans les caméras. Elle a écouté leurs pensées alors qu'elle commençait à s'étirer l'esprit pour atteindre le Githkin à l'intérieur de l'établissement. C'est de la githkine. Voici votre directeur régional qui parle avec une commande pour vous tous qui pouvez m'entendre. Nous avons des employés humains disparus qui ont disparu dans un éclair de lumière. Si vous avez assisté à l'un de ces événements, venez au bureau des Foremans IMMEDIATEMENT. Le reste d'entre vous doit chercher les employés humains disparus. Détachez tous les employés humains qui sont d'un faible niveau de loyauté pour l'interroger par moi. S'assurer qu'ils ne sont pas en mesure de causer des problèmes. S'assurer qu'ils n'ont pas accès à quelque chose qui pourrait être utilisé comme arme. Assurez-vous que vous ne me faites pas attendre longtemps. Je m'attends à ce que les employés humains disparus soient retrouvés dans l'heure. MOUVEMENT. Elle allait avoir des rides. Quelqu'un allait payer. Ruth se prosterna en avant et gifla la place de l'ouvrier terminal la plus proche à travers le visage et les vira en osant la défier. Ce ne serait pas le cas. Elle ne pouvait même pas saisir Drax dans sa méthode habituelle! Avoir un subordonné androïde a vraiment eu ses inconvénients. Elle soupira alors qu'elle cliquait sur son communicateur pour le contacter. Général Drax, nous avons une situation. Retournez au bureau des Foremans maintenant. Si le lézard n'est pas encore mort, apportez-le aussi.Elle l'a flanqué et a donné un regard sévère sur les ouvriers dans son voisinage. Elle ne pouvait pas décider laquelle gifler ensuite.

Name: Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento Nickname/Alias: Ruth, ThinkTank, Lady Regional, RM Race: Iki'lek Age: I’ve lived more years than you could possibly ever count, maggot. Ethnicity: Iki'lek Hybrid Gender: Gender is such a primitive thing, but I do have a fondness for the feminine attire your world has. So let’s go with female, for now. Appearance: Ruth has two main appearances that you will see. Her public face is one that you want to give attention to yet makes you feel the need to divert your gaze at the same time as it draws you in. She opts for pale skin, sprinkled with freckles over its entirety. Her body stretches out to a modest 5’8” without the enhancements of high heels. (“These spectacular extensions for your lower appendages are absolutely marvellous!”) Her body type is that of womanly but well taken care of. When you can have any human body that you choose, why wouldn’t you give yourself what you feel is the most desirable body available? Her eyes are generally a dark hazel shade with a very prominent black halo around the iris. Her golden, copper brown hair reaches just below her shoulders and is generally styled in some manner befitting those in the Business profession on Earth. She is a fan of feminine make-up products and has become very proficient in applying it to her face and nails. She has a mass array of different colours that suit her preferred skin tone and hair colour. The second, and most natural, of Ruth’s appearances is not a common sight. Her race has skin that is silvery grey in colour that has a shimmering light to it. Her torso closely resembles that of a human in the sense that it holds the appendages and head together and contains almost all the vital organs. There are not just four appendages, there are fourteen. She has four arms, two at the same area as human arms and then a secondary pair sitting beneath those, protruding from the torso sides. The arms are very similar to human arms but are slightly longer, and there are six fingers on each hand with a thumb making it seven total. He does not have legs or feet, instead she has ten tendrils (see what I did there? I’m so funny…) much like an octopus or squid would have but these are full of muscle and allow her to move at high speeds and very erratically. Her head is slightly more difficult to describe. If you imagine a generic Martian to a human you think of a bulbous upper head, longer chin area and giant, black, and bulbous eyes that are almost as big as the entire head. Well the bulbous upper half is similar to what Iki’lek heads look like. It reaches further out to the back of the cranium though, but not by much. The lower face is longer and more drawn out than a human but not quite as much as a Martian face. Both halves of the race have no nose, instead they have slits much like a snake would. The Brawn half have a large, gaping maw that allows them to bite their targets and to yell out of. The Brain half have no mouth as they communicate telepathically. For Ruth, as she is a hybrid, does not look quite like the two single halves of the Iki’lek race. The Brawn half have smaller, more protruding eyes that face forward and have near tunnel vision while the Brain half have larger and less centralised eyes that rest closer to the sides of the skull to allow them to have a far wider range of vision. Ruth, however, has larger bulbous eyes that are slightly to the sides while still allowing her to see forward only if she so wishes thanks to her secondary set of eyelids which she can use as blinders. Her eyes aren’t black however, they are a deep, dark purple colour and her mouth is not quite as large as her Brawny brethren. She could bite onto you but probably wouldn’t be able to swallow your entire head like they could. The final noteworthy marking of her alien appearance is that of the markings across her entire body. Her head, face, neck and spinal cord (at least what you can see of it) have sky blue markings, like that of a calligraphy pen being dragged across a piece of paper to create weaving lines that crossover and connect like a fluid tapestry. The rest of her body that you could see (basically just her arms at this point) are covered in disjointed and jagged looking maroon coloured markings. They are erratic and seem to have no pattern to them at all. Both of these markings look almost as though they are not actually on the skin, almost like they are floating on the surface of water and are in constant motion. This race has no hair on their body and, their tendrils stretched out fully, stand at around 6’5” in length from head to… toe? Clothing: When in human form, Ruth can be found in a variety of business attire. Be it knee length pencil skirts with fitted blouses and a blazer, or perhaps she felt summery and is merely wearing an A-line skirt with a short sleeved gypsy top with a light jacket? She wears a large variety of clothing as she is so in love with it. She can also be seen in dresses, trousers, suits, shorts; basically everything at one point or another. She also will always be in high heels. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. She will be wearing them even when she’s kicking your ass. When she is not in her human form, Ruth’s alien body is covered in an extremely durable, high density but lightweight battle suit. It covers her entire torso and chest area but leaves her arms exposed from the shoulder areas down. Her tendrils are entirely covered and the material has strong grippers within the material that allow her to walk on any solid surface. Her hands, all four of them, wear different gloves with varying abilities which will be outlined later. The material is a light silvery grey shimmering material that closely resembles the natural skin tone so it almost looks as if she is wearing nothing and that her markings stop at her shoulders and neck area. Personality: Ruth is a very, very, very complex individual who is, technically, not actually an individual. Her core personality is strong, cool-headed, independent, manipulative, coercive, quick thinking, highly frickin' intelligent, tactical, charismatic and determined. She is one force of a woman and if you should find yourself in her path? Be prepared to be knocked the hell down and flattened beneath her immense force of presence. She is not a person to be trifled with and she has the capability to make your life, quite literally, a living hell should she deem it productive for her needs and wants. This is the Brainy variant that you will most commonly hear about when people talk about the Regional Manager. However, there is more than meets the eye with Ruth and it is because of this special trait of hers that she keeps her true face away from the public. She prefers to do her dealings with people from a distance but when left with no other alternative, she will get her hands dirty. This is where the rest of Ruth’s mind comes out to play. She suffers from having a divided mind and as such she has a second personality that brings out the brawn in our villainous Regional Manager. This side of her has the ability to have a very murderous streak and I do mean that literally. If you threaten her or really push her to the brink of her patience and piss her off? Say hello to the afterlife or whatever the hell it is you believe in because you can be fairly certain you will never see this world again. (Unless the glorious leader GM decides that you get to live. Spoil sport.) It is an emotionally unstable personality that can sometimes find it difficult to be reasonable. When in this state of mind, Ruth is very one track minded in the sense that she wishes to destroy you in every single way imaginable and possible. She will make you suffer ten times over and then have you begging for your death. Likes: Feminine Attire Books Stationary Crushing her enemies beneath her feet Getting her own way Slapping people across the face (“How you humans manage to stop yourselves from doing it more often is beyond me!”) Breaking bones Winning arguments Dislikes: Not getting her own way Crushing her enemies between her fingers Ruined books People stealing her stationary Going more than an hour without slapping someone across the face Getting blood on her designer clothing Power Rangers Cats Fears: Losing her status Failing to reach her aspiration Having her mind altered unwillingly Quirks: She clicks her tongue at her subordinates in moments of impatience, her fingers often drum on any hard surface when she is waiting, her eyes narrow when she is judging someone/something and she takes a long, deep breath when she is about to go all Iki’lek on your backside. History: Ruth’s race is one of the dozens of alien species that are part of the conglomerate known as Galatec. It was after Galatec began spreading themselves into dozens of planets that the Iki’lek’s truly realised they were split so purely down the middle in terms of what they can do. So the Brains began to work on finding a way to create the perfect Iki’lek. They used whatever resources became available to them as Galatec spread throughout the galaxy to create the perfect hybrid of the two halves of their race. Ruth was not the first iteration of this hybrid however. Oooh no no no, she was definitely not the first. She was the 42nd attempt and she was a complete accident, at least according to the scientists that created her. That was a long, long time ago so the specifics of it have all been compartmentalised in her mind and isn’t something she likes to dwell on too much. The experiments at that time of her life were hard and unforgiving but they allowed her to discover the powers and abilities that she has now. She was only reluctantly let go by the Iki’lek scientists when they were forced to explain what they were working on to the other alien species that also made up Galatec. It was when she was discovered that Galatec chose to put her through various training regimens to master control over her excessive strengths and courses for business and management due to her increased intelligence. During her rigorous physical training and exhausting mental training it was discovered that Ruth had a very split personality. She was two entirely different people depending on what she was focusing on at the time. This could become a problem for Ruth if she ever completely loses control over herself. It was a stressful time for her as she worked to become the “woman” that she is now. It was during high stress levels and the will to escape the constant work and training that Ruth discovered her ability to shapeshift. She wanted to be someone else and to get away without someone chasing after her. It took her some getting used to but she soon figured she could make herself look like anyone and anything so long as she focused on it in her mind firmly enough and essentially willed herself to be them. She took this opportunity to show Galatec she was useful for more than just her mind and muscles. They began using her to help settle new planets into their phase of “life”. As she could make herself look like one of the home planet species they figured it would be more appealing to hear from a “local” to how wonderful Galatec could be! Galatec gave her the regional management position on New Earth the moment that they set foot on it. She has been there since the beginning and has been working hard to make everything run as smoothly as possible for Galatec. Talents: Talking, feats if brute strength, crushing things, screwing with people’s minds via telepathy, hard worker, doesn’t give in easily, she doesn’t know when to quit in a fight. Hindrances: Dealing with animals, running when she’s not wearing heels in human form, unable to swim, cannot deal with seriously high pitched noises. Powers: Shapeshifting – As far as she knows, she is the only Iki’lek hybrid in existence so she is unsure if this shapeshifting ability is due to her hybrid nature or because of the accident that caused her creation. She can change her entire appearance to anything that she wishes on an organic level but she cannot impersonate an existing person. Her appearances are always an amalgamation of features she has seen on various people/images etc. Pain Inducement – Can induce pain, psychic torture through a mental link from about 10 feet away and the pain is much stronger when she is touching you. Force-Field Generation – Can create telekinetic barriers to block various power attacks and physical weapons. (I won’t abuse this and will always let the GM decide whether or not the barrier does/can block attacks etc.) Telepathy – Is able to read the minds of those around herself. She finds it easier to read the minds of those she has physical contact with but can read minds fairly well within the same room, however she is not limited to just this distance. She can read minds up to a 20 feet radius but the further the subject is to the edges of her zone, the less she can read clearly. Psychometry – The ability to read the past of a non-sentient object through touch. She can see the past 24 hours of an object. Can get a sense for who has touched/used/been around various items/rooms. Brute Strength – Can lift 20x her own weight Telekinesis – Control objects with one's mind. Cannot move anything larger than a car door. Equipment: Power Gloves – Four that look identical but each have their own powers. (They’re pretty damn basic weapons in the grander scheme of things. But considering the powers she has, I didn’t want to go OTT.) Heat Glove – Generates a high temperature on impact with a surface/person. Cold Glove – Generates a low temperature on impact with a surface/person. Vibro Glove – Causes vibrations on impact with a surface/person. Smoke Glove – Allows a smoke cloud to be generated when a small button is pressed. Otherwise it is just an armoured glove that hits a tiny bit harder than a plain old fist. Quotes: “Maggot.” “Take that filth out of my sight before I crush you.” “Watch. My. Lips.” Theme Song: This. :) Aspiration: Complete and utter domination of everything. The setting sun beamed into the executive office space through the opened glass balcony doors. Floor to roof windows matched the doors and made the entire wall seem as though it weren’t even there. A large leather office chair sat at a magnificent mahogany desk. The chair was facing out towards the balcony that was situated right behind it. A small, balding and fairly plump human male was standing in front of the desk, his hands wringing a very sweaty handkerchief out onto his highly polished black shoes. ”I-I… I can only apo-apolo-apologise L-l-lady Re-regional…” The man stumbled over his words as they tumbled from his mouth. The sound of drumming nails on leather came from the office chair that echoed around the now deathly silent room. The chair silently swivelled around to expose its occupant. The drumming abruptly stopped. Ruthalia Morphento, Regional Manager of Galatec on New Earth, sat upon her throne and exuded importance without making a motion or a sound. Her hair was bundled upon her head in a sleek bun that made her face look more severe than usual. Her cherry red lips were pursed with irritation and her brow may not have showed a single frown line but there was most definitely a scowl heading towards the poor man before her. “Apologies are for the pathetic. Are you one of the pathetic, Mr Grant? Don’t answer that.” Mr Grant gulped back his answer, his mouth hanging open until the moment that Ruth swiftly stood from her chair and began to walk around her desk. Her Jimmy Choo’s clicked on the marble flooring with each step until she stopped before the trembling form that was Mr Grant. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? Come, let us stand on the balcony.” She did not wait for a response before she clicked her way out of the office. The balcony was rimmed with waist high, black coloured, steel edged, frosted glass fencing. The sun was low enough that the shadows of the other high rise buildings and skyscrapers were now casting shadows across the building. Mr Grant hurried behind Ruth and huffed as he reached the fence. He swallowed hard and saw how high from the ground they currently were, 55 stories from the ground. “Let me explain what is going to happen, Mr Grant.” Hands clasped in front of Ruth as she rested them on the fence. She glanced to her right, watching Mr Grant as he puffed and panted. “You are going to pay for the mistakes you have made. You are going to thank me for this outcome and be grateful that worse didn’t happen to you.” Her entire body turned towards Mr Grant and a very sweet, unsettling smile spread across her face. ”Thank you for making this decision so easy to make, Mr Grant. I wish you all the best.” Ruth’s right hand sprung forward and grabbed Mr Grant by the neck. He coughed and spluttered, his hands grasping at her delicate looking arm. His face began to turn red when she lifted him from the ground, his stubby legs dangled as she rose his body higher than the topmost edge of the balcony edging. ”Do enjoy your complimentary skydiving lesson, Mr Grant. Consider it part of your severance package.” One fluid swing of her arm and Mr Grant was no longer on the 55th floor. An echoing yell of despair and utter terror rang out and lessened to the smallest whisper before long. Ruth made her way back into her office, closing the glass doors behind herself before settling behind her desk once more. A small yawn left her lips before she looked towards the door of her office. “Please send in my 4 o’clock.” Her thought rang out and the buzzer to her door rang out before the door opened to allow her next appointment to enter. A nervous, bespectacled woman shuffled in and looked around the room. There were no other exits from this office and the fear that spread over the woman’s face made Ruth’s face erupt into an ecstatic smile. “Please take a seat, Mrs Grant.”

Oliver La douleur était énorme. Être frappé dans le dos par un Githkin n'était pas une blague. Oliver, malgré cela, a rapidement essayé de voir s'il pouvait faire quelque chose pour sauver son ami. Malheureusement, il n'y avait aucun moyen de s'en sortir. Quand Tommy a souri à Ollie, ça lui a fait regretter d'avoir entraîné quelqu'un d'autre dans des ennuis qu'il a causés. Il a dit, "Désolé." Tout comme Ollie se tourna vers le poing qui allait détruire sa tête, une lumière apparut et l'engloutissait. C'était si lumineux qu'Ollie ne pouvait pas garder les yeux ouverts. Il lui a fallu quelques secondes pour obtenir les spots pour s'en aller, mais quand ils ont vu une pièce remplie de postes de travail et d'ordinateurs. Il a ensuite vu trois autres personnes debout sur une plate-forme avec lui. Il n'en a reconnu qu'un, mais heureusement c'était Tommy. Ollie regarda les deux autres jusqu'à ce qu'il entende une voix. L'homme a donné tout ce monologue sur comment il pensait que lui et les trois autres pourraient sauver le monde. Ollie pensait qu'il n'était pas possible pour si peu d'un nombre jusqu'à ce qu'il ait entendu deux mots qu'Ollie avait jotté comme mythe- Power Rangers. Quand Ollie était plus jeune, sa mère lui avait raconté des histoires de guerriers étonnants pour la race humaine afin de garder ses espoirs. Son père lui a dit que les histoires n'étaient pas réelles et qu'il devait se concentrer sur l'attente de la bonne chance d'éliminer Galatec. Ollie ne savait vraiment pas s'il pouvait croire ce que cet homme disait. D'une part Ollie espérait que quelque chose de bon se passerait, et d'autre part l'homme a dit qu'il avait l'habitude d'être haut rang parmi Galatec. Comment a-t-il pu lui faire confiance? Quand Tommy a commencé à courir avec des questions aléatoires, Ollie a en fait ri un peu. Pour une raison quelconque, cet endroit a rendu Ollie plus à l'aise. Il ne savait pas pourquoi. Malheureusement, la seule fille sur la plate-forme qui semblait avoir été poofed dans a commencé à dire comment c'était probablement un truc pour tester leur loyauté. Ollie a commencé à douter que ses espoirs se réalisent, mais il y a réfléchi. Tommy et lui allaient mourir. Ils savaient aussi qu'il était immunisé, alors pourquoi faire cela? Tout ce qui se passait a tellement confus Ollie jusqu'à ce que l'associé de l'ex-Galatec parle. Comme cette femme s'adressait aux doutes de Clémentine Ollie se leva et marcha autour. Si c'était un piège, il pourrait en trouver la preuve. Il a d'abord marché vers Tommy et a demandé tranquillement, "Hé, ça va? C'était assez proche. Tu sais que tu n'avais pas besoin de t'inquiéter pour moi." Avant que Tommy puisse répondre aux yeux d'Ollie a atterri sur six appareils sur une table. Ceux que Tommy avait mentionnés plus tôt. Pour une raison quelconque, Ollie se sentait attirée par eux. Ils étaient tous de couleurs différentes. L'un était rouge, l'autre bleu, vert, jaune, violet, et la dernière Ollie ne pouvait pas vraiment dire parce qu'il était encore un peu aveuglé de la lumière plus tôt. Ollie les regardait et se rappelait comment la femme, qui s'était présentée comme Samara, s'appelait Tommy Blue. Il a ensuite remarqué que six personnes se tenaient dans la pièce. Six personnes et six-uh-choses. Ceci combiné à la conversation constante des Power Rangers a rendu Ollie très confus, "Wait. Comment pouvons-nous être sûrs de pouvoir vous faire confiance? Les Power Rangers ne sont-ils pas juste des histoires racontées aux enfants pour qu'ils se sentent en sécurité? Supposons que vous nous disiez la vérité, et que les Power Rangers soient réels. Comment on va arrêter Galatec tout seul? Les Power Rangers dans les histoires n'avaient-ils pas une sorte de gars sur eux qui les aidait?"

Name: Oliver Johnson Nickname/Alias: Ollie Race: Human Age: 16 Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish. Gender: Male Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age. Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes. In The Mind Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself. He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him. Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air. Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it. Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys. Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone. Quirks: Is constantly zoning out. Where They’ve Been History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth. During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret. Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since. Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face. Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything. Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden. Bonus Round Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic." Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs. Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Green Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator. Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster. Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight. Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light. Zords: None at the moment.

Mable lâcha un bâilleur alors que son manager se mit à lui dire une fois de plus à quel point ce concert était important. Il a dit qu'elle pourrait être expulsée si elle gâchait ça, Mable a levé un front sur lui. "Déporté? Je suis juste une pop star Gajoon, qu'est-ce qui est si important dans ma performance ici qu'ils ont besoin de me menacer?" Elle a demandé, ses yeux sincères et innocents. Elle savait qu'on l'utilisait, mais il manquait beaucoup de détails. Qui donnait les ordres, qui supervisait vraiment sa carrière, et qui lui donnait ces horribles chansons de dieu? Elle secoua les épaules et secoua la tête. "N'importe quoi, je pense probablement trop à des choses." Elle a dit. Gajoon ne savait probablement pas grand-chose, et même s'il ne parlait pas, de peur qu'il ne risque d'être disparu par Galatec. Elle a quitté le parking et est entrée à l'arrière de la scène. Comme Gajoon l'avait dit, il y avait un groupe qui l'attendait, un groupe de personnes qu'elle n'avait jamais rencontrées auparavant. Comme ils s'y attendaient, ils se sont tous précipités vers elle, excités de la rencontrer et, bien sûr, honorés de travailler avec elle. Mable les a salués comme si elle voyait de vieux amis, brisant rapidement la glace. « Tout le monde a raison, nous n'avons pas beaucoup de temps, alors commençons! » Elle a dit d'attraper un micro. Heureusement, le groupe Galatec l'avait donné pour travailler avec était décent, et autant qu'elle puisse le dire n'était pas dans quel but de cette chanson était. Galatec a probablement été forcée d'utiliser l'aide extérieure, elle ne pouvait pas imaginer qu'il était facile de trouver des musiciens talentueux dans leurs rangs. Bientôt assez Mable a fait mémoriser la performance, des paroles de la chanson à sa routine de danse. Alors que les préparatifs finals ont eu lieu, elle a été mise dans une tenue colorée fluide et a dit d'attendre jusqu'à ce que le spectacle devait commencer

Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist) Nickname/Alias: Mable Race: Valiant Age: 20 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: Female Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples. Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank. Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts. In The Mind Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them. Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause. Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets. Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone. Fears: Failure, gloomy moods. Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning. Where They’ve Been History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet. She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec. Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside. Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability. Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire. Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out. Equipment: Morpher?? Bonus Round Quotes: "Peace and Love!" Theme Song: N/A Aspiration: Love and Peace! It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: ?? Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points. Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact. Powers: ?? Zords: Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd. This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!" She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough. Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming. As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were. The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away. "Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim. After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message. 'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.' As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home.

La jeune femme semblait amusée par le choc initial de Michael, mais cette amusement s'estompait assez rapidement. Il y avait des questions importantes qui méritaient son attention. Après que Michael eut répondu à sa question, elle s'est évanouie et s'est ridiculisée. "Tu as raison, ils ne sont pas normaux. Mais tu les as appelés diables. Ça me dit que vous êtes au niveau." Elle a éteint un bras latéral, une arme archaïque d'une époque révolue connue comme un pistolet de 9mm, et l'a retenu devant le mineur confus. "Je suis content que notre contact ait eu raison et que vous soyez immunisé. Comme nous. Nous sommes ici pour libérer autant d'humains que nous le pouvons, et paralyser la plus grande opération minière de Galatec sur la planète. Il faut les arrêter." Elle a fait une pause un moment, prenant le temps de regarder Michael droit dans ses yeux. Il pouvait voir quelque chose là-bas. C'est haineux. Elle était consumée par ça, comme un inferno qui faisait rage dans son âme même. "J'ai entendu parler de votre cousin. Elle a besoin d'être vengée, ne pensez-vous pas?" Le contremaître a été forcé de larguer son arme dans un saut désespéré pour éviter que le blaster Drax ait tiré. En se tordant dans l'air, il réussit à éviter de façon étroite le premier tir. Quant à la seconde, elle a eu exactement l'effet prévu par Drax. Jo'ones vola vers le haut dans l'air sous une pluie d'étincelles, ses écailles brûlées et brûlées. L'homme de lézard est tombé vers le bas, au-dessus de la rampe, mais il n'est pas tombé au fond. Jo'ones s'est servi de ses pieds articulés et a saisi le bord de la rampe. Tout comme Drax a déterminé que le contremaître était encore en vie, et qu'il s'accrochait à la vie chère, il a reçu une transmission de la fréquence de communication de Ruth. Général Drax, nous avons une situation. Retournez au bureau des Foremans maintenant. Si le lézard n'est pas encore mort, apportez-le aussi. Les ouvriers n'arrêtaient pas de partir, malgré le tempérament de Ruth et ses gifles. Son examen de l'esprit a révélé leurs pensées. Le premier assistant était absolument terrifié par Ruth, mais utilisait cette peur pour rester concentré sur la tâche à accomplir. Elle a furieusement tapé sur l'ordinateur, désespéré pour des résultats. Le deuxième a ressenti leur traitement. Il était en colère contre Ruth, mais savait mieux que de se plaindre. Il a lui aussi tout mis dans son travail, mais a été complètement flummoxé sur ce qu'il fallait faire ou ce qui s'était passé. Au fur et à mesure que les ordres mentaux sortaient, Ruth sentait la ganterie de Red Rock se brouillant sur le point d'achever leurs ordres. Aussi bien dans son esprit qu'à l'écran Ruth pouvait voir les soldats clonés vérifier sous chaque rocher, dans chaque ruse, rassembler tous les esclaves qui étaient immunisés au « reconditionnement », et toutes sortes d'autres actions. L'un d'entre eux s'est toutefois distingué. Ruth sentait l'esprit d'un githkin d'élite la toucher, qu'elle reconnut par son numéro de série XJ-47. Madame, j'obéis et j'ai beaucoup à dire. Pendant ce temps, les assistants ont fait une percée. "Madame Ruth, j'ai trouvé quelque chose!" a appelé la femme effrayée. "C'est le directeur de comptabilité Shplorn!" En effet. L'écran affiche Shplorn, le directeur de la comptabilité, et le superviseur actuellement assigné des deux esclaves qui ont disparu. Elle était dans ses quartiers personnels en train de parler sur une sorte de communicateur, mais l'écran de vision ne pouvait pas interpréter ce qu'elle disait. Il y avait une sorte d'interférence. Plus qu'un peu de poisson. L'équipe, ou les personnes qu'il avait espérées constitueraient leur équipe, avait des doutes. Il fallait s'y attendre. Au moins Tommy a immédiatement sauté à la cause, comme John l'avait prédit. Clementine avait les plus grands doutes, qui semblaient s'exprimer comme une sorte de dépression nerveuse, alors qu'Oliver était tout simplement hésitant. Jonas avait été silencieux jusqu'à présent, mais cela devait être attendu sur la base du fichier de personnalité que Jean avait compilé. "Mon assistante a raison. Vous êtes peut-être le dernier espoir de ce monde. Et non, Oliver. Les Power Rangers ne sont pas seulement des histoires. Ils n'ont tout simplement pas été nécessaires. Pas pour l'humanité, pas pour un certain temps." Il a pris un moment pour redresser sa cravate, puis a appuyé sur un bouton sur une télécommande, qui a activé un écran de vue. Images de divers rangers de puissance à travers les âges joués sous leurs yeux mêmes. Des guerriers fortunés aux couleurs vives qui luttent contre des monstres maléfiques à travers le temps, inspirants et bienveillants, luttaient pour le bien des gens qui les entourent. « C'est votre héritage, les jeunes. Ce sont vos protecteurs et ils étaient très réels. C'est une fière tradition d'humanité. Je devrais peut-être vous montrer... Fière tradition de Galatec." John a appuyé sur un autre bouton, et l'écran a changé d'image. Ce qui s'est passé sous leurs yeux maintenant était terrible. Des gens forcés à travailler dur, certains travaillant à mort. Des planètes entières strip-minées jusqu'à ce qu'elles soient creuses et s'effondrent sur elles-mêmes. Des espèces entières font l'objet d'expériences. John l'a éteint juste avant qu'un scientifique Galatec ne soit sur le point d'effectuer une autopsie sur une espèce de créature extraterrestre sensible... Tout en étant pleinement vivant et conscient. "Je comprends pourquoi vous ne faites peut-être pas entièrement confiance à moi et à mon associé. Je ne t'en veux pas. Cependant, je tiens à vous assurer, non, de vous promettre que je suis pleinement digne de confiance et prêt à vous guider. Mentorez-vous. S'il vous plaît, dirigez-vous vers la nécrologie à l'écran." En effet, il y avait maintenant une nécrologie sur l'écran de vue. Le nom était le même que celui que l'homme avait donné comme le sien, avec la date de la mort il y a presque six mois. Cependant, l'image ne correspondait pas au moins. Il était clairement un humain, tandis que l'image était d'une sorte de grand, gantant paraissant extraterrestre. "Il y a six mois, j'ai simulé ma propre mort et j'ai échappé à Galatec avec des technologies classifiées et du matériel de recherche. J'ai depuis pris cette forme pour mieux m'intégrer. J'ai pris beaucoup de risques pour que votre peuple puisse survivre et prospérer dans cet univers. Samara a été une aide phénoménale, mais nous avons atteint la limite de ce que nous pouvons faire seul. Maintenant, c'est à toi de voir. Il est temps d'être un héros." L'entraînement a pris un peu plus d'une heure. Remerciez les stars que ce groupe était en fait assez bon pour suivre Mable, ou qu'il n'y avait aucun moyen qu'elle ait pu perfectionner la performance. Cela dit, après la dernière course, Gajoon se leva de son siège et se mit à applaudir, donnant à Mable trois applaudissements séparés avec ses nombreuses tentacules. "Splendide, mademoiselle d'amour!" il a félicité, se dirigeant vers elle et le groupe. "Je savais que tu serais capable de le faire. Assurez-vous juste que vous êtes aussi bon quand les lumières sont allumées et que les gens sont dehors, et nous aurons nous-mêmes un spectacle parfait!" Mable a eu elle-même environ une demi-heure avant qu'elle ne se présente au maquillage pour la préparation du spectacle. Pour l'instant, le groupe a commencé à emballer les choses pour qu'ils puissent se reposer. Chacun s'en alla, se dirigeant vers qui-sait-où, tandis que Gajoon retourna à la direction d'affaires sur son communicateur mobile. Il a commencé à braquer une liste de dates d'exposition pour l'avenir, des réunions qu'ils avaient besoin de conduire, toute la journée minutiae qui ne concernait pas vraiment Mable tant, mais était le travail de Gajoon à traiter. À ce moment-là, il y a eu un coup à la porte. Douce, mais persistante, comme quelqu'un était excité mais inquiet de réveiller quelqu'un en même temps. Gajoon soit n'a pas entendu, ou ne l'a pas payé l'esprit, comme il a continué à annuler leur horaire pendant cinq semaines à partir d'aujourd'hui.

Name: Jackson Trent Nickname/Alias: Jack, sex on a stick (imo). Race: Human Age: 25 Ethnicity: Canadian, though no one would know what that means. Gender: Male Appearance: . |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about. Clothing: Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly. Personality: Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills. Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives. Likes: The Power Rangers White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea. The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost. Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before. Protecting people The greater good Dislikes: Galatec His job Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control His parents being under Galatec’s influence Fears: Slipping back under Galatec’s control Not being able to find the Power Rangers Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents Galatec defeating the Power Rangers Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them Dying on the job Quirks: He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right? History: Freedom. That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly. Until the Power Rangers. At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”. That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth... Talents: Extremely skilled with a tomahawk Animalistic instincts & reflexes Can see multiple approaches to a problem Agile on his feet A linear understanding of science Apparently quite the singer Hindrances: His perpetual mood swings He always sees the good in people Can sometimes be quick to judge Not exactly the one to sugar coat things His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people Powers: None. Zero. Nil. Equipment: An old mining torch A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day 10 shirts 4 pairs of jeans A pair of combat boots A pair of old sneakers An old scarf A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff) 7 bottles of water A sleeping bag 9 MRE kits Quotes: “Cross your fingers.” Aspiration: To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into.

Michael Sonnen Il était là maintenant, une colère et résolu forgé par le feu. Il a alors vu qu'il n'y avait pas de changement d'avis. C'était bon, il a décidé d'un scission-moment après. Ce n'était pas sa vie ou quelqu'un qu'il aimait. Crampé dans le tunnel a été préparé guerriers, hommes et femmes dont l'armure a laissé beaucoup à désirer mais dont les yeux ont parlé de l'espoir, la peur, et un chaudron-souvent d'autres émotions. Parmi eux tous, bien que ce fût leur espoir pour aujourd'hui qui brillait le plus. La respiration de Michael est devenue même alors qu'il a presque intinctivement essayé de se calmer. La situation réveillait quelque chose Il n'avait pas remarqué à quel point son poing était tendu, à quel point ses veines poussaient contre sa peau cicatrice. Puis... comme l'explosion de tout à l'heure, un inferno blasé dans ses yeux de noisette. Ils ont été ombrés par des sourcils brusquement renversés et une étanchéité était dans sa mâchoire. Ces mots étaient tout ce qu'il avait besoin d'entendre pour conduire ses cauchemars de Galatec dans un coin. Un coin qui était enveloppé dans une forteresse impregnable, une défense contrairement à tout ce qu'il pouvait conjurer. Ce n'était pas difficile de comprendre pourquoi mais pas beaucoup s'étaient égarés vers le sujet de son cousin. Le pickaxe dans sa main était presque oublié jusqu'à ce qu'il sente le chavirement de sa peau contre son bois. Michael a desserré son emprise avant de toucher l'ancienne arme dans sa main. Il avait quelques-unes des mêmes caractéristiques des nouvelles armes modèles; un canon, une gâchette, mais il tenait une sorte de style qui lui convenait tout simplement, il pensait mal à l'aise. Il l'a regardé avec curiosité, hissant la hache sur son épaule puissante tout en le faisant. Il parla ensuite sans regarder vers le haut, « Un total de trois-six à la mention d'un mot. » Parce que pour lui c'était vraiment un seul qui l'a déclenché. "Cousine". Ce seul mot invoquait souvent des émotions extraterrestres en lui. «D'autre part, je suis à bord, mais vous devrez me montrer comment l'utiliser», lui a-t-il finalement dit.

Name: Michael Sonnen. Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother). Race: Human. Age: 20. Ethnicity: African American. Gender: Male. Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye. Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In The Mind Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious. Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions. Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal. Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different. Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs. Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where They’ve Been History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think, This isn't right... Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought. Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off. His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered. "Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-" It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself. Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often. Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it? Powers: None. Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bonus Round Quotes: "We fight for today!" Theme Song: Throne Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Red Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung. Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently. Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets. Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes. Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty. "Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you." She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that. By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic. His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on. Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening. Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns. "Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself.

Jonah a mis une main sur l'épaule de Clémentine. Elle était de plus en plus instable, manifestement ébranlée par le contexte de la discussion et, bien qu'il comprenne son inquiétude, ce n'était pas ce dont ils avaient besoin en ce moment. Ils devaient penser calmement, évaluer la situation et ces gens pour déterminer leurs véritables motifs. C'était probablement un piège de toute façon, et même si ce n'était pas le cas, il n'y avait aucune raison de s'entendre avec ce qu'ils disaient. Cependant, l'un d'eux semblait totalement ignorant de leur situation. Si Jonah ne se concentrait pas autant sur la tâche à accomplir, il giflait le fabricant de jouets sur le visage pour avoir agi si ridiculement face à un grave problème. Est-ce qu'il pensait que c'était une sorte de jeu? Ça n'avait pas d'importance à la fin. Si c'était un test, Jonah était presque sûr que ce type avait échoué. L'autre avait ses doutes, il semblait un peu plus rationnel que le reste et contestait à juste titre leurs chances de succès. Que la femme, Samara, a commencé à parler de plans d'espoir, de rêves et de liberté. Leur "menteur" a même donné un discours à lui-même. Et puis ça l'a frappé, la conclusion finale née de sa philosophie. Il se moquait de la réalisation soudaine, de toute autre pensée qui semblait juste passer, se lavant face à ce qui se trouvait devant lui. La possibilité, la réalité potentielle, le frappe en même temps qu'il fait un pas en avant après avoir contemplé silencieusement un moment. Je vais dire que je le crois car je doute que ce soit un exercice. Compte tenu des circonstances, il est beaucoup trop peu probable que nous ayons tant d'attention et de planification pour un simple exercice de confiance ou de dépistage. Nous sommes de simples ouvriers sans grand pouvoir dans le système, ils seraient plus susceptibles de nous tuer s'ils avaient autant de soupçons. Son éblouissement oculaire aigu n'a jamais quitté sa cible. D'ailleurs, même s'il nous renvoyait, les caméras de sécurité nous auraient vus disparaître. Il y aura des questions, des enquêtes sur nos vies, c'est comme ça que ces choses fonctionnent quand un empire perd complètement la trace de ses travailleurs. Quelles que soient les libertés que nous avions avant ne seront pas là quand la poussière disparaîtra. Donc, vous êtes soit un menteur, soit vous avez joué avec toutes nos vies pour un idéal de juste soi-même. Comme je l'ai déjà dit, je suppose cette dernière option. Mais, avec tout cela étant dit, il n'y avait encore qu'une seule option, il ne restait qu'une seule voie. J'y suis. Parce que la vérité objective était, sa vie était finie, les discours d'espoir et les résolutions idéologiques n'avaient pas d'importance. Ses plans étaient partis, quelle que soit la confiance que Galatec avait en lui serait probablement brisée au moment où il a montré son visage à nouveau afin qu'il puisse aussi bien aller tout dedans. Ce qui est et ce qui n'est pas n'est pas, il ferait, c'est comme ça qu'il a vécu. Mais laissez-moi faire quelque chose de clair, je ne crois pas aux héros ou à une cause juste. Je fais ça parce que je le veux. Mais encore plus que cela, plus que la conclusion logique; il avait voulu que cela se produise, une excuse pour ne pas s'en soucier. Admettons-le, il attendait quelque chose comme ça pour le pousser depuis qu'il a laissé cette fille aller dans les mines, depuis qu'il a vu son nom plâtré sur un écran de télévision aléatoire qui disait qu'elle avait rejoint officiellement l'armée rebelle. "Alors," Il s'est plié les bras. "Quand est-ce qu'on commence?"

Name: Jonah Fallen Nickname/Alias: No Race: Human Age: 21 Ethnicity: East German on his mother's side, Russian on his father's side. He's also part polish and 1/15th Indian(not Native American) from his great grandmother. Gender: Male Appearance: Jonah is a light skinned male standing at 6'1 with toned muscles from working and his training. He has dirty blonde hair that he likes to keep short and sweet blue eyes that are usually seen sharpening at things he finds annoying. Along with those penetrating blues, he wears a set of thick rimmed glasses and keeps a small “glasses cleaning kit” in his pocket when ever maintenance is required. Despite working out daily, he appears as an average looking young man when wearing long sleeves since he focuses more on toning his muscles rather than having huge ones. His slightly chiseled features are smooth but he has some hair on his stomach. Clothing: He likes to keep things simple so he'll often be seen in a plain shirt and some jeans, he doesn't lean towards one color over the rest but is often seen in black or blue since his mother used to tell him it fit him best. He prefers short sleeved shirts and long pants but will change that up if it becomes uncomfortable to move in. For that same reason, he often sports sneakers as they are easy to move around in. In The Mind Personality: Jonah has an independent personality, he strives to be the best he can be because that's all he knows how to be. He keeps a cool head under pressure and always does his best to figure out the best solution to the problem at hand. He doesn't believe in good or evil, stating that all things are objectively of the same value. Often quiet unless spoken to, Jonah keeps an air of contemplation about himself and makes a note to distance himself from others so that they don't become a liability. While this method can supply an incredibly sturdy strength, Jonah's logical outlook can at times give way to his inter turmoils. See, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he is not always as cool as he thinks he is. While strong and independent, Jonah's attempts at apathy hides the fact that he does care about the people around him. His emotions are often the one thing he believes holds him back but they often supply more to his motives than he'll let on. Never to show fear, never to admit defeat, Jonah's logical thoughts can turn to mush when faced with having to deal with some of his inner-demons. Likes: Books that make you think about things. Silence. Dislikes: Stupid people. Self righteousness. Fears: That his rationality is just cowardice, that he's simply avoiding his greater emotions and is a hypocrite for telling people to not be controlled by them when he's letting them force him to flee from himself. Quirks: He loves to read, mainly books on philosophy which can sometimes overlap with books on strategy though most books on the art of war were destroyed. When upset or feeling unhinged, he'll take to cleaning his glasses to regain a form of control over his person. Where They’ve Been History: Jonah grew up in a small apartment in a not-so-friendly part of the city. It wasn't perfect but he had what he needed. His parents, on the other hand, were not quite as okay with their arrangement as he was. Starting from the womb, his parents pressured him to be the golden-child that would sky rocket them to the big times! Whether it was mathematics or sports, Jonah was told that he had to succeed to make life worth living for his family. He followed every rule but still slipped up, receiving negative reinforcement when he did so. But, eventually, he began to catch his stride. He started winning soccer games and getting A's on his tests and suddenly the negative reinforcement stopped. He was happy, his parents were happy, everything was better. Until he started hating his activities, started getting tired of waking up and never doing the things he wanted. At first, he hated this turning in his stomach because he loved his parents but he still couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him so mad at them some times. He didn't have friends to talk to so he sought knowledge in his books. The library was a short walk from his home so he'd spend as much time as he could just reading. He had a love for philosophy and thinking and used ideals he learned to come to the conclusion that what was happening to him wasn't a bad thing, it was just a “thing” and that him giving way to subjective beliefs was what was causing him problems internally. Eventually he began to distance himself from his parents until he didn't see them as his parents anymore, he saw them as just another problem. By the time he was ten years old, he had developed a form of detached apathy, a learned behavior he adopted to keep his emotions in check. Suddenly, he didn't smile as much. He didn't laugh at all and he didn't speak quite as much as he used to. He was only a child but he got better at rationalizing with age and by the time Galatec seized complete control, he was already stead-fast in his thought process. Besides, honestly, life didn't really change when they arrived, not for him any way. His parents went to work and left him with his books, though the material was now more about how to serve the greater good than anything else. They confiscated his other books on philosophical thinking and mathematics, apparently those were “dangerous books that brought about dangerous thoughts”. He grew up in that situation, unaware of how much the world was going to continue to change. Time went on, and just as he thought, people began to cope with the change. It had been years, and like all things that occur, what was once “horrible tragedy” became “yesterday”. Life was in a constant state of flux and he wouldn't let such a fact break his concentration. His mother, now a widow after the passing of her late-husband, pushed Jonah to make a name for himself in the new society, she saw that he was different than everyone else now and thought she could bank on it. Jonah agreed because he didn't want to be thought of as expendable, besides, working hard was how he made it through life, keeping his center is how he survived. He had to keep a rational mind and continue moving forward. And that's exactly what he did. He began working as soon as possible, Galatec didn't care about age so long as their workers knew what they were doing. Eventually, he stood out and worked his way up, volunteering for the riskier parts of the job until he was being looked at by the higher ups. He refused to sit idle, not for honor or pride but because he knew that he only got one chance at life, knew what it meant to waste time and effort. Through it all, he kept his composure. He rationalized everything he saw, closed his eyes and reminded himself about the philosophies he put his trust in because that's all he had to stand by. Maybe he had problems with the blank eyes of some of the other workers, maybe he would be up at night, trying to see why his own eyes still flickered with life, maybe he wondered about the girl he once saw with the same eyes as him. But that didn't matter, work mattered, staying alive mattered. “You don't get second chances at life.” He reminded himself on those nights. “Galatec is in control, there is nothing you can do, don't be illogical, keep yourself centered...” Like that, every day. “What is is, and what is not is not.” They were truths, he could rely on truths. He just couldn't stand with them in his entirety. After all, he was still human. When the opportunity arose, Jonah volunteered for bodyguard duty, knowing that it meant he'd be given martial training and hoping it would supply a better standing for himself and, by extension, his mother. He was healthy enough, had a strong build from staying fit so he didn't have much trouble being selected. His training went by pretty easily as he took rather well to punching things into submission, perhaps due to some seriously repressed rage? Whose to say? After the initial adrenaline of letting loose for the first time wore off, he began practicing more at home, honing his reflexes as best he could. While not a god of the martial arts, he was able to prove himself worthy enough to stand guard for some big shots in the corporation. It didn't involve much, just watching and waiting for anything to slide by, a pretty simple procedure. As time went on, he did his work well, making a small name for himself with the others in his profession. It was an easy life really, easier than manual labor though how he trained at home, you'd think other wise but he still felt an unease about himself . One of which was when he first met a member of the rebels, a group that had yet to come to terms with what was and tried to ruin the status quo. Didn't they understand the feedback of what they were doing, how nothing changed but the amount of panic they caused to minor citizens? He had been on a regular patrol when he saw one, a rebel running from some other guards. He moved to assist but noticed that he recognized her, she was the girl with eyes like his, eyes still flickering with life. He wasn't sure why, but he let her pass, let a dangerous rebel pass by without a fight. She looked at him at as she ran by, first with confusion and then with a small smile continued on her way. He didn't realize it until turning around to see his reflection in a window, didn't even recognize the unfamiliar sensation... But he had a smile on his face as he watched her disappear around a corner.... After the encounter, he moved out of his old home and got a small apartment, feeling that the connections he had were clouding his judgment. Something about having to see his mother's eyes made him nervous so by 20 he was gone. Before he left, he promised her that he'd keep doing his best, though he didn't see the point in the ritual since he planned to do so anyway. His life was steady, to a degree but all of that, his worries and his real desire, came to a front when he was faced with a life changing decision. It had been so normal, training had gone well and nothing out of the ordinary had shown up as he escorted his charge through the street. Until suddenly, everything went to hell. Someone blew a bullhorn and a fire erupted on his left, a bit distraction for the person running towards the target, his charge. The attacker, a masked assailant ran in a panicked frenzy with a scream of desperation. They were part of the rebellion. Obviously, the attack failed, Jonah struck their weapon to the ground before a sharp low kick knocked away their legs and they were falling to ground. The assailant scrambled to their feet and began to scurry away, Jonah gave chase and they made their way all the way out to the coal mines. “Stop chasing me!” The assailant shouted as they jumped into the large ditch where the entrance was located. The masked fighter tripped on their landing and fell with a huff. As Jonah followed suit, landing in a roll, the attacker made one last lunge that Jonah quickly put a stop to when he threw them to the ground with one arm twisted behind their back. “Let me go!” “You are weaker than me, you should have been prepared for this outcome.” He responded as he pulled off her mask to reveal.... The girl with eyes like his. Yes, the girl he had let go earlier came back, the one he used to see when he thought about the life he was living came back after failing once already. Why did she come back, why didn't she learn her lesson and why was he thinking about letting her go again. Why did seeing this person fighting still make his heart stop a second, make him think about what he could be doing differently. “I know you, you're the guy who let me by the last time.” She said in realization. “And you're the one who was dumb enough to go and come back after getting a second chance at life.” He responded, deadpan as he pulled her to her feet. “What point is there to life if you can't make your own choices?” She retorted with a strange fire in her eyes. She broke out of the grip and glared at him. “You and I have the same eyes you should see things a lot clearer.” “Don't you understand, the war's already over.” He responded coolly. “This isn't your last pitch effort to save the world, we're not one city away from being under their control and you aren't the last key to the puzzle.” His steely blue eyes cut through her. “We've lost, the invasion you're trying stop? That's come and gone and people have moved on with their lives, what is is and what is not is not so stop living in a fairy tale world and get it together or you won't even have a life to cry about.” Those were the facts, the rebels should know that. Galatec was already in control, there wasn't a war to fight anymore, all that was left were lives to live as best as possible. Throwing yourself into a self-righteous ideal only serves to get you killed and there's no coming back from that. “Clearly, it was a mistake to let you go, I won't make it again.” “Okay,” She still had a smile on her face though. “than why am I not being turned in right now?” And then he had to be quiet as her smirk grew. “Why do I know that you're never going to turn me in?” She walked up close and never broke eye contact. “It's because you know what they'll do to me, don't you?”She took a step forward and he took one back. “You get how that's wrong, and you care.” She stepped passed him and he turned his head but didn't move to stop her. “Ya know, a guy like you could do something if he wanted, way more than me.” She climbed out of the hole before turning to look down at him and give a quick and playful salute. “Maybe stop trying to make sense of the situation and find out what you really believe, you're a human so you should act like one!” She ran off around yet another corner, leaving him to his thoughts. “Crap..” He said to himself. Why did he let her let go...again!? Why did he smile the last the time, why doesn't he feel bad about doing it now? Maybe it was an idiotic thing to give up on the ideals of right and wrong, maybe he had been idiotic about a lot of things. He had tried doing it his way for as long as he could remember, it was how he survived but was surviving and living the same thing or was he making them the same so he could deal with the situation? What were his real motives for his way of thinking, how much was logic and how much was fear? He stood there at the entrance of the mine, thinking to himself about what he'd do next. Talents: Logical thinking, more than anything else. Jonah may be good at fighting but that's a skill, his true talent, which could be considered the back bone of all his skills, is his logical mindset which gives him the ability to strike precisely and plan accordingly. Hindrances: Empathizing, holding his temper, admitting he was wrong, and expressing himself. Equipment: Morpher(Blue Ranger). A normal combat knife he keeps on him for special occasions and his glasses/glasses cleaning kit. Bonus Round Quotes: “What is is, and what is not is not.” Theme Song: nope Aspiration: To find out what he really wants in life. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation:Violet Primary Weapon:THE PHOTON BOW The photon bow is a light based, long bow that generates arrows of pure energy to strike down its target. The bow is capable of firing multiple arrows at once with its average maximum being four unless overcharged (which will result in a rain of twelve arrows before the weapon is forced to recharge). By turning the bow, one can focus the arrows into one incredibly condensed and narrow blast, but this attack takes a lot of time to charge which leaves the archer open to attack. As each attack's quantity and quality are affected by both how long and in what way a person pulls back the bow string, the bow is not for the clumsy or undisciplined. It takes timing and calculation to bring out this weapon's maximum potential. Energy Shield: His shield is a circular shape, perfect for blocking attacks. It's a very nice shade of purple and glows in the dark. Blaster Design: Silver trim, black trigger, mostly violet. It has a sleek design with the gun's barrel having a thin line of silver across its top. The actual muzzle is the same pitch black as the trigger and there's a neon line of green running along the side of the gun. Powers: As the violet ranger, Jonah has the ability to see across all spectrum of sight. He makes calculations on how to strike next by scanning people's bodies with X-Ray vision and using infrared, he has the ability to shoot people down and fight accurately in the shadows. Along with X-ray and infrared, Jonah can see UV light and Radio waves along with much more. With vision beyond an eagle's, Jonah can strike down any opponent with deadly precision. Zords:N/A Jonah stood behind a lone tree with his binoculars set to night-vision, the darkness only lightened by the stray strands of the moon.. He had set up his sting in a small park for kids, surrounded by small shrubbery and a few trees all of which was going to be demolished soon. Across from him stood the construction zone where they were working on a 20 floor parking garage. As if the world needed more places for Galatec to park their fancy vehicles. He was there because there had been a report of beasts getting loose from the science division, a few Githkin test subjects had broken out of the lab and ran off into the city with a few people commenting on seeing them in the park at night. No one was advised to stay indoors because Galatec didn't want panic to ruin their precious balance which meant the people of the city were being left high and dry. Instead, curfew was moved up to 9:00 pm, lucky there weren't any encounters in that short amount of time. But now, night had fallen and anyone not in doors was a target which didn't seem to matter as there had been no sign of any people for awhile. Jonah wasn't sure if he was happy or sad about that. In this part of town there was always someone trying to get one over on you, he remembered hearing gun shots from his window from time to time, now he doesn't hear anything, no crimes, no muggings just the silence of night. “Every thing's so peaceful now.” He thought to himself as he watched the area. It was nights like these where he was the most conflicted. He was about to stop a few monsters that could kill a lot of people but he wasn't sure if the city has ever been safer than it is now. Nights like these could happen every day, a few Githkin escaping every night and it might not even make a dent in Earth's war torn history. This was one of the main reasons he couldn't except the other ranger's idea of a righteous victory, he couldn't say that Galatec wasn't a benefit to earth as a whole. He certainly got higher in this society than his background would have allowed him to before, there wasn't much prejudice or pollution or war. Just work and while that might be boring he couldn't say that weren't plenty of people who should only have that option in life. *rustle* His gaze instantly went to a bush on the opposite side of his hiding place. His hand went for his morpher but he didn't move, he wouldn't till he confirmed his target. As he watched, two figures popped out of the bush, they looked around warily before fulling stepping out into the moonlight, revealing their small frames. Children, two of them, they walked around as if trying to find something. The first was about twelve while the other was at least 13. Jonah didn't move from his post but instead used his binoculars to scan them closer. He noticed that they weren't frightened, instead being rather resolved. Judging by their hooded attire, they must have planned to be outside tonight. Hooded children out scouting the night sky with an emotion in their eyes, they must be part of the .5% meaning.. They were rebel scouts. “Great, just what I needed.” Jonah scoffed to himself, obviously not thrilled with the idea of having to deal with another rebel problem. Those guys really need to start leaving things to the professionals. Not that he was any more of a professional than they were but he definitely had more combat training. Luckily they didn't spot him as he hid in the shadows, to bad a very aggressive group of something had the duo in their sights. The rogue Githkins, five of them. The creatures moved toward the children and they screamed. The scout duo clearly hadn't had access to the same reports that his team had. The younger child ducked behind the eldest but still held some form of courage as the creatures drew nearer. The first Githkin raised it's hand to strike but the blow was offset by a timely thrown stone that knocked it's hand off course. The beast quickly turned to identify the attacker only to be met with a larger stone striking it in the face, in fact they were all being pelted with stones, most at their legs and ankles but a number of them aimed at their eyes and face. The children were initially scared but then became rather perplexed when they saw their would-be attackers being pelted. They stood there curious before a glimpse of a figure in the shadows ushering them to escape had them nodding and running back into the bushes, leaving as fast as they had come. “Perfect.” Jonah thought within the shadows. “They didn't see my face and I managed to sit some of those idiots in the eye.” He quickly scanned them over, three of the five still looked like they had a decent control of their faculties. “Even blind, that's still too many for my liking, I'll have to fight them on my terms if I wanna win.” And then he remembered the construction yard. “That's it.” He dashed out of the foliage to close the distance between him and the Githkin, Shocked at first, one made a fierce swing he ducked and rolled under before popping up to his feet in between the two blinded by stones. He deflected a left hook with an open palm before his leg whipped up to kick both eye damaged Githkin's in the chest, leg swinging back and forth between the two of them. "As I thought." The attack merely stunned them and soon the others were on him as well, swinging violently as he back flipped away and skidded to a stop. “That's right, your enemy's right here,” He cockily saluted before running into the parking garage shadows with the Githkin's hot on his trail. “Alright,” He swiped his hand over his wrist and his morpher flashed “Strike force, flash forward!” In the parking garage on level three, the Githkin's crept. Deep into the shadows they lurked, foot steps echoing in the hollow space, often turning at the sight of a shadowy gray figure passing by them like a phantom. Their eyes scanned the area for their prey but to no avail. As they passed by a pillar of stone, a sound, a click, had them halting in surprise. They lay unaware of who was on the other side. "X-Ray activated..." Jonah, donned in dark purple armor of his ranger form stood with bow drawn. The dim light of the bow focused and tightened as the arrow of light condensed. "Focusing rate: 100%" The creature's pondered as they began to take a step closer to the pillar of stone. "Firing..." Jonah released the bow string and the arrow shot through the stone pillar and the skull of the Githkin on the other side. The other soldiers went frantic on the defense when their companion turned into ooze but Jonah was already moving. "Infrared activated." His vision swapped out and suddenly he could see all of them clearly as they scrambled in the darkness. He pulled his bow string back before dashing out of his hiding place in a dive roll, landing on one knee with bow drawn and arrows already appearing between his fingers. He let it loose, just as the nearest Githkin began to notice his presence, and littered its body with three arrows to its chest. It screeched before dissolving and suddenly he couldn't hide anymore. They closed in but Jonah was already readying his bow as they rushed him. “Here we go..” He dashed backwards as one came down on him with a punch that cracked the concrete. As it moved to continue its rampage, he released a charged arrow through its chest before running up to back-kick it into the others and fire another three arrows into the group. As they scrambled to regroup in the shadows, he switched to X-Ray and scanned them for damage. “That last attack was on stun but the one in front received most of the damage and can't move, I'll focus my attacks on the two left as the weakened one slows them down.” By the time he finished his thought they were on him again. He back-flipped to dodge a high swing and side stepped the flying kick from another, striking the attacking Githkin with his bow before having to dash backwards and avoid the mighty swing of the weakened Githkin. He returned to the fray with a flying knee that struck the weakened Githkin in the chest, knocking it into one of its companions and freeing Jonah to strike down the one now left alone. It moved to attack but he back-flipped away to skid across the ground with bow drawn. As the arrow charged, he dodged the incoming blows from the Githkin soldier; ducking and weaving past each punch, smacking away the clumsy kick that followed with a high kick of his own and bringing up his bow before releasing it at point blank range to turn the soldier's skull into gray goop and watching as the rest of its body dissolved. Just as the other two Githkins managed to center themselves and go for a retaliation, his purple suit turned dark gray and he faded back into the shadows. Like a phantom, he circled them as he slid from pillar to pillar in the darkness. With a steady hand he pulled back his bow string and two arrows appeared between his fingers. The light of the arrows released a light shine as they began to glow. And then he was dashing forward He released the two arrows, hitting the back of the weakened Githkin's legs and making it buckle to its knees. As it went to get up, Jonah ran up its back and used it as a spring board to become air borne with bow string drawn. Before the other Githkin could think, it was struck with three stun arrows to the chest and Jonah was closing the remaining distance with a flying kick that had it skidding backwards. As the Githkin stumbled to regroup, Jonah hit the ground in a roll, landing right below the soldier on one knee with bow pointing straight up. "Firing." He released and the concussive force smashed into the Githkin's jaw, sending it flying up into the air and falling to the ground with a splat. Standing to full height, he turned, fingers already pulling back his bow string. He casually walked by the remaining drone and with out looking, let go the arrow of light between his fingers. The last thing it heard was the whirl of energy.... Jonah breathed heavily as his ranger form shattered out of existence. He had been lucky, the obstacles in the unfinished parking garage gave him ample back up for his strategy. Had he been left in the open, the tide could have very well changed to their favor but what could have been wasn't really important now. By hook or by crook he was still alive and the kids were still alive, that was all that mattered now. He sighed to himself, heart still racing from the exertion. He waited for a moment to steady himself before he retrieved the item he had been hiding in the back of his pants. A flare gun, simple but elegant in its design. He pointed the weapon up at the sky and fired. The flare flew high into the sky before exploding like a fire work. “That'll get Galatec's attention.” He noted. Now notified in as proper a way as possible, the corporation could retrieve their lost and unstable experiments. Jonah wasn't totally pleased with the idea of assisting someone he had designated as his enemy but he couldn't clean this up on his own and Galatec had better facilities for the alien soldiers albeit slave ready more than anything else. “I guess that means the mission's over.” “Time to head back to base.”

Adelram Drax Adelram a calculé son prochain plan d'action. Avec le Foreman au-dessus de la rampe, une balançoire de sa hache serait très problématique pour l'ex-soldat. Il a saisi le bout de la poignée de sa hache qui était attachée à son dos, mais s'est arrêté quand une communication soudaine tournait à travers sa communication. Sa nouvelle directive était de reprendre le Foreman captif une fois de plus, s'il n'était pas déjà mort. La mission de Drax vient d'être prolongée, le Foreman étant encore en vie. Il a également commencé à examiner les possibilités pour lesquelles le directeur régional souhaitait revoir le Foreman. Toutefois, cela ne l'inquiétait pas. La mission sera achevée. "Foreman Jo'ones, Madame Ruthalia souhaite avoir une audience avec vous. Votre conformité n'est pas nécessaire, mais peut être appréciée. » Drax a dit que la voix était prévisible, même et claire. Alors qu'il prononçait ces paroles, il se déplaçait rapidement jusqu'à l'endroit où le Foreman pendait et tentait d'attraper ses jambes avec sa main gauche géante.

Name: GD-002-17 Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath Race: Android/Robot Age: 7 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: "Male" Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form. Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints. His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder. In The Mind Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view. When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords. Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like. Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike. Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up. Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission. Where They’ve Been History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax. When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin. He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him. Talents: Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down. Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons. He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander. He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum. He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent. Hindrances: He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck. If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited. Powers: Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry. Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain. Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position. Equipment: Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers. One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies. Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time. And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering. He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air. Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out. Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision. Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets. Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload. Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired. Bonus Round Quotes: "..." "The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%." "..." Theme Song: i dunno Aspiration: File not found. "Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure. "The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun. "Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight. "This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply." The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor. The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail. Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking. Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up. Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind. When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere. If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed. He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level.

C'est quoi, ce bruit? Est-ce que... c'est un tas de poissons qui flippent? Mable muselé, seulement pour se retourner et voir que c'était son manager applaudissant avec ses bras Lovecraftian. Elle a ri dans un rire qui voulait désespérément sortir. "Ne vous inquiétez pas de ma performance, je n'ai jamais fait une seule erreur lors d'un concert, et je ne vais pas commencer maintenant." Avec l'entraînement fait et son maquillage appliqué, elle n'avait rien à faire jusqu'à ce que le spectacle commence, c'est-à-dire jusqu'à ce que quelqu'un frappe à la porte. Mable regarda autour de lui et vit que personne d'autre n'était pressé de voir qui c'était, alors elle marcha vers elle-même et l'ouvrit.

Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist) Nickname/Alias: Mable Race: Valiant Age: 20 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: Female Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples. Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank. Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts. In The Mind Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them. Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause. Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets. Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone. Fears: Failure, gloomy moods. Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning. Where They’ve Been History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet. She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec. Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside. Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability. Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire. Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out. Equipment: Morpher?? Bonus Round Quotes: "Peace and Love!" Theme Song: N/A Aspiration: Love and Peace! It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: ?? Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points. Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact. Powers: ?? Zords: Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd. This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!" She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough. Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming. As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were. The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away. "Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim. After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message. 'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.' As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home.

En entendant Samara dire que 'Galatec n'était pas leur ami', laissez-le s'enfoncer pour Clementine que ce n'était pas une blague. Puis cet extraterrestre du nom de John leur a montré une vidéo de l'héritage de Galatec. Clementine a admis que Galatec avait sa juste part d'enjeux, mais Galatec était si grand, certaines choses étaient obligées de glisser à travers les fissures. De plus, n'était-ce pas la meilleure façon de changer un système cassé pour le réparer de l'intérieur? Et ce n'était pas comme si Clementine n'était pas complètement au courant de certains des aspects « moins éthiques » de l'entreprise ou des conditions de travail « harssières » de certains employés; son peu de temps dans les mines lui avait montré plus qu'assez, il ne semblait pas que Galatec avait beaucoup l'intention de la cacher. Mais c'était juste une de ces choses que les gens étaient censés prendre comme une nécessité malheureuse. C'est vrai, si ce n'était pas pour les rebelles qui perturbent les opérations, la production serait au maximum, les marges de profit seraient atteintes, et l'excédent serait réduit, améliorant le niveau de vie de chacun. Oui, si cet extraterrestre était fidèle à sa parole, il la laisserait s'éloigner d'ici; elle pourrait rapporter ce qu'elle avait vu, sans doute il travaillait avec les rebelles qui rendaient la vie difficile pour tout le monde. Elle se tourna vers Jonas pour la rassurer, et il la lui donna en mettant sa main sur son épaule, la calmant considérablement. Elle était sur le point de demander à être autorisée à partir quand Jonas a fait quelque chose qu'elle ne s'attendait pas : il a ri. Puis il a mentionné que leur vie en tant qu'employés était officiellement terminée. "Monsieur. C'est tombé! Tu ne peux pas le dire!" Clementine s'est évanouie quand elle s'est retournée et s'est emparée de son col. "Je ne suis qu'un employé de bureau, je ne fais pas partie de ça. Ils me ramèneront... ils me pardonneront... j'ai travaillé trop dur pour tout perdre comme ça... » Elle a dit cela plus dans une tentative de se convaincre contre ce qu'elle savait déjà être vrai. Clementine s'est mise à genoux et a rappelé toutes les nouvelles qu'elle avait vues, lui rappelant certaines des mesures plus draconiennes qui ont été prises contre les rebelles et les sympathisants rebelles présumés, mesures qu'elle s'est sentie justifiée à l'époque mais a pensé autrement maintenant qu'elle était potentiellement sur le point de recevoir. Bien sûr, rien de tout cela ne relevait de la définition juridique de la «torture», mais là encore, l'équipe juridique qui définissait la «torture» faisait partie du service juridique de Galatec. "Ma vie est finie. Ils me tueront, ou pire..." Clementine murmura à elle-même. Elle regarda Jonah, puis Samara et John, puis à Oliver et Tommy. Puis, sans caractère, Clementine a demandé quelque chose qu'elle n'aurait jamais pensé oser demander, « Je-y a-t-il un espoir de nous gagner? »

Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title? Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker Race: Humany Human of Humaness Age: 21 Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different. Gender: Male Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases. Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth. In The Mind Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need. Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things. Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others. Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black. Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can. Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts. Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own. Where They’ve Been History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens. Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free. After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously. It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him. Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things. Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger. Powers: N to the A biatch. Equipment: Blue Photon Morpher Red-Light-Emitting Necklace Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools. Ripped up miner clothes. Bonus Round Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!" Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Blue Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying. Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through. Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means. Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it.

Étant donné qu'Oliver était le plus jeune des élus, Samara ne pouvait pas lui reprocher d'être incapable de réunir cette situation par lui-même. Il s'agissait de questions simples qu'elle était plus que capable de répondre, mais le fait que les questions aient été posées dans un ordre aussi mitigé ne faisait pas de faveurs pour elle. Ce rôle — aidant John — avait ses avantages, mais jouer 20 questions n'était pas l'un d'entre eux. Sa mâchoire tendue et elle a forcé un sourire, "Oliver, tu ne sais pas si tu peux nous faire confiance, c'est l'idée," elle a dit. Samara a remis sa carte d'identité dans sa poche arrière. Il semble qu'il ait été ignoré, ou pire, personne n'était prêt à croire que ce n'était pas un complot pour les exposer. Vous prenez un risque et nous aussi, je viens de le faire. C'était peut-être difficile à rater, mais il n'y avait pas de secret de leur côté. John expliquait tout ce qui était pertinent à la situation actuelle et qui comprenait son ancien rôle au sein de Galatec, laissant place à des questions. Heureusement l'épargnant d'un mal de tête, John avait géré l'autre question qu'il pouvait répondre confortablement, et laissé ceux qui n'étaient pas productifs derrière. Il a apporté des images, des images qu'elle a aidé à compiler avec glee, des Power Rangers du passé qui se sont retrouvés ensemble contre des chances écrasantes. À partir de Mighty Morphin, les clips ont été compilés juste avant que la deuxième équipe liée à Dinosaur ne soit créée à partir d'un ancien mentor et d'un Ranger légendaire. Malheureusement, personne n'a semblé apprécier l'effort, et ils n'ont pas semblé trouver d'inspiration ou de courage à partir des vidéos qui leur étaient liées. Samara ne les a pas blâmés après que John ait mis en place cette horrible vidéo d'autopsie, une qu'elle avait déjà vu trop de fois, mais au moins l'autre vidéo était plutôt cool. Jonah avait ensuite parlé et mis les choses ensemble assez rapidement. Ses yeux se rétrécissaient légèrement au fur et à mesure qu'il continuait, et il lui fallut chaque once de sa force pour ne pas l'égorger pour même considérer que Jean était un menteur. Elle travaillait avec cet homme depuis trop longtemps pour douter de son intérêt à mettre fin à Galatec. Il y a peut-être eu une certaine intelligence derrière cet effort shoddy pour affirmer une certaine forme de domination sur eux, mais Samara n'était pas disposée à humourr l'attitude. Tout ce qui importe, c'est qu'il se batte contre Galatec. Ses raisons étaient les siennes. Comme prévu, il a fini par accepter de le faire comme Tommy l'avait fait. Avec cette rumeur, la panique de Clementine était toujours active. Elle a attrapé Jonas par son collier et semblait beaucoup trop frénétique pour trouver la maîtrise de soi toute seule. Après avoir sombré à genoux, Clementine s'était mise à murmurer sur le sort qu'elle allait trouver si elle rentrait. Jonas n'était pas l'exemple brillant de ce que cela signifierait d'être un Power Ranger, mais il avait raison sur une chose: Il y aurait des questions, des questions très intenses, sur l'endroit où ils ont disparu et ce qu'ils ont vu. Galatec peut choisir de les croire, et ils peuvent obtenir de revenir à leur vie, mais c'était le meilleur scénario. Cela ne sonnait pas comme le plus grand résultat qu'ils pouvaient espérer, mais Clementine se perdait déjà dans la peur des conséquences si elle revenait. Samara soupira et tendit la main à Jean qui lui dit de la laisser s'occuper de Clémentine. L'assistant s'approcha de Clémentine et s'agenouilla pour qu'ils soient au même niveau oculaire. Il y avait une pitié dans ses yeux qui n'était pas là avant. Clémentine, ici dans la saleté, c'est là que tu es déjà. Tu ne le vois pas encore, a dit Samara. Vous n'êtes pas mon minerai comme tout le monde, mais croyez-moi quand je dis que vous êtes juste un corps chaud qui a assez de sens pour faire ce qu'ils vous disent. A la fin de la journée, c'est tout ce que tu es pour eux, et c'est tout ce que tu seras jamais. Clementine était l'une des deux qu'elle ne voulait pas impliquer dans cela. Elle s'écroulait sous pression avant même d'être mise dans une position qui la mettait en danger. Si cela devait être une constante pour elle — se jeter à genoux et demander pardon à ses seigneurs Galatèques — alors Samara peut décider avec préemption de la renvoyer et la laisser parler de son chemin hors de ce qui s'est passé. Ce n'était pas par dépit; comme on l'a dit plus tôt, s'ils ne veulent pas se battre non seulement pour eux-mêmes mais pour les autres aussi, ils peuvent être renvoyés ailleurs et essayer de revenir à leur vie médiocre et soumise. Je vous ai montré mon identité. John a accepté de vous encadrer tous et de vous amener là où vous devez être pour combattre ces gens. Nous sommes tous les deux esclaves pour donner à l'humanité une chance de combattre Galatec, et nous avons pris un risque avec vous quatre. Samara a jeté un coup d'œil à Jonah, puis a affronté Clementine à nouveau. Désolé que nous n'ayons pas obtenu votre consentement. Tu n'as pas pu demander à maman et papa la permission de sauver le monde. Mais nous sommes désespérés, nos options sont rares, et à la fin de la journée Jean a mis sa foi en vous, même quand j'étais dans le doute. Il voit de quoi tu es capable, et il t'a choisi – personne d'autre ne t'a précédé – il T'a choisi –, Samara a légèrement piqué le front de Clémentine,, pour nous donner notre monde, et notre liberté en retour. Samara revint à ses pieds, puis étendit la main à Clémentine pour la prendre si elle le voulait. Nous allons vous aider à les affronter à chaque étape du chemin, mais je refuse de vous aider à marcher quand vous êtes heureux de ramper. Faites un choix Clem,, Samara a regardé Oliver,, et cela va pour vous, aussi. Dites le mot et je vous sors de là. Ne nous fais pas confiance. Retournez à gratter une vie à leurs talons. Contrairement à Jean, Samara n'était pas disposée à laisser cette pitié continuer avant qu'elle ne devienne un problème sérieux. Clementine tuait tout moral que John et elle-même espéraient construire en s'enfonceant si pitoyablement. Cela ne pourrait pas être le chemin pour tout le monde, mais si Clémentine était en train d'hésiter à ce stade, elle ne laisserait tomber que d'autres qui comptent sur elle. Ou, joignez-vous à nous et créez l'espoir que vous cherchez. Samara ne tenait sa main que quelques secondes de plus. Peu importe si Clémentine avait pris en considération tout ce qu'elle avait dit, ou choisi de rester dans la saleté et gémir sur la façon dont la vie était si dure pour elle, l'assistant retournerait à son ordinateur et préparerait le RDS pour un voyage de retour s'ils voulaient s'en aller. Sinon, elle retournerait aux mines pour Michael avec le radar, qui, elle l'espérait, ajouterait une force nécessaire à cette équipe fragile et incomplète. Jusqu'à ce qu'elle s'adresse personnellement, il n'y avait rien de plus à dire. John pourrait le prendre à partir de là.

Samara Morgan Name - Samara Morgan Nickname/Alias - N/A Race - Human Age - 23 Ethnicity - African-American Gender - Female Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis. Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend. In The Mind Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends. She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest. However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood. Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right. Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously. Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames. Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her. Where They’ve Been History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background. One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed. It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold. It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking. The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way. Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising. Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture. Powers - N/A Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone. Bonus Round Quotes - No. Theme Song - Never. Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary.

Oh... tu as vraiment étudié sur nous si tu sais que je ne mange pas de galatec. Remarqué Tommy, qui n'avait pas besoin d'être dit deux fois de manger. En fait, il avait tellement faim qu'il a mangé tout le snack-bar en un temps record, et a bu la moitié de la bouteille d'eau. Presque mourir a tendance à faire faim... tout comme la sous-alimentation. Après avoir écharpé la nourriture, il a finalement déclaré qu'Oliver lui avait aussi parlé. Il a été rapidement distrait aussi bien, donc c'était une chance. "Mon pote, on sait tous les deux que tu y serais probablement mort... et je n'aime pas voir des amis mourir!" Il a dit, donner un grand sourire à Oliver. Regarder des vidéos d'extraterrestres disséqués vivants était un peu déprimant. Cependant, il fut rapidement contrasté par la gloire de diverses équipes de rangers de puissance! Ces guerriers semblaient puissants et colorés. Tommy aimait les couleurs, rien de plus ennuyeux que l'environnement monochromatique. Peut-être qu'il pourra décorer cet endroit une fois qu'ils auront tous officiellement rejoint... Cependant, une fois que Jonas a parlé, il a rapidement perdu une partie de son comportement. Il y avait une chose que Tommy ne pouvait pas tout simplement rejeter avec une attitude joyeuse. "Eh bien... tu as raison à propos d'une chose stoïque analyseur, on ne peut pas revenir en arrière. Personnellement, je m'en fiche, je peux être heureux où que je sois! Mais cela laisse la question, qu'en est - il de nos proches? Nous savons tous que Galatec viendra les chercher. » Tommy s'est faufilé avec un petit dinosaure en métal qu'il avait dans sa ceinture. Peut-être qu'avec un peu de l'oranium il pourrait créer un mécanisme qui ferait briller les yeux... et peut-être penser à cela le détournerait de la possibilité que sa famille pourrait très bien mourir...

Name: Jackson Trent Nickname/Alias: Jack, sex on a stick (imo). Race: Human Age: 25 Ethnicity: Canadian, though no one would know what that means. Gender: Male Appearance: . |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about. Clothing: Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly. Personality: Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills. Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives. Likes: The Power Rangers White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea. The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost. Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before. Protecting people The greater good Dislikes: Galatec His job Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control His parents being under Galatec’s influence Fears: Slipping back under Galatec’s control Not being able to find the Power Rangers Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents Galatec defeating the Power Rangers Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them Dying on the job Quirks: He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right? History: Freedom. That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly. Until the Power Rangers. At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”. That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth... Talents: Extremely skilled with a tomahawk Animalistic instincts & reflexes Can see multiple approaches to a problem Agile on his feet A linear understanding of science Apparently quite the singer Hindrances: His perpetual mood swings He always sees the good in people Can sometimes be quick to judge Not exactly the one to sugar coat things His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people Powers: None. Zero. Nil. Equipment: An old mining torch A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day 10 shirts 4 pairs of jeans A pair of combat boots A pair of old sneakers An old scarf A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff) 7 bottles of water A sleeping bag 9 MRE kits Quotes: “Cross your fingers.” Aspiration: To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into.

Michael Sonnen Plus vite que la plupart, Michael a eu les bases de son bras baissé. Il l'a tenu dans sa main et s'est assuré, au moins deux fois, que la sécurité était éteinte. Il a touché sa cicatrice de plusieurs émotions, rien de plus que la peur. Cependant, au-delà de cette crainte menaçante était un besoin puissant de vengeance. Il se sentait à la fois écrasant et nécessaire. Parmi les autres soldats, s'il pouvait les appeler ainsi, Michael se plaçait près de la seule personne à qui il avait parlé. Il avait douze tirs à jouer avec et un autre à remplacer le premier s'il s'enfuit. En marge de son esprit, il s'est rendu compte qu'il portait toujours son pioche. Si je n'ai plus de munitions, j'ai toujours ça sur lequel compter. Il s'y tenait fort alors que l'ascenseur rouillé grinçait, grinçait et grinçait avec l'âge. Michael ne pouvait pas mettre son doigt sur pourquoi il avait aveuglément chargé dans la mêlée avec ce groupe d'étrangers. Tout ce qu'il pouvait imaginer, tout ce qu'il pouvait penser, c'était sa culpabilité terrible pour la mort de Courtney. Je ne pouvais pas te montrer dans la vie, Courtney... Le cancer de Galatec. Donc peut-être dans la mort, si vous regardez et ne pourrit pas dans le sol... peut-être que vous pouvez voir à travers mes yeux, le mal qui est dans le leur. Il s'est envolé à l'extérieur. À l'extérieur, ses muscles se sont tendus et ses paumes sont devenues humides de sueur. À l'intérieur, il sentait comment il regardait dehors. Pleine d'adrénaline.

Name: Michael Sonnen. Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother). Race: Human. Age: 20. Ethnicity: African American. Gender: Male. Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye. Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In The Mind Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious. Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions. Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal. Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different. Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs. Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where They’ve Been History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think, This isn't right... Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought. Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off. His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered. "Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-" It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself. Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often. Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it? Powers: None. Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bonus Round Quotes: "We fight for today!" Theme Song: Throne Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Red Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung. Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently. Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets. Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes. Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty. "Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you." She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that. By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic. His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on. Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening. Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns. "Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself.

Jackson a écouté attentivement les filles se présenter, rappelant combien Galatec était grand pour leur obtenir un si bon travail où ils pouvaient rester ensemble. Galatec, c'était génial! C'est gentil de vous rencontrer! Je suis Jackson, et je serai ton foreur pour ce soir, il s'est glissé, gesticulant jusqu'à la perceuse derrière lui. Il prit une autre morsure de son sandwich, se frottant les mains sur son pantalon alors que l'air moussant tournait presque autour de lui, s'éloignait des lumières sombres et s'accrochait à ses vêtements, bien que l'homme en fût complètement inconscient. Telle était la naïveté d'un ouvrier lavé du cerveau comme lui, regardant les extraterrestres autour de lui et les voyant comme des compagnons, plutôt que ce qui allait devenir son pire ennemi.

Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title? Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker Race: Humany Human of Humaness Age: 21 Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different. Gender: Male Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases. Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth. In The Mind Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need. Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things. Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others. Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black. Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can. Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts. Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own. Where They’ve Been History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens. Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free. After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously. It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him. Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things. Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger. Powers: N to the A biatch. Equipment: Blue Photon Morpher Red-Light-Emitting Necklace Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools. Ripped up miner clothes. Bonus Round Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!" Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Blue Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying. Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through. Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means. Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it.

Quand Mable a ouvert la porte, son visage s'est figé en état de choc. Devant elle se trouvait un Githkin, l'un des êtres produits en masse utilisés par Galatec comme soldats de la paix et soldats. Pourquoi était-ce ici? Galatec a-t-elle découvert son implication avec les rebelles? Pendant des mois, elle avait glissé dans la faction rebelle toute information qu'elle pouvait, tant qu'il n'y avait aucun risque de révéler sa position. Elle a envisagé ses options. Avec sa force, elle pouvait facilement enlever ce Githkin, cependant, il n'y avait aucun moyen que ce soit seul. Si elle se battait ici, elle aurait probablement besoin de se contenter de tout ce qui l'attendait dehors. Lui donner une chance de se rendre paisiblement? Grosse erreur. "... Attendez, qu'est-ce que c'est dans votre... oh...... Ohhhh." Mable s'est gigotée et a étouffé l'arrière de sa tête. "Vous savez que vous pouvez avoir des ennuis si quelqu'un vous attrape, n'est-ce pas? Vous n'êtes pas censé être de retour ici." Elle a pris le stylo et le tampon et a écrit son nom complet dans la malveillance douloureusement fantaisiste. "Ne vous inquiétez pas, je ne le dirai à personne, soyez juste prudent à partir de maintenant, d'accord? Après tout, je ne voudrais pas que quelque chose de mal arrive à mes précieux fans! »

Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist) Nickname/Alias: Mable Race: Valiant Age: 20 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: Female Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples. Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank. Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts. In The Mind Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them. Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause. Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets. Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone. Fears: Failure, gloomy moods. Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning. Where They’ve Been History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet. She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec. Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside. Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability. Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire. Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out. Equipment: Morpher?? Bonus Round Quotes: "Peace and Love!" Theme Song: N/A Aspiration: Love and Peace! It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: ?? Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points. Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact. Powers: ?? Zords: Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd. This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!" She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough. Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming. As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were. The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away. "Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim. After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message. 'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.' As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home.

Oliver Tant de questions ont traversé la tête d'Oliver, mais la première était pourquoi lui? Il voulait croire que tout cela était vrai, mais il ne pouvait pas croire pleinement. Pas encore. Avec tous les autres qui ont accepté la demande de rejoindre l'équipe, la dernière était Ollie. Il ne voulait pas les décevoir, mais il ne savait pas s'il était assez fort. Ses pensées revenaient à ses parents, et il pensait à lui-même : *Que voudraient-ils que je fasse?Il savait qu'ils voulaient qu'il vive sa propre vie. Non contrôlée par Galatec. Il s'est rendu compte que la seule façon de le faire était probablement avec ces gens. S'il rentrait, il mourrait. Aucune autre option. Il espérait juste qu'il ne gâcherait pas les choses. "Je ne sais pas combien d'aide je serai, mais je suppose que c'est la seule chose à faire. Je vais t'aider. Dis-moi ce qu'il faut faire, et je m'en occupe."

Name: Oliver Johnson Nickname/Alias: Ollie Race: Human Age: 16 Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish. Gender: Male Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age. Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes. In The Mind Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself. He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him. Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air. Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it. Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys. Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone. Quirks: Is constantly zoning out. Where They’ve Been History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth. During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret. Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since. Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face. Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything. Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden. Bonus Round Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic." Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs. Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Green Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator. Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster. Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight. Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light. Zords: None at the moment.

Un éternuement formé sur le visage de Ruth, le mépris et la colère qu'elle tenait étaient évidents pour quiconque dans la pièce. Elle a peut-être été en partie satisfaite de la terreur que l'une de ces hontes a ressentie à son égard, mais le ressentiment qu'elle a instillé dans le second l'a rendue positivement giddy. L'imbécile avait mis une cible géante sur son dos et elle attendait de trouver une raison de se lancer dans l'opportunité. Elle aimait bien gifler avant d'ordonner à quelqu'un d'autre de faire son sale boulot. C'est là qu'elle s'est rendue compte qu'elle était peut-être un peu trop émotive et qu'elle ne le ferait pas. Beaucoup de choses se sont passées et elle a dû garder son esprit clair et capable. Elle a pris un souffle apaisant et a plutôt plissé son sourire charmant sur son visage une fois de plus. Elle s'est promenée pour se tenir derrière l'employé en rancune avec un clic et un clack. Ses mains bien manucurées reposaient sur ses épaules, leur donnant une douce pression d'encouragement. Elle n'a pas dit de mots, elle a simplement souri et s'est tenue sur ses épaules. Il a peut-être ressenti le ressentiment, mais elle pouvait apprécier sa capacité à lire la pièce, peut-être qu'il ne méritait pas d'être complètement décimé. Elle devait se pencher sur les points positifs de la situation, compte tenu en particulier de ce à quoi elle était actuellement confrontée. Il a toujours plu à Ruth de sentir le Githkin s'ébattre autour d'elle comme des insectes, l'écoutant tous les ordres. Elle tenait toujours un profond désir secret au sujet du Githkin, mais il fallait attendre. Pour l'instant, leur ordonner de réaliser ses désirs et ses besoins. Son sourcil se leva en entendant XJ-47 répondre à son commandement. Rapportez-vous au bureau des Foremans immédiatement. J'ai besoin de toutes les informations que vous avez. Tandis que l'effroi d'un assistant s'exprimait, Ruth sentit le grondement se briser sur son front. Éclate-toi. Ruth se mit de nouveau en communication mentale et commença à parler au Githkin d'importation plus élevée au même étage, dans le même domaine que le directeur comptable Shplorn. L'esprit de Ruth a trouvé celui de KT-25, un autre Elite Githkin qui portait le sash Elite standard et qui manquait les deux doigts extérieurs sur leur main gauche. Elite Githkin, KT-25. J'exige que vous emmeniez un petit groupe de Githkin dans les salles privées du directeur de comptabilité Shplorn et que vous me l'apportiez par tous les moyens nécessaires. Essayez de garder les choses calmes si possible, mais je donne la permission d'utiliser la force si nécessaire. "Oui Directeur régional, je vais vous apporter le directeur comptable Shplorn directement. "L'Elite Githkin a demandé à quatre autres Githkin de venir avec eux alors qu'ils se dirigeaient immédiatement vers les quartiers privés de Shplorn. KT-25 se leva la main gauche et frappa la porte de Shplorn. Le directeur de comptabilité Shplorn! Le directeur régional Ruthalia a besoin de votre aide immédiate au bureau Foreman. Nous vous demandons d'ouvrir la porte maintenant..KT-25 est revenu de la porte et a attendu la réponse de Shplorn. Ruth était satisfaite de la réaction instantanée des KT-25.Elle s'est fait une note mentale pour placer une note positive dans le fichier Githkin. La porte s'ouvrit et Ruth vit son Général entrer avec un Foreman Joyones un peu battu. Son nez ridé et elle s'est rendu compte à quel point elle avait été émotionnelle mais, tout compte fait, ses assistants ne sortiraient plus jamais de la ligne. Juste derrière Drax, Elite Githkin XJ-47 et Githkin 27-B sont entrés dans le bureau. Elle a noté la cicatrice sur son visage et a fait une autre note à elle-même pour savoir ce que ce Githkin avait fait pour recevoir une telle cicatrice. Elle s'occuperait de beaucoup de dossiers plus tard, il semblait. L'inquiétude qu'elle courait dans son esprit était insensée. Elle ne pouvait pas laisser ses patrons en entendre parler. C'était la dernière chose dont Ruth avait besoin en ce moment, ce n'était pas exactement ce qu'elle attendait, mais c'était pire. XJ-47, s'il vous plaît, faites votre chemin vers KT-25 et aidez-les et leur équipe en m'amenant le directeur comptable Schplorn. Envoyez une alerte sur les humains suivants : Jonah Fallen, Clementine Mayweather, Oliver Johnson et Tommy Reese. Je veux aussi que toute la famille connue de ces personnes nommées soit rassemblée et placée dans un endroit sûr avec la sécurité et la surveillance 24 heures sur 24. Tous les associés connus devraient également être gardés sous surveillance constante, mais je n'exige pas qu'ils soient enlevés de chez eux pour l'instant. Faites en sorte que ça arrive. Elle se tourna et se dirigea vers Drax, regardant Foreman Jo'ones dans son état désolé. Merci d'avoir rendu le Foreman si rapidement Drax. S'assurer qu'il est en sécurité et incapable de bouger, mais le rendre confortable au moins. Je vois que vous avez pris votre travail au sérieux, mais vous avez fait un mauvais travail en vous assurant que sa peau serait en bon état pour être utilisée pour mon sac. Je vous donne un B- pour cet ordre. » Elle a patté son avant-bras blindé géant et s'est accroupie pour regarder le visage de Jo'ones. Essayez d'être reconnaissant pour votre deuxième chance. Je ne les donne pas à la légère.Elle n'était pas tout à fait sûre qu'il pouvait même l'entendre mais c'était plus pour le spectacle de toute façon. Ruth s'est levée et a lissé les plis de sa robe. Elle a regardé autour de la pièce et a mis ses lèvres dans la pensée. Sa main droite picotait, il y avait apparemment des sevrages de gifles.

Name: Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento Nickname/Alias: Ruth, ThinkTank, Lady Regional, RM Race: Iki'lek Age: I’ve lived more years than you could possibly ever count, maggot. Ethnicity: Iki'lek Hybrid Gender: Gender is such a primitive thing, but I do have a fondness for the feminine attire your world has. So let’s go with female, for now. Appearance: Ruth has two main appearances that you will see. Her public face is one that you want to give attention to yet makes you feel the need to divert your gaze at the same time as it draws you in. She opts for pale skin, sprinkled with freckles over its entirety. Her body stretches out to a modest 5’8” without the enhancements of high heels. (“These spectacular extensions for your lower appendages are absolutely marvellous!”) Her body type is that of womanly but well taken care of. When you can have any human body that you choose, why wouldn’t you give yourself what you feel is the most desirable body available? Her eyes are generally a dark hazel shade with a very prominent black halo around the iris. Her golden, copper brown hair reaches just below her shoulders and is generally styled in some manner befitting those in the Business profession on Earth. She is a fan of feminine make-up products and has become very proficient in applying it to her face and nails. She has a mass array of different colours that suit her preferred skin tone and hair colour. The second, and most natural, of Ruth’s appearances is not a common sight. Her race has skin that is silvery grey in colour that has a shimmering light to it. Her torso closely resembles that of a human in the sense that it holds the appendages and head together and contains almost all the vital organs. There are not just four appendages, there are fourteen. She has four arms, two at the same area as human arms and then a secondary pair sitting beneath those, protruding from the torso sides. The arms are very similar to human arms but are slightly longer, and there are six fingers on each hand with a thumb making it seven total. He does not have legs or feet, instead she has ten tendrils (see what I did there? I’m so funny…) much like an octopus or squid would have but these are full of muscle and allow her to move at high speeds and very erratically. Her head is slightly more difficult to describe. If you imagine a generic Martian to a human you think of a bulbous upper head, longer chin area and giant, black, and bulbous eyes that are almost as big as the entire head. Well the bulbous upper half is similar to what Iki’lek heads look like. It reaches further out to the back of the cranium though, but not by much. The lower face is longer and more drawn out than a human but not quite as much as a Martian face. Both halves of the race have no nose, instead they have slits much like a snake would. The Brawn half have a large, gaping maw that allows them to bite their targets and to yell out of. The Brain half have no mouth as they communicate telepathically. For Ruth, as she is a hybrid, does not look quite like the two single halves of the Iki’lek race. The Brawn half have smaller, more protruding eyes that face forward and have near tunnel vision while the Brain half have larger and less centralised eyes that rest closer to the sides of the skull to allow them to have a far wider range of vision. Ruth, however, has larger bulbous eyes that are slightly to the sides while still allowing her to see forward only if she so wishes thanks to her secondary set of eyelids which she can use as blinders. Her eyes aren’t black however, they are a deep, dark purple colour and her mouth is not quite as large as her Brawny brethren. She could bite onto you but probably wouldn’t be able to swallow your entire head like they could. The final noteworthy marking of her alien appearance is that of the markings across her entire body. Her head, face, neck and spinal cord (at least what you can see of it) have sky blue markings, like that of a calligraphy pen being dragged across a piece of paper to create weaving lines that crossover and connect like a fluid tapestry. The rest of her body that you could see (basically just her arms at this point) are covered in disjointed and jagged looking maroon coloured markings. They are erratic and seem to have no pattern to them at all. Both of these markings look almost as though they are not actually on the skin, almost like they are floating on the surface of water and are in constant motion. This race has no hair on their body and, their tendrils stretched out fully, stand at around 6’5” in length from head to… toe? Clothing: When in human form, Ruth can be found in a variety of business attire. Be it knee length pencil skirts with fitted blouses and a blazer, or perhaps she felt summery and is merely wearing an A-line skirt with a short sleeved gypsy top with a light jacket? She wears a large variety of clothing as she is so in love with it. She can also be seen in dresses, trousers, suits, shorts; basically everything at one point or another. She also will always be in high heels. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. She will be wearing them even when she’s kicking your ass. When she is not in her human form, Ruth’s alien body is covered in an extremely durable, high density but lightweight battle suit. It covers her entire torso and chest area but leaves her arms exposed from the shoulder areas down. Her tendrils are entirely covered and the material has strong grippers within the material that allow her to walk on any solid surface. Her hands, all four of them, wear different gloves with varying abilities which will be outlined later. The material is a light silvery grey shimmering material that closely resembles the natural skin tone so it almost looks as if she is wearing nothing and that her markings stop at her shoulders and neck area. Personality: Ruth is a very, very, very complex individual who is, technically, not actually an individual. Her core personality is strong, cool-headed, independent, manipulative, coercive, quick thinking, highly frickin' intelligent, tactical, charismatic and determined. She is one force of a woman and if you should find yourself in her path? Be prepared to be knocked the hell down and flattened beneath her immense force of presence. She is not a person to be trifled with and she has the capability to make your life, quite literally, a living hell should she deem it productive for her needs and wants. This is the Brainy variant that you will most commonly hear about when people talk about the Regional Manager. However, there is more than meets the eye with Ruth and it is because of this special trait of hers that she keeps her true face away from the public. She prefers to do her dealings with people from a distance but when left with no other alternative, she will get her hands dirty. This is where the rest of Ruth’s mind comes out to play. She suffers from having a divided mind and as such she has a second personality that brings out the brawn in our villainous Regional Manager. This side of her has the ability to have a very murderous streak and I do mean that literally. If you threaten her or really push her to the brink of her patience and piss her off? Say hello to the afterlife or whatever the hell it is you believe in because you can be fairly certain you will never see this world again. (Unless the glorious leader GM decides that you get to live. Spoil sport.) It is an emotionally unstable personality that can sometimes find it difficult to be reasonable. When in this state of mind, Ruth is very one track minded in the sense that she wishes to destroy you in every single way imaginable and possible. She will make you suffer ten times over and then have you begging for your death. Likes: Feminine Attire Books Stationary Crushing her enemies beneath her feet Getting her own way Slapping people across the face (“How you humans manage to stop yourselves from doing it more often is beyond me!”) Breaking bones Winning arguments Dislikes: Not getting her own way Crushing her enemies between her fingers Ruined books People stealing her stationary Going more than an hour without slapping someone across the face Getting blood on her designer clothing Power Rangers Cats Fears: Losing her status Failing to reach her aspiration Having her mind altered unwillingly Quirks: She clicks her tongue at her subordinates in moments of impatience, her fingers often drum on any hard surface when she is waiting, her eyes narrow when she is judging someone/something and she takes a long, deep breath when she is about to go all Iki’lek on your backside. History: Ruth’s race is one of the dozens of alien species that are part of the conglomerate known as Galatec. It was after Galatec began spreading themselves into dozens of planets that the Iki’lek’s truly realised they were split so purely down the middle in terms of what they can do. So the Brains began to work on finding a way to create the perfect Iki’lek. They used whatever resources became available to them as Galatec spread throughout the galaxy to create the perfect hybrid of the two halves of their race. Ruth was not the first iteration of this hybrid however. Oooh no no no, she was definitely not the first. She was the 42nd attempt and she was a complete accident, at least according to the scientists that created her. That was a long, long time ago so the specifics of it have all been compartmentalised in her mind and isn’t something she likes to dwell on too much. The experiments at that time of her life were hard and unforgiving but they allowed her to discover the powers and abilities that she has now. She was only reluctantly let go by the Iki’lek scientists when they were forced to explain what they were working on to the other alien species that also made up Galatec. It was when she was discovered that Galatec chose to put her through various training regimens to master control over her excessive strengths and courses for business and management due to her increased intelligence. During her rigorous physical training and exhausting mental training it was discovered that Ruth had a very split personality. She was two entirely different people depending on what she was focusing on at the time. This could become a problem for Ruth if she ever completely loses control over herself. It was a stressful time for her as she worked to become the “woman” that she is now. It was during high stress levels and the will to escape the constant work and training that Ruth discovered her ability to shapeshift. She wanted to be someone else and to get away without someone chasing after her. It took her some getting used to but she soon figured she could make herself look like anyone and anything so long as she focused on it in her mind firmly enough and essentially willed herself to be them. She took this opportunity to show Galatec she was useful for more than just her mind and muscles. They began using her to help settle new planets into their phase of “life”. As she could make herself look like one of the home planet species they figured it would be more appealing to hear from a “local” to how wonderful Galatec could be! Galatec gave her the regional management position on New Earth the moment that they set foot on it. She has been there since the beginning and has been working hard to make everything run as smoothly as possible for Galatec. Talents: Talking, feats if brute strength, crushing things, screwing with people’s minds via telepathy, hard worker, doesn’t give in easily, she doesn’t know when to quit in a fight. Hindrances: Dealing with animals, running when she’s not wearing heels in human form, unable to swim, cannot deal with seriously high pitched noises. Powers: Shapeshifting – As far as she knows, she is the only Iki’lek hybrid in existence so she is unsure if this shapeshifting ability is due to her hybrid nature or because of the accident that caused her creation. She can change her entire appearance to anything that she wishes on an organic level but she cannot impersonate an existing person. Her appearances are always an amalgamation of features she has seen on various people/images etc. Pain Inducement – Can induce pain, psychic torture through a mental link from about 10 feet away and the pain is much stronger when she is touching you. Force-Field Generation – Can create telekinetic barriers to block various power attacks and physical weapons. (I won’t abuse this and will always let the GM decide whether or not the barrier does/can block attacks etc.) Telepathy – Is able to read the minds of those around herself. She finds it easier to read the minds of those she has physical contact with but can read minds fairly well within the same room, however she is not limited to just this distance. She can read minds up to a 20 feet radius but the further the subject is to the edges of her zone, the less she can read clearly. Psychometry – The ability to read the past of a non-sentient object through touch. She can see the past 24 hours of an object. Can get a sense for who has touched/used/been around various items/rooms. Brute Strength – Can lift 20x her own weight Telekinesis – Control objects with one's mind. Cannot move anything larger than a car door. Equipment: Power Gloves – Four that look identical but each have their own powers. (They’re pretty damn basic weapons in the grander scheme of things. But considering the powers she has, I didn’t want to go OTT.) Heat Glove – Generates a high temperature on impact with a surface/person. Cold Glove – Generates a low temperature on impact with a surface/person. Vibro Glove – Causes vibrations on impact with a surface/person. Smoke Glove – Allows a smoke cloud to be generated when a small button is pressed. Otherwise it is just an armoured glove that hits a tiny bit harder than a plain old fist. Quotes: “Maggot.” “Take that filth out of my sight before I crush you.” “Watch. My. Lips.” Theme Song: This. :) Aspiration: Complete and utter domination of everything. The setting sun beamed into the executive office space through the opened glass balcony doors. Floor to roof windows matched the doors and made the entire wall seem as though it weren’t even there. A large leather office chair sat at a magnificent mahogany desk. The chair was facing out towards the balcony that was situated right behind it. A small, balding and fairly plump human male was standing in front of the desk, his hands wringing a very sweaty handkerchief out onto his highly polished black shoes. ”I-I… I can only apo-apolo-apologise L-l-lady Re-regional…” The man stumbled over his words as they tumbled from his mouth. The sound of drumming nails on leather came from the office chair that echoed around the now deathly silent room. The chair silently swivelled around to expose its occupant. The drumming abruptly stopped. Ruthalia Morphento, Regional Manager of Galatec on New Earth, sat upon her throne and exuded importance without making a motion or a sound. Her hair was bundled upon her head in a sleek bun that made her face look more severe than usual. Her cherry red lips were pursed with irritation and her brow may not have showed a single frown line but there was most definitely a scowl heading towards the poor man before her. “Apologies are for the pathetic. Are you one of the pathetic, Mr Grant? Don’t answer that.” Mr Grant gulped back his answer, his mouth hanging open until the moment that Ruth swiftly stood from her chair and began to walk around her desk. Her Jimmy Choo’s clicked on the marble flooring with each step until she stopped before the trembling form that was Mr Grant. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? Come, let us stand on the balcony.” She did not wait for a response before she clicked her way out of the office. The balcony was rimmed with waist high, black coloured, steel edged, frosted glass fencing. The sun was low enough that the shadows of the other high rise buildings and skyscrapers were now casting shadows across the building. Mr Grant hurried behind Ruth and huffed as he reached the fence. He swallowed hard and saw how high from the ground they currently were, 55 stories from the ground. “Let me explain what is going to happen, Mr Grant.” Hands clasped in front of Ruth as she rested them on the fence. She glanced to her right, watching Mr Grant as he puffed and panted. “You are going to pay for the mistakes you have made. You are going to thank me for this outcome and be grateful that worse didn’t happen to you.” Her entire body turned towards Mr Grant and a very sweet, unsettling smile spread across her face. ”Thank you for making this decision so easy to make, Mr Grant. I wish you all the best.” Ruth’s right hand sprung forward and grabbed Mr Grant by the neck. He coughed and spluttered, his hands grasping at her delicate looking arm. His face began to turn red when she lifted him from the ground, his stubby legs dangled as she rose his body higher than the topmost edge of the balcony edging. ”Do enjoy your complimentary skydiving lesson, Mr Grant. Consider it part of your severance package.” One fluid swing of her arm and Mr Grant was no longer on the 55th floor. An echoing yell of despair and utter terror rang out and lessened to the smallest whisper before long. Ruth made her way back into her office, closing the glass doors behind herself before settling behind her desk once more. A small yawn left her lips before she looked towards the door of her office. “Please send in my 4 o’clock.” Her thought rang out and the buzzer to her door rang out before the door opened to allow her next appointment to enter. A nervous, bespectacled woman shuffled in and looked around the room. There were no other exits from this office and the fear that spread over the woman’s face made Ruth’s face erupt into an ecstatic smile. “Please take a seat, Mrs Grant.”

John a permis à tout le monde de parler son esprit. Il n'en couperait aucun, même si les attitudes de Jonas et de Clémentine nuissaient à l'humeur générale qu'il avait besoin de mettre en place. Après tout, il s'agissait de gagner leur confiance. En plus de cela, Jonah a fait quelques arguments légitimes. Malheureusement, les circonstances n'étaient pas les meilleures, mais si elles l'étaient, cela n'aurait pas été nécessaire pour commencer. Comme le dernier des quatre a accepté de prendre part, John s'est de nouveau exprimé. "Je ne peux pas exprimer assez ma gratitude. Je sais que certains d'entre vous ne sont pas d'accord pour les mêmes raisons, mais avec suffisamment de temps, je pense que vous allez devenir le rôle. Vous avez mon... Excuses les plus profondes et les plus sincères pour vous avoir enlevé. En regardant en arrière, les moyens par lesquels nous vous avons amené ici sont très susceptibles d'éveiller une grande suspicion. Connaissant Ruthalia, cela risque aussi de mettre votre famille en danger, c'est pourquoi j'ai pris les précautions nécessaires. » L'extraterrestre en peau humaine a saisi un disque d'ordinateur d'une petite pile, cinq pour être exact, et les a remis à la jeunesse avant lui. Le dernier qu'il a placé à l'intérieur d'un ordinateur, et l'écran de vue a saigné à la vie. Cette fois, ils regardaient une vidéo du même extraterrestre que John prétendait être lui. Une peau rouge pâle a été tirée à travers un visage semblable à celui d'un crâne. Le costume qu'il portait était, cependant, complètement identique à celui de John dans tous les sens moins la taille. Il parlait alors d'une voix profonde et gravillonnée. "Tu me connais. Mon nom est Jonimunum Jorgenschmidtl. Mon laboratoire a explosé le 3 août dernier et vous m'avez présumé mort, comme je le voulais. La vérité, c'est que je n'en pouvais plus. Galatec est corrompu à son cœur et doit être démantelé. Je suis singulièrement responsable de la formation de la Division Alpha. Le garçon sur lequel vous avez trouvé ce disque, Michael Sonnen, a été enlevé par moi et moi seuls pour rejoindre ma bande de combattants de la liberté. Il a refusé. Contrairement à vous, je ne nuit pas aux gens pour avoir utilisé leur liberté de choix. Il a décidé de ne pas se joindre à moi, mais il n'est pas l'un de vos soldats, donc aucun mal ne lui est arrivé. C'est ce que vous appelez le principe. Il ne sait rien de mes opérations et a été amené à un endroit non divulgué. Interrogez-le si vous voulez, vos effets de reconditionnement s'assureront qu'il est complètement coopératif. Où allons-nous d'ici? C'est à vous de le faire." La vidéo s'est arrêtée là, et John l'a éjectée. Il s'est retourné vers le groupe et s'est adressé à eux une fois de plus. "Ils me connaissent. Ils savent que je ne ferais de mal à personne que je n'ai pas considéré comme mon ennemi. Chacun d'entre vous détient maintenant un message personnalisé sur vous qui devrait protéger sa famille et ses amis. Si vous décidez de partir, c'est à votre disposition. Si vous restez, alors je vous recommande de continuer à en faire usage pour le bien de vos proches. » John marcha alors vers une collection d'appareils cachés dans des contenants de protection, assis sur un seul piédestal. Doucement, presque vénéré, il les tira de leur lieu de repos et s'approcha des jeunes adultes. Un par un, il ouvrit les conteneurs révélant d'étranges dispositifs liés au poignet, chacun d'une couleur différente et avec un bijou prismatique clair intégré au milieu. D'une main, il présenta ces dispositifs à chacun d'eux. D'abord Tommy, qui a reçu le bleu. Puis Clementine a été donnée jaune. Oliver reçut ensuite le sien, vert. Et enfin, Jonas a reçu un dispositif violet-violet. "Ce sont les morphères des photons. Une fois qu'ils sont complètement sécurisés à votre bras, tenez-les dehors et appelez, « Strike Force, Flash Forward! » Cela déclenchera la séquence de morphage." L'ascenseur de fret s'est arrêté et les vieilles portes rouillées se sont ouvertes pour révéler le chemin que Michael avait pris ici. Ça avait l'air différent de revenir dans l'autre sens, mais c'était peut-être juste son nouveau regard. Ce qu'il était prêt à faire, sur le point de faire, changerait définitivement la façon dont un homme regarde les choses. Ses pensées ont été interrompues lorsque la femme a avancé, puis se sont tournées vers les rebelles qui étaient arrivés avec eux. "Aujourd'hui, nous paralysons la main de Galatec sur nous! Aujourd'hui, nous libérons autant que nous le pouvons, et tuons tous les satanés githkins que nos armes permettront! Aujourd'hui c'est le jour où Galatec réalise que l'humanité n'est pas des rats pour être forcée à travers le labyrinthe! Aujourd'hui, nous nous rétractons! CHARGE!" Des cris de bataille retentissaient dans toutes les mines, sans doute en écho pendant au moins quelques kilomètres comme tant de gens l'applaudissaient à la fois. Les rebelles du ragtag ont coulé dans les mines, poussant Michael avec eux, qu'il veuille ou non y aller. Alors qu'il a fallu plusieurs minutes, il ne semblait que quelques instants avant que les bruits de bataille puissent être entendus et vus tout autour. Les rebelles ont attaqué avec des haches, des armes à feu anciennes, des chauves-souris de base-ball, et les quelques blasters laser qu'ils pouvaient mettre en place. Pendant ce temps, le githkine s'est battu férocement avec une force brute pure, des nombres supérieurs, et des armes avancées de leur propre. Red Rock Mining Facility était devenu une zone de guerre. La rébellion a commencé. C'est là que Jean repart, pontificant et vocifiant. C'était son boulot. Son rôle dans tout ça. Heureusement, Samara était à son ordinateur pour surveiller les choses, parce que quelque chose de majeur venait d'arriver. Tout comme John a commencé à distribuer les morphères, ses détecteurs de proximité se sont éteints comme des vagues folles et plusieurs dizaines de personnes ont commencé à émerger des parties les plus profondes et les plus anciennes de la mine. Les caméras de sécurité ne dépeignaient plus une zone de travail dure et pacifique. Maintenant, c'était le chaos et le combat. De plus, elle a enfin une perle sur Michael Sonnen. Il émergeait dans la chambre d'extraction centrale et si ce qu'elle voyait sur ces caméras était une indication qu'il était avec les forces rebelles et qu'il avait utilisé un vieux pistolet à combustion. L'assistant masculin a tremblé au toucher de Ruth. On n'avait pas besoin d'être télépathe pour savoir qu'il trouvait l'interaction plutôt flippante et inconfortable. Cela n'a guère facilité l'appréhension qu'il avait développée pour elle. Pendant ce temps, Foreman Jo'ones s'est montré toujours assez combattant, et assez débrouillard, malgré avoir été si battu. « J'apprécie, madame, » lui a-t-il fait gronder de l'étrange position qu'il portait. Puis, se battant à travers la douleur de ses deux bras cassés, il a atteint son membre gauche et l'a saisi juste sous l'épaule. Avec une grande bouffée et le rassemblement de toute sa force Jo'ones a arraché son propre bras gauche et l'a déposé sur le sol. Curieusement, aucun sang ne s'est versé de cette blessure. Un moment plus tard cependant, et son bras gauche était déjà en train de croître un remplacement. En moins de temps qu'il aurait fallu pour manger un beignet, il avait grandi un bras gauche entièrement fonctionnel. Avec beaucoup moins de difficulté, il a fait de même avec son bras droit cassé, le déchirant avec son nouveau bon membre, et le laissant grandir. « Si vous voulez un nouveau sac à main madame, je pense que je peux vous donner les matériaux », a-t-il commenté. Ce n'était pas du sarcasme, et il n'avait pas d'insolence dans sa voix. Même une sonde d'esprit rapide dirait à Ruth qu'il était tout à fait sincère. Ailleurs, un groupe de githkine, dirigé par l'élite KT-25, accostait la directrice de comptabilité Shplorn à sa porte de dortoir. La femme extraterrestre a ouvert la porte, puis a demandé, "Le directeur régional veut me voir? Personnellement? Alors je ferais mieux d'enfiler mon bon costume. S'il vous plaît, donnez-moi un moment, des daries." À cet instant, Ruth pouvait ressentir une autre présence dans l'esprit de la ganterie. Quelqu'un d'autre essayait de profiter du lien psychique avec lequel ils étaient conçus, mais seul un membre de haut rang de la compagnie pouvait l'utiliser. Une seule personne correspond à la facture, et une seule personne fixait KT-25 dans la fac- "Madame, Général, situation d'urgence! Tu as besoin de voir ça maintenant!" a crié à l'assistante masculine qui a trouvé Ruth si hors de propos. S'il y avait quelque chose pour éloigner sa concentration, ce serait ça. Ils ont affiché plusieurs caméras de sécurité à l'écran de divers endroits tout autour de l'installation minière, et chacun d'eux a montré quelque chose qui était tout simplement inacceptable. L'information de Ruth selon laquelle la Division Alpha attaquerait était tout à fait exacte. Des rebelles vêtus d'armures et de vêtements récupérés, maniant des armes allant d'instruments contondants à des canons jusqu'au blaster laser occasionnel, se sont évanouis depuis les profondeurs de la mine. Ils semblaient se disperser dans des vagues d'environ 2-3 douzaines, et avaient déjà travaillé leur chemin vers la chambre centrale. Selon les caméras, une équipe se dirigeait directement vers le bureau du contremaître où elle se trouvait maintenant, tandis qu'une autre se dirigeait vers les dortoirs du superviseur, et une autre équipe se battait pour se rendre à la station de véhicules. La ceinture n'a pas bougé un muscle comme Mable l'a dit. Il a à peine bougé quand elle a pris le stylo et le livre de celui-ci, et même alors seulement ce qui était absolument nécessaire pour elle de prendre les objets de celui-ci. Une fois qu'elle a ouvert les pages et a commencé à la signer, cependant, quelque chose lui a pris les yeux. Quelque chose d'étrange, et certainement inattendu d'une ganterie de toutes choses. Aujourd'hui, Red Rock tombe. À cette époque, Gajoon avait remarqué que Mable avait cessé de l'écouter (si elle avait commencé par) et avait vu la créature qui l'avait saluée à la porte. "Madame l'amour! Monsieur, euh, le gardien de la paix, euh," il a étouffé, glisser à côté d'eux deux. "Comment pouvons-nous, euh, vous aider, Mr..." il a regardé la marque sur la poitrine de la ceinture, montrant son numéro de série. "Monsieur. 18-XY?" La githkine n'a pas réagi à la présence de Gajoon. Il a seulement continué à regarder Mable, ne montrant aucune émotion. "Oh oui, nous avons vu. Tu fais un travail merveilleux!" s'est exclamé le jumeau aux cheveux blonds pendant que sa sœur hurlait. "Nous sommes quelques-uns de vos spotters. Vous savez, garder un œil sur tous les signes de minerais et de minéraux derrière votre chemin. C'est vraiment difficile de suivre le rythme de yo-" Elle a été coupée par le son d'une autre cloche, celle-ci signalant que le temps de pause était terminé. Welp, au travail!

Name: Jackson Trent Nickname/Alias: Jack, sex on a stick (imo). Race: Human Age: 25 Ethnicity: Canadian, though no one would know what that means. Gender: Male Appearance: . |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about. Clothing: Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly. Personality: Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills. Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives. Likes: The Power Rangers White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea. The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost. Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before. Protecting people The greater good Dislikes: Galatec His job Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control His parents being under Galatec’s influence Fears: Slipping back under Galatec’s control Not being able to find the Power Rangers Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents Galatec defeating the Power Rangers Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them Dying on the job Quirks: He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right? History: Freedom. That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly. Until the Power Rangers. At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”. That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth... Talents: Extremely skilled with a tomahawk Animalistic instincts & reflexes Can see multiple approaches to a problem Agile on his feet A linear understanding of science Apparently quite the singer Hindrances: His perpetual mood swings He always sees the good in people Can sometimes be quick to judge Not exactly the one to sugar coat things His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people Powers: None. Zero. Nil. Equipment: An old mining torch A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day 10 shirts 4 pairs of jeans A pair of combat boots A pair of old sneakers An old scarf A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff) 7 bottles of water A sleeping bag 9 MRE kits Quotes: “Cross your fingers.” Aspiration: To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into.

Clementine avait trouvé la compréhension que Samara cherchait, tandis qu'Oliver, d'autre part, semblait aussi laxiste à propos des choses que Tommy l'était. Elle s'est peut-être retirée pour trouver la pièce manquante à cette équipe incomplète, mais ses oreilles étaient encore perchées pour écouter ce qui se passait derrière elle. John avait continué avec sa gratitude étant pleinement exprimé, mais quand sa vidéo avait été jouée, elle avait intensifié sa recherche pour Michael. Réglage des paramètres, en mettant l'accent sur des zones plus peuplées à l'intérieur des mines, et même la solution classique d'éteindre et de remettre en marche le système radar de pénétration au sol. Rien n'avait marché. Elle était revenue dans les décors qui avaient été utilisés auparavant pour localiser les quatre autres, et elle a regardé les pulsations sonar traverser l'ensemble de l'établissement. Tout à coup, le radar avait capté de nouveaux signaux, des dizaines sur des dizaines d'entre eux, dont un au milieu était entouré d'une teinte comme les quatre derniers. Une rouge. Michael Samara murmura tranquillement avec un sourire. Alors qu'elle était sur le point de dire à John la bonne nouvelle, le moniteur avait clignoté deux fois avec un avertissement de combien de nouveaux signaux ont été captés, effaçant son sourire. Il a toujours été mis en place pour alerter John et elle-même quand ils avaient pris beaucoup de nouveaux signaux à la fois. C'était plus qu'une douzaine, il devait y en avoir au moins plusieurs douzaines, tout cela s'approchait de la chambre minière centrale. Il n'aurait pas été aussi étrange — mais encore étrange — si les signaux se déplaçaient à un rythme aussi normal que tous les autres, mais la vitesse à laquelle ils couraient vers cette chambre n'était pas typiquement celle des autres mineurs. Pourquoi cours-tu? Pas seulement lui. Ils couraient tous. Le quartier général de la force d'attaque a peut-être été à une distance sécuritaire de la zone dans laquelle les esclaves de Galatec ont creusé pendant des heures, mais ils auraient pu ressentir une sorte de perturbation sismique. Ça n'aurait pas pu être une grotte s'effondrer ou un autre danger. Les mains de Samara ont couru sur plusieurs touches en succession rapide, trouvant la caméra la plus proche de la chambre qu'ils approchaient. En choisissant le plus approprié, elle avait jeté les yeux sur un conflit brutal entre des humains armés d'armes considérablement dépassées frappant le Githkin qui surveillait les mineurs. La teinte de rouge qui entourait Michael lui avait permis de le trouver dans ce désordre. Il avait assez de sens pour se armer avant de se joindre à cette attaque. Il semble que les rebelles face à Galatec par eux-mêmes aient réussi à le trouver en premier. Ou peut-être qu'il les avait cherchés par lui-même et les avait convaincus de le laisser se battre. Ça n'a plus d'importance. "John!" Samara a crié, ciblant Michael avec le RDS sur une autre fenêtre à côté de la caméra affichant le conflit qui s'ensuivit. Il était accessible, mais le pouvoir nécessaire pour saisir les quatre premiers avait rendu impossible de l'amener ici par les mêmes moyens que les autres. Elle n'ose pas essayer comme elle est et gaspiller le pouvoir précieux qu'il lui restait. C'est devenu une mission de sauvetage. Les rebelles ont attaqué l'installation et elle n'est pas bonne! Les Githkins avaient les armes et les nombres pour faire tomber cette attaque si leurs forces n'étaient pas renforcées. Michael, sans le morphère qu'ils avaient fixé pour lui, était aussi bon que capturé ou mort sans intervention immédiate. Samara commençait à transpirer une fois de plus, son cœur s'empare de la peur de perdre Michael comme ça. En mesurant rapidement la puissance restante qu'ils avaient laissée, elle a conclu qu'il restait juste assez pour envoyer un petit objet de taille morphère. Nous n'avons pas assez de puissance avec notre unité de traitement actuelle dans le RDS pour nous amener Red. Il est aussi bon que mort ou aussi bon que capturé – à moins que vous quatre y arriviez, c'est-à-dire! Samara n'a pas encore eu le temps d'avoir un contact visuel. Ses doigts ont frappé les clés de la console avant elle. L'une des portes en métal, la plus proche du conflit dans la chambre minière centrale, s'était ouverte à proximité. Il allait sans dire que sans le pouvoir de les transporter rapidement dans l'action, ils auraient besoin de courir là à pied. Tandis que cela se passait, elle avait travaillé à trouver les meilleurs points d'entrée pour transporter Michael... Photon Morpher quand sa sécurité était garantie, et seulement quand il l'était. John avait traversé beaucoup de choses pour les sécuriser, et donc elle ne pouvait pas risquer Michael de recevoir cet appareil seulement pour ne pas comprendre son but ou ce qu'il pouvait faire pour lui. La foi a dû être placée à Clémentine, Tommy, Oliver et Jonah pour non seulement protéger Michael, mais le guider dans le processus. Elle est retournée à la caméra se concentrant sur la bataille et a ouvert les onglets des caméras à différents angles. La caméra dans la meilleure position pour suivre Michael était la plus grande. Michael Sonnen est notre Ranger Rouge choisi, et il va être votre allié. De magnifiques yeux de noisette, de coupe basse, de gros sourcils, de cicatrices distinctes par le nez et l'œil droit – le flux vidéo est une bonne référence, aussi. » Il l'a frappé que la description de Michael n'était pas tout à fait nécessaire, comme elle l'avait déjà mis comme la plus grande fenêtre sur son grand moniteur. Elle pensait beaucoup trop vite pour s'en soucier. Enfin, elle avait quitté la console, se retournant et dardant pour le morphère restant que John avait laissé seul. Prenant le morphère de Michael en main, elle avait déménagé pour le placer sur la plate-forme que les autres étaient arrivés et le poser avec soin, toujours dans son boîtier de protection. Il cherchera une fenêtre pour lui donner ça, mais l'un de vous devra l'amener à la vitesse, a-t-elle dit. Samara a recommencé vers son ordinateur, les mains retournant sur les consoles. Le morphère sur la plate-forme était maintenant ciblé par le RDS. Dis-lui que nous sommes désolés qu'on ne l'ait pas eu plus tôt. Vous êtes sa seule chance en ce moment. Pas de pression! Presque inhalé, Samara se retourna et retourna vers Jean, plaçant une main sur son épaule. Nouvelle unité de traitement—maintenant. Dis-moi que tu as quelque chose dans ta manche... Les quatre l'avaient attrapée, l'arrêtant dans ses traces verbales. Ils étaient toujours là. Pourquoi étaient-ils encore là? C'est maintenant ou jamais, les gars. Sauvez Michael, sauvez tout ce que vous pouvez! » Elle a dit d'urgence. "Flash vers l'avant!"

Samara Morgan Name - Samara Morgan Nickname/Alias - N/A Race - Human Age - 23 Ethnicity - African-American Gender - Female Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis. Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend. In The Mind Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends. She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest. However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood. Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right. Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously. Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames. Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her. Where They’ve Been History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background. One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed. It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold. It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking. The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way. Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising. Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture. Powers - N/A Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone. Bonus Round Quotes - No. Theme Song - Never. Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary.

Michael Sonnen Les vieilles portes gémissaient ouvertes et avant lui était un chemin blasé mais extraterrestre. Où autrefois c'était un mystère inconnu, maintenant c'était un cauchemar, sombre, porte de sa mort. Il pouvait sentir sa peur craquer les murs qui l'entouraient dans son cœur, la minute de fissures qui marquait la fin s'il ne pouvait pas régner dedans. Il a adouci les cris dans ses bras. Une fois que la femme a commencé son discours, comme beaucoup de rebelles autour de lui, il a cherché de l'espoir dans ses paroles. Contrairement à eux, il n'en a trouvé aucun. Une partie de lui savait que la mort de Courtney le conduirait à la sienne, que la culpabilité qu'il sentait était si forte qu'elle l'entraînerait dans l'emprise spectrale de Galatec. Michael baissa la tête à l'absentéisme, un sourire faible tira ses lèvres. On va mourir d'une façon ou d'une autre. Ils pensent qu'ils peuvent lancer une petite attaque sur l'un des premiers sites miniers de Galatec et gagner... Il baissa bientôt, un sourire vaincu caché sur son visage. Ça me rappelle un ancien dicton que mon père a utilisé pour citer ; comment ça se passe? Oh oui... "Comme des agneaux à l'abattage." Pourtant, il s'était volontairement séparé du troupeau des agneaux. Il n'avait aucun regret à ce sujet quand il y pensait vraiment, seulement une ambition ardente de se débarrasser de son contentement impitoyable. Une fois que les cris des rebelles ont pris racine dans les tunnels, Michael s'est précipité avec eux. Il a vu les restes dispersés de l'équipement qu'il avait apporté avec lui, il a soulevé une question en lui qu'il avait stupidement oublié. Il s'est arrêté au milieu du chaos, pas trop profond, mais assez près pour ressentir la chaleur des flammes qu'ils essayaient de faire avec la querelle rebelle. Le bruit de munitions high-tech s'est étourdi autour de lui, des coups forts ont menacé de lui blesser les oreilles. Il a trouvé une couverture sous la forme d'un wagon en métal. Il s'empare de la matière sur sa poitrine et apaise son cœur qui gronde maintenant. "C'est le vrai visage de Galatec!" Il s'est emparé d'un calme agité. Quand il a remarqué un Githkin autour de la couverture de son wagon, il a levé l'ancien bras qui lui avait été donné et a appuyé sur la gâchette avec une quantité inhabituelle de puissance dans l'action. Voyons si tu meurs comme nous. Avec des sourires sur vos visages.

Name: Michael Sonnen. Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother). Race: Human. Age: 20. Ethnicity: African American. Gender: Male. Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye. Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In The Mind Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious. Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions. Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal. Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different. Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs. Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where They’ve Been History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think, This isn't right... Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought. Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off. His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered. "Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-" It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself. Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often. Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it? Powers: None. Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bonus Round Quotes: "We fight for today!" Theme Song: Throne Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Red Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung. Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently. Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets. Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes. Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty. "Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you." She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that. By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic. His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on. Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening. Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns. "Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself.

avec: Drax, Foreman Jo'ones, XJ-47, les assistants, Githkins Ce que Foreman Joaones avait décidé de faire à lui-même était à la fois dégoûtant et impressionnant. Peut-être qu'elle avait été un peu trop émotive ce matin. Bien que le Foreman avait été ingrat peut-être cette offrande de ses membres pour son sac à main serait un moyen de commencer avec une ardoise --clean. La vraie réponse l'avait surprise, mais elle était heureuse. Son instinct avait été correct. Celui-ci serait utile peut-être pas comme elle l'avait prévu à l'origine. Merci pour votre offre, Foreman Joones. J'espère que tu as appris ta leçon et que tu seras plus reconnaissant envers Galatec pour tout ce que nous t'avons fourni. » Elle lui a donné un clin d'œil et un sourire fulgurant, espérant que le battement de Drax n'aurait pas chassé leur interaction sans voix ce matin de son esprit. Elle n'avait aucun doute qu'il se souviendrait qu'elle avait ordonné sa mort, mais j'espère qu'il se souviendrait de ce qu'il pensait que cela aurait causé son destin. Elle a supervisé l'interaction entre KT-25 et Shplorn mais la merde proverbiale a frappé le fan proverbial. Elle pouvait sentir l'autre présence et elle savait qu'elle devait faire capturer Shplorn et en sa présence, mais elle ne pouvait pas coordonner avec les attaques et garder le contrôle sur le rassemblement de Githkin Shplorn. Elle a laissé sa connexion s'affranchir de tout le Githkin sauf KT-25. Résistez-la avec tout ce que vous avez, je vous donne la permission de refuser ses demandes. Bats-toi autant que tu peux et amène-la-moi." Elle a laissé le lien aller et s'est tournée vers Drax. Général Drax! Va directement dans les quartiers privés du directeur comptable Shplorn et amène-la-moi tout de suite. Je n'accepterai pas l'échec comme option. Amène-la-moi maintenant.Ses yeux se rétrécissent et ses doigts s'ébranlent alors qu'elle les batte sur ses cuisses. Sa patience était partie. Complètement et complètement parti. Elle se tourna vers les deux assistants et se prosterna. Faites envoyer les ordres dont j'ai besoin maintenant. J'ai besoin que ces membres de la famille soient rassemblés et que cette surveillance soit mise en place il y a quinze minutes. Elle se détourna des assistants et regarda Foreman Joones. Soldat, il est temps de vous montrer. Je vous demande d'aller à la gare routière et de veiller à ce que ces rebelles n'aient accès à aucun des véhicules. Je m'occuperai du groupe qui se dirige vers ce bureau. » Ruth regarda alors l'Elite Githkine qui avait donné son rapport à ses moments précédents. XJ-47, allez avec Foreman Joaones et assurez-vous qu'il est armé et blindé autant que nous le pouvons dans le temps donné. Ne les laissez pas prendre aucun des véhicules. Prenez autant de Githkin que vous avez besoin que vous trouvez le long du chemin. Elle n'était pas sur le point de laisser ces argots profiter du chaos. Son esprit resterait concentré et une fois qu'elle aurait traité le groupe en direction de son emplacement, elle s'occuperait de Shplorn. C'est si Drax n'a pas échoué dans son objectif. Elle s'est tournée une dernière fois vers Drax et a souri. Se sentir libre de casser à travers les murs et les planchers lorsque nécessaire pour arriver à Shplorn. Amène-la ici quand tu l'auras et défends cette position seulement une fois que tu l'auras trouvée. Allez! Elle a congédié son général et envoyé le reste d'entre eux pour faire son appel d'offres. Ses mains se bousculèrent à nouveau alors qu'elle faisait son chemin pour se tenir entre les deux assistants. Ses mains se levèrent et les giflèrent tous les deux à l'arrière de la tête, non pas aussi férocement qu'elle le ferait normalement, mais assez pour garder sa saumure jusqu'à ce que le groupe rebelle trouve son chemin ici. Elle ne voulait pas perdre de vue juste parce qu'elle souffrait de retraits; ce serait idiot. Elle s'est détournée de lui après les avoir frappés et a fait son chemin pour s'asseoir derrière le bureau de Foreman Joyones, le contrôleur de l'écran de visionnement dans sa main alors qu'elle attendait patiemment, avec la colère claire sur son visage. Elle a croisé les jambes et a laissé un rebondir confortablement de haut en bas, ses yeux restant sur l'écran regardant les forces rebelles. Son lien mental s'est étendu à tous les Githkin qui pouvaient entendre. Les rebelles attaquent. Rassemblez vos armes et vos armures et débarrassez-les. La station de véhicules, les quartiers du superviseur et la chambre centrale sont de la plus haute importance. L'échec n'est pas une option. Conservez une petite garde sur tous les humains que je vous ai fait rassembler, les rebelles sont la principale priorité pour l'instant, sauf si je vous ai dit le contraire. Ça allait être une longue journée.

Name: Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento Nickname/Alias: Ruth, ThinkTank, Lady Regional, RM Race: Iki'lek Age: I’ve lived more years than you could possibly ever count, maggot. Ethnicity: Iki'lek Hybrid Gender: Gender is such a primitive thing, but I do have a fondness for the feminine attire your world has. So let’s go with female, for now. Appearance: Ruth has two main appearances that you will see. Her public face is one that you want to give attention to yet makes you feel the need to divert your gaze at the same time as it draws you in. She opts for pale skin, sprinkled with freckles over its entirety. Her body stretches out to a modest 5’8” without the enhancements of high heels. (“These spectacular extensions for your lower appendages are absolutely marvellous!”) Her body type is that of womanly but well taken care of. When you can have any human body that you choose, why wouldn’t you give yourself what you feel is the most desirable body available? Her eyes are generally a dark hazel shade with a very prominent black halo around the iris. Her golden, copper brown hair reaches just below her shoulders and is generally styled in some manner befitting those in the Business profession on Earth. She is a fan of feminine make-up products and has become very proficient in applying it to her face and nails. She has a mass array of different colours that suit her preferred skin tone and hair colour. The second, and most natural, of Ruth’s appearances is not a common sight. Her race has skin that is silvery grey in colour that has a shimmering light to it. Her torso closely resembles that of a human in the sense that it holds the appendages and head together and contains almost all the vital organs. There are not just four appendages, there are fourteen. She has four arms, two at the same area as human arms and then a secondary pair sitting beneath those, protruding from the torso sides. The arms are very similar to human arms but are slightly longer, and there are six fingers on each hand with a thumb making it seven total. He does not have legs or feet, instead she has ten tendrils (see what I did there? I’m so funny…) much like an octopus or squid would have but these are full of muscle and allow her to move at high speeds and very erratically. Her head is slightly more difficult to describe. If you imagine a generic Martian to a human you think of a bulbous upper head, longer chin area and giant, black, and bulbous eyes that are almost as big as the entire head. Well the bulbous upper half is similar to what Iki’lek heads look like. It reaches further out to the back of the cranium though, but not by much. The lower face is longer and more drawn out than a human but not quite as much as a Martian face. Both halves of the race have no nose, instead they have slits much like a snake would. The Brawn half have a large, gaping maw that allows them to bite their targets and to yell out of. The Brain half have no mouth as they communicate telepathically. For Ruth, as she is a hybrid, does not look quite like the two single halves of the Iki’lek race. The Brawn half have smaller, more protruding eyes that face forward and have near tunnel vision while the Brain half have larger and less centralised eyes that rest closer to the sides of the skull to allow them to have a far wider range of vision. Ruth, however, has larger bulbous eyes that are slightly to the sides while still allowing her to see forward only if she so wishes thanks to her secondary set of eyelids which she can use as blinders. Her eyes aren’t black however, they are a deep, dark purple colour and her mouth is not quite as large as her Brawny brethren. She could bite onto you but probably wouldn’t be able to swallow your entire head like they could. The final noteworthy marking of her alien appearance is that of the markings across her entire body. Her head, face, neck and spinal cord (at least what you can see of it) have sky blue markings, like that of a calligraphy pen being dragged across a piece of paper to create weaving lines that crossover and connect like a fluid tapestry. The rest of her body that you could see (basically just her arms at this point) are covered in disjointed and jagged looking maroon coloured markings. They are erratic and seem to have no pattern to them at all. Both of these markings look almost as though they are not actually on the skin, almost like they are floating on the surface of water and are in constant motion. This race has no hair on their body and, their tendrils stretched out fully, stand at around 6’5” in length from head to… toe? Clothing: When in human form, Ruth can be found in a variety of business attire. Be it knee length pencil skirts with fitted blouses and a blazer, or perhaps she felt summery and is merely wearing an A-line skirt with a short sleeved gypsy top with a light jacket? She wears a large variety of clothing as she is so in love with it. She can also be seen in dresses, trousers, suits, shorts; basically everything at one point or another. She also will always be in high heels. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. She will be wearing them even when she’s kicking your ass. When she is not in her human form, Ruth’s alien body is covered in an extremely durable, high density but lightweight battle suit. It covers her entire torso and chest area but leaves her arms exposed from the shoulder areas down. Her tendrils are entirely covered and the material has strong grippers within the material that allow her to walk on any solid surface. Her hands, all four of them, wear different gloves with varying abilities which will be outlined later. The material is a light silvery grey shimmering material that closely resembles the natural skin tone so it almost looks as if she is wearing nothing and that her markings stop at her shoulders and neck area. Personality: Ruth is a very, very, very complex individual who is, technically, not actually an individual. Her core personality is strong, cool-headed, independent, manipulative, coercive, quick thinking, highly frickin' intelligent, tactical, charismatic and determined. She is one force of a woman and if you should find yourself in her path? Be prepared to be knocked the hell down and flattened beneath her immense force of presence. She is not a person to be trifled with and she has the capability to make your life, quite literally, a living hell should she deem it productive for her needs and wants. This is the Brainy variant that you will most commonly hear about when people talk about the Regional Manager. However, there is more than meets the eye with Ruth and it is because of this special trait of hers that she keeps her true face away from the public. She prefers to do her dealings with people from a distance but when left with no other alternative, she will get her hands dirty. This is where the rest of Ruth’s mind comes out to play. She suffers from having a divided mind and as such she has a second personality that brings out the brawn in our villainous Regional Manager. This side of her has the ability to have a very murderous streak and I do mean that literally. If you threaten her or really push her to the brink of her patience and piss her off? Say hello to the afterlife or whatever the hell it is you believe in because you can be fairly certain you will never see this world again. (Unless the glorious leader GM decides that you get to live. Spoil sport.) It is an emotionally unstable personality that can sometimes find it difficult to be reasonable. When in this state of mind, Ruth is very one track minded in the sense that she wishes to destroy you in every single way imaginable and possible. She will make you suffer ten times over and then have you begging for your death. Likes: Feminine Attire Books Stationary Crushing her enemies beneath her feet Getting her own way Slapping people across the face (“How you humans manage to stop yourselves from doing it more often is beyond me!”) Breaking bones Winning arguments Dislikes: Not getting her own way Crushing her enemies between her fingers Ruined books People stealing her stationary Going more than an hour without slapping someone across the face Getting blood on her designer clothing Power Rangers Cats Fears: Losing her status Failing to reach her aspiration Having her mind altered unwillingly Quirks: She clicks her tongue at her subordinates in moments of impatience, her fingers often drum on any hard surface when she is waiting, her eyes narrow when she is judging someone/something and she takes a long, deep breath when she is about to go all Iki’lek on your backside. History: Ruth’s race is one of the dozens of alien species that are part of the conglomerate known as Galatec. It was after Galatec began spreading themselves into dozens of planets that the Iki’lek’s truly realised they were split so purely down the middle in terms of what they can do. So the Brains began to work on finding a way to create the perfect Iki’lek. They used whatever resources became available to them as Galatec spread throughout the galaxy to create the perfect hybrid of the two halves of their race. Ruth was not the first iteration of this hybrid however. Oooh no no no, she was definitely not the first. She was the 42nd attempt and she was a complete accident, at least according to the scientists that created her. That was a long, long time ago so the specifics of it have all been compartmentalised in her mind and isn’t something she likes to dwell on too much. The experiments at that time of her life were hard and unforgiving but they allowed her to discover the powers and abilities that she has now. She was only reluctantly let go by the Iki’lek scientists when they were forced to explain what they were working on to the other alien species that also made up Galatec. It was when she was discovered that Galatec chose to put her through various training regimens to master control over her excessive strengths and courses for business and management due to her increased intelligence. During her rigorous physical training and exhausting mental training it was discovered that Ruth had a very split personality. She was two entirely different people depending on what she was focusing on at the time. This could become a problem for Ruth if she ever completely loses control over herself. It was a stressful time for her as she worked to become the “woman” that she is now. It was during high stress levels and the will to escape the constant work and training that Ruth discovered her ability to shapeshift. She wanted to be someone else and to get away without someone chasing after her. It took her some getting used to but she soon figured she could make herself look like anyone and anything so long as she focused on it in her mind firmly enough and essentially willed herself to be them. She took this opportunity to show Galatec she was useful for more than just her mind and muscles. They began using her to help settle new planets into their phase of “life”. As she could make herself look like one of the home planet species they figured it would be more appealing to hear from a “local” to how wonderful Galatec could be! Galatec gave her the regional management position on New Earth the moment that they set foot on it. She has been there since the beginning and has been working hard to make everything run as smoothly as possible for Galatec. Talents: Talking, feats if brute strength, crushing things, screwing with people’s minds via telepathy, hard worker, doesn’t give in easily, she doesn’t know when to quit in a fight. Hindrances: Dealing with animals, running when she’s not wearing heels in human form, unable to swim, cannot deal with seriously high pitched noises. Powers: Shapeshifting – As far as she knows, she is the only Iki’lek hybrid in existence so she is unsure if this shapeshifting ability is due to her hybrid nature or because of the accident that caused her creation. She can change her entire appearance to anything that she wishes on an organic level but she cannot impersonate an existing person. Her appearances are always an amalgamation of features she has seen on various people/images etc. Pain Inducement – Can induce pain, psychic torture through a mental link from about 10 feet away and the pain is much stronger when she is touching you. Force-Field Generation – Can create telekinetic barriers to block various power attacks and physical weapons. (I won’t abuse this and will always let the GM decide whether or not the barrier does/can block attacks etc.) Telepathy – Is able to read the minds of those around herself. She finds it easier to read the minds of those she has physical contact with but can read minds fairly well within the same room, however she is not limited to just this distance. She can read minds up to a 20 feet radius but the further the subject is to the edges of her zone, the less she can read clearly. Psychometry – The ability to read the past of a non-sentient object through touch. She can see the past 24 hours of an object. Can get a sense for who has touched/used/been around various items/rooms. Brute Strength – Can lift 20x her own weight Telekinesis – Control objects with one's mind. Cannot move anything larger than a car door. Equipment: Power Gloves – Four that look identical but each have their own powers. (They’re pretty damn basic weapons in the grander scheme of things. But considering the powers she has, I didn’t want to go OTT.) Heat Glove – Generates a high temperature on impact with a surface/person. Cold Glove – Generates a low temperature on impact with a surface/person. Vibro Glove – Causes vibrations on impact with a surface/person. Smoke Glove – Allows a smoke cloud to be generated when a small button is pressed. Otherwise it is just an armoured glove that hits a tiny bit harder than a plain old fist. Quotes: “Maggot.” “Take that filth out of my sight before I crush you.” “Watch. My. Lips.” Theme Song: This. :) Aspiration: Complete and utter domination of everything. The setting sun beamed into the executive office space through the opened glass balcony doors. Floor to roof windows matched the doors and made the entire wall seem as though it weren’t even there. A large leather office chair sat at a magnificent mahogany desk. The chair was facing out towards the balcony that was situated right behind it. A small, balding and fairly plump human male was standing in front of the desk, his hands wringing a very sweaty handkerchief out onto his highly polished black shoes. ”I-I… I can only apo-apolo-apologise L-l-lady Re-regional…” The man stumbled over his words as they tumbled from his mouth. The sound of drumming nails on leather came from the office chair that echoed around the now deathly silent room. The chair silently swivelled around to expose its occupant. The drumming abruptly stopped. Ruthalia Morphento, Regional Manager of Galatec on New Earth, sat upon her throne and exuded importance without making a motion or a sound. Her hair was bundled upon her head in a sleek bun that made her face look more severe than usual. Her cherry red lips were pursed with irritation and her brow may not have showed a single frown line but there was most definitely a scowl heading towards the poor man before her. “Apologies are for the pathetic. Are you one of the pathetic, Mr Grant? Don’t answer that.” Mr Grant gulped back his answer, his mouth hanging open until the moment that Ruth swiftly stood from her chair and began to walk around her desk. Her Jimmy Choo’s clicked on the marble flooring with each step until she stopped before the trembling form that was Mr Grant. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? Come, let us stand on the balcony.” She did not wait for a response before she clicked her way out of the office. The balcony was rimmed with waist high, black coloured, steel edged, frosted glass fencing. The sun was low enough that the shadows of the other high rise buildings and skyscrapers were now casting shadows across the building. Mr Grant hurried behind Ruth and huffed as he reached the fence. He swallowed hard and saw how high from the ground they currently were, 55 stories from the ground. “Let me explain what is going to happen, Mr Grant.” Hands clasped in front of Ruth as she rested them on the fence. She glanced to her right, watching Mr Grant as he puffed and panted. “You are going to pay for the mistakes you have made. You are going to thank me for this outcome and be grateful that worse didn’t happen to you.” Her entire body turned towards Mr Grant and a very sweet, unsettling smile spread across her face. ”Thank you for making this decision so easy to make, Mr Grant. I wish you all the best.” Ruth’s right hand sprung forward and grabbed Mr Grant by the neck. He coughed and spluttered, his hands grasping at her delicate looking arm. His face began to turn red when she lifted him from the ground, his stubby legs dangled as she rose his body higher than the topmost edge of the balcony edging. ”Do enjoy your complimentary skydiving lesson, Mr Grant. Consider it part of your severance package.” One fluid swing of her arm and Mr Grant was no longer on the 55th floor. An echoing yell of despair and utter terror rang out and lessened to the smallest whisper before long. Ruth made her way back into her office, closing the glass doors behind herself before settling behind her desk once more. A small yawn left her lips before she looked towards the door of her office. “Please send in my 4 o’clock.” Her thought rang out and the buzzer to her door rang out before the door opened to allow her next appointment to enter. A nervous, bespectacled woman shuffled in and looked around the room. There were no other exits from this office and the fear that spread over the woman’s face made Ruth’s face erupt into an ecstatic smile. “Please take a seat, Mrs Grant.”

Eh bien, baise. Il était là avec une chose sur son poignet qui pourrait très bien le tuer instantanément, même s'il doutait que c'était le cas. C'était trop élaboré pour un meurtre. En outre, leur mentor apparent avait prouvé, dans une certaine mesure, qu'il n'était pas aussi dense que Jonas l'avait immédiatement cru. Aller aux conclusions était toujours quelque chose que Jonas avait tenté d'éviter dans le passé, les présomptions créaient des erreurs et gaspillaient beaucoup de temps. Il n'a jamais pensé que ses deux ravisseurs n'étaient pas intelligents, il avait simplement remis en question leur façon de faire les choses et leurs motivations. Il les avait crus naïfs et il avait eu tort sur ce front, du moins en ce qui concerne leurs idées pour un plan de secours. Mais ce n'était pas ce sur quoi il devait se concentrer, il y avait un problème qui a préséance. Quoi qu'il pense du groupe actuel d'individus qu'il est maintenant coincé, le fait demeure que sa nouvelle mission a besoin d'un certain niveau de soutien et avec les raisons de sa position totalement inconnue de la blonde, Michael pourrait potentiellement s'avérer inestimable. Jonah devrait le sauver, et probablement Lillian, de l'attaque suicide du rebelle. Il a regardé son poignet... Et il faudrait qu'il dise une phrase ridicule pour que ça commence. D'accord, moi d'abord... Et puis ça a commencé.. Il leva le poignet, la pierre pourpre qui brillait brillamment, "Flash vers l'avant!" Le monde est tombé à mesure que sa forme de ranger apparaissait dans un rassemblement de pixels et de lumière. Il s'est avancé et l'image a fait de même, brisant lors de la collision pour révéler Jonas adapté dans l'armure. Alors que ses yeux commençaient à se déplacer à travers une myriade de couleurs, des particules de lumière se balançaient autour de sa tête, se dispersant pour révéler son casque dans un dernier éclair de lumière violette. Jonah regarda ses mains, se fléchissant les doigts alors qu'il se serre les poings et s'enflamma les poings. Il s'est senti... fort! Vraiment fort! Il s'était toujours senti capable, mais c'était différent. Il avait l'impression d'être plus léger malgré des armements lourds encaissant son corps. Il s'est tourné vers les autres, son regard aiguisé tirant à travers son casque. Vous attendez une invitation?

Name: Jonah Fallen Nickname/Alias: No Race: Human Age: 21 Ethnicity: East German on his mother's side, Russian on his father's side. He's also part polish and 1/15th Indian(not Native American) from his great grandmother. Gender: Male Appearance: Jonah is a light skinned male standing at 6'1 with toned muscles from working and his training. He has dirty blonde hair that he likes to keep short and sweet blue eyes that are usually seen sharpening at things he finds annoying. Along with those penetrating blues, he wears a set of thick rimmed glasses and keeps a small “glasses cleaning kit” in his pocket when ever maintenance is required. Despite working out daily, he appears as an average looking young man when wearing long sleeves since he focuses more on toning his muscles rather than having huge ones. His slightly chiseled features are smooth but he has some hair on his stomach. Clothing: He likes to keep things simple so he'll often be seen in a plain shirt and some jeans, he doesn't lean towards one color over the rest but is often seen in black or blue since his mother used to tell him it fit him best. He prefers short sleeved shirts and long pants but will change that up if it becomes uncomfortable to move in. For that same reason, he often sports sneakers as they are easy to move around in. In The Mind Personality: Jonah has an independent personality, he strives to be the best he can be because that's all he knows how to be. He keeps a cool head under pressure and always does his best to figure out the best solution to the problem at hand. He doesn't believe in good or evil, stating that all things are objectively of the same value. Often quiet unless spoken to, Jonah keeps an air of contemplation about himself and makes a note to distance himself from others so that they don't become a liability. While this method can supply an incredibly sturdy strength, Jonah's logical outlook can at times give way to his inter turmoils. See, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he is not always as cool as he thinks he is. While strong and independent, Jonah's attempts at apathy hides the fact that he does care about the people around him. His emotions are often the one thing he believes holds him back but they often supply more to his motives than he'll let on. Never to show fear, never to admit defeat, Jonah's logical thoughts can turn to mush when faced with having to deal with some of his inner-demons. Likes: Books that make you think about things. Silence. Dislikes: Stupid people. Self righteousness. Fears: That his rationality is just cowardice, that he's simply avoiding his greater emotions and is a hypocrite for telling people to not be controlled by them when he's letting them force him to flee from himself. Quirks: He loves to read, mainly books on philosophy which can sometimes overlap with books on strategy though most books on the art of war were destroyed. When upset or feeling unhinged, he'll take to cleaning his glasses to regain a form of control over his person. Where They’ve Been History: Jonah grew up in a small apartment in a not-so-friendly part of the city. It wasn't perfect but he had what he needed. His parents, on the other hand, were not quite as okay with their arrangement as he was. Starting from the womb, his parents pressured him to be the golden-child that would sky rocket them to the big times! Whether it was mathematics or sports, Jonah was told that he had to succeed to make life worth living for his family. He followed every rule but still slipped up, receiving negative reinforcement when he did so. But, eventually, he began to catch his stride. He started winning soccer games and getting A's on his tests and suddenly the negative reinforcement stopped. He was happy, his parents were happy, everything was better. Until he started hating his activities, started getting tired of waking up and never doing the things he wanted. At first, he hated this turning in his stomach because he loved his parents but he still couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him so mad at them some times. He didn't have friends to talk to so he sought knowledge in his books. The library was a short walk from his home so he'd spend as much time as he could just reading. He had a love for philosophy and thinking and used ideals he learned to come to the conclusion that what was happening to him wasn't a bad thing, it was just a “thing” and that him giving way to subjective beliefs was what was causing him problems internally. Eventually he began to distance himself from his parents until he didn't see them as his parents anymore, he saw them as just another problem. By the time he was ten years old, he had developed a form of detached apathy, a learned behavior he adopted to keep his emotions in check. Suddenly, he didn't smile as much. He didn't laugh at all and he didn't speak quite as much as he used to. He was only a child but he got better at rationalizing with age and by the time Galatec seized complete control, he was already stead-fast in his thought process. Besides, honestly, life didn't really change when they arrived, not for him any way. His parents went to work and left him with his books, though the material was now more about how to serve the greater good than anything else. They confiscated his other books on philosophical thinking and mathematics, apparently those were “dangerous books that brought about dangerous thoughts”. He grew up in that situation, unaware of how much the world was going to continue to change. Time went on, and just as he thought, people began to cope with the change. It had been years, and like all things that occur, what was once “horrible tragedy” became “yesterday”. Life was in a constant state of flux and he wouldn't let such a fact break his concentration. His mother, now a widow after the passing of her late-husband, pushed Jonah to make a name for himself in the new society, she saw that he was different than everyone else now and thought she could bank on it. Jonah agreed because he didn't want to be thought of as expendable, besides, working hard was how he made it through life, keeping his center is how he survived. He had to keep a rational mind and continue moving forward. And that's exactly what he did. He began working as soon as possible, Galatec didn't care about age so long as their workers knew what they were doing. Eventually, he stood out and worked his way up, volunteering for the riskier parts of the job until he was being looked at by the higher ups. He refused to sit idle, not for honor or pride but because he knew that he only got one chance at life, knew what it meant to waste time and effort. Through it all, he kept his composure. He rationalized everything he saw, closed his eyes and reminded himself about the philosophies he put his trust in because that's all he had to stand by. Maybe he had problems with the blank eyes of some of the other workers, maybe he would be up at night, trying to see why his own eyes still flickered with life, maybe he wondered about the girl he once saw with the same eyes as him. But that didn't matter, work mattered, staying alive mattered. “You don't get second chances at life.” He reminded himself on those nights. “Galatec is in control, there is nothing you can do, don't be illogical, keep yourself centered...” Like that, every day. “What is is, and what is not is not.” They were truths, he could rely on truths. He just couldn't stand with them in his entirety. After all, he was still human. When the opportunity arose, Jonah volunteered for bodyguard duty, knowing that it meant he'd be given martial training and hoping it would supply a better standing for himself and, by extension, his mother. He was healthy enough, had a strong build from staying fit so he didn't have much trouble being selected. His training went by pretty easily as he took rather well to punching things into submission, perhaps due to some seriously repressed rage? Whose to say? After the initial adrenaline of letting loose for the first time wore off, he began practicing more at home, honing his reflexes as best he could. While not a god of the martial arts, he was able to prove himself worthy enough to stand guard for some big shots in the corporation. It didn't involve much, just watching and waiting for anything to slide by, a pretty simple procedure. As time went on, he did his work well, making a small name for himself with the others in his profession. It was an easy life really, easier than manual labor though how he trained at home, you'd think other wise but he still felt an unease about himself . One of which was when he first met a member of the rebels, a group that had yet to come to terms with what was and tried to ruin the status quo. Didn't they understand the feedback of what they were doing, how nothing changed but the amount of panic they caused to minor citizens? He had been on a regular patrol when he saw one, a rebel running from some other guards. He moved to assist but noticed that he recognized her, she was the girl with eyes like his, eyes still flickering with life. He wasn't sure why, but he let her pass, let a dangerous rebel pass by without a fight. She looked at him at as she ran by, first with confusion and then with a small smile continued on her way. He didn't realize it until turning around to see his reflection in a window, didn't even recognize the unfamiliar sensation... But he had a smile on his face as he watched her disappear around a corner.... After the encounter, he moved out of his old home and got a small apartment, feeling that the connections he had were clouding his judgment. Something about having to see his mother's eyes made him nervous so by 20 he was gone. Before he left, he promised her that he'd keep doing his best, though he didn't see the point in the ritual since he planned to do so anyway. His life was steady, to a degree but all of that, his worries and his real desire, came to a front when he was faced with a life changing decision. It had been so normal, training had gone well and nothing out of the ordinary had shown up as he escorted his charge through the street. Until suddenly, everything went to hell. Someone blew a bullhorn and a fire erupted on his left, a bit distraction for the person running towards the target, his charge. The attacker, a masked assailant ran in a panicked frenzy with a scream of desperation. They were part of the rebellion. Obviously, the attack failed, Jonah struck their weapon to the ground before a sharp low kick knocked away their legs and they were falling to ground. The assailant scrambled to their feet and began to scurry away, Jonah gave chase and they made their way all the way out to the coal mines. “Stop chasing me!” The assailant shouted as they jumped into the large ditch where the entrance was located. The masked fighter tripped on their landing and fell with a huff. As Jonah followed suit, landing in a roll, the attacker made one last lunge that Jonah quickly put a stop to when he threw them to the ground with one arm twisted behind their back. “Let me go!” “You are weaker than me, you should have been prepared for this outcome.” He responded as he pulled off her mask to reveal.... The girl with eyes like his. Yes, the girl he had let go earlier came back, the one he used to see when he thought about the life he was living came back after failing once already. Why did she come back, why didn't she learn her lesson and why was he thinking about letting her go again. Why did seeing this person fighting still make his heart stop a second, make him think about what he could be doing differently. “I know you, you're the guy who let me by the last time.” She said in realization. “And you're the one who was dumb enough to go and come back after getting a second chance at life.” He responded, deadpan as he pulled her to her feet. “What point is there to life if you can't make your own choices?” She retorted with a strange fire in her eyes. She broke out of the grip and glared at him. “You and I have the same eyes you should see things a lot clearer.” “Don't you understand, the war's already over.” He responded coolly. “This isn't your last pitch effort to save the world, we're not one city away from being under their control and you aren't the last key to the puzzle.” His steely blue eyes cut through her. “We've lost, the invasion you're trying stop? That's come and gone and people have moved on with their lives, what is is and what is not is not so stop living in a fairy tale world and get it together or you won't even have a life to cry about.” Those were the facts, the rebels should know that. Galatec was already in control, there wasn't a war to fight anymore, all that was left were lives to live as best as possible. Throwing yourself into a self-righteous ideal only serves to get you killed and there's no coming back from that. “Clearly, it was a mistake to let you go, I won't make it again.” “Okay,” She still had a smile on her face though. “than why am I not being turned in right now?” And then he had to be quiet as her smirk grew. “Why do I know that you're never going to turn me in?” She walked up close and never broke eye contact. “It's because you know what they'll do to me, don't you?”She took a step forward and he took one back. “You get how that's wrong, and you care.” She stepped passed him and he turned his head but didn't move to stop her. “Ya know, a guy like you could do something if he wanted, way more than me.” She climbed out of the hole before turning to look down at him and give a quick and playful salute. “Maybe stop trying to make sense of the situation and find out what you really believe, you're a human so you should act like one!” She ran off around yet another corner, leaving him to his thoughts. “Crap..” He said to himself. Why did he let her let go...again!? Why did he smile the last the time, why doesn't he feel bad about doing it now? Maybe it was an idiotic thing to give up on the ideals of right and wrong, maybe he had been idiotic about a lot of things. He had tried doing it his way for as long as he could remember, it was how he survived but was surviving and living the same thing or was he making them the same so he could deal with the situation? What were his real motives for his way of thinking, how much was logic and how much was fear? He stood there at the entrance of the mine, thinking to himself about what he'd do next. Talents: Logical thinking, more than anything else. Jonah may be good at fighting but that's a skill, his true talent, which could be considered the back bone of all his skills, is his logical mindset which gives him the ability to strike precisely and plan accordingly. Hindrances: Empathizing, holding his temper, admitting he was wrong, and expressing himself. Equipment: Morpher(Blue Ranger). A normal combat knife he keeps on him for special occasions and his glasses/glasses cleaning kit. Bonus Round Quotes: “What is is, and what is not is not.” Theme Song: nope Aspiration: To find out what he really wants in life. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation:Violet Primary Weapon:THE PHOTON BOW The photon bow is a light based, long bow that generates arrows of pure energy to strike down its target. The bow is capable of firing multiple arrows at once with its average maximum being four unless overcharged (which will result in a rain of twelve arrows before the weapon is forced to recharge). By turning the bow, one can focus the arrows into one incredibly condensed and narrow blast, but this attack takes a lot of time to charge which leaves the archer open to attack. As each attack's quantity and quality are affected by both how long and in what way a person pulls back the bow string, the bow is not for the clumsy or undisciplined. It takes timing and calculation to bring out this weapon's maximum potential. Energy Shield: His shield is a circular shape, perfect for blocking attacks. It's a very nice shade of purple and glows in the dark. Blaster Design: Silver trim, black trigger, mostly violet. It has a sleek design with the gun's barrel having a thin line of silver across its top. The actual muzzle is the same pitch black as the trigger and there's a neon line of green running along the side of the gun. Powers: As the violet ranger, Jonah has the ability to see across all spectrum of sight. He makes calculations on how to strike next by scanning people's bodies with X-Ray vision and using infrared, he has the ability to shoot people down and fight accurately in the shadows. Along with X-ray and infrared, Jonah can see UV light and Radio waves along with much more. With vision beyond an eagle's, Jonah can strike down any opponent with deadly precision. Zords:N/A Jonah stood behind a lone tree with his binoculars set to night-vision, the darkness only lightened by the stray strands of the moon.. He had set up his sting in a small park for kids, surrounded by small shrubbery and a few trees all of which was going to be demolished soon. Across from him stood the construction zone where they were working on a 20 floor parking garage. As if the world needed more places for Galatec to park their fancy vehicles. He was there because there had been a report of beasts getting loose from the science division, a few Githkin test subjects had broken out of the lab and ran off into the city with a few people commenting on seeing them in the park at night. No one was advised to stay indoors because Galatec didn't want panic to ruin their precious balance which meant the people of the city were being left high and dry. Instead, curfew was moved up to 9:00 pm, lucky there weren't any encounters in that short amount of time. But now, night had fallen and anyone not in doors was a target which didn't seem to matter as there had been no sign of any people for awhile. Jonah wasn't sure if he was happy or sad about that. In this part of town there was always someone trying to get one over on you, he remembered hearing gun shots from his window from time to time, now he doesn't hear anything, no crimes, no muggings just the silence of night. “Every thing's so peaceful now.” He thought to himself as he watched the area. It was nights like these where he was the most conflicted. He was about to stop a few monsters that could kill a lot of people but he wasn't sure if the city has ever been safer than it is now. Nights like these could happen every day, a few Githkin escaping every night and it might not even make a dent in Earth's war torn history. This was one of the main reasons he couldn't except the other ranger's idea of a righteous victory, he couldn't say that Galatec wasn't a benefit to earth as a whole. He certainly got higher in this society than his background would have allowed him to before, there wasn't much prejudice or pollution or war. Just work and while that might be boring he couldn't say that weren't plenty of people who should only have that option in life. *rustle* His gaze instantly went to a bush on the opposite side of his hiding place. His hand went for his morpher but he didn't move, he wouldn't till he confirmed his target. As he watched, two figures popped out of the bush, they looked around warily before fulling stepping out into the moonlight, revealing their small frames. Children, two of them, they walked around as if trying to find something. The first was about twelve while the other was at least 13. Jonah didn't move from his post but instead used his binoculars to scan them closer. He noticed that they weren't frightened, instead being rather resolved. Judging by their hooded attire, they must have planned to be outside tonight. Hooded children out scouting the night sky with an emotion in their eyes, they must be part of the .5% meaning.. They were rebel scouts. “Great, just what I needed.” Jonah scoffed to himself, obviously not thrilled with the idea of having to deal with another rebel problem. Those guys really need to start leaving things to the professionals. Not that he was any more of a professional than they were but he definitely had more combat training. Luckily they didn't spot him as he hid in the shadows, to bad a very aggressive group of something had the duo in their sights. The rogue Githkins, five of them. The creatures moved toward the children and they screamed. The scout duo clearly hadn't had access to the same reports that his team had. The younger child ducked behind the eldest but still held some form of courage as the creatures drew nearer. The first Githkin raised it's hand to strike but the blow was offset by a timely thrown stone that knocked it's hand off course. The beast quickly turned to identify the attacker only to be met with a larger stone striking it in the face, in fact they were all being pelted with stones, most at their legs and ankles but a number of them aimed at their eyes and face. The children were initially scared but then became rather perplexed when they saw their would-be attackers being pelted. They stood there curious before a glimpse of a figure in the shadows ushering them to escape had them nodding and running back into the bushes, leaving as fast as they had come. “Perfect.” Jonah thought within the shadows. “They didn't see my face and I managed to sit some of those idiots in the eye.” He quickly scanned them over, three of the five still looked like they had a decent control of their faculties. “Even blind, that's still too many for my liking, I'll have to fight them on my terms if I wanna win.” And then he remembered the construction yard. “That's it.” He dashed out of the foliage to close the distance between him and the Githkin, Shocked at first, one made a fierce swing he ducked and rolled under before popping up to his feet in between the two blinded by stones. He deflected a left hook with an open palm before his leg whipped up to kick both eye damaged Githkin's in the chest, leg swinging back and forth between the two of them. "As I thought." The attack merely stunned them and soon the others were on him as well, swinging violently as he back flipped away and skidded to a stop. “That's right, your enemy's right here,” He cockily saluted before running into the parking garage shadows with the Githkin's hot on his trail. “Alright,” He swiped his hand over his wrist and his morpher flashed “Strike force, flash forward!” In the parking garage on level three, the Githkin's crept. Deep into the shadows they lurked, foot steps echoing in the hollow space, often turning at the sight of a shadowy gray figure passing by them like a phantom. Their eyes scanned the area for their prey but to no avail. As they passed by a pillar of stone, a sound, a click, had them halting in surprise. They lay unaware of who was on the other side. "X-Ray activated..." Jonah, donned in dark purple armor of his ranger form stood with bow drawn. The dim light of the bow focused and tightened as the arrow of light condensed. "Focusing rate: 100%" The creature's pondered as they began to take a step closer to the pillar of stone. "Firing..." Jonah released the bow string and the arrow shot through the stone pillar and the skull of the Githkin on the other side. The other soldiers went frantic on the defense when their companion turned into ooze but Jonah was already moving. "Infrared activated." His vision swapped out and suddenly he could see all of them clearly as they scrambled in the darkness. He pulled his bow string back before dashing out of his hiding place in a dive roll, landing on one knee with bow drawn and arrows already appearing between his fingers. He let it loose, just as the nearest Githkin began to notice his presence, and littered its body with three arrows to its chest. It screeched before dissolving and suddenly he couldn't hide anymore. They closed in but Jonah was already readying his bow as they rushed him. “Here we go..” He dashed backwards as one came down on him with a punch that cracked the concrete. As it moved to continue its rampage, he released a charged arrow through its chest before running up to back-kick it into the others and fire another three arrows into the group. As they scrambled to regroup in the shadows, he switched to X-Ray and scanned them for damage. “That last attack was on stun but the one in front received most of the damage and can't move, I'll focus my attacks on the two left as the weakened one slows them down.” By the time he finished his thought they were on him again. He back-flipped to dodge a high swing and side stepped the flying kick from another, striking the attacking Githkin with his bow before having to dash backwards and avoid the mighty swing of the weakened Githkin. He returned to the fray with a flying knee that struck the weakened Githkin in the chest, knocking it into one of its companions and freeing Jonah to strike down the one now left alone. It moved to attack but he back-flipped away to skid across the ground with bow drawn. As the arrow charged, he dodged the incoming blows from the Githkin soldier; ducking and weaving past each punch, smacking away the clumsy kick that followed with a high kick of his own and bringing up his bow before releasing it at point blank range to turn the soldier's skull into gray goop and watching as the rest of its body dissolved. Just as the other two Githkins managed to center themselves and go for a retaliation, his purple suit turned dark gray and he faded back into the shadows. Like a phantom, he circled them as he slid from pillar to pillar in the darkness. With a steady hand he pulled back his bow string and two arrows appeared between his fingers. The light of the arrows released a light shine as they began to glow. And then he was dashing forward He released the two arrows, hitting the back of the weakened Githkin's legs and making it buckle to its knees. As it went to get up, Jonah ran up its back and used it as a spring board to become air borne with bow string drawn. Before the other Githkin could think, it was struck with three stun arrows to the chest and Jonah was closing the remaining distance with a flying kick that had it skidding backwards. As the Githkin stumbled to regroup, Jonah hit the ground in a roll, landing right below the soldier on one knee with bow pointing straight up. "Firing." He released and the concussive force smashed into the Githkin's jaw, sending it flying up into the air and falling to the ground with a splat. Standing to full height, he turned, fingers already pulling back his bow string. He casually walked by the remaining drone and with out looking, let go the arrow of light between his fingers. The last thing it heard was the whirl of energy.... Jonah breathed heavily as his ranger form shattered out of existence. He had been lucky, the obstacles in the unfinished parking garage gave him ample back up for his strategy. Had he been left in the open, the tide could have very well changed to their favor but what could have been wasn't really important now. By hook or by crook he was still alive and the kids were still alive, that was all that mattered now. He sighed to himself, heart still racing from the exertion. He waited for a moment to steady himself before he retrieved the item he had been hiding in the back of his pants. A flare gun, simple but elegant in its design. He pointed the weapon up at the sky and fired. The flare flew high into the sky before exploding like a fire work. “That'll get Galatec's attention.” He noted. Now notified in as proper a way as possible, the corporation could retrieve their lost and unstable experiments. Jonah wasn't totally pleased with the idea of assisting someone he had designated as his enemy but he couldn't clean this up on his own and Galatec had better facilities for the alien soldiers albeit slave ready more than anything else. “I guess that means the mission's over.” “Time to head back to base.”

Adelram Drax Nouvel objectif reçu : Acquérir le directeur comptable Shplorn. "Oui, madame." a dit Drax. Les lumières dans ses paumes s'évanouissaient à la promesse de bataille à l'avenir. Sans un instant gaspillé, il a filé sur son talon et a fait son premier pas hors de la porte, construisant rapidement la vitesse. Il s'est enfui à travers la porte, mais pas de sa manière habituelle. Le cadre de la porte "a augmenté" un petit peu pour accommoder le robot qui se précipite. Il n'a pas perdu de temps pour se rendre dans les dortoirs. Les couloirs ont à peine évité le sommet de sa tête alors qu'il sprintait à travers le bâtiment. Il a pris une cage d'escalier cinq pas à la fois, alors qu'il se limitait vers le haut. Le temps était essentiel maintenant que la bataille était à portée de main. Bientôt, il s'approchait du dortoir de Sphlorn. Il a dérapé à un arrêt, grattant et fendant le sol. Il a planté ses pieds, et son élan supérieur l'a porté dans ce qui ressemble à une trajectoire parfaite face-plan, mais il a étendu son genou vers l'avant, s'est griffé la main et s'est claqué le genou et la main dans le sol. Une explosion d'énergie éclata de sa paume, et un fleuve d'énergie se dirigea rapidement vers Githkin et Shplorn. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- L'énergie les soulèverait tous les deux dans l'air, si Drax les scoopait alors sans explication et les précipitait vers Ruthalia.

Name: GD-002-17 Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath Race: Android/Robot Age: 7 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: "Male" Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form. Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints. His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder. In The Mind Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view. When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords. Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like. Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike. Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up. Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission. Where They’ve Been History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax. When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin. He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him. Talents: Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down. Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons. He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander. He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum. He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent. Hindrances: He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck. If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited. Powers: Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry. Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain. Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position. Equipment: Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers. One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies. Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time. And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering. He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air. Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out. Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision. Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets. Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload. Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired. Bonus Round Quotes: "..." "The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%." "..." Theme Song: i dunno Aspiration: File not found. "Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure. "The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun. "Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight. "This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply." The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor. The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail. Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking. Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up. Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind. When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere. If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed. He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level.

Clementine était heureuse de voir qu'il y avait une sorte de plan de secours en place, bien qu'elle s'interroge sur son efficacité. Il lui a aussi fait penser à ses parents et à ce qui leur arriverait, mais à ce stade, elle a essayé de ne pas y penser; ils ont toujours été des supporters de Galatec modèle, et peut-être cela leur a accordé un peu de protection, ce serait terriblement mauvais PR si quelqu'un devait découvrir qu'ils ont reçu du mal de Galatec. Clementine a pris l'objet en forme de bracelet gingembre, soigneusement attaché à son bras. Elle regarda dans l'admiration comme Jonas se transforma. Après son avance, elle a décidé de faire de même. "Force Strike, F-Flash en avant!" Clementine a dit avec un léger bégaiement, en lui poussant le bras sur la tête. Tout comme avec Jonas, la pierre jaune dans le bracelet de Clémentine brillait brillamment, mais au lieu d'éblouir, la lumière s'est étendue dans un brillant flash aveuglant qui était terminé aussi vite qu'il avait commencé. La lumière a disparu, Clementine s'est retrouvée dans une version jaune du costume de Jonas. Clementine s'est un peu ébranlée, ne s'attendant pas à ce que sa transformation soit si... éblouissante et fasse d'elle le centre temporaire de l'attention. "Désolé, j'espère que les yeux de tout le monde vont bien... peut-être que je ne l'ai pas bien contrôlé ou quelque chose...", a-t-elle dit, se demandant si sa transformation était censée être un peu plus apprivoisée, comme l'avait été Jonah. Pourtant, son manque de confiance et de confiance en soi semblait légèrement s'effondrer. Porter ce costume l'a revigorée, semblait la remplir d'un sens du but. Elle a regardé Samara et a dit, "Je vais m'assurer d'avoir votre message à ce Michael." En ce moment, Clementine préférerait avoir la responsabilité d'être un messager plutôt qu'un combattant si elle pouvait l'aider. Elle est allée aux côtés de Jonas, prête à le suivre. Même si elle ne l'avait connu que depuis moins d'une heure, ce fait qu'elle le connaissait le plus longtemps fait Clémentine sentir un certain attachement paniqué à Jonas, la chose la plus proche qu'elle avait à la familiarité qu'elle pouvait obtenir dans cette situation chaotique. Il a également donné un sentiment de fiabilité, ayant montré une volonté et une volonté de prendre le premier pas, de diriger; Clementine était donc prêt et prêt à suivre.

Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title? Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker Race: Humany Human of Humaness Age: 21 Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different. Gender: Male Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases. Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth. In The Mind Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need. Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things. Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others. Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black. Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can. Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts. Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own. Where They’ve Been History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens. Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free. After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously. It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him. Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things. Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger. Powers: N to the A biatch. Equipment: Blue Photon Morpher Red-Light-Emitting Necklace Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools. Ripped up miner clothes. Bonus Round Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!" Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Blue Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying. Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through. Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means. Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it.

Comme Mable écrivait son nom dans le bloc-notes, ses yeux roses s'élargissaient comme un hibou lorsqu'elle voyait le message. "Red Rock?" Elle a regardé le visage de Githkin, juste maintenant en train de le regarder. "Tu n'es pas fan du tout, n'est-ce pas?" Elle a demandé. "Je suis sur la touche depuis que ce conflit a commencé, attendant que quelque chose arrive." Mable a remis le bloc-notes au Githkin, tout comme son manager s'est brouillé. "Juste un fan Joo-Joo, calme-toi.~" Mable agita poliment le Githkin et commença à s'en aller. Elle avait du mal à garder sa respiration facile, et ses joues bleues avaient commencé à rincer pourpre. Les choses avaient fini par bouger dans cette ville, et elle était plus excitée qu'elle ne l'était depuis des années. Elle a essayé de se concentrer sur son concert, les paroles et la routine de danse qu'elle avait tant de mal à apprendre, mais il était difficile de s'en soucier en ce moment. Elle voulait partir tout de suite et faire quelque chose, mais elle ne pouvait pas. Elle s'est emparée de la poitrine et a laissé respirer un souffle anxieux. "Je vais devenir folle si ça me manque."

Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist) Nickname/Alias: Mable Race: Valiant Age: 20 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: Female Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples. Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank. Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts. In The Mind Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them. Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause. Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets. Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone. Fears: Failure, gloomy moods. Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning. Where They’ve Been History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet. She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec. Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside. Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability. Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire. Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out. Equipment: Morpher?? Bonus Round Quotes: "Peace and Love!" Theme Song: N/A Aspiration: Love and Peace! It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: ?? Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points. Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact. Powers: ?? Zords: Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd. This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!" She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough. Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming. As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were. The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away. "Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim. After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message. 'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.' As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home.

Oliver a regardé l'appareil qu'on lui a donné. Il n'était toujours pas sûr s'il était le bon choix pour le poste. En voyant les autres se transformer en leurs couleurs respectives, Oliver était excité. Quand il a entendu les mots sortir de la bouche de Tommy, il s'est senti un peu plus en sécurité. Il a attaché l'appareil autour de son poignet et a commencé son processus de transformation. Maintenant son poignet devant lui, il a dit, "Force Strike, Flash Forward!" Une forme de pixels et de lumière est apparue devant lui en émettant de la pierre verte. Oliver s'y est curieusement approché, et quand il l'a touché, la lumière et les pixels ont commencé à s'envelopper autour de son corps brillant. Quand la lumière a finalement diminué Oliver a pu être vu debout là couvert de haut en bas dans un costume puissant. Il pouvait sentir la force du costume et la lumière qu'il produisait éclaircissait son esprit de tout doute qu'il avait plus tôt. Il a regardé vers ses camarades rangers et a dit, "C'est absolument génial. Je me sens tellement plus fort." Il s'est retourné vers John et Samara quand il s'est souvenu de Michael : « Ne t'inquiète pas pour Micheal. S'assurer que lui et tout le monde est en sécurité."

Name: Oliver Johnson Nickname/Alias: Ollie Race: Human Age: 16 Ethnicity: Mostly English, but also a lot of Irish. Gender: Male Ollie is 5'10" with black hair, bluish-green eyes, and a very perky smile. His jaw is very rugged and his face always seems to look happy no matter what. He is somewhat thin but has more muscle in his arms then the average person his age. Clothing: Typically wears a white undershirt, a dark-green hoodie, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes. In The Mind Personality: Ollie cares deeply for all those around him. Despite hating Galatec he actually feels as though some don't believe in the way they do things. He wants to help any who is need of help believing it is the best way to change things. He has low self-confidence and feels as though he isn't making much of a difference. When left alone to long he gets in his own head and constantly doubt himself. He doesn't just help people because they need it. He helps people because it also makes him happier. He is very outgoing but is very oblivious to many things and extremely gullible. He is very loyal to those who gain his trust and will never betray them even if they have hurt him. Likes: He really enjoys staring at the horizon hoping that one day the world will change back to normal. He loves to make others laugh and if he thinks others are feeling down will try to come up with a way to make them feel better. He just likes times when life seems to slow down and he can just stare into the sky and imagine flying through the air. Dislikes: He hates it when people tries to hurt others. Whenever he sees anyone in pain or upset he just can't bare it. Of course he despises Galatec like the other good guys. Fears: Not making a difference. Being completely alone. Quirks: Is constantly zoning out. Where They’ve Been History: Ollie grew up pretty much in the slums. His mother had no job and his father fought as a MMA fighter for small promotions. His parents were scared that because of them his life wouldn't account for much. However, he showed great skill with practically every instrument he picked up The only one he had trouble with was the harmonica which his dad was fairly decent at playing. His parents started to think he might be able to pull himself out of the garbage that he was born in. It was unfortunate though that Galatec chose the day that Ollie was to play in front of a brilliant pianist to take full control of New Earth. During the time that Galatec had initially arrived Ollie's father just didn't trust them. He had been use to being cheated and scammed that he felt something was off. Due to this none of the three partook in any of the products given by Galatec, barely making it. When Galatec initiated the takeover it proved just how horribly right Ollie's father had been. The only things Ollie cared about were his parents and instruments. Galatec deemed instruments to be to fulfilling and filled with the ability to increase free will, so they took them all. To a six year old it made no sense, but he kept quiet because his parents asked him to. His father and mother made sure to protect him and his father gave him his own harmonica, which he had kept hidden and told him to practice in secret. Over the next few years, the small family barely squeaked by without drawing suspicion. Ollie's father secretly training him at night to fight via boxing and kickboxing hoping that the day would come that they could do something. However, an unfortunate thing occurred. Ollie's mother had died whilst working in the mines. This caused Ollie's father to become enraged. He foolishly went to the mines and tried to attack the Githkin, but to no avail.He was brutally beaten and then killed. The Githkin were sent to hunt down Ollie and do the same, but when they got a hold of him they almost instantly received new orders to move him to the Red Rocks mining colony where he has been worked harshly ever since. Talents: Before Galatec arrived he was considered a musical prodigy, yet hasn't had the ability to practice in years. He is also quite skilled in boxing and kickboxing due to secret training from his father. He is also extremely optimistic and will almost always be seen with a smile on his face. Hindrances: He is not very good socially. He often sticks his foot in his mouth due to never really thinking about what he says before it comes out of his mouth. He is also pretty clumsy when he isn't focused. Pretty much the only time he is focused is when it is a very serious situation or he is playing an instrument of some sort. When he messes things up it tends to heavily derail him and his issues tend to get much worse often making more clumsy mistakes and makes a mess of everything. Equipment: His morpher. A harmonica his father gave him that he has kept hidden. Bonus Round Quotes: "Sorry, sorry, sorry"/"It's time for some Ollie magic." Theme Song: I am honestly very bad at figuring out theme songs. Aspiration: To just simply be acknowledged and have the feeling of worth. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Green Primary Weapon: MMA gloves that when touched together can create an electric shock. Can be used either for electrifying an enemy or possibly as a defibrillator. Energy Shield: Ollie's shield is kite formatted and runs along his arm. At the front end the shield is very sharp. Ollie however will rarely use his shield unless he is using his blaster. Blaster Design: Ollie's blaster is sleek but thick. At the end of the barrel two energy shafts oscillate around the center barrel. The handle has an extension that runs along his arm to make his aim more stable an does not have a sight. Powers: As the Green Ranger Ollie has the power to bend light in a way to create mirages of himself and potentially others. Using this ability he can easily trick the bad guys getting them to follow nothing but light. Zords: None at the moment.

Le githkine n'a pas répondu aux paroles de Mable, ni réagi d'aucune façon. En fait, une fois qu'elle a rendu le livre, il a simplement tourné autour et à gauche. Gajoon semblait soulagé quand il a essuyé... Attends, les céphapodiens pourraient-ils transpirer? Quoi qu'il en soit, il a fait le mouvement d'essuyer la sueur de son front et a cherché tout le plus heureux pour elle. Puisque Mable s'occupait de ses propres pensées, et que la ganterie était soit trop stupide, soit trop impolie, le manager de la pop star a eu la peine de fermer une simple porte en bois. Qu'est-ce qui se passait dans le monde? "Mlle l'Amour, ça va?" il demanda, s'approchant de Mable. "Vous avez l'air épouvantable." Il s'échauffa alors, couvrant sa bouche de quatre mains de tentacules, tandis que ses yeux s'ouvraient. "S'il vous plaît, dites-moi que vous n'avez pas de doutes sur le concert? Tu es toujours en état, non? Qu'est-ce qu'il veut? Nous sommes rudimentaires, je le sais juste!" Jackson est retourné travailler sans soins dans le monde, et pourquoi devrait-il être dérangé par quelque chose? Les choses allaient si bien, n'est-ce pas? La perceuse maniait aussi comme un charme. Le travail a continué comme ça pendant encore quatre heures. À ce moment-là, Jackson n'a dû arrêter de forer qu'une fois lorsqu'il est tombé dans une poche à gaz, alors ils ont dû la nettoyer pour protéger les travailleurs. Une seule étincelle de ces axes, ou sa perceuse, et cela aurait pu conduire à une explosion assez massive. Et c'est là que Jackson s'est retrouvé maintenant, se tenant derrière des travailleurs spécialisés qui utilisaient une sorte de Galatec a conçu des machines pour siphonner la poche de gaz naturel. C'est Jackson... Quoi? C'est Jackson... Quelque chose lui parlait? Ça sonnait comme une voix, un murmure doux et voilé. Femme. Pour une raison quelconque, il a rappelé à Jackson de la cerise de lait de beurre sur le gâteau. Mais d'où ça venait? Près des soeurs jumelles, les spotters, se tenaient leur propre conversation. Contrairement à Jackson, ils n'ont pas pu faire une courte pause pendant que l'équipe de nettoyage travaillait. Ils ont dû continuer à venir les murs avec de petits instruments et capteurs, à la recherche d'objets de valeur potentiels. Juste derrière eux, c'était le même githkin qui avait surveillé l'équipage de Jackson aujourd'hui, en regardant... C'est ennuyé? Est-ce que Githkin pourrait s'ennuyer? C'était si difficile à dire avec ces visages sans bouche. Dès que ses ordres ont été donnés, tout le monde a pratiquement sauté pour les suivre. Les assistants se sont branchés sur leurs ordinateurs pour envoyer l'ordre de rassembler les familles d'esclaves disparues. Drax n'a pas perdu de temps à quitter immédiatement les dortoirs des superviseurs, endommageant la porte dans le processus. Le contremaître Jo'ones lui a fait un clin d'œil et a salué avec ses bras tout neufs, puis a décollé sans un mot. Githkin XJ-47 est également parti sans aucune sorte de reconnaissance ni de réponse. C'était la voie de son espèce, après tout, d'obéir sans question et sans hésitation. -- Madame, l'ordre est terminé, dit l'assistante. "Les Cameras montrent qu'un groupe de rebelles approche de ce bureau. Dois-je activer les mesures de sécurité?" J'ai demandé au mâle. C'était peut-être une question stupide, mais la politique de l'établissement indiquait que la sécurité du bureau ne devait être activée que si elle avait été approuvée par le contremaître ou un représentant ayant les mêmes pouvoirs, et Galatec n'était rien si ce n'était un collant pour les beaux caractères. L'androïde chargé vers sa cible sans hésitation, et se trouva rapidement au milieu d'une grande bataille entre deux githkines et sept rebelles. Le githkin, sentant l'approche de leur général, s'écarte du chemin. Les rebelles ont eu une réponse tout à fait différente. "C'est Adelram Drax!" a crié l'un d'eux, tenant un pickaxe comme son arme principale. "Détruisez-le!" Les rebelles ont tous agressé Drax. Le chef attaqua avec son pioche, tandis qu'un autre sauta sur lui avec une batte de baseball. Deux autres ont tiré sur le robot avec de vieux fusils de chasse, tandis que deux autres ont tiré de petits pistolets. Le septième était armé d'un blaster laser mais n'a jamais eu l'occasion de tirer, car Drax a simplement traversé tout le groupe, complètement indemne, et a disparu au coin de la rue. Le CPU de Drax a calculé une probabilité de 92,3 % que les survivants soient immédiatement arrondis et/ou exécutés par les deux githkin qu'ils avaient déjà engagés. Une minute après cette altercation, Drax s'est retrouvé dans les dortoirs juste à l'extérieur de la chambre de Shplorn. Elle se tenait dans la porte tandis que les trois githkin là-bas, deux habitués et une élite, tenaient leur tête dans la confusion. On leur donnait des ordres contraires et alors que normalement les ordres du directeur régional Ruthalia l'emporteraient, Ruth avait rompu la connexion pendant que Shplorn continuait à essayer. Drax l'avait déjà vu, mais cela n'avait rien à voir avec sa mission. Dès que Drax était à ses yeux, les yeux de Shplorn s'ouvraient. Elle a jeté ses bras dans l'air en une reddition complète, permettant à la vague d'énergie de Drax de facilement l'écoper vers le haut. En même temps, il put prendre les trois githkines, et porter les quatre dans ses bras massifs sans trop de difficulté. Cependant, dès qu'il a tenu les quatre, son détecteur de situation a pris une présence derrière lui. Un de la Division Alpha, un homme d'une trentaine d'années portant une impressionnante armure de combat en métal et tenant un blaster à plasma dans sa main. Il avait l'air d'un guerrier à son sujet, un homme qui aimait les combats. "Drop Shplorn, seau de rouille, ou vous aurez besoin de beaucoup plus qu'un travail de peinture quand j'en aurai fini avec vous!" C'était une pensée intéressante et poétique, si le githkin est mort avec des sourires comme les esclaves qu'ils travaillaient jusqu'à la mort. Bien sûr, sans contexte, il n'avait absolument aucun sens de voir que l'espèce n'avait pas de bouche, mais ce n'est ni ici ni là. Michael a risqué sa vie, tout, pour briser la couverture dans la fusillade assez longtemps pour tirer sur une guirlande avec son pistolet. Son index a pressé cette gâchette, qui à son tour a mis les mécanismes de cette ancienne machine en mouvement pour enflammer la poudre à l'intérieur d'un petit tube métallique. Le bang qui en résultait était un microcosme de la situation dans laquelle se trouvait Michael. Il n'était qu'un petit tube métallique à l'intérieur d'une machine plus grande et plus complexe, et maintenant il était précipité vers un danger qu'il ne comprenait que trop bien. La balle a laissé le canon de l'arme et a frappé vrai, frappant la place de la girouette dans la poitrine. La créature se recouche environ un quart de pied, mais elle ne laisse ni grognement ni cri de douleur, et sa main n'a pas atteint la blessure par instinct. Au lieu de cela, il se concentrait entièrement sur la source du tir, ses yeux rencontrant Michael. Ses yeux étaient plus préoccupés par cette blessure par balle, ou son absence. La balle l'avait frappé, certes, mais s'était aplatie inutilement contre la peau durcie de la créature, ne laissant derrière elle qu'une petite ecchymose. Euh, oh. Un par un, chacun des jeunes s'est transformé à l'aide des morphères qu'on lui avait fournis. La ruée, la force, le pouvoir, c'était tellement... y avait-il même un mot pour ce genre d'expérience? Quoi que ce soit, c'était fantastique! À chaque transformation, ils ont eu non seulement un afflux de pouvoir, mais aussi un afflux de connaissances. C'était un peu désorientant au début, mais quelque chose qu'ils pouvaient rapidement récupérer. Chacun connaissait instantanément les capacités qu'il possédait en tant que ranger, depuis ses armes jusqu'à ses capacités améliorées, jusqu'à sa capacité unique accordée par le costume. Oh, bonne journée. "J'ai bricolé un peu avec ces dessins de morpheurs et j'ai ajouté ma propre touche. Lorsque vous êtes entré en contact avec le Morphin Grid, il aurait dû télécharger l'ensemble des compétences de votre costume directement dans votre esprit. Des années de formation dans un seul flux de données, hahaha." John sourit, en faisant le contact visuel avec chacun des quatre qui se tenaient devant lui, puis donna ses derniers mots avant de les voir partir. "Il est temps d'être un héros et de sauver votre ranger rouge. Power Rangers Strike Force, bougez-vous! » Une fois que les quatre sont entrés dans la porte Samara s'était ouverte pour eux, ils pouvaient sentir encore plus le pouvoir accordé par leurs costumes. Cependant, les tunnels qui nous attendaient posent des défis. Il était temps de voir comment ils s'en sortiraient. Une fois que les rangers sont partis, John s'est ébranlé, son sang-froid s'est soudainement évanoui. Samara savait qu'il avait un visage courageux et confiant même dans le pire des temps, mais il avait encore ses propres doutes. En ce moment, la peur se manifestait sur tout son visage. "Oui, nous avons besoin d'avoir plus de pouvoir pour le RDS. Ces générateurs ne vont pas le couper. Le temps de charge est trop long pour les grandes téléportations comme ça." Il n'a pas tardé à faire le tour, à réfléchir et à réfléchir. Avec un esprit comme le sien, des milliers de pensées s'affronteraient et seraient envisagées, mais il ne semblait aimer aucune d'entre elles. Après plusieurs instants, il s'est arrêté. "J'ai une idée si les générateurs ne se rechargent pas à temps... Mais je n'aime pas ça et je doute que vous aussi."

Name: Jackson Trent Nickname/Alias: Jack, sex on a stick (imo). Race: Human Age: 25 Ethnicity: Canadian, though no one would know what that means. Gender: Male Appearance: . |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about. Clothing: Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly. Personality: Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills. Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives. Likes: The Power Rangers White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea. The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost. Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before. Protecting people The greater good Dislikes: Galatec His job Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control His parents being under Galatec’s influence Fears: Slipping back under Galatec’s control Not being able to find the Power Rangers Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents Galatec defeating the Power Rangers Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them Dying on the job Quirks: He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right? History: Freedom. That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly. Until the Power Rangers. At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”. That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth... Talents: Extremely skilled with a tomahawk Animalistic instincts & reflexes Can see multiple approaches to a problem Agile on his feet A linear understanding of science Apparently quite the singer Hindrances: His perpetual mood swings He always sees the good in people Can sometimes be quick to judge Not exactly the one to sugar coat things His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people Powers: None. Zero. Nil. Equipment: An old mining torch A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day 10 shirts 4 pairs of jeans A pair of combat boots A pair of old sneakers An old scarf A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff) 7 bottles of water A sleeping bag 9 MRE kits Quotes: “Cross your fingers.” Aspiration: To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into.

Adelram Drax Adelram a déplacé le Githkin dans ses bras et les a lâché les pieds d'abord sur le sol. Avec sa main maintenant libre, il pointait sur le guerrier en métal. "Tuez ce rebelle." Il parlait simplement et clairement, se faisant facilement comprendre à moins que l'intelligence stellaire de ses subordonnés. Avec Shplorn encore dans son bras gauche, il a fait sa main pointue dans une paume plate. Le blaster plasma dans la main du guerrier était l'un de calibre considérablement plus élevé que le reste des armes de petit calibre des forces rebelles. En tant que tel, Adelram a décidé qu'il serait utile de placer un bouclier énergétique de base derrière lui pour couvrir sa retraite. Il n'avait aucun intérêt à combattre le guerrier rebelle, même si Adelram a calculé la plus grande chance du guerrier d'être un soldat de haut rang dans l'ensemble rebelle. Mais ce n'était pas sa mission. Le guerrier était prêt à se battre pour sauver Shplorn, ce qui signifie que Shlporn était de plus en plus important pour Drax. Il retenait son otage d'une main, se retournait rapidement et étendait son bras loin derrière lui, comme s'il faisait un bras raide très impraticable. Un autre pouls, et un bouclier d'énergie flottaient derrière lui. Il a commencé à courir une fois de plus, et s'il rencontrait d'autres insurgés ennemis, il tenterait d'esquiver autour d'eux. Il aurait dû prendre un bref moment une fois qu'il est revenu à Ruthalia pour recharger son énergie ainsi il était pleine capacité dans la bataille à venir.

Name: GD-002-17 Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath Race: Android/Robot Age: 7 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: "Male" Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form. Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints. His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder. In The Mind Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view. When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords. Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like. Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike. Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up. Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission. Where They’ve Been History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax. When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin. He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him. Talents: Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down. Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons. He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander. He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum. He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent. Hindrances: He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck. If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited. Powers: Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry. Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain. Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position. Equipment: Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers. One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies. Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time. And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering. He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air. Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out. Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision. Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets. Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload. Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired. Bonus Round Quotes: "..." "The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%." "..." Theme Song: i dunno Aspiration: File not found. "Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure. "The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun. "Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight. "This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply." The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor. The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail. Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking. Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up. Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind. When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere. If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed. He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level.

Michael Sonnen Devant le Githkin, Michael avait sciemment souri à la futilité de tout cela. La balle n'avait rien fait, beaucoup moins qu'il ne l'avait pensé, mais elle n'avait fait que prouver son intuition. Les Githkins étaient trop monstrueux pour combattre, Galatect était trop pieuse pour même penser à se rebeller contre. Et même, avec toute cette peur, ce désespoir et cette mort certaine, Michael avait réussi un sourire. Peu de temps après, il est mort. La guerre autour de lui ne lui permettrait pas un moment de paix et maintenant, pas plus que son opposition. Il s'est moqué de la créature démoniaque, regardant la seule marque qu'il avait infligée à la bête avec mépris. "Approchez-le", murmura-t-il de façon toujours si calme; il appela sa fureur de la fosse de sa culpabilité. "Allez!" Il cria ensuite, demandant à la créature de se charger d'un geste de déchirement. "Allez,nnnn!" Il recule comme il l'a fait, gardant l'arme à ses côtés et le pioche confortablement en main. Si je vous rencontre maintenant, Courtney... Si tu cherches... que tu sauras que j'ai fait tout ce qui était en mon pouvoir pour te rembourser pour t'avoir manqué. Je ne mourrai pas sans en avoir pris au moins un avec moi. Je le regarderai dans les yeux quand je lui ferai un sourire sur le visage. Michael regarda son environnement pour trouver quelque chose qui pouvait l'aider; son esprit était trop occupé pour trouver quelque chose de digne. Il l'a trouvé consumé dans cette guerre. Rempli d'adrénaline. Tout est arrivé un peu plus lentement, mais rien de tout ça ne semblait avoir de sens pour lui. C'était jusqu'à ce que le Githkin regardât de nouveau dans ses yeux noirs. Ses yeux... Je vais viser ses putains d'yeux! Je dois rester en vie assez longtemps pour une ouverture. C'est fou de penser à combattre ce monstre, mais je n'ai pas le choix.

Name: Michael Sonnen. Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother). Race: Human. Age: 20. Ethnicity: African American. Gender: Male. Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye. Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In The Mind Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious. Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions. Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal. Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different. Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs. Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where They’ve Been History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think, This isn't right... Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought. Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off. His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered. "Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-" It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself. Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often. Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it? Powers: None. Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bonus Round Quotes: "We fight for today!" Theme Song: Throne Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Red Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung. Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently. Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets. Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes. Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty. "Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you." She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that. By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic. His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on. Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening. Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns. "Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself.

avec : L'aide Ses doigts battaient légèrement sur le dessus du bureau alors que ses yeux continuaient à regarder les moniteurs qui affichaient les différents états de troubles dans les zones clés. Elle ne voulait pas manquer un moment ou une occasion si cela pouvait être aidé ainsi lorsque le général Drax a cassé la porte causant des dommages substantiels, elle s'est contentée de soupirer et de secouer la tête. Ce robot allait être la cause de maux de tête graves plus loin dans la ligne. S'est réjouie que ses ordres soient exécutés rapidement et efficacement, Ruth a commencé à se détendre et a commencé à battre un battement; un, deux, deux, trois, quatre et cinq. Personne ne devrait être aussi détendu dans une telle situation, mais Ruthalia l'était. La seule chose qui pourrait rendre ce moment plus relaxant était si elle avait une ligne de gifles qui s'alignent et qui attendent de sentir la présence gracieuse de sa main sur leur peau à pleine vitesse. On pourrait rêver. Elle fut bientôt sortie de sa rêverie par la voix de l'assistant craintif. Fabuleux. Pour avoir accompli votre travail si efficacement, vous ne serez pas la prochaine personne que je gifle aujourd'hui! Tant mieux pour vous. » Elle a donné un sourire éblouissant, quoique fou, avant qu'elle continue son rythme de tambour. Hélas, il a été de courte durée vécu comme le plus ressentiment des deux assistants esquivé dans peu de temps après qu'elle avait commencé. Mais bien sûr! C'est précisément la raison pour laquelle ces mesures sont en place. Mais merci d'avoir respecté les règlements. Vous avez également reçu une gifle-monnaie pendant un court laps de temps. Félicitations! Vous l'avez mérité.Le fait que le second assistant s'était tellement fermement collé aux directives l'a placé dans une lumière un peu moins sombre que Ruth l'avait déjà mis. Elle a décidé d'appeler le craintif Glen et le vexant Coco. Équipe Glen Coco. Vous allez Glen Coco.

Name: Ruthalia Tro’liant Hert’yas Morphento Nickname/Alias: Ruth, ThinkTank, Lady Regional, RM Race: Iki'lek Age: I’ve lived more years than you could possibly ever count, maggot. Ethnicity: Iki'lek Hybrid Gender: Gender is such a primitive thing, but I do have a fondness for the feminine attire your world has. So let’s go with female, for now. Appearance: Ruth has two main appearances that you will see. Her public face is one that you want to give attention to yet makes you feel the need to divert your gaze at the same time as it draws you in. She opts for pale skin, sprinkled with freckles over its entirety. Her body stretches out to a modest 5’8” without the enhancements of high heels. (“These spectacular extensions for your lower appendages are absolutely marvellous!”) Her body type is that of womanly but well taken care of. When you can have any human body that you choose, why wouldn’t you give yourself what you feel is the most desirable body available? Her eyes are generally a dark hazel shade with a very prominent black halo around the iris. Her golden, copper brown hair reaches just below her shoulders and is generally styled in some manner befitting those in the Business profession on Earth. She is a fan of feminine make-up products and has become very proficient in applying it to her face and nails. She has a mass array of different colours that suit her preferred skin tone and hair colour. The second, and most natural, of Ruth’s appearances is not a common sight. Her race has skin that is silvery grey in colour that has a shimmering light to it. Her torso closely resembles that of a human in the sense that it holds the appendages and head together and contains almost all the vital organs. There are not just four appendages, there are fourteen. She has four arms, two at the same area as human arms and then a secondary pair sitting beneath those, protruding from the torso sides. The arms are very similar to human arms but are slightly longer, and there are six fingers on each hand with a thumb making it seven total. He does not have legs or feet, instead she has ten tendrils (see what I did there? I’m so funny…) much like an octopus or squid would have but these are full of muscle and allow her to move at high speeds and very erratically. Her head is slightly more difficult to describe. If you imagine a generic Martian to a human you think of a bulbous upper head, longer chin area and giant, black, and bulbous eyes that are almost as big as the entire head. Well the bulbous upper half is similar to what Iki’lek heads look like. It reaches further out to the back of the cranium though, but not by much. The lower face is longer and more drawn out than a human but not quite as much as a Martian face. Both halves of the race have no nose, instead they have slits much like a snake would. The Brawn half have a large, gaping maw that allows them to bite their targets and to yell out of. The Brain half have no mouth as they communicate telepathically. For Ruth, as she is a hybrid, does not look quite like the two single halves of the Iki’lek race. The Brawn half have smaller, more protruding eyes that face forward and have near tunnel vision while the Brain half have larger and less centralised eyes that rest closer to the sides of the skull to allow them to have a far wider range of vision. Ruth, however, has larger bulbous eyes that are slightly to the sides while still allowing her to see forward only if she so wishes thanks to her secondary set of eyelids which she can use as blinders. Her eyes aren’t black however, they are a deep, dark purple colour and her mouth is not quite as large as her Brawny brethren. She could bite onto you but probably wouldn’t be able to swallow your entire head like they could. The final noteworthy marking of her alien appearance is that of the markings across her entire body. Her head, face, neck and spinal cord (at least what you can see of it) have sky blue markings, like that of a calligraphy pen being dragged across a piece of paper to create weaving lines that crossover and connect like a fluid tapestry. The rest of her body that you could see (basically just her arms at this point) are covered in disjointed and jagged looking maroon coloured markings. They are erratic and seem to have no pattern to them at all. Both of these markings look almost as though they are not actually on the skin, almost like they are floating on the surface of water and are in constant motion. This race has no hair on their body and, their tendrils stretched out fully, stand at around 6’5” in length from head to… toe? Clothing: When in human form, Ruth can be found in a variety of business attire. Be it knee length pencil skirts with fitted blouses and a blazer, or perhaps she felt summery and is merely wearing an A-line skirt with a short sleeved gypsy top with a light jacket? She wears a large variety of clothing as she is so in love with it. She can also be seen in dresses, trousers, suits, shorts; basically everything at one point or another. She also will always be in high heels. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. She will be wearing them even when she’s kicking your ass. When she is not in her human form, Ruth’s alien body is covered in an extremely durable, high density but lightweight battle suit. It covers her entire torso and chest area but leaves her arms exposed from the shoulder areas down. Her tendrils are entirely covered and the material has strong grippers within the material that allow her to walk on any solid surface. Her hands, all four of them, wear different gloves with varying abilities which will be outlined later. The material is a light silvery grey shimmering material that closely resembles the natural skin tone so it almost looks as if she is wearing nothing and that her markings stop at her shoulders and neck area. Personality: Ruth is a very, very, very complex individual who is, technically, not actually an individual. Her core personality is strong, cool-headed, independent, manipulative, coercive, quick thinking, highly frickin' intelligent, tactical, charismatic and determined. She is one force of a woman and if you should find yourself in her path? Be prepared to be knocked the hell down and flattened beneath her immense force of presence. She is not a person to be trifled with and she has the capability to make your life, quite literally, a living hell should she deem it productive for her needs and wants. This is the Brainy variant that you will most commonly hear about when people talk about the Regional Manager. However, there is more than meets the eye with Ruth and it is because of this special trait of hers that she keeps her true face away from the public. She prefers to do her dealings with people from a distance but when left with no other alternative, she will get her hands dirty. This is where the rest of Ruth’s mind comes out to play. She suffers from having a divided mind and as such she has a second personality that brings out the brawn in our villainous Regional Manager. This side of her has the ability to have a very murderous streak and I do mean that literally. If you threaten her or really push her to the brink of her patience and piss her off? Say hello to the afterlife or whatever the hell it is you believe in because you can be fairly certain you will never see this world again. (Unless the glorious leader GM decides that you get to live. Spoil sport.) It is an emotionally unstable personality that can sometimes find it difficult to be reasonable. When in this state of mind, Ruth is very one track minded in the sense that she wishes to destroy you in every single way imaginable and possible. She will make you suffer ten times over and then have you begging for your death. Likes: Feminine Attire Books Stationary Crushing her enemies beneath her feet Getting her own way Slapping people across the face (“How you humans manage to stop yourselves from doing it more often is beyond me!”) Breaking bones Winning arguments Dislikes: Not getting her own way Crushing her enemies between her fingers Ruined books People stealing her stationary Going more than an hour without slapping someone across the face Getting blood on her designer clothing Power Rangers Cats Fears: Losing her status Failing to reach her aspiration Having her mind altered unwillingly Quirks: She clicks her tongue at her subordinates in moments of impatience, her fingers often drum on any hard surface when she is waiting, her eyes narrow when she is judging someone/something and she takes a long, deep breath when she is about to go all Iki’lek on your backside. History: Ruth’s race is one of the dozens of alien species that are part of the conglomerate known as Galatec. It was after Galatec began spreading themselves into dozens of planets that the Iki’lek’s truly realised they were split so purely down the middle in terms of what they can do. So the Brains began to work on finding a way to create the perfect Iki’lek. They used whatever resources became available to them as Galatec spread throughout the galaxy to create the perfect hybrid of the two halves of their race. Ruth was not the first iteration of this hybrid however. Oooh no no no, she was definitely not the first. She was the 42nd attempt and she was a complete accident, at least according to the scientists that created her. That was a long, long time ago so the specifics of it have all been compartmentalised in her mind and isn’t something she likes to dwell on too much. The experiments at that time of her life were hard and unforgiving but they allowed her to discover the powers and abilities that she has now. She was only reluctantly let go by the Iki’lek scientists when they were forced to explain what they were working on to the other alien species that also made up Galatec. It was when she was discovered that Galatec chose to put her through various training regimens to master control over her excessive strengths and courses for business and management due to her increased intelligence. During her rigorous physical training and exhausting mental training it was discovered that Ruth had a very split personality. She was two entirely different people depending on what she was focusing on at the time. This could become a problem for Ruth if she ever completely loses control over herself. It was a stressful time for her as she worked to become the “woman” that she is now. It was during high stress levels and the will to escape the constant work and training that Ruth discovered her ability to shapeshift. She wanted to be someone else and to get away without someone chasing after her. It took her some getting used to but she soon figured she could make herself look like anyone and anything so long as she focused on it in her mind firmly enough and essentially willed herself to be them. She took this opportunity to show Galatec she was useful for more than just her mind and muscles. They began using her to help settle new planets into their phase of “life”. As she could make herself look like one of the home planet species they figured it would be more appealing to hear from a “local” to how wonderful Galatec could be! Galatec gave her the regional management position on New Earth the moment that they set foot on it. She has been there since the beginning and has been working hard to make everything run as smoothly as possible for Galatec. Talents: Talking, feats if brute strength, crushing things, screwing with people’s minds via telepathy, hard worker, doesn’t give in easily, she doesn’t know when to quit in a fight. Hindrances: Dealing with animals, running when she’s not wearing heels in human form, unable to swim, cannot deal with seriously high pitched noises. Powers: Shapeshifting – As far as she knows, she is the only Iki’lek hybrid in existence so she is unsure if this shapeshifting ability is due to her hybrid nature or because of the accident that caused her creation. She can change her entire appearance to anything that she wishes on an organic level but she cannot impersonate an existing person. Her appearances are always an amalgamation of features she has seen on various people/images etc. Pain Inducement – Can induce pain, psychic torture through a mental link from about 10 feet away and the pain is much stronger when she is touching you. Force-Field Generation – Can create telekinetic barriers to block various power attacks and physical weapons. (I won’t abuse this and will always let the GM decide whether or not the barrier does/can block attacks etc.) Telepathy – Is able to read the minds of those around herself. She finds it easier to read the minds of those she has physical contact with but can read minds fairly well within the same room, however she is not limited to just this distance. She can read minds up to a 20 feet radius but the further the subject is to the edges of her zone, the less she can read clearly. Psychometry – The ability to read the past of a non-sentient object through touch. She can see the past 24 hours of an object. Can get a sense for who has touched/used/been around various items/rooms. Brute Strength – Can lift 20x her own weight Telekinesis – Control objects with one's mind. Cannot move anything larger than a car door. Equipment: Power Gloves – Four that look identical but each have their own powers. (They’re pretty damn basic weapons in the grander scheme of things. But considering the powers she has, I didn’t want to go OTT.) Heat Glove – Generates a high temperature on impact with a surface/person. Cold Glove – Generates a low temperature on impact with a surface/person. Vibro Glove – Causes vibrations on impact with a surface/person. Smoke Glove – Allows a smoke cloud to be generated when a small button is pressed. Otherwise it is just an armoured glove that hits a tiny bit harder than a plain old fist. Quotes: “Maggot.” “Take that filth out of my sight before I crush you.” “Watch. My. Lips.” Theme Song: This. :) Aspiration: Complete and utter domination of everything. The setting sun beamed into the executive office space through the opened glass balcony doors. Floor to roof windows matched the doors and made the entire wall seem as though it weren’t even there. A large leather office chair sat at a magnificent mahogany desk. The chair was facing out towards the balcony that was situated right behind it. A small, balding and fairly plump human male was standing in front of the desk, his hands wringing a very sweaty handkerchief out onto his highly polished black shoes. ”I-I… I can only apo-apolo-apologise L-l-lady Re-regional…” The man stumbled over his words as they tumbled from his mouth. The sound of drumming nails on leather came from the office chair that echoed around the now deathly silent room. The chair silently swivelled around to expose its occupant. The drumming abruptly stopped. Ruthalia Morphento, Regional Manager of Galatec on New Earth, sat upon her throne and exuded importance without making a motion or a sound. Her hair was bundled upon her head in a sleek bun that made her face look more severe than usual. Her cherry red lips were pursed with irritation and her brow may not have showed a single frown line but there was most definitely a scowl heading towards the poor man before her. “Apologies are for the pathetic. Are you one of the pathetic, Mr Grant? Don’t answer that.” Mr Grant gulped back his answer, his mouth hanging open until the moment that Ruth swiftly stood from her chair and began to walk around her desk. Her Jimmy Choo’s clicked on the marble flooring with each step until she stopped before the trembling form that was Mr Grant. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? Come, let us stand on the balcony.” She did not wait for a response before she clicked her way out of the office. The balcony was rimmed with waist high, black coloured, steel edged, frosted glass fencing. The sun was low enough that the shadows of the other high rise buildings and skyscrapers were now casting shadows across the building. Mr Grant hurried behind Ruth and huffed as he reached the fence. He swallowed hard and saw how high from the ground they currently were, 55 stories from the ground. “Let me explain what is going to happen, Mr Grant.” Hands clasped in front of Ruth as she rested them on the fence. She glanced to her right, watching Mr Grant as he puffed and panted. “You are going to pay for the mistakes you have made. You are going to thank me for this outcome and be grateful that worse didn’t happen to you.” Her entire body turned towards Mr Grant and a very sweet, unsettling smile spread across her face. ”Thank you for making this decision so easy to make, Mr Grant. I wish you all the best.” Ruth’s right hand sprung forward and grabbed Mr Grant by the neck. He coughed and spluttered, his hands grasping at her delicate looking arm. His face began to turn red when she lifted him from the ground, his stubby legs dangled as she rose his body higher than the topmost edge of the balcony edging. ”Do enjoy your complimentary skydiving lesson, Mr Grant. Consider it part of your severance package.” One fluid swing of her arm and Mr Grant was no longer on the 55th floor. An echoing yell of despair and utter terror rang out and lessened to the smallest whisper before long. Ruth made her way back into her office, closing the glass doors behind herself before settling behind her desk once more. A small yawn left her lips before she looked towards the door of her office. “Please send in my 4 o’clock.” Her thought rang out and the buzzer to her door rang out before the door opened to allow her next appointment to enter. A nervous, bespectacled woman shuffled in and looked around the room. There were no other exits from this office and the fear that spread over the woman’s face made Ruth’s face erupt into an ecstatic smile. “Please take a seat, Mrs Grant.”

Gajoon. Mable a regardé son manager au visage, son teint bouffé est revenu à la normale. "Je vais bien, tout va bien. Ce n'était qu'un fan." Mable a clignoté un sourire denté et lui a donné un pouce. "Et si au lieu d'enfiler ton pantalon, tu m'aidais à commencer ce spectacle? La foule attend depuis assez longtemps, n'est-ce pas? » Elle a dit. En vérité, elle voulait faire passer le concert le plus tôt possible, tant qu'elle était là, elle était dans une cage. Quelque chose allait arriver dans cette ville pour une fois, et elle n'allait pas manquer ça. "Les choses sont déjà prêtes, n'est-ce pas? Allez.

Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist) Nickname/Alias: Mable Race: Valiant Age: 20 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: Female Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples. Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank. Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts. In The Mind Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them. Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause. Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets. Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone. Fears: Failure, gloomy moods. Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning. Where They’ve Been History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet. She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec. Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside. Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability. Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire. Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out. Equipment: Morpher?? Bonus Round Quotes: "Peace and Love!" Theme Song: N/A Aspiration: Love and Peace! It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: ?? Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points. Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact. Powers: ?? Zords: Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd. This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!" She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough. Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming. As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were. The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away. "Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim. After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message. 'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.' As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home.

Les séquences de morphage avaient été terminées, laissant Samara un peu plus soulagée qu'auparavant. C'était un mauvais moment pour reculer maintenant, mais leur hésitation était presque inexistante. Ils étaient aussi prêts qu'ils allaient l'être. Samara a offert un bref clin d'œil à Clémentine pour remercier pour sa volonté de donner le message à Michael. Enfin, les quatre avaient couru vers le tunnel ouvert pour venir à l'aide de Michael, laissant John et elle seule. Alors qu'elle se tournait vers lui maintenant, son tremblement n'était pas une surprise. En fait, c'était réciproque. Samara était aussi nerveuse qu'il l'était, mais elle réussissait à peine à le garder mieux que son homologue. Eh bien, nous savions que le pouvoir pouvait être un problème, mais nous n'aurions pas pu deviner que nous aurions besoin de l'utiliser à nouveau si tôt. Tous nos jetons étaient sur eux voyant la lumière dans notre lutte. Elle avait tenu compte, avec confiance, du fait que l'obtention d'au moins cinq personnes serait quelque chose que son système était facilement capable de gérer. Le problème était qu'ils n'ont pas tenu compte de la possibilité d'une attaque rebelle, et à quelle vitesse ils auraient besoin pour mettre cette nouvelle équipe dans une position importante dès que possible. Ça commençait à être une mauvaise journée. Comme Jean avait choisi de s'en tenir à la pensée, Samara se tourna vers son talon et retourna à son ordinateur. Son esprit courait avec les idées limitées qu'elle pouvait considérer à un moment comme celui-ci. Tirer de la puissance à l'intérieur des capteurs pourrait leur donner un coup de pouce, mais la capacité de traverser les couches de roche avec son radar était trop précieuse. Avec ce système, ils pouvaient suivre le groupe même sans l'aide des caméras, et ils avaient besoin de savoir où l'équipe serait en tout temps. Sans oublier que c'était le moyen direct de les verrouiller pour le transport. Pas de bon pour enlever les capteurs pour transporter ce qu'ils ne pouvaient facilement cibler sans eux. Mauvaise idée. C'était vraiment, vraiment commencer à être une mauvaise journée. Elle s'est retournée une fois que John a mentionné un plan à l'esprit, un qu'il n'a pas apprécié et un qu'il a deviné qu'elle ne le ferait pas non plus. Samara avait une imagination, et dans cette imagination étaient des choses horribles que John pouvait suggérer qu'ils faisaient. Sans s'attarder sur les possibilités, elle s'acierait pour ce qui allait être vrai, et nécessaire pour aider les autres. Je n'ai pas aimé la façon dont Jonas nous a parlé. Je n'ai pas aimé comment nous ne pouvions pas obtenir une source d'énergie plus forte, ou une unité de traitement plus rapide pour le RDS. Je n'aime pas beaucoup de choses John, mais nous avons fait ce que nous pouvions. Il n'y a aucun moyen de rendre compte de toutes les possibilités, ou de toutes les menaces. Donc, si nous les mettons dans le feu en notre nom, nous devons être prêts à faire tout ce que nous pouvons pour les aider, même si cela signifie les rejoindre dans le feu. Samara a jeté un coup d'œil au tunnel ouvert, voulant deviner avant que John ne l'accompagne. Quoi, nous obtenons de l'Oranium et l'utilisons comme une source d'énergie alors que les mains de Galatec sont pleines? Ou notre travail n'est-il pas si facile?

Samara Morgan Name - Samara Morgan Nickname/Alias - N/A Race - Human Age - 23 Ethnicity - African-American Gender - Female Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis. Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend. In The Mind Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends. She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest. However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood. Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right. Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously. Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames. Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her. Where They’ve Been History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background. One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed. It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold. It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking. The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way. Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising. Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture. Powers - N/A Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone. Bonus Round Quotes - No. Theme Song - Never. Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary.

Clementine sentit une ruée d'information couler à travers son esprit, lui montrant ce qu'elle pouvait être capable dans la combinaison de pouvoir. Notons particulièrement sa capacité à produire un flash aveuglant, ainsi qu'une lance faite de lumière. Toutefois, faute de confiance, elle a réussi à trouver l'arme à feu qu'elle portait à sa ceinture, une arme défensive qui était courte et facile à manipuler. Elle l'a sentie dans ses paumes, et bien qu'elle n'ait jamais tenu ni tiré d'arme dans sa vie, son bras facile à manier l'a rassurée. Elle a baissé les bras avec les deux mains tenant l'arme, pointé au sol et incliné légèrement d'elle-même dans une position pseudo-sûre, pseudo-prête. Elle a cherché Jonah pour diriger le chemin.

Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title? Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker Race: Humany Human of Humaness Age: 21 Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different. Gender: Male Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases. Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth. In The Mind Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need. Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things. Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others. Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black. Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can. Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts. Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own. Where They’ve Been History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens. Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free. After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously. It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him. Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things. Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger. Powers: N to the A biatch. Equipment: Blue Photon Morpher Red-Light-Emitting Necklace Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools. Ripped up miner clothes. Bonus Round Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!" Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Blue Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying. Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through. Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means. Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it.

UN COLLAB ENTRE WADE WILSON ET Lieu: Dumas Mines Interagir avec: The Twins, Strange Voice In His Head Jackson regarda autour de lui, confus. Qu'est-ce que cette voix lui parlait? Il a vu les Githkins travailler actuellement pour réparer la fuite de gaz, mais il était impossible de le dire avec ces visages sans bouche. Secouant la tête, il a essayé de se rassurer que tout allait bien - il travaillait pour Galatec, la vie était géniale! Avec une perkiness fraîchement récupérée, il a sauté de la perceuse, se dirigeant à nouveau vers les jumeaux. Hé, tu as besoin d'aide? Les jumeaux regardèrent Jackson pendant qu'il parlait, bien que Shawnee s'attardât un peu plus longtemps pendant que Sarah retournait immédiatement à son travail. J'apprécie, mais je pense qu'on s'en est occupé, a dit Shawnee d'une voix enroulée. Les deux avaient communiqué entre eux toute la journée et ont dû crier sur les moteurs du foreur Jackson. C'était naturel qu'ils soient un peu enroués. Jackson, écoute-moi, il y avait encore cette voix. Jackson se sentait coupable qu'il était celui qui avait fait les filles enroulées - ou, du moins, la machine qu'il distribuait - mais souriait néanmoins à eux. Très bien. Amusez-vous! » Son œil secoua et sa voix trembla légèrement tandis que sa pression pour ignorer la voix continua, mais réussit à revenir à la perceuse sans devenir fou. « Va-t'en, tu n'es pas réel! » pensa-t-il, frustré. Il s'appuya contre la machine qu'on lui avait assignée, s'emparant de sa bouteille d'eau et en prenant une grosse gorgée, s'accrochant au plastique avec les mains tremblantes. L'équipe de nettoyage a fini dès que Jackson avait pris une grosse perruque de son eau. Le chef de l'équipage, un grand homme noir imposant, se tourna vers Jackson et parla dans un baryton profond. C'est fini ici, fiston. Content que tu ne t'es pas soufflé au royaume. C'était très proche. Une grande poche de gaz, je vous le dis. Nous allons mettre ceci à une bonne utilisation des maisons de chauffage. L'homme tape sa machine d'aspiration en parlant, un grand dispositif qui ressemblait à une croix entre un aspirateur et un collisionneur de hadron. C'est là que Githkin a parlé. Travail! Oh, pas de délire. Plus tard, l'équipe de nettoyage a décollé. Le garçon avait été très intrigué pendant que l'homme parlait, et lui dire adieu une fois que le Githkin était assez gentil pour leur rappeler ce qu'ils faisaient. Il a remonté sur la perceuse, se remettre au travail et penser des pensées heureuses, en espérant qu'il garderait cette voix à portée de main. Non, il ne pouvait même pas y penser. Il travaillait avec Galatec et a dû utiliser la perceuse! Oui, c'était génial. Pas de voix, pas de mal, juste un grand jour. Son esprit a vite réfléchi à la façon dont la voix de Shawnee était enroulée, et son sourcil s'est sillonné, mais il savait qu'il devait continuer à travailler. Après tout, qui ne pouvait pas aimer travailler pour des gens aussi grands comme Galatec?

Name: Jackson Trent Nickname/Alias: Jack, sex on a stick (imo). Race: Human Age: 25 Ethnicity: Canadian, though no one would know what that means. Gender: Male Appearance: . |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about. Clothing: Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly. Personality: Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills. Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives. Likes: The Power Rangers White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea. The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost. Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before. Protecting people The greater good Dislikes: Galatec His job Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control His parents being under Galatec’s influence Fears: Slipping back under Galatec’s control Not being able to find the Power Rangers Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents Galatec defeating the Power Rangers Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them Dying on the job Quirks: He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right? History: Freedom. That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly. Until the Power Rangers. At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”. That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth... Talents: Extremely skilled with a tomahawk Animalistic instincts & reflexes Can see multiple approaches to a problem Agile on his feet A linear understanding of science Apparently quite the singer Hindrances: His perpetual mood swings He always sees the good in people Can sometimes be quick to judge Not exactly the one to sugar coat things His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people Powers: None. Zero. Nil. Equipment: An old mining torch A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day 10 shirts 4 pairs of jeans A pair of combat boots A pair of old sneakers An old scarf A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff) 7 bottles of water A sleeping bag 9 MRE kits Quotes: “Cross your fingers.” Aspiration: To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into.

Les deux githkines ordinaires se sont immédiatement déplacés pour attaquer l'insurgé rebelle, comme Drax l'avait ordonné, tandis que l'élite se tenait en arrière et observait, étant d'un moule plus intelligent que ses frères. Ils se chargeaient de l'abandon imprudent, des poings droits et serrés, prêts à frapper à travers le corps de l'homme et à sortir de l'autre bout. Mais ce n'est pas ce qui s'est passé. L'homme a craqué deux coups, un pour chacun. Plasma a tiré dans l'air et est entré en collision avec les deux githkines droit sur leur visage, les forçant à s'effondrer sur le sol et à fondre dans la suie génétique brute qui les a créés. Il est clair que cet homme était un crack-shot, et ne doit pas être sous-estimé. "Bon choix, rouillé." Il a tiré un autre coup, celui-ci à Drax, mais le boulon plasma avait été intercepté par quelque chose d'autre. La githkine d'élite a libéré une sorte de bouclier métallique et l'a utilisé pour bloquer Drax. Le plasma a mangé et détruit le bouclier, mais il n'a même pas eu la chance d'entrer en contact avec les propres défenses de Drax. Les élites étaient vraiment un atout fantastique. Alors que Drax se déplaçait à nouveau, KT a fait un saut en courant dans les airs et a engagé le rebelle. À ce moment-là, Drax ne les avait plus sur ses capteurs, mais il pouvait distinguer l'homme qui criait : « Nous allons vous sauver, commandant! » Vers un autre coin, Drax s'est retrouvé face à face avec dix membres de la Division Alpha. Ceux-ci ne seraient pas à éviter facilement il semblerait, comme ils avaient installé un bloc de route. Un champ d'énergie rouge semi-translucide a bloqué le chemin de Drax. Deux des rebelles se tenaient derrière le champ, exploitant un projecteur de Galatec Energy Wall V.3.1 (probablement volé dans cette attaque), tandis que les huit autres se tenaient devant le champ, chacun brandissant une arme différente. Ils ont tous regardé le général robotisé avec une pure haine, prêt à s'engager. "Roger cela, madame," répondit le nouveau Christianed Coco alors que ses doigts se tapaient aux claviers autour de sa station. Ruth pouvait voir les rebelles auxquels il faisait référence sur les caméras, en montant Hallway 1B et en arrondissant le coin. Ils se rapprochaient dangereusement du bureau, n'est-ce pas? Huit d'entre eux étaient seulement à environ 50 pieds de la porte quand Coco a initié les mesures de sécurité, et ils ont trouvé leur tiret fou soudainement, et douloureusement, arrêté. Un mur d'énergie rouge projeté devant le groupe, et les deux premiers sont entrés directement en collision avec le nouvel obstacle. Ils se sont rétractés dans la douleur, à la fois de l'arrêt soudain de bludgeon et de la chaleur de mer qui provenait d'un mur laser dur. Seule une mère pouvait aimer ces visages, une fois qu'ils avaient fini de faire des cicatrices. Les autres ont pu s'arrêter avant de frapper le mur, mais personne n'a pu échapper au piège à mesure qu'un deuxième mur apparaissait derrière eux. Ils étaient enfermés. "Les terroristes ont été confinés, Mlle Ruth," a dit Glen, un soupçon de peur dans sa voix. "Comment devrions-nous, euh, procéder?" Il y avait beaucoup d'options, bien sûr. Une commande comprimait les murs laser ensemble. Un autre électrifierait le plancher, à la fois dans des conditions létales et non létales. Les tourelles automatisées pourraient y mettre plus de trous que le fromage suisse. Puis, bien sûr, il y avait toujours la possibilité de les approcher en personne de l'autre côté de la cage. Ruth possédait une technologie qui lui permettrait de passer à travers les murs d'énergie sans entrave, si elle était si inclinée. Ah, des choix. La girouette laissa sortir un rugissement de fureur et se chargea vers l'avant, frappant le wagon de côté avec seulement une quantité symbolique d'effort. Sur ses mains, il y avait des gants griffés, une arme horrible à attaquer. Michael savait que quelque chose de méchant, combiné avec la force et la brutalité de cette créature, signifierait qu'un seul coup est tout ce qu'ils auraient besoin pour mettre fin à sa vie pour de bon. Une fois que le chariot était hors du chemin, il sauta droit pour lui, les yeux rétrécis dans la colère, la main droite tendue et prête à le griffer. Les environs de Michael étaient assez nus. Le wagon a été mis de côté, mais il a déversé une partie de son contenu dans le processus. Deux grands rochers, d'environ la taille d'un ballon de basket-ball chacun, et deux bâtons de blasting sont tombés à portée de main. La zone était ouverte, ce qui permettait de manœuvrer beaucoup de place. Les combats se poursuivirent tout autour de lui, l'escarmouche la plus proche à environ 200 pieds d'avance sur lui. Les combats qu'ils avaient vus sur l'écran étaient à une certaine distance de la pièce où les rangers avaient rencontré Samara et John. Ceux qui avaient été dans les environs avec une certaine connaissance rudimentaire de l'installation auraient peut-être même reconnu que la zone qu'ils quittaient était censée avoir été démolie et fermée il y a des mois. À cause de cela, ils ont dû courir pendant près de cinq minutes avant de faire de réels progrès pour se rapprocher de leur objectif, mais ils ont finalement vu quelque chose qui leur a fait savoir qu'ils se rapprochaient. À un point de passage à quatre sens dans les tunnels, à une trentaine de pieds d'avance, les rangers pouvaient distinguer trois githkines engagées dans la bataille avec six rebelles, bien que ce nombre ait rapidement chuté. Un rebelle à l'arrière utilisait un fusil automatique, et il semblait être le seul capable d'escroquer les créatures avec un succès quelconque. Pendant ce temps, les autres étaient mis de côté, brisés et battus. Tout comme les combats sont apparus, les rangers ont été traités à la belle vue d'une ganterie utilisant un rebelle comme un bouclier humain contre les tirs de fusils. Maintenant, il n'y en avait que trois. « Comme je voudrais obtenir un peu d'oranium, j'ai bien peur que nous n'ayons pas d'équipement capable d'exploiter et de convertir leur puissance en un format utilisable pour le RDS », a commenté John, se tournant vers son bureau personnel. Il a commencé à crypter à travers, jusqu'à ce qu'il a finalement sorti un rouleau de papier et s'est approché de Samara une fois de plus. « S'ils mettent leur vie en danger, je vais devoir faire de même. Je pense que cela a à voir avec ce concept d'honneur de votre espèce? » Il déroulait le papier avant Samara, lui révélant le contenu. C'était un diagnostic biologique complet d'une espèce extraterrestre appelée Voltez, connue pour produire une grande quantité de bioélectricité. "Je peux m'accrocher au générateur pour l'alimenter, et... j'espère que je ne me fais pas frire dans le processus. Je sais, c'est un plan stupide mais c'est tout ce qu'on a." Vroooom vrooooooom la perceuse a continué à rugir, fissurer et déchirer la roche et la pierre. L'ensemble de la machine vibrait presque violemment alors que Jackson continuait à creuser à travers la roche. Après encore quelques minutes de forage, il entendit la voix des jumeaux Sarah et Shawnee, luttant pour crier sur sa machine. "C'est... une grosse chose!" On dirait qu'ils ont fait une bonne découverte. Le Githkin a ordonné à Jackson d'arrêter l'exercice pour qu'ils puissent entendre les filles. Heureusement, il a aussi pu écouter la grande nouvelle! "Nous détectons d'énormes lectures d'énergie! Les longueurs d'onde ressemblent à de l'oranium, mais juste un peu différent. Je ne sais pas ce que c'est, mais c'est gros!" La girouette a hurlé, puis a fait un geste pour que Jackson sorte du foreur. Une fois qu'il l'avait fait, le githkin lui donnait, les filles, et tout le monde un pioche, puis pointait sur une mince veine de minerai les filles avaient été tellement excités. "Dig", il a commandé. Et c'est ce qu'ils ont fait. Woah maman, ça semblait être la charge maternelle de tout l'oranium! Presque tous les rochers que Jackson a arrachés du mur étaient remplis de minerai. Il y avait plus de minerai que de pierre qui sortait! Peut-être qu'ils obtiendraient un bonus de cette découverte, qui sait? Continuez à creuser, Jackson. Tu y es presque. Après trente minutes de fouille intensive, quelque chose a pris l'œil de Jackson. Quelque chose de petit brillait avec un peu de reflet, caché au milieu de la pierre sombre et riche minerai d'oranium. Il ressemblait à une sorte de pierre gemme, ou cristal, de couleur jaune, mais brillant avec une lumière lumineuse et éclairante qui a déplacé sur la surface de la pierre gemme. "Arrête!" Sarah a ordonné de se rapprocher de la découverte de Jackson. Elle a tenu le dispositif de balayage qu'elle avait utilisé et l'a agité devant le bijou jaune. Les relevés d'énergie étaient hors de la carte! "Mouvez-vous", commanda la ceinture, en entrant. Il s'est penché sur ses genoux et a regardé de plus près le petit cristal, inclinant sa tête quiziquement. Au bout d'un moment, il s'est approché avec deux doigts et a saisi le petit artefact. Ce serait, comme il s'est avéré, le dernier acte de la vie de la créature. L'énergie s'est précipitée dans le corps de la ceinture, puis la lumière, le soleil pur, a jailli de tous ses pores. La créature a explosé avec une averse d'étincelles dans un tas de geeks génétiques qui ont éclaboussé le mur en face de la gemme. "Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé?" Shawnee a pleuré, inquiet et effrayé. Les autres mineurs étaient tout aussi confus et effrayés par ce nouveau développement. "Enfiler mon pantalon?" Gajoon demanda incrédulement avec un sourcil surélevé. "Bien, très bien. Vous êtes dans dix ans de toute façon. Les préparatifs sont presque terminés. Faisons juste une soirée à retenir, d'accord?" Et une nuit pour se souvenir que c'était. Une fois que Mable a frappé cette scène, elle a été accueillie par plus de fans qu'elle n'avait jamais eu dans n'importe quel concert dans toute sa carrière. Il devait y avoir des milliers de personnes qui applaudissaient une fois ces lumières allumées et sa présence allumée. Puis la musique a commencé et cette joie est devenue un tollé fou de dévotion. Avec chaque geste, chaque geste, chaque note qu'elle a chanté Mable a incité à crier et à applaudir. C'était suffisant pour réchauffer le cœur... Si la musique n'était pas complètement bidon. Cinquante minutes se sont écoulées et son premier set a été terminé. Il y a eu une brève pause de 2 minutes pendant que les mains de scène réarrangeaient les accessoires et l'équipement de son deuxième set, ce qui incluait la mise en place de projecteurs holographiques et de feux d'artifice pour la grande finale. La grande finale qui lui avait été forcée il y a quelques heures. Cette brève entracte était semblable à d'autres. Elle a une seconde pour reprendre son souffle, prendre de l'eau, se faire accoster par un fan enragé qui veut quelques-uns de ses cheveux, et changer sa tenue. En un rien de temps, elle était de retour sur scène et chantait pour des milliers de personnes. Son deuxième set était à peu près de la même longueur, mais c'était plus dur que le premier set. En partie du fait d'avoir déjà joué sous des lumières chaudes à haute puissance pendant si longtemps, et en partie parce que les chansons étaient plus complexes. Cela dit, elle l'a cloué comme elle l'a toujours fait. Puis le grand point culminant. Le rythme se déplaçait de plus en plus vite, les paroles grimpaient de plus en plus. Les projections holographiques rayonnaient à travers la scène, agissant comme une représentation graphique de tout ce qu'elle chantait. Enfin sur le feu d'artifice final upbeat lancé dans l'atmosphère, explosant dans la forme d'un cœur, accompagné de sa phrase de signature. Paix et amour. La seconde de sa grande finale s'est terminée, l'étape est tombée sombre et les rideaux ont commencé à se refermer. C'était inhabituel. N'a-t-elle pas eu un moment pour s'incliner et s'adresser au public? C'est là que deux personnages en robes sombres se sont précipités sur elle juste hors de la scène. Même s'il faisait sombre, Mable pouvait clairement dire que chacun brandissait un couteau, et la façon dont ils s'inculpaient n'avait pas l'air trop amicale...

Name: Jackson Trent Nickname/Alias: Jack, sex on a stick (imo). Race: Human Age: 25 Ethnicity: Canadian, though no one would know what that means. Gender: Male Appearance: . |height. 6’0” |weight. 176 lbs |hair. brown |eyes. green Though not the most efficient worker in his mine, Jackson is definitely the strongest and most agile. Having to swing a heavy pickaxe all day, coupled with his daily training in his self-made basement, has made him able to lift the heavy tools of a miner with great finesse. This also helps when wielding his greatsword, as he can go for more swift and fluid movements, rather than just be lugging dead weight around. What most people first notice about Jackson, however, is the tired, weary look in his eyes - one of a man burdened by fear and doubt, yet with no reason or understanding of why. There is also another look in his eyes, however, and it is that of a kind, considerate soul, who tries his hardest to support and protect those he holds close to him, even though he may not always show it. It is this kindness, the spark of gold in his eyes, that people are attracted to, and it makes for a good, solid understanding that despite his mood swings, and tendency to say things how they are, Jackson will forever be true to those he cares about. Clothing: Since he’s had to blend in with the other workers in the mine until he finally found his destiny, Jackson hasn’t really adopted much of a clothing style. He can often be seen in plain, un-logoed shirts, ranging from black to white, with 50 (8, actually) Shades of Grey inbetween, paired with plain old denim jeans, and heavy-duty combat boots. All of his clothing is kept in good condition, though, and he’s (fortunately) able to wash them regularly. Personality: Jackson, despite seeming like an optimist, is a down-to-Earth realist. He doesn’t particularly like being too pessimistic, though not so optimistic that he gets people’s hopes up, with the possibility of letting them down. He often surveys the situation in a calm manner, providing his peers with a strategic, thought-out approach. Also, despite being rather strong for someone of his type, he completely hates the idea of someone being classed as the weakest link. Therefore, Jackson includes every single person with him in his approaches to a situation, and exercises all of each person’s skills. Being a man who was once shackled within Galatec’s ideology and idealistic ways has had a toll on Jackson, especially with the painful thought that it might happen again. To believe he was once of enough idiocy to believe that this new dictatorship was all fine, and that Galatec could kiss all of his booboos better is both frightening and sickening to him, and he has tried his hardest to prove to people - despite the fact barely anybody doubts him - that it wasn’t him, and it was just Galatec dragging him along like a dog on a leash. This can sometimes bleed into his handling of situations, causing all his beforehand calm and realistic approach to go down the drain, and sometimes becoming so severe he spirals into a blind rage. Even now and again he has sudden mood swings, be it the same compelling rage, or Galatec’s lighting taking a toll on him. However, he manages to beat all the odds and continue, no matter what obstacles he faces. He also never lets this affect his view on people - everyone is equal, and there will never be a need for labelling one by their skills or limits, simply by good or evil motives. Likes: The Power Rangers White noise - his radio was broken for a few weeks, but he eventually started listening to the static coming from it, and it seemed to calm him, like the waves of the sea. The silent moments that come and go from time to time, where the world seems to slow, and just for one moment, be it a fraction of a second or an entire minute, one can finally find peace where they thought all was lost. Pushing and breaking his limits, and discovering that he can do what he thought impossible before. Protecting people The greater good Dislikes: Galatec His job Being unable to drink publicly without the risk of coming under Galatec’s control His parents being under Galatec’s influence Fears: Slipping back under Galatec’s control Not being able to find the Power Rangers Being unable to save New Earth, especially his parents Galatec defeating the Power Rangers Failing the Rangers, if he ever finds them Dying on the job Quirks: He has a particular, “friendship”, with his tomahawk. Turns out when it’s just you and an old weapon against the world, you start talking to it. It’s not like it talks back to him, so it should be fine, right? History: Freedom. That’s what Jackson was born into. A life before Galatec. One where his mother and father cared about him and actually loved him. Of course, he didn’t know that. His life was just mining rocks, searching for god knows what. Day in, day out, the sound of pickaxes clanging at stone was the norm now. He’d found a few keepsakes down there, one of which looked like a small axe, but never really knew what they were for. Why did people need weapons and all these strange items when they had Galatec? That was the thought planted in his mind, the one he was forced to think constantly. Until the Power Rangers. At first, Jackson was like everyone else - he saw them as nothing more than troublemakers, terrorising the city. But the more and more they expressed their motives and attempted to bring hope to New Earth, the more and more the glimmer of hope that was still embedded in his mind shined through. It got bigger and bigger every day, and he remembered more and more about this once alienated concept - freedom. What was once something he had no clue of was now the very thing he was grasping for, the only thing that mattered for him. His mind was no longer fixated on work, and he was determined to follow suit of the very people that set him free from this faux happiness that was hiding the true world away from everyone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. With no way of actually contacting the Power Rangers, and no safe or guaranteed way that he’d be able to help them, he had to just wait it out. Though, that was harder than first thought. The great pressure hailing down from his parents to get a job with Galatec’s higher-ups, and the growing paranoia that one slip up would eventually lead to him getting caught. Despite this, however, he had to gulp it all down and train, as well as going to his regular job in the mines to remain under the radar and reduce suspicion. Eventually he’d managed to utilise his mining skills to create a makeshift training ground under the house, and then had the difficult job of keeping it a secret from his parents. Luckily for him, they were all “work work work, Galatec is the greatest, work work work”. That seemed to be it for a while, with Jackson training his tomahawk skills and keeping a low profile in the mines, until one day, his life was changed. It was another day of digging at rocks nonchalantly, pitying all the children slaving away, with their labour unbeknownst to them, when he spotted something shimmering on the floor. He quickly pocketed it, and after taking it home and rubbing it clean of all the dirt and grime, he realised what it was - the Prism Morpher. With that, he packed what few things Galatec allowed him to keep from his past, and set off on a journey to find the Power Rangers, and free New Earth... Talents: Extremely skilled with a tomahawk Animalistic instincts & reflexes Can see multiple approaches to a problem Agile on his feet A linear understanding of science Apparently quite the singer Hindrances: His perpetual mood swings He always sees the good in people Can sometimes be quick to judge Not exactly the one to sugar coat things His hate for labelling people as the “runt” or “weakest link/member” can sometimes lead to him overestimating people Powers: None. Zero. Nil. Equipment: An old mining torch A tomahawk that he found whilst mining one day 10 shirts 4 pairs of jeans A pair of combat boots A pair of old sneakers An old scarf A hiking backpack (that holds all his stuff) 7 bottles of water A sleeping bag 9 MRE kits Quotes: “Cross your fingers.” Aspiration: To understand his place, and free everyone from the shackles they’ve been unknowingly clamped into.

Adelram Drax L'ennemi était désespéré de rétablir leur VIP, et évidemment l'objectif de Drax était en conflit direct avec le leur. Tout comme le discours d'Adelram sur le pep avant la bagarre : Votre objectif est en conflit avec le leur, donc l'ennemi doit être neutralisé. En balançant son étirement vers l'arrière, son bouclier projetant la main autour, il se prépara à une explosion d'énergie. Il a pompé quelques impulsions d'énergie supplémentaires dans le bouclier, qui a été rendu évident par les éclairs de lumière et l'opacité croissante de la paroi jaune vif. Shlporn encore dans sa main, Adelram a serré son poing, a donné la parole mentale, et le bouclier a explosé vers l'extérieur vers le mur de bouclier du rebelle. Des éraflures de ce qui ressemblait à de la poussière dorée grouillaient au hasard bien que l'air, et des « ballons » jaunes se poussaient vers l'avant, éclatant dans le ciel ou sur le sol. Mais la majorité de l'explosion était un projectile, en forme de comète avec une longue queue qui a commencé dans ses doigts serrés. Cette vue éblouissante n'a duré qu'une seconde, les stries se sont évanouies et les ballons ont disparu, il ne restait plus que la bombe mortelle. Il serait en collision avec le bouclier d'énergie, endommageant si pas temporairement la baisse. Dans l'un ou l'autre cas, Drax démantelerait son canon à main et tirerait soit sur le bouclier, soit sur les rebelles eux-mêmes. Cinq coups, avant que Drax ne l'ébranle autour de ses doigts (régulant le processus de refroidissement), et après quelques secondes un autre coup ou deux serait une arme pour tirer à nouveau, que Drax serait heureux de tirer sur ses ennemis. L'androïde n'a fait aucune tentative pour protéger Shlporn du feu ennemi, s'il l'a fait de sorte que le directeur comptable était plus vulnérable, espérant dissuader tout tir sauvage à Drax. On l'a peut-être décrit comme un risque, mais Drax a calculé que les rebelles avaient travaillé à cause de leur émotion, qu'ils avaient une passion pour leur cause et qu'ils voulaient « sauver » leur propre peuple plutôt que de les tuer. Il a essayé de profiter de leur faiblesse.

Name: GD-002-17 Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath Race: Android/Robot Age: 7 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: "Male" Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form. Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints. His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder. In The Mind Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view. When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords. Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like. Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike. Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up. Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission. Where They’ve Been History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax. When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin. He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him. Talents: Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down. Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons. He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander. He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum. He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent. Hindrances: He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck. If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited. Powers: Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry. Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain. Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position. Equipment: Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers. One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies. Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time. And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering. He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air. Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out. Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision. Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets. Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload. Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired. Bonus Round Quotes: "..." "The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%." "..." Theme Song: i dunno Aspiration: File not found. "Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure. "The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun. "Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight. "This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply." The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor. The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail. Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking. Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up. Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind. When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere. If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed. He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level.

Comme le dernier acte de Mable dans son concert s'est terminé, elle a laissé un soupir de soulagement. Pour une fois, elle a eu de la difficulté à réussir une performance. Alors qu'elle dansait et chantait, son esprit rappelant les étapes, le timing et les paroles, elle était distrait par le message qu'elle avait reçu de la guirlande silencieuse. Elle avait toujours eu du mal à se concentrer sur quelque chose quand elle voulait tellement autre chose. C'est pourquoi il lui a fallu un moment pour se rendre compte que quelque chose n'allait pas. Les rideaux avaient commencé à fermer, et les lumières avaient été éteintes. Un tel changement de ton ne correspondait pas à un concert pop. Mable regarda rapidement autour de lui pour jauger son environnement, et vit deux figures voilées se diriger vers ses couteaux de tenue. Ses yeux s'élargissaient, et elle se préparait à se défendre. Elle a pensé qu'elle pouvait facilement les enlever, car tout ce qu'ils savaient c'était juste une popstar faible. Mais peut-être qu'elle pourrait garder cette façade un peu plus longtemps... -- Non, dégagez! Mable cria aussi fort qu'une chanteuse entraînée le pouvait, et commença à fuir ses agresseurs. Elle les conduisit vers les rideaux, et se tourna vers eux. Alors qu'ils étaient à une distance saisissante, elle a saisi le rideau derrière elle et l'a balancé, sautant à l'envers en même temps. La scène était dans la vue claire de la foule maintenant, et ici Mable était, sur elle derrière pleurant alors que deux personnes s'attardaient sur elle avec des armes. "Quelqu'un va m'aider, ils vont me tuer!" Mable s'écria, exhibant un sourire dans la foule de fidèles et, pour une fois, de fervents fans.

Name: Marvelous Beloved Love (Don't judge you racist) Nickname/Alias: Mable Race: Valiant Age: 20 Ethnicity: N/A Gender: Female Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples. Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank. Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts. In The Mind Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them. Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause. Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets. Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone. Fears: Failure, gloomy moods. Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning. Where They’ve Been History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet. She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec. Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside. Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability. Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire. Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out. Equipment: Morpher?? Bonus Round Quotes: "Peace and Love!" Theme Song: N/A Aspiration: Love and Peace! It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: ?? Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points. Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact. Powers: ?? Zords: Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd. This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!" She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough. Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming. As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were. The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away. "Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim. After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message. 'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.' As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home.

C'était une expérience surréaliste pour Tommy de marcher à travers les tunnels, sur le chemin de combattre une bande de githkines. Il n'avait jamais tenu d'arme dans sa vie, et maintenant il lisait des manuels d'entraînement sur la façon d'utiliser ce costume de combat extrêmement puissant pour infliger des dégâts massifs. Apparemment, son costume était équipé d'un bouclier spécial, différent du reste. Ce serait comme lancer un Frisbee, Tommy l'aurait en un rien de temps!... Sauf qu'il n'avait jamais jeté de Frisbee non plus. Tommy s'est ébranlé la tête en voyant la guirlande utiliser le rebelle comme bouclier humain. Non, ce n'est tout simplement pas le cas. Il a pris position et a élargi son bouclier, une grande chose ronde qui était assez grande pour couvrir presque tout son corps et avait un peu de fente pour son arme dedans. Il a failli trébucher alors qu'il était surpris par la taille de la chose. C'était l'heure du lancer! "Yo, trou du cul en cercueil! Préparez-vous à être... inapte, violemment et sans cérémonie!» Il a dit, comme il a jeté son bouclier, visant vers le cou de la ceinture en utilisant le rebelle comme un bouclier.

Samara Morgan Name - Samara Morgan Nickname/Alias - N/A Race - Human Age - 23 Ethnicity - African-American Gender - Female Appearance - Neatness is always the forefront of Samara’s appearance. She stands at 5’9 with long, dark and wavy hair that flows slightly past her shoulders and light-brown eyes to accompany it. Her day-to-day outfits are inconsistent and depend entirely on her mood, but the scent of shampoo and lotion mixed together to make a sweet fragrance is rarely amiss from her person, making her scent stimulating and pleasant. Her skin is the color of caramel with a healthy and attractive sheen, making her appear as soft as her body feels. There is little to no sign of having ever gone through physically-intensive job, yet in spite of that she has more muscle in her legs than her arms thanks to the hobby of jogging and hitting a backboard for tennis. Clothing - Samara does not have a preferential style of clothing or even color, able to go from casual jeans and t-shirt on Monday, to a red carpet premiere-style dress on Tuesday. Since her work often demands an office-girl type of dress, outside of work she can typically be seen in basic jeans ranging from faded to dark, t-shirts of various colors, and long-sleeve form-fitting shirts. Her style has no real bias; whatever is in her reach when she prepares to leave in the morning, she will take it. No ‘trend’ sets her, she sets a trend. In The Mind Personality - Samara is an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type of girl who doesn’t believe in wasting her day. If not passing the time by reading stories or listening to music, she is at work going beyond the necessary quota in order to impress her superiors. Because of this, some might brand her a perfectionist, and in some ways they would be right: Samara doesn’t enjoy failure, or losing. She is encouraging to others and tries to find the best qualities in them, believing that everyone has something that makes them appealing, and that there is no excuse to find yourself lonely. In the middle of being introverted and extroverted, there will be days where she would prefer to be alone, and nights where she’d prefer to live it up and party with friends. She is well-trained in the art of ‘fair-spoken’ and ‘brazenly outspoken’, using both as needed to handle a task before her, able to switch between the two at the press of a mental button. Her ability to tolerate others varies from person to person, but she always does her best to be patient before it begins to wear thin. A bit of a strategist, Samara will often work to find the holes in various plans of action and work to fill them, which she shows through her various projects both at work and on her own time. The professional, straight-A side of her is able to be suppressed when fun is the objective of the day, knowing full well how to separate the two. Some would also call her a bit of a geek when subjects capture her interest. However, in spite of her patience, tolerance, and ability to have fun, Samara can very much hold grudges if she is crossed in a way that she believes belittles her strengths—which is far worse than her own personal failures. Ignoring her in favor of an idea that she already proved wasn’t strong or consistent enough rubs her the wrong way. Because of this, it can be difficult for her to remain friends with someone who has the inability to listen to her. By nature she works to be the best at what it is she does, and often times her grudges can result in a temporary lack of socializing. However, should she be insulted to the point it equals her humiliation, Samara will avoid that individual whenever possible and, should they be unavoidable day-by-day, she will address them as blandly as possible without looking at them directly, preventing further deterioration of her mood. Likes - Success in her tasks, praise for her ideas and solutions, criticizing flawed plans and ideas, scented candles and pleasant aromas, a good sense of humor, reading, music, films, dancing and singing, inspiring others, the sound of rain and quiet thunder, being right. Dislikes - Anyone better than her at her strengths, consistent loud disruptions to a peaceful atmosphere, being ignored, flaws in design or strategy, terrible smells, being wrong, not being taken seriously. Fears - Failing people that count on her, her family being harmed, being unable to accomplish something put before her, being isolated from others for too long, no one caring about her, heights, uncontrolled flames. Quirks - Samara has a habit of singing when she believes she’s alone, typically that of R&B and some hardcore rap, with the lyrics sometimes—not always—reflecting what kind of mood she’s in. When something bothers her, or if she believes that something being done is an inconvenience, she will momentarily smile a little and break eye contact with anyone ahead of her. Where They’ve Been History - Samara is the oldest of three girls born to the Morgan family. The daughter of a successful advertising agent—company-running Henry Morgan—and former tennis star Keisha Morgan—formerly Keisha Young, her early aspirations had always been flexible. By four years old she wanted to play tennis like her mother. By five years old she wanted to run a company of her very own. By six years old, she had wanted to be both of those things at once. Her father had prioritized education and told her that she’d know what she wanted to be when the time came, and Samara had stuck to that ever since. However, even though he gave her all the tools necessary to learn and grow outside of the school system, there was plenty enough room for her to have a healthy social life and make friends at school. The early-to-bed and early-to-rise mentality had been adopted from both parents; when her father had gotten up for work, Samara was often awake too, nose deep in literature with a quiet tune in the background. One day she overheard her father speaking of a major offer being given to him by a company known as Galatec. They wanted his advertising agency to begin spreading news about Galatec’s imminent arrival and the things they intended to bring with them. It wasn’t a surprise that a company needed his help, and what they offered both him and his employees for their services was a significant bonus that he didn’t have the heart to refuse. After a little research and dozens of phone calls made, Henry had agreed and begun to lay the foundation to welcome Galatec’s arrival to New Earth. For reasons unknown to Samara her father had ended up taking a short leave of absence from home, but wasn’t willing to disclose where. Her mother assured her children that he would be back before they knew it. Thankfully, she was right, something Henry often complimented her on. But Henry was different when he returned. Anything brought into the household had to be checked over by him first. If it was any food or water, it had to be examined with care, and the food had to be eaten organically, denying anything processed. It wasn’t until education was no longer required that Samara had begun to ask why, with her father assuring her that he’d explain it to her in time. That time came sooner than expected. Everything was about Galatec; they were all over the news, and the friends Samara made at school had begun to talk about them with more affection than they ever had their math homework. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that Galatec wasn’t what they said they were. The appeal in their products was extremely exaggerated and their marketing strategy was lackluster on their own. Her father wasn’t giving it his all in selling the product, but he was doing just enough to keep his job with them—they had absorbed any other smaller businesses and brought them into the fold. It was her mind that saved her from hard labor. She had begun to work with her father for Galatec, all while gradually understanding that they were doing something to the populace that they couldn’t prevent on their own. Samara was instructed to keep her head down and work diligently to avoid catching their eye, and so she did. To ease the load of pressure off of her father, Samara’s previous ambitions had disintegrated in favor of keeping her family taken care of. Her father was at work with someone within the company (The Mentor) and eventually she was introduced to them personally, being praised for her ability to accomplish anything related to technology, time management, and creative thinking. The days of her early youth, pretending she was a crime fighter, were soon coming to life. Learning of a resistance in the shadows that worked to bring Galatec’s crimes to light were a source of inspiration for her to continue working in a bleak, dream-deprived world that didn’t want her ideas to bolster humanity, but instead keep them kneeling. Samara may not wear a suit, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight the battle against Galatec in her own way. Talents - Samara is skilled on electronic devices ranging from portable to supercomputer; she can type quickly, break down information in front of her at a higher-than-average rate, and understand nearly any program or device placed in front of her in record time. Although her ability on a computer is worthy of recognition, she also has a natural knack for public speaking, something she’d credit her father for. Lastly, she’s lithe; none of her tech savvy had prevented her from frequently exercising. Hindrances - Emotionally, Samara can hold on to the worst situations she’s found people in, especially if it has hurt her in some fashion. Because of this, she is absolutely terrible at moving past a bad interaction and has nearly no shame in holding on to it. Physically, Samara is quick on her feet, but when it comes to self-defense she is limited without a weapon in hand, making her extremely vulnerable if unprepared for a worst-case scenario of imminent capture. Powers - N/A Equipment - Samara’s cellular device contains images of things dear to her, also serving as her MP3 device and portable information retriever. It is protected by a red casing that not only stops physical damage, but also prevents water from damaging an already water-proof case. If she has no music, she may as well be another Galatec drone. Bonus Round Quotes - No. Theme Song - Never. Aspiration - Freeing New Earth. Everything else has become secondary.

Alors que Clementine courait avec les autres membres de la Force de grève, elle a remarqué à quel point il était facile avec la combinaison de puissance de se déplacer à une vitesse qui normalement l'aurait tirée en moins d'une minute. Quand ils sont arrivés à la jonction, Clémentine a flétrit son sang qui coule froid. Elle avait déjà vu Githkin envoyer des émeutiers aux nouvelles, mais ils n'avaient jamais montré un minimum de tactiques Githkin, donnant l'impression que les Githkin étaient contrôlés, chirurgicaux, presque pacifistes dans leurs tendances. Pour être soudainement à la fin réception de la tactique Githkine, les tactiques qui ont été révélées être beaucoup plus brutales qu'elle n'avait jamais cru, a eu son léger tremblement. Pourtant, Tommy a fait preuve d'un grand courage en battant son bouclier sur l'un des Githkins. Cet acte a inspiré Clementine quelque peu, mais au lieu de comprendre la tactique de focaliser le feu sur des cibles uniques, Clementine ne voulait pas tirer accidentellement sur le rebelle que le Githkin tenait (même si ce rebelle était probablement déjà mort), et visait un autre du Githkin avec son pistolet. Clementine se rappela mentalement que Githkin n'était que des constructions, rien de plus que des créations nanomachines sans esprit, sans vie, malgré leur apparence organiquement réaliste. Clementine a tiré deux coups de feu en rapide succession, les coups laissant la muselière de son pistolet confortablement; le pistolet a été conçu pour atténuer le recul et préserver son but pour les coups ultérieurs.

Name: Tommy Reese. Gawd, can't you read the title? Nickname/Alias: The Toy Maker Race: Humany Human of Humaness Age: 21 Ethnicity: Tommy is ancestrally japanese, but this being the future and all he doesn't really know much about what that means except for him looking slightly different. Gender: Male Appearance: Tommy is a tall, lanky guy standing at around 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 140 pounds. He's a bit thinner than he ought to be for his height, and that's due to refusing to ingest foods made by galatec. He has a disorganized, greasy mane of black hair which reaches the back of his neck, and he sometimes ties it in a knot if it gets in the way of his mining work. Tommy's face is somewhat bonier than would be expected for its round build, another unfortunate symptom of undernourishment, but it still has visible smile creases. Clothing: Being a person who is naturally hip to the jive of New Earth, Tommy adheres to the latest fashion trends sweeping the planet! These include, and are very limited to: torn denim, torn shirts, and dirty miner garb. He usually wears a utility belt on his trousers which includes all sorts of scrap metal he finds lying around, tools and other odds and ends. Usually he'll also carry a toy made of scrap metal, something like a little robot with glowing eyes or a toy gun. Tommy also wears a necklace with a sphere on it which emits a certain red wave length of light. This light counteracts some of the effects of galatec's lightning, and is one of the reasons he has been able to maintain his free will throughout the enslavement of New Earth. In The Mind Personality: Tommy is described by his friends as jolly and full of life, even though his appearance would make you think that he is anything but. He's an eternal optimist, always hoping for the best and trying to achieve it if at all possible. This is both his greatest virtue and his most terrible shortcoming, as with such optimism comes a certain naivete' that can be easily manipulated. Despite this, Tommy can still be described as somewhat wise. While he will always expect the best of people, he's also experienced plenty in his relatively short life, and can always be counted on to help a friend in need. Building and creating are both huge components of Tommy's life. He feels that given a bit of raw material and some time, he can always make something that will be useful to someone, or failing that, make them smile. He also has a certain affinity for knowing what makes things tick. He enjoys learning how things work and how they could be made better. This love of creation is why he appreciates all creative pursuits that sentient life can engage in (well, unless it's creating horrible propaganda to enslave the human race at any rate, that kinda sucks), including painting, writing, sculpting and all manner of different things. Likes: Children, Animals, Creative pursuits, the company of others. Dislikes: Negativity, Bare floors/walls, the color black. Fears: While Tommy is an optimist, his worst fear, cultivated for years by his family (and for good reason), is the loss of sanity. He is well aware that everything in his environment has been engineered by galatec for his enslavement and addiction, and as such he tries to deflect this fear by being as overwhelmingly positive as he can. Quirks: With what little raw material Tommy can sneak away from his job, Tommy makes toys on the side. Usually these will be children's toys, meant to make the little ones happy. Adults can appreciate his work too however, as he makes chess sets and other more complex things as well. This is why he is called the toy maker by his friends and family, and during holidays and birthdays, he always gives the most creative gifts. Tommy also has a strange quirk with decorating, namely that he likes doing it all the time, as does his family. This is for two reasons, the first being that he simply hates bare walls and boring rooms. The second is that Tommy is well aware that the environment is specifically crafted by Galatec(tm) for his enslavement, and as such, he rebels by trying to make it his own. Where They’ve Been History: Tommy's life is very much defined by defiance to circumstance. His family, consisting of only his parents; Jenna and Lee were of the 99.5% of humanity that could be affected by galatec drugs and mind altering affects. However, they were lucky enough to understand where everything was going. To be frank, Tommy's parents were hippies to begin with and had a distrust of corporations. At first the family could easily avoid Galatec by raising their own food and simply avoiding Galatec products, but as Galatec became more of a permanent fixture for New Earth life, they also made sure that such resources were no longer available. Soon enough, humanity was working slave shifts in various dangerous positions and all the "1984" references Jenna and Lee constantly made became a reality. Well, with the added bonus of aliens. Tommy's teen years were spent mining with the rest of his family in Red Rock, digging up resources for Galatec and otherwise suffering through it. While Tommy's parents very much despaired, Tommy himself always kept the family happy. For whatever reason, he had been imbued with a certain optimism that neither of his parents possessed, and this allowed them to keep fighting for their freedom. Galatect took the farm? Time to buy food off the black market. Galatec controlled all entertainment? Tommy got into crafting to make sure that he could make his own. As everyone else willingly gave their freedom to Galatec, Tommy, Lee and Jenna made sure that they would never be controlled by the greedy corporation. While food off of the black market was expensive and it was difficult to feed everyone, at least they were free. After 5 years of horrible conditions and undernourishment, Tommy came upon a breakthrough. One of the blue lights that Galatec used had broken down, and Tommy managed to steal it before it could be fixed. Using whatever he could for next few weeks, he managed to understand how it worked and the effects it had on humans. By reverse engineering it, he made a special necklace that could create a reverse effect to the Galatec lights, stimulating alertness in the user rather than submission and depression. Tommy managed to make several of these necklaces and hide them well, but unfortunately, those that had already eaten Galatec food, which was most of his friends, could not be saved from their addictions. They did however, become more aware of the state they were in... and freer than they were previously. It is now the present. Tommy is still undernourished, as his family, but at least they retain their most important asset: their freedom. Even some of his friends, though still addicted to Galatec drugs, are at least aware of what has become of them. Perhaps in due time Tommy, will be able to free his friends... and that's all he hopes for right now. Spreading freedom and happiness to at least the few people closest to him. Talents: While Tommy isn't an engineer per say, he has a certain skill with crafting things from raw materials, and understanding what makes things tick. With his past environment being very limiting in regards to this particular talent, he hasn't been able to craft much more than simply toys. However, given more resources, Tommy would quickly learn how to build more advanced things. Hindrances: Tommy is, unfortunately, very easy to take advantage of. Tommy likes to believe that most people's intentions are pure and innocuous, and unless something literally has the galatec logo on it, he is likely to believe it. Being malnourished for most of his teenage years has also made him weaker to disease, and as such he gets sick fairly often. His frailty also extends to his physical power. Tommy is physically weak, which is not ideal when one is a power ranger. Powers: N to the A biatch. Equipment: Blue Photon Morpher Red-Light-Emitting Necklace Utility belt with a bunch of tools including mining equipment, scrap metal and crafting tools. Ripped up miner clothes. Bonus Round Quotes: "I remember the last time you faced me... it really blew! Get it, because I'm the blue ranger? Get it?!" Aspiration: Tommy would like to make others happy, as much as he can. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Blue Primary Weapon: Tommy's primary weapon is a warhammer constrict attached to string. He can always whack a dude with it, which is usually how it goes, but sometimes you just need to hit one guy in the head with a hammer while you shoot another one in the chest with your blaster. The warhammer is naturally made of blue light, but it's shiny and glorious as opposes to Galatec's mellow and pacifying. Energy Shield: The blue shield is rounded with serrated edges, meant for a very lethal attack when it's thrown. It's visibly larger than the other shields, but it also has a slit near the right arm, meant for throwing the hammer through. Blaster Design: The blue blaster is very solid and has plenty of heft to it. Swinging it to someone's head will likely give them a concussion. It's a a bit bulkier than you'd expect from a pistol, but it loads in much the same way. Energy packs go into the place where one would hold it, and the weapon is ready to fire. The grip is very rugged with a slip resistant handle. Its blue light emanates from underneath a small panel on the top which can be pulled back, making the light more brilliant by physical means. Powers: Tommy can throw his mighty shield so all the villains must yield. The shield's shape can change at will (though the default is as described). Also, he can target stuff because his helmet is equipped for it.

Michael Sonnen Les choses se sont accélérées maintenant. Michael pensait que ça aurait l'air différent, mais quelque chose à propos du Githkin l'ayant en fait chargé avait branché son esprit. Il traitait les choses plus clairement, mais le temps n'avait pas ralenti comme il semble l'avoir fait auparavant. Avec son esprit mort-scène à prendre la chose démoniaque qu'il a pris la vue des explosifs et est tombé dans une concentration profonde, il n'avait connu que quelques fois dans sa vie. Ça a rendu les choses... plus faciles, il a toujours pensé à lui-même. Visant le pistolet vers les bâtons de l'explosion près du wagon, Michael a tiré trois balles vers lui. Quand il combat les démons... tout est un risque, il s'est dit durement, déjà en train de faire des plans pour son prochain mouvement.

Name: Michael Sonnen. Nickname/Alias: Mike, Son (close friends), Mikey, Meeka (mother). Race: Human. Age: 20. Ethnicity: African American. Gender: Male. Appearance: Michael has a overall roguish countenance with boyish features that marks him as a baby-face by most. His cheeks are round and his eyes hazel, a rare mutation inherited from his mother. His thick eyebrows have a almost feral shape to them, melding with his youthful look. However the eyes underneath them are--admittedly--filled with age. His athletic frame is more slim than sturdy and with arms that have sculpted its form in the mine shafts, its quite efficient to say that he looks adequately prepared for a fight. He stands at a semi-average height of 5'11" and can be spotted by the close, dark cut he sports. His hands are calloused from his years of labor and his mahogany skin marked with scars and cuts from injuries. One particular scar cuts across the right side of his nose and stops below his eye. Clothing: Though he works for Galatec like any other person, his reasons are vastly different. It's more so to blend in. This is falls in line with his want for acceptance. Like other youth's his age, he dresses fashionably in urban casual clothing. At times he can be seen wearing solid colored t-shirts beneath flannels, jackets, or hoodies. Other times, he could be seen sporting sweaters or simple tees. Accessories are bit too expensive for him, no watches, rings, or necklaces is worth the meager pay he's getting. Every once-in-awhile, when its chilly, he'll wrap a scarf around himself but that's just about it. His footwear usually consists of boots or sneakers, all of them different shapes. He has no preferences. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In The Mind Personality: Indecision and Resolve, its a contradiction that Michael happens to work with. Torn between his obligations to his family, his chosen path, and his desire to maintain peace; Michael can be quite the closeted person. Before, he had always tried to live a simple life, one that couldn't be pointed out from any other but as time moved on he found his complacency doing more harm than good. And because of this, he found that guilt quickly tore him apart on the inside. He had always been emotional. Even as a boy he could cry at the smallest of things. Because of how others nitpicked at him, he became reserved, holding his emotions in and letting them out in a more refined manner. Often or not, their pointed and strong, if not wholly direct and obvious. Modest as he was, Michael's emotions were still very much wild. His insight and sensitivity allowed him to empathize with those around him. As a mine worker he often looked on his co-workers and family with sadness. The propaganda, the brain-washed like devotion towards Galatec; it all felt very wrong. The conditions of their job was grave too but he bared it to be with them. This being said, his loyalty to those he love is steel-strong. Which can be a bad thing and a good depending on the situation. He also has a knack for being generous, trying to help others needlessly. When socializing he picks and chooses his words, its a habit he picked so as to not arouse suspicion from others that he may be different. In a nutshell, he's only human. Certain things about him could be described as faulty but he knows that everything he does come from a good place and tries to show it through his actions. Likes: Michael enjoys the sounds of smoldering rock music, its dream-like and smoky acoustics tend to uplift him and bring him to clarity. As mentioned below he studies geology a bit, investing himself in learning about the rocks he work around and the fractures that could potentially cause accidents. His favorite dish is enchiladas, the mixture of cheese, meat, and vegetables are a classic for him. It always brings a smile to his face. He also enjoys driving. Whether that be to the store or just to rock out to some music and get some thinking done. When colors are brought into question, his favorite has always been charcoal. Dislikes: On the flipside of his rock fetish, Michael tends to dislike expansive open spaces. The feeling of being vulnerable there makes him queasy and upsets his stomach. He also has a dislike of spiders. This developed when he was younger, working in the mines. He dislikes sweets too, candy or cakes are out of the question for him; his teeth are sensitive. And being around too many people can make him anxious. Judgmental people can lead to unwarranted attention and that could lead to him being discovered as different. Fears: Fears are rampant in a world where one can be perceived as different. MIchael has many fears. Discovery for wanting to remove Galatec's tight grip on New Earth is one of them. He's certain that death or imprisonment would follow if they ever found out. He also has a fear of moles and rats, these were also developed in the dark mines when he was younger. Oddly enough he also fears Galatec, the aliens are mysterious to him, a curtain behind many veils. But more than anything else, he fears that his family will end up like his cousin, thanking the hand that drove the knife into their backs. Quirks: Michael often thumbs the scar across his nose. It itches every once in awhile, causing him to rub the length of it. When he morphs into the Red Ranger he has a habit of saying "We fight for today!" before charging into an open confrontations. And when fighting he tends to swing his pickaxe with a expert skill, though his unarmed combat is sloppy and unrefined. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Where They’ve Been History: Average. What could that have been he wondered at a very young age. His birth was unremarkable and his life up until its eleventh year was too. That was when he realized that the things he noticed were vastly different than what others saw. His insight came to life that year and it begun what he liked to call his "blending". His mother: Valerie and father: Patrick was both workers underneath Galatec. So was his elder brother and cousin. When he turned eleven he too was sent to the mines for hard labor. Something about it was off, though he didn't really think much about because his family seemed okay with it. It wasn't until he met a little girl around the same age, who worked in the mines and exhausted herself daily, did he think, This isn't right... Later that year she hurt herself in the mines. To the point that she couldn't life anything over forty pounds. Michael always kept that in the back of his head, for whatever reason it stuck with him. Eventually seeing kids his age and younger became normal, though it was more than normal to the others. It was accepted and morally right. There was nothing wrong with watching a child struggle to lift his pickaxe, to watch him shy away from the smoldering heat and debris, to get injured and carried away. But that was just life in the mines. Outside it seemed perfectly typical. People shopped, people laughed, people even loved. It was life. But at the same time, it was twisted. Galatec was praised and worshipped more than any religion in history. Beliefs were focused on them, trust was given without thought. Michael pondered infinitely, taking notes of the rights and wrong he had observed. Ultimately he convinced himself that as long as his family was happy, that it was fine. So he continued to look at the propaganda that drowned his world, occasionally nudging his father or mother when they did something unethical for Galatec. When they would lash out at him, whether that be tender or agitated, he would always joke it off. His views on Galatec changed when his cousin died in the mines. He was with her when it happened and it was her final words that drove him down his path. As she laid limp beneath a metal canister; rocks toppled over her bleeding body, she uttered. "Don't worry, Mikey... Galatec will take care of you-" It was then that he knew things needed to change. Months after her funeral, as he worked the mines with his father who mourned and brother who withdrew into himself; Michael couldn't help thinking of them. He wanted to free them so badly that simply being quiet about Galatec pained him with guilt. At night he staid up, losing sleep over it. If he had said something, would Courtney be alive now? he thought that often. The bad thing was, his father and brother still thought highly of Galatec. It was as if it was impossible to resist them. He decided he hated them himself. Talents: Michael's talents aren't many, though they are pretty remarkable. In school he was the star of his soccer team, excelling at the sport. In the mines he gained a praticed aptitude with his pickaxe, usuing it for all sorts of labor and knowing its advantages and disadvantages respectfully. He also became a rather seasoned scholar in the rocks around him. He started studying geology so that he could perform his job better and notice the weaknesses in certain structures or walls. His eyes have also become rather sharp due to having to work in the dark tunnels of the mines, along with his instincts for danger. He's come to rely on these often. Hindrances: Unfortunately his talents are met with hindrances as well. He's week in the mathematics departments, many things technical escapes him. Mostly due to the fact that he ignores these things out of . He's also pretty bad with strategies, finding it easier to just go with the flow of things. And perhaps his biggest flaw is his indecision about breaking Galatec's hold on New Earth. At the cost of peace, is it really worth it? Powers: None. Equipment: Morpher, Personal Communicator, His cousin's daily planner. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bonus Round Quotes: "We fight for today!" Theme Song: Throne Aspiration: To secure the safety and future of his loved ones. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation: Red Primary Weapon: Pickaxe Scythe. While it resembles a Pickaxe greatly, its length and reach is more scythe-like. The hard-light this weapon is made tends to flare violently when swung. Energy Shield: Kite Shield with a Pick Axe on its face. Like his scythe, this shield flares violently. Blaster Design: A long, crimson revolver with red and black swirling towards the barrel. It is rather archaic in design with a slow fire-rate but powerful bullets. Powers: The Red Ranger possesses the ability to fire beams of concentrated heat energy via hands and feet. This heat is enough to burn through solid rock when concentrated over time and can be utilized in combat through quick strikes. Zords: For now, you won’t start with any zords. In fact, getting them will be among the first few missions. When you get a zord, keep track of it here. Until then, leave this space empty. "Ma, you should think about yourself now. Your job will get done, I promise you." She was bedridden but still thinking of Galatec. It was hard not to scowl or keep his fist from clenching. As she reminded him of their metaphorical debt to them, he had to make himself busy to keep her from noticing the deep scowl that etched his face. He moved to grab the tray of food next to her bed before mentioning his schedule for the next couple of days. They were different from usual for some reason, he was working without his father and brother and that worried him. He didn't tell her that part, she would have only told him to trust them or something like that. By the time he left the hospital dark had suffused with light and opened the door for the stars and moon. Michael sighed as he walked out, his hands tucked in his pockets as he shied away from the cold. His pops and brother should've been home; their shifts over. Unfortunately for him, his night was just getting started. Dressed in his uniform--a sophisticated material that tilted on being overhauls--Michael believed he could make the drive there in an hour. Give or take five minutes depending on traffic. His outdated vehicle rumbled to life once he ignited it. The contrast between his car and everyone else's were obvious. His was outdated even for those that had cars from twenty years ago. He held a grip on the rusty steering wheel, his head nearly touching it as he thought on his mother's condition. Working with upper Galatec meant many things to the working class, it meant she was honest, that she was respectable, worth admiration. But above everything else, it meant she was worth being stepped on. Poisoned... someone poisoned her! Crap! He could feel every muscle of his body tightening. Michael slammed his fist against the steering wheel before siting up and driving off. If he thought about Galatec's crimes right before going to work, he found it hard to act casual if not under their control. So he tried to clear his mind by playing some music. He played an old band, the kind whose music could make you dream and see armies clashing beneath red suns. "Just work your shift and make it home. That's all you have to do" he told himself.

L'information était un plus, l'altération mentale était un moins mais dieu si quelque chose qu'il devait dire allait passer à sa compagnie actuelle. Il n'a pas été surpris que personne ne remette en question la très haute chance qu'il y ait un nouveau bienfaiteur peut juste modifier leurs souvenirs, pas comme il pourrait dire ce qui voulait dire que c'était quelque chose à jeter à l'arrière de son esprit et sur la grande liste qu'il compilait appelé « Things To Check Later ». Dans ce qui importe réellement au sujet du scénario actuel, Jonas a fait usage de sa vision pour regarder dans les ténèbres avant eux. Il pouvait déjà voir les ennemis à venir et a commencé à planifier en conséquence. Trois Githkin, l'un utilisant la tactique de base du bouclier humain (pas sa méthode de défense préférée puisqu'ils l'ont toujours lutté et pesé vers le bas) et éliminant leurs ennemis rebelles de façon rapide. Le passage à X-Ray l'a fait balayer les rebelles restants, seuls trois étaient encore en vie et le bouclier humain n'était pas l'un des rares à se désarmer. Trois cibles, je les frapperai avant qu'ils puissent me voir. Activer le mode furtif. Avec une pensée, il brillait d'une couleur différente, se mêlant dans les ombres sombres de la grotte alors qu'il frappait une sorcellerie à travers la terre et disparaissait derrière un ensemble de pierres. Comme il avait prévu une attaque silencieuse, les autres ont pris le risque d'une attaque directe. Une situation d'otage et ces deux-là décident d'inculper sans plan, parfait... Il devrait être prêt pour ce qui s'est passé ensuite...

Name: Jonah Fallen Nickname/Alias: No Race: Human Age: 21 Ethnicity: East German on his mother's side, Russian on his father's side. He's also part polish and 1/15th Indian(not Native American) from his great grandmother. Gender: Male Appearance: Jonah is a light skinned male standing at 6'1 with toned muscles from working and his training. He has dirty blonde hair that he likes to keep short and sweet blue eyes that are usually seen sharpening at things he finds annoying. Along with those penetrating blues, he wears a set of thick rimmed glasses and keeps a small “glasses cleaning kit” in his pocket when ever maintenance is required. Despite working out daily, he appears as an average looking young man when wearing long sleeves since he focuses more on toning his muscles rather than having huge ones. His slightly chiseled features are smooth but he has some hair on his stomach. Clothing: He likes to keep things simple so he'll often be seen in a plain shirt and some jeans, he doesn't lean towards one color over the rest but is often seen in black or blue since his mother used to tell him it fit him best. He prefers short sleeved shirts and long pants but will change that up if it becomes uncomfortable to move in. For that same reason, he often sports sneakers as they are easy to move around in. In The Mind Personality: Jonah has an independent personality, he strives to be the best he can be because that's all he knows how to be. He keeps a cool head under pressure and always does his best to figure out the best solution to the problem at hand. He doesn't believe in good or evil, stating that all things are objectively of the same value. Often quiet unless spoken to, Jonah keeps an air of contemplation about himself and makes a note to distance himself from others so that they don't become a liability. While this method can supply an incredibly sturdy strength, Jonah's logical outlook can at times give way to his inter turmoils. See, one of his biggest weaknesses is that he is not always as cool as he thinks he is. While strong and independent, Jonah's attempts at apathy hides the fact that he does care about the people around him. His emotions are often the one thing he believes holds him back but they often supply more to his motives than he'll let on. Never to show fear, never to admit defeat, Jonah's logical thoughts can turn to mush when faced with having to deal with some of his inner-demons. Likes: Books that make you think about things. Silence. Dislikes: Stupid people. Self righteousness. Fears: That his rationality is just cowardice, that he's simply avoiding his greater emotions and is a hypocrite for telling people to not be controlled by them when he's letting them force him to flee from himself. Quirks: He loves to read, mainly books on philosophy which can sometimes overlap with books on strategy though most books on the art of war were destroyed. When upset or feeling unhinged, he'll take to cleaning his glasses to regain a form of control over his person. Where They’ve Been History: Jonah grew up in a small apartment in a not-so-friendly part of the city. It wasn't perfect but he had what he needed. His parents, on the other hand, were not quite as okay with their arrangement as he was. Starting from the womb, his parents pressured him to be the golden-child that would sky rocket them to the big times! Whether it was mathematics or sports, Jonah was told that he had to succeed to make life worth living for his family. He followed every rule but still slipped up, receiving negative reinforcement when he did so. But, eventually, he began to catch his stride. He started winning soccer games and getting A's on his tests and suddenly the negative reinforcement stopped. He was happy, his parents were happy, everything was better. Until he started hating his activities, started getting tired of waking up and never doing the things he wanted. At first, he hated this turning in his stomach because he loved his parents but he still couldn't escape the feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him so mad at them some times. He didn't have friends to talk to so he sought knowledge in his books. The library was a short walk from his home so he'd spend as much time as he could just reading. He had a love for philosophy and thinking and used ideals he learned to come to the conclusion that what was happening to him wasn't a bad thing, it was just a “thing” and that him giving way to subjective beliefs was what was causing him problems internally. Eventually he began to distance himself from his parents until he didn't see them as his parents anymore, he saw them as just another problem. By the time he was ten years old, he had developed a form of detached apathy, a learned behavior he adopted to keep his emotions in check. Suddenly, he didn't smile as much. He didn't laugh at all and he didn't speak quite as much as he used to. He was only a child but he got better at rationalizing with age and by the time Galatec seized complete control, he was already stead-fast in his thought process. Besides, honestly, life didn't really change when they arrived, not for him any way. His parents went to work and left him with his books, though the material was now more about how to serve the greater good than anything else. They confiscated his other books on philosophical thinking and mathematics, apparently those were “dangerous books that brought about dangerous thoughts”. He grew up in that situation, unaware of how much the world was going to continue to change. Time went on, and just as he thought, people began to cope with the change. It had been years, and like all things that occur, what was once “horrible tragedy” became “yesterday”. Life was in a constant state of flux and he wouldn't let such a fact break his concentration. His mother, now a widow after the passing of her late-husband, pushed Jonah to make a name for himself in the new society, she saw that he was different than everyone else now and thought she could bank on it. Jonah agreed because he didn't want to be thought of as expendable, besides, working hard was how he made it through life, keeping his center is how he survived. He had to keep a rational mind and continue moving forward. And that's exactly what he did. He began working as soon as possible, Galatec didn't care about age so long as their workers knew what they were doing. Eventually, he stood out and worked his way up, volunteering for the riskier parts of the job until he was being looked at by the higher ups. He refused to sit idle, not for honor or pride but because he knew that he only got one chance at life, knew what it meant to waste time and effort. Through it all, he kept his composure. He rationalized everything he saw, closed his eyes and reminded himself about the philosophies he put his trust in because that's all he had to stand by. Maybe he had problems with the blank eyes of some of the other workers, maybe he would be up at night, trying to see why his own eyes still flickered with life, maybe he wondered about the girl he once saw with the same eyes as him. But that didn't matter, work mattered, staying alive mattered. “You don't get second chances at life.” He reminded himself on those nights. “Galatec is in control, there is nothing you can do, don't be illogical, keep yourself centered...” Like that, every day. “What is is, and what is not is not.” They were truths, he could rely on truths. He just couldn't stand with them in his entirety. After all, he was still human. When the opportunity arose, Jonah volunteered for bodyguard duty, knowing that it meant he'd be given martial training and hoping it would supply a better standing for himself and, by extension, his mother. He was healthy enough, had a strong build from staying fit so he didn't have much trouble being selected. His training went by pretty easily as he took rather well to punching things into submission, perhaps due to some seriously repressed rage? Whose to say? After the initial adrenaline of letting loose for the first time wore off, he began practicing more at home, honing his reflexes as best he could. While not a god of the martial arts, he was able to prove himself worthy enough to stand guard for some big shots in the corporation. It didn't involve much, just watching and waiting for anything to slide by, a pretty simple procedure. As time went on, he did his work well, making a small name for himself with the others in his profession. It was an easy life really, easier than manual labor though how he trained at home, you'd think other wise but he still felt an unease about himself . One of which was when he first met a member of the rebels, a group that had yet to come to terms with what was and tried to ruin the status quo. Didn't they understand the feedback of what they were doing, how nothing changed but the amount of panic they caused to minor citizens? He had been on a regular patrol when he saw one, a rebel running from some other guards. He moved to assist but noticed that he recognized her, she was the girl with eyes like his, eyes still flickering with life. He wasn't sure why, but he let her pass, let a dangerous rebel pass by without a fight. She looked at him at as she ran by, first with confusion and then with a small smile continued on her way. He didn't realize it until turning around to see his reflection in a window, didn't even recognize the unfamiliar sensation... But he had a smile on his face as he watched her disappear around a corner.... After the encounter, he moved out of his old home and got a small apartment, feeling that the connections he had were clouding his judgment. Something about having to see his mother's eyes made him nervous so by 20 he was gone. Before he left, he promised her that he'd keep doing his best, though he didn't see the point in the ritual since he planned to do so anyway. His life was steady, to a degree but all of that, his worries and his real desire, came to a front when he was faced with a life changing decision. It had been so normal, training had gone well and nothing out of the ordinary had shown up as he escorted his charge through the street. Until suddenly, everything went to hell. Someone blew a bullhorn and a fire erupted on his left, a bit distraction for the person running towards the target, his charge. The attacker, a masked assailant ran in a panicked frenzy with a scream of desperation. They were part of the rebellion. Obviously, the attack failed, Jonah struck their weapon to the ground before a sharp low kick knocked away their legs and they were falling to ground. The assailant scrambled to their feet and began to scurry away, Jonah gave chase and they made their way all the way out to the coal mines. “Stop chasing me!” The assailant shouted as they jumped into the large ditch where the entrance was located. The masked fighter tripped on their landing and fell with a huff. As Jonah followed suit, landing in a roll, the attacker made one last lunge that Jonah quickly put a stop to when he threw them to the ground with one arm twisted behind their back. “Let me go!” “You are weaker than me, you should have been prepared for this outcome.” He responded as he pulled off her mask to reveal.... The girl with eyes like his. Yes, the girl he had let go earlier came back, the one he used to see when he thought about the life he was living came back after failing once already. Why did she come back, why didn't she learn her lesson and why was he thinking about letting her go again. Why did seeing this person fighting still make his heart stop a second, make him think about what he could be doing differently. “I know you, you're the guy who let me by the last time.” She said in realization. “And you're the one who was dumb enough to go and come back after getting a second chance at life.” He responded, deadpan as he pulled her to her feet. “What point is there to life if you can't make your own choices?” She retorted with a strange fire in her eyes. She broke out of the grip and glared at him. “You and I have the same eyes you should see things a lot clearer.” “Don't you understand, the war's already over.” He responded coolly. “This isn't your last pitch effort to save the world, we're not one city away from being under their control and you aren't the last key to the puzzle.” His steely blue eyes cut through her. “We've lost, the invasion you're trying stop? That's come and gone and people have moved on with their lives, what is is and what is not is not so stop living in a fairy tale world and get it together or you won't even have a life to cry about.” Those were the facts, the rebels should know that. Galatec was already in control, there wasn't a war to fight anymore, all that was left were lives to live as best as possible. Throwing yourself into a self-righteous ideal only serves to get you killed and there's no coming back from that. “Clearly, it was a mistake to let you go, I won't make it again.” “Okay,” She still had a smile on her face though. “than why am I not being turned in right now?” And then he had to be quiet as her smirk grew. “Why do I know that you're never going to turn me in?” She walked up close and never broke eye contact. “It's because you know what they'll do to me, don't you?”She took a step forward and he took one back. “You get how that's wrong, and you care.” She stepped passed him and he turned his head but didn't move to stop her. “Ya know, a guy like you could do something if he wanted, way more than me.” She climbed out of the hole before turning to look down at him and give a quick and playful salute. “Maybe stop trying to make sense of the situation and find out what you really believe, you're a human so you should act like one!” She ran off around yet another corner, leaving him to his thoughts. “Crap..” He said to himself. Why did he let her let go...again!? Why did he smile the last the time, why doesn't he feel bad about doing it now? Maybe it was an idiotic thing to give up on the ideals of right and wrong, maybe he had been idiotic about a lot of things. He had tried doing it his way for as long as he could remember, it was how he survived but was surviving and living the same thing or was he making them the same so he could deal with the situation? What were his real motives for his way of thinking, how much was logic and how much was fear? He stood there at the entrance of the mine, thinking to himself about what he'd do next. Talents: Logical thinking, more than anything else. Jonah may be good at fighting but that's a skill, his true talent, which could be considered the back bone of all his skills, is his logical mindset which gives him the ability to strike precisely and plan accordingly. Hindrances: Empathizing, holding his temper, admitting he was wrong, and expressing himself. Equipment: Morpher(Blue Ranger). A normal combat knife he keeps on him for special occasions and his glasses/glasses cleaning kit. Bonus Round Quotes: “What is is, and what is not is not.” Theme Song: nope Aspiration: To find out what he really wants in life. It’s Morphin’ Time! Color Designation:Violet Primary Weapon:THE PHOTON BOW The photon bow is a light based, long bow that generates arrows of pure energy to strike down its target. The bow is capable of firing multiple arrows at once with its average maximum being four unless overcharged (which will result in a rain of twelve arrows before the weapon is forced to recharge). By turning the bow, one can focus the arrows into one incredibly condensed and narrow blast, but this attack takes a lot of time to charge which leaves the archer open to attack. As each attack's quantity and quality are affected by both how long and in what way a person pulls back the bow string, the bow is not for the clumsy or undisciplined. It takes timing and calculation to bring out this weapon's maximum potential. Energy Shield: His shield is a circular shape, perfect for blocking attacks. It's a very nice shade of purple and glows in the dark. Blaster Design: Silver trim, black trigger, mostly violet. It has a sleek design with the gun's barrel having a thin line of silver across its top. The actual muzzle is the same pitch black as the trigger and there's a neon line of green running along the side of the gun. Powers: As the violet ranger, Jonah has the ability to see across all spectrum of sight. He makes calculations on how to strike next by scanning people's bodies with X-Ray vision and using infrared, he has the ability to shoot people down and fight accurately in the shadows. Along with X-ray and infrared, Jonah can see UV light and Radio waves along with much more. With vision beyond an eagle's, Jonah can strike down any opponent with deadly precision. Zords:N/A Jonah stood behind a lone tree with his binoculars set to night-vision, the darkness only lightened by the stray strands of the moon.. He had set up his sting in a small park for kids, surrounded by small shrubbery and a few trees all of which was going to be demolished soon. Across from him stood the construction zone where they were working on a 20 floor parking garage. As if the world needed more places for Galatec to park their fancy vehicles. He was there because there had been a report of beasts getting loose from the science division, a few Githkin test subjects had broken out of the lab and ran off into the city with a few people commenting on seeing them in the park at night. No one was advised to stay indoors because Galatec didn't want panic to ruin their precious balance which meant the people of the city were being left high and dry. Instead, curfew was moved up to 9:00 pm, lucky there weren't any encounters in that short amount of time. But now, night had fallen and anyone not in doors was a target which didn't seem to matter as there had been no sign of any people for awhile. Jonah wasn't sure if he was happy or sad about that. In this part of town there was always someone trying to get one over on you, he remembered hearing gun shots from his window from time to time, now he doesn't hear anything, no crimes, no muggings just the silence of night. “Every thing's so peaceful now.” He thought to himself as he watched the area. It was nights like these where he was the most conflicted. He was about to stop a few monsters that could kill a lot of people but he wasn't sure if the city has ever been safer than it is now. Nights like these could happen every day, a few Githkin escaping every night and it might not even make a dent in Earth's war torn history. This was one of the main reasons he couldn't except the other ranger's idea of a righteous victory, he couldn't say that Galatec wasn't a benefit to earth as a whole. He certainly got higher in this society than his background would have allowed him to before, there wasn't much prejudice or pollution or war. Just work and while that might be boring he couldn't say that weren't plenty of people who should only have that option in life. *rustle* His gaze instantly went to a bush on the opposite side of his hiding place. His hand went for his morpher but he didn't move, he wouldn't till he confirmed his target. As he watched, two figures popped out of the bush, they looked around warily before fulling stepping out into the moonlight, revealing their small frames. Children, two of them, they walked around as if trying to find something. The first was about twelve while the other was at least 13. Jonah didn't move from his post but instead used his binoculars to scan them closer. He noticed that they weren't frightened, instead being rather resolved. Judging by their hooded attire, they must have planned to be outside tonight. Hooded children out scouting the night sky with an emotion in their eyes, they must be part of the .5% meaning.. They were rebel scouts. “Great, just what I needed.” Jonah scoffed to himself, obviously not thrilled with the idea of having to deal with another rebel problem. Those guys really need to start leaving things to the professionals. Not that he was any more of a professional than they were but he definitely had more combat training. Luckily they didn't spot him as he hid in the shadows, to bad a very aggressive group of something had the duo in their sights. The rogue Githkins, five of them. The creatures moved toward the children and they screamed. The scout duo clearly hadn't had access to the same reports that his team had. The younger child ducked behind the eldest but still held some form of courage as the creatures drew nearer. The first Githkin raised it's hand to strike but the blow was offset by a timely thrown stone that knocked it's hand off course. The beast quickly turned to identify the attacker only to be met with a larger stone striking it in the face, in fact they were all being pelted with stones, most at their legs and ankles but a number of them aimed at their eyes and face. The children were initially scared but then became rather perplexed when they saw their would-be attackers being pelted. They stood there curious before a glimpse of a figure in the shadows ushering them to escape had them nodding and running back into the bushes, leaving as fast as they had come. “Perfect.” Jonah thought within the shadows. “They didn't see my face and I managed to sit some of those idiots in the eye.” He quickly scanned them over, three of the five still looked like they had a decent control of their faculties. “Even blind, that's still too many for my liking, I'll have to fight them on my terms if I wanna win.” And then he remembered the construction yard. “That's it.” He dashed out of the foliage to close the distance between him and the Githkin, Shocked at first, one made a fierce swing he ducked and rolled under before popping up to his feet in between the two blinded by stones. He deflected a left hook with an open palm before his leg whipped up to kick both eye damaged Githkin's in the chest, leg swinging back and forth between the two of them. "As I thought." The attack merely stunned them and soon the others were on him as well, swinging violently as he back flipped away and skidded to a stop. “That's right, your enemy's right here,” He cockily saluted before running into the parking garage shadows with the Githkin's hot on his trail. “Alright,” He swiped his hand over his wrist and his morpher flashed “Strike force, flash forward!” In the parking garage on level three, the Githkin's crept. Deep into the shadows they lurked, foot steps echoing in the hollow space, often turning at the sight of a shadowy gray figure passing by them like a phantom. Their eyes scanned the area for their prey but to no avail. As they passed by a pillar of stone, a sound, a click, had them halting in surprise. They lay unaware of who was on the other side. "X-Ray activated..." Jonah, donned in dark purple armor of his ranger form stood with bow drawn. The dim light of the bow focused and tightened as the arrow of light condensed. "Focusing rate: 100%" The creature's pondered as they began to take a step closer to the pillar of stone. "Firing..." Jonah released the bow string and the arrow shot through the stone pillar and the skull of the Githkin on the other side. The other soldiers went frantic on the defense when their companion turned into ooze but Jonah was already moving. "Infrared activated." His vision swapped out and suddenly he could see all of them clearly as they scrambled in the darkness. He pulled his bow string back before dashing out of his hiding place in a dive roll, landing on one knee with bow drawn and arrows already appearing between his fingers. He let it loose, just as the nearest Githkin began to notice his presence, and littered its body with three arrows to its chest. It screeched before dissolving and suddenly he couldn't hide anymore. They closed in but Jonah was already readying his bow as they rushed him. “Here we go..” He dashed backwards as one came down on him with a punch that cracked the concrete. As it moved to continue its rampage, he released a charged arrow through its chest before running up to back-kick it into the others and fire another three arrows into the group. As they scrambled to regroup in the shadows, he switched to X-Ray and scanned them for damage. “That last attack was on stun but the one in front received most of the damage and can't move, I'll focus my attacks on the two left as the weakened one slows them down.” By the time he finished his thought they were on him again. He back-flipped to dodge a high swing and side stepped the flying kick from another, striking the attacking Githkin with his bow before having to dash backwards and avoid the mighty swing of the weakened Githkin. He returned to the fray with a flying knee that struck the weakened Githkin in the chest, knocking it into one of its companions and freeing Jonah to strike down the one now left alone. It moved to attack but he back-flipped away to skid across the ground with bow drawn. As the arrow charged, he dodged the incoming blows from the Githkin soldier; ducking and weaving past each punch, smacking away the clumsy kick that followed with a high kick of his own and bringing up his bow before releasing it at point blank range to turn the soldier's skull into gray goop and watching as the rest of its body dissolved. Just as the other two Githkins managed to center themselves and go for a retaliation, his purple suit turned dark gray and he faded back into the shadows. Like a phantom, he circled them as he slid from pillar to pillar in the darkness. With a steady hand he pulled back his bow string and two arrows appeared between his fingers. The light of the arrows released a light shine as they began to glow. And then he was dashing forward He released the two arrows, hitting the back of the weakened Githkin's legs and making it buckle to its knees. As it went to get up, Jonah ran up its back and used it as a spring board to become air borne with bow string drawn. Before the other Githkin could think, it was struck with three stun arrows to the chest and Jonah was closing the remaining distance with a flying kick that had it skidding backwards. As the Githkin stumbled to regroup, Jonah hit the ground in a roll, landing right below the soldier on one knee with bow pointing straight up. "Firing." He released and the concussive force smashed into the Githkin's jaw, sending it flying up into the air and falling to the ground with a splat. Standing to full height, he turned, fingers already pulling back his bow string. He casually walked by the remaining drone and with out looking, let go the arrow of light between his fingers. The last thing it heard was the whirl of energy.... Jonah breathed heavily as his ranger form shattered out of existence. He had been lucky, the obstacles in the unfinished parking garage gave him ample back up for his strategy. Had he been left in the open, the tide could have very well changed to their favor but what could have been wasn't really important now. By hook or by crook he was still alive and the kids were still alive, that was all that mattered now. He sighed to himself, heart still racing from the exertion. He waited for a moment to steady himself before he retrieved the item he had been hiding in the back of his pants. A flare gun, simple but elegant in its design. He pointed the weapon up at the sky and fired. The flare flew high into the sky before exploding like a fire work. “That'll get Galatec's attention.” He noted. Now notified in as proper a way as possible, the corporation could retrieve their lost and unstable experiments. Jonah wasn't totally pleased with the idea of assisting someone he had designated as his enemy but he couldn't clean this up on his own and Galatec had better facilities for the alien soldiers albeit slave ready more than anything else. “I guess that means the mission's over.” “Time to head back to base.”

Bradley s'est ouvert. Il s'est assis dans son lit et a regardé autour de lui. Il était un peu nerveux. Il devait rencontrer un contact cet après-midi - un fournisseur. Si les choses allaient bien, il pourrait augmenter considérablement ses profits. Il était en quelque sorte faible en argent, lui-même, la plupart de son argent était allé à la santé de sa mère ou la fourniture de ses produits. Il ne savait pas à quoi s'attendre de son contact. Il avait très peu entendu. En fait, tout ce qu'il avait vraiment entendu, c'était qu'ils étaient insaisissables et assez sérieux et qu'ils pouvaient faire une différence considérable avec le montant de l'argent qu'il gagnait, et ce que faisaient ses collègues. Il se leva et s'approcha de ses fenêtres et retira les rideaux. Il était tôt. Peut-être 5h du matin. Il n'avait pas vraiment dormi. Peut-être qu'il a trop réfléchi. Peut-être qu'il avait juste besoin d'un café. Il se leva, se lava, se changea et se dirigea vers la cuisine. Il ne pouvait voir Cat nulle part. Elle était probablement encore au lit. Il s'est fait un café avant de marcher sur le vieux balcon rouillé sur l'extérieur de son appartement, poussant les portes vitrées pour y arriver. Dans sa poche, il a trouvé un briquet et un paquet de cigarettes. Il en a allumé un et l'a mis à sa bouche, soupirant à travers chaque bouffée de fumée, prenant une gorgée de café de temps en temps alors qu'il regardait au-dessus de la villeskape. Il était tôt, mais plus occupé que jamais. Qui genouillait ce qui se passerait aujourd'hui. Tout ce que Brad pouvait espérer, c'était que ça irait bien.

Bradley Marchetti ----- Age: 21 years old ----- Gender: Male ----- Appearance: Bradley is considered relatively tall, beating that national average at 6'0 dead. He has a natural liking for athletic activites and some spare time to work out means that he is in good shape. His skin is quite tan due to his father originating from Italy, though it is not too different from the skin tone he would have anyway as he lives in a fairly hot area. He has brown hair that is usually cut short. He shaves often, but if he happened to miss one, he would no doubt grow thick stubble. His eyes are dark brown. His choice of clothing is very casual and typical for someone his age, his wardrobe consisting of an array of simple t-shirts, hoodies, jeans and other things of that ilk. ---- Personality: Whilst Bradley appears to have quite a standoffish and harsh attitude, it is merely a sign of the fact that he prefers not to converse with strangers. To people who do not try and make unnecessary conversation with him, Bradley is perfectly fine and his behaviour toward them would not warrant a second thought, though he tends to be quite cold and harsh with anyone that tries to waste his time. He is not really an asshole, but it is the way he acts to most people as most of the people he meets are also assholes. He is, in general, very relaxed and thoughtful, saying only what needs to be said and rarely getting over exited. He finds it very easy to talk with those close to him, and is very kind and friendly with them, contrasting greatly with his general persona. His calm attitude means that he is more reasonable than most in stressful situations, keeping a level head and making sensible decisions - though this can quickly change if someone threatens or attacks someone close to him, which would probably lead him to kick their ass. Once close with someone, he is unwaveringly loyal and will always be straight with them (unless being straight with them would hurt them.) His loyalty could mean that he could be manipulated. ---- Likes: Freedom, music, reading, loyalty, necessary violence*, tranquillity, cars, sports, travelling ---- Dislikes: Crowds, tight spaces, unnecessary violence*, unfairness, most people, dishonesty, disloyalty ---- Biography: Diego Marchetti was born in Palermo, Italy in the 60s. After twenty years of mediocrity, he packed his things and left home - migrating to New York to seek greater opportunities, charmed by the idea of the american dream. He did not find it so fantastic when he arrived however, covering a span of jobs before maintaining a job as a taxi driver. The only positive thing he found in America, in fact, was a young woman named Cynthia who he would fall in love with an eventually conceive a child with in the early 90s. Unfortunately for the both of them, Diego was shot dead by local criminals after he got involved in some of their business. Diego died two months before Cynthia gave birth to their son, Bradley. Cynthia, heartbroken and left to raise a child alone, moved to California, unable to face the city in which her lover was mercilessly shot down in, holding fears that Bradley could see the same fate one day. Without a father and with a mother who was what could only be described as mentally depressed for the majority of his childhood, Bradley didn't have it easy. His mother was loving to a degree, but he was often left to his own devices as she spent most of her time either working or dating some random person she had just met - which rarely worked out. His mother must have had hundreds of relationships over the years, and only two had lasted for more than twelve months, both resulting in short-lived marriages. Bradley never really had a chance to be taught the ways of life, so he learnt it himself. When he wasn't in school he was out on the streets getting involved in all sorts of shit. Bradley learned fast in school. He took in information like nobody else. His issue was translating that to paper, so he did quite poorly early on. His teachers saw him as a fool, and treat him as if he were one. As a result he lost any passion he had for learning and fell in to a downward spiral of learning, failing most tests that came his way, shutting off his mind in class and putting his headphones in. He was once a kind and respectful boy, but after being pushed around by both his fellow peers and teachers as well as having to face the cold hard world, his attitude changed, making him sceptic, unfriendly and quite distant. He went from being the kid that always wanted to answer the questions to the kid that sat at the back of the class and never spoke. He would put all his energy on to his exploits out of school - he got involved with gangs. He robbed stores, stole peoples wallets, fought on the streets. He got a lot of cool stuff over the years, but it was all dirty money. Nothing he did was morally sound. He felt bad about it, but he did it anyway. He almost got killed on two occasions - one leaving him with a permanent knife scar down his arm. He struggled through school, barely scraping his way out of it by the end. He moved out and spent most of his times sitting in smoky rooms with his friends, listening to music and passing a joint around whilst doing nothing productive at all - occasionally going out and robbing someone to keep the supplies of weed. When he was 18, he discovered that his mother had cancer. It was not necessarily terminal, but the doctors said it was a possibility that she could be facing death in the next couple of years. Bradley's whole outlook on life fell in to doubt. He realised he was leading a petty, disgusting life. He had been hurting others for no reason. Causing trouble for the hell of it. He left and tried to find a way to live his life as a good citizen. At 19 years old after several months of living this lifestyle and getting very little done, Bradley saw his mother's health deteriorate quickly. He demanded that she leave work, which she did. He then found himself having to care for her and himself. He had some money that he had accumulated over the months, but he didn't have a good job to maintain the money coming in. He was too deep to leave his life of crime, but he wasn't too deep to change his haphazard ways. Maybe he couldn't turn his back on crime, but he could turn his back on causing suffering for his own benefit. He looked for a way to earn a good amount of money without harming innocents - a victimless crime: dealing weed. He found a supplier and started small, earning very little for the amount of effort he put it. However, as time passed, his profits expanded and two years later, the present, he had a strong business with several of his close friends working beside him, reeling in hundreds of dollars on a weekly basis, which is split between the group - most of Bradley's share going straight to his mother. ---- *What I mean by this is that he loves beating the shit out of bad people if they deserve it and would probably find it easy putting a bullet in to a bad person, but he would never condone violence to an innocent.

Équipe Tooke MMA À environ une heure avant l'ouverture officielle du gymnase, les portes de Team Tooke MMA nous sont ouvertes par l'entraîneur et la légende mixte des arts martiaux, Edgar Sully. À l'âge de 53 ans, Edgar forme ce qu'il décrit comme la prochaine génération de combattants. L'homme était un passionné, prenant le rôle d'un entraîneur juste après avoir pris sa retraite de l'octogone. Il était dans une lignée de combattants, allant jusqu'à son arrière grand-père, un champion de boxe. Mais avec une culture en évolution, le sport aussi. La boxe était toujours un billet à très fort impact dans le monde, mais UFC et MMA étaient des installateurs. Il est venu dans la société comme une mine d'or, tout le monde voulait un morceau de celui-ci. Le père d'Edgar a été le premier à prendre le nouveau sport, pas trop loin dans sa carrière, mais capable de faire exactement le contraire pour son fils. Edgar Sully est devenu le champion du monde des poids lourds. Son disque a cependant été enterré avec sa légende, car il ne semble pas que beaucoup se souviennent de lui. Mais de toute façon, les portes de la salle de gym ont été ouvertes tôt par Edgar afin qu'un vieil ami de lui puisse s'entraîner avant que d'autres étudiants ne se pointent - Nate "Destroyer" Tucker. Après avoir été libéré il n'y a pas si longtemps, Nate a dû retourner à ses racines pour tenter d'obtenir une sorte de libération. Le seul endroit où il se sentait en paix était dans la salle de gym de Sully. Certains seraient d'accord que le retour là-bas ne ferait que rapporter de vieux souvenirs, mais pour Nate, l'équipe Tooke avait été sa vraie maison. La thérapeute de Nate ne croyait pas que ce soit le meilleur choix pour retourner dans un endroit qui l'a aidé à commettre le crime, mais cela ne coïncidait pas avec Nate. Mais malgré ses pensées, Nate a pris des précautions. D'une part, il a demandé à Sully s'il pouvait s'entraîner une heure avant l'ouverture du gymnase et une heure après sa fermeture. À cause d'une confiance mutuelle, Edgar a accepté. Dans la condition que Sully lui-même serait présent pendant son entraînement. L'entraîneur voulait que Nate recommence à se battre dans l'octogone comme quand il était petit. Il croyait que le meilleur moyen de s'éloigner de son passé était de créer un avenir formidable. Sully croyait au talent de Nate, il avait l'esprit de les gagner tous. Mais il était clair dans la façon dont il a formé et sa personnalité lointaine que quelque chose l'ennuyait encore. Il y avait cette tension mentale floue en lui qui ne le laissait pas libre et c'était évident. Mais malgré cela, et malgré leur relation, l'argent était devenu un facteur pour Sully. Si Nate ne voulait pas se battre et faire la gym et lui-même un peu d'argent, il devrait commencer à payer comme tout le monde qui s'y est entraîné. Et ce jour-là, c'était la même chose. Nate est venu aux portes à six heures du matin pour que Sully ouvre la salle de gym juste pour lui. Nate - en plus de toutes ses autres demandes - voulait être seul pendant la formation, d'où le temps de ses séances d'entraînement. Quoi qu'il en soit, après avoir fait son heure d'entraînement, il s'est douché et était sur le point de partir avant que l'entraîneur Sully ne l'attrape et arrête son processus avant. "J'ai besoin de vous parler, alors attendez une seconde avant de partir d'ici. Vous avez deux semaines de retard sur vos paiements. Je sais que c'était de la famille, mais je dirige une entreprise ici. Si je n'ai pas cet argent, je ne suis pas sûr que tu auras même une salle de gym à travailler dans le mois prochain ou alors" Sully a expliqué à Nate. Le combattant fixa les nattes au-dessous de lui, se sentant un peu coupable de ne pas avoir déjà payé. "J'aurai votre argent d'ici la fin de cette semaine Coach. Je promets qu'il a répondu, maintenant regardant les yeux de l'homme à la place. Sa détermination brillait d'une aura vert vif dans ses pupilles. Il savait que Sully ne plaisantait pas à propos de sa difficulté à garder la salle de sport en marche, c'était déjà arrivé. Alors, bien que Nate ait eu ses propres problèmes d'argent, il a dû gérer. Son premier plan était de quitter le motel où il séjournait, de dormir dans la rue pendant un moment pour qu'il n'ait pas à dépenser autant. Deuxièmement, il devrait parler avec Bradley, peut-être obtenir quelques emplois rapides - Nate n'était pas le gars à demander des prêts. Il ne voulait pas dépendre de l'argent des autres. Il avait fini d'être impuissant.

Nate "Destroyer" Tucker Age: 22 Years Old Gender: Male Appearance: As seen in the picture above, Nate is in a very qualitative physical state. In accordance to his training, his physique is very important to him - believing that the only way to remain overall healthy, is to live a healthy lifestyle. He stands at 5'10 and weighs in at about 158 pounds, a very decent ideal weight for his height. His body fat percentage is very low, revealing his toned features. Though in reality, only people who get to see his body are usually his opponents in the ring and the spectators. He normally wears hoodies everywhere he goes, hot or not. Usually in three different colors - black, grey, and navy. He always carries around a lighter - though he doesn't smoke - and his chained wallet that is strapped onto his pants at all times. He also tends to carry a red rag that he lets hang from his right back pocket of his pants and usually has work boots on - very unlikely to see him wearing tennis shoes. Nate allows himself to sag a little, but not to a point where his underwear is showing, because for him that's disrespectful. He has a stubble which he never lets grow too long or too short. His hair the same way, basically a buzz cut. Other than that, he has many tattoos, tribal ones on each arm, "Destroyer" on his chest, and a one-winged angel on his upper right back. Personality: Nate is somewhat multidimensional. He has two forms of personalities that clash against one another and jumble up his thoughts and actions. He tends to have difficulty understanding what is right and what is wrong. From his past experiences, he has learned to calm his rage and store it inside him - cage it like an animal. But at times when things get out of hand is where that 'animal' in him tends to escape. Usually he tends to keep to himself, believing he may hurt the people around him if he involves himself too much. But despite that, Nate does indeed want to be part of society and have bonds with others, even if at one point they'll be shattered just like most. In the end, he tries his hardest to be compassionate and change the person he ones was in hope of becoming someone better - more productive. Likes:Working out, fighting (legally and for sport), being alone majority of the time, connections (relationships), and listening. Dislikes:Struggling, loneliness (complicated for him), brother (Lance Tucker), meat (vegetarian - turned after being let out of jail), loud noises, and prostitutes. Biography: The past wasn't what mattered to Nate at all. After being sent to jail for assault against his own father, Nate was released within eight years and started to focus on the future. As a child, he was physically and mentally abused by both his parents. In addition to his brother, Nate was the youngest and the weakest, so he couldn't put up any sort of fight then. The adults would place the blame of their finances on their children, beating them for anger rehabilitation. Lance, the eldest brother, at the age of 12 decided to run away leaving Nate behind. Of course, that night was not good for Nate because Lance's abandonment angered both of them - despite their desires of wanting to get rid of the boys. But when Nate turned 14 years old, Lance returned with a small group of thugs - a gang. He came back for his brother and to get rid of his parents. Lance soon found out that his mother died three years before his return. She was diagnosed with terminal cancer that they could not afford to treat. He also found out that Nate had started working for old man Joe at a small convenience store, using the money to pay for fighting lessons at a mixed martial arts gym near their house. With two years of experience the boy learned quite a lot, no longer letting anyone pick on him at school or anywhere but home. He was given the opportunity to get into fights, both for the sport and for self defense - also out of pure anger. So when Lance returned for payback, he let his little brother - the one who endured the most pain - get his revenge. Nate didn't want to, but was pushed to beat the living crap out of his old man. Despite their difference in height and weight, Nate was fighting a weak old man. He broke his father's knee with a numerous amount of kicks and busted up his face with a couple of punches and elbows. After that event, Nate and Lance moved in together at an apartment out of town. The brothers lived together for a couple months until the cops showed up to take arrest Nate for physical assault. His brother was not charged, but brought in for questioning where he did not speak a word in anybodies behalf. During those years in prison, Lance would come from time to time to check up on his little brother. He told him that he was making it big, bringing in all different kinds of dough - illegally of course. He told Nate that once he got out, he could join him and they'd get rich together where Nate negated Lance's proposal. He turned him down completely, telling his brother he'd changed. He informed him that he no longer needed people to look out for him, that he could do it on his own - even if it wasn't true. Anyhow, after getting out, Nate had to endure six months of anger management classes, probation, and other things he hated. But despite his anger towards those things, they did in fact change him as a whole. He learned to control his emotions to a point, changed his view on life, and wanted a better future for himself. But despite all of that, he was still struggling. Nobody would hire him due to his criminal record, nobody would even look at his applications. All he had at this point was the gym he once trained at, so he returned to that. But even so, he didn't want to fight, just train.

Chat roulé et roulé au lit. Elle essayait de s'enterrer sous des monticules de couette blanche pour cacher le soleil qui brille à travers la fenêtre et dans son visage. Mais ce n'était pas utile. Quand il faisait clair dehors et qu'elle était réveillée, elle ne pouvait pas retourner dormir. Un whimper a laissé la forme brouillée de morceaux blancs avant qu'elle ne jette la couverture. Elle s'assit sur le lit, les cheveux courts et sombres et tout autour de son visage de sorte qu'un seul oeil, le bout de son nez, et ses lèvres et son menton étaient clairement visibles. Elle portait un sweat-pantalon avec un nom de marque estampillé sur le côté et un cami avec un soutien-gorge construit qui faisait peu de bien. En donnant à la fenêtre un éclat ennuyé, elle glisse hors du lit, pieds nus rembourrant vers la cuisine. Une main frottait son œil visible, et l'autre frappait légèrement les choses sur son côté pour s'assurer qu'elle allait dans le bon sens sans avoir à regarder. Elle s'est finalement rendue à la cuisine et a arrêté de se frotter les yeux, trouvant un bol, du lait et une boîte de céréales. Elle est allée verser le contenu de la boîte, seulement pour peut-être 5 pièces à cliqueter dans la céramique, la rendant fortement froncée. Soupirant, elle a remis le lait et s'est retournée pour voir du café assis là. Brad était déjà debout. Elle s'est faite une tasse et a couru une main dans ses cheveux, l'éloignant de sa vision avant de sortir sur le balcon où Bradley fumait. Elle se tenait à côté de lui et lui piquait le côté d'un doigt en buvant son café. "Est-ce que tu as mangé mes céréales?" demanda-t-elle, levant un sourcil, mais regardant la ville et non Bradley.

Name: Lee "Dragon Fist" Kang Age: 21 Gender: Male Appearance: Lee stands around 5'9" in total height and weighs in at an exact 150 plbs which is the ideal weight for his height and body mass. His eyes are a dark brown and always look fierce and full of fire. With no fat on his body he has a solid physique. Like many korean martial artist he takes care of his body with extreme training to keep himself as springy and wiry as possible. He is not as much muscle as he is toned, however where he lacks in muscle he makes up for in speed and aggression to overwhelm his opponent to the point of fracture. Always clean shaven he keeps himself presentable to a large degree and does not possess any tattoos on his body for he believes they hold no real value on a fighter. He keeps a natural haircut that is short but not shaven, but also not long enough to be grabbed in a fight. Not normally one to wear the usual apparel of today's American he is most noted for walking around in clothing that is light and gives him the ability to be flexible at all times. His usual clothing consisting of a pair of black pine tree martial arts shoes, a pair of black lightweight martial arts pants, a common black mens tank tops, and a black and red Kung fu style type which he keeps open in the front and sleeves often rolled up past the elbows. Personality: Lee believes in absolutes to put it mildly, there is no middle ground, things are what they are and if you can't accept that then your too weak to face reality for what it is. Lee is one who does not believe in weakness, if you want to cry about your life then he won't be that shoulder to cry on, growing up the way he did, you either choose to be strong or you choose to be weak. While it holds true that he is softer towards close friends to a large degree, he still believes strongly that if your that weak then you should die. Lee lives on what some might call a life or death plane, or in other words the weak die the strong survive and there is no second place in this. Lee's most notable train of thought is when it comes to whats right and whats wrong, what many people consider as wrong, to Lee, is nothing more then a line between wrong and right. In other words you consider it wrong but he considers it neither wrong nor right. In Lee's mind no actions are right or wrong but merely choices that have a consequence if it be good or bad. Some consider Lee unstable, but Lee considers himself strong and that's all that really matters in the end. He has never cared what people think of him or his actions and in the end he never will. Likes: - Strength - Training - Respect - Honor - His closest friends - Determination - Those who show guts - Fighting Dislikes: - Weakness - Stupidity - Blatant disrespect - Cowards - Bully's - self delusions - Being called unstable - Dishonor Biography: Lee does not reflect much upon the life that brought him up to this point, for he despises his life as a child. Lee was born into what some might call a traditional Korean culture in America. His mother died giving birth to him so he was raised by his father who was a strict and very old world type of man. Lee from the moment he could stand lived a rigorous and hard life, his father who was an expert martial artist did not believe in weakness, and did not believe in failure or taking the easy road. Lee was often beat by his father for even the littlest thing, and from the age of four he was forced to start training in Martial Arts, with his father as his instructor. Life training with his father was rather hard, Lee by time he was six and starting school was not new to the feeling of pain. Unlike most in school, Lee excelled at learning and more often then not he soaked up knowledge which allowed him to skip grades from time to time. But with this also came the fact that Lee was often placed in classrooms which kids who were older and bigger then him which lead to him meeting his first bully's. When Lee came home with his first shiner, instead of a loving caring father he was beaten and chastised for being so weak and losing. Which in the end lead to Lee's father training him and working him even harder then before. Life went on for a couple years like this for Lee, taking beatings at school, and then coming home and facing his father who drilled him until his body ached from the stress and his knuckles were covered in blood. It was in this point in Lee's life that he realized that no one truly gave a damn about him and he started to become hardened to the world in which he lived. By time Lee was ten years old, the many beatings and the uncaring attitudes of the ones around him he had started to become angry and spiteful. It was in this moment that Lee decided that he would stop fighting his father and learn what he had to teach him, if nothing else then to one day beat his father very much like he beat him. From that point forward for three years straight Lee endured his school life, and then his home life, he immersed himself into his training. At age twelves things began to change, and it all started with a bully who took it a step too far at school. Lee had become slightly infatuated with a girl his age at school. However a long time bully found out and without remorse humiliated Lee in front of her to the point where even she began to treat him like everyone else did. After this Lee finally snapped and for the first time he fought, and beat the same bully who had been torturing him for all that time. However Lee in his anger took it too far and beat the boy within an inch of his life and would have killed him had it not been broken up by the teachers. After the incident Lee was expelled permanently from school an almost got put in juvy for attempted murder but it did not hold. His father whom he thought might be proud of him for defending himself was instead outraged and the night he came home beat him unmercilessly to the point of death. After that night Lee was taken from his father and given to his fathers older brother who was not much better then his father, and like before he was once more immersed into learning to fight. Lee never returned to school after the incident and it was around his fifteen year that he started getting into the darker things in his city, drugs and gangs. It started small with simple drug selling and then it got worse as time went on, to the point where Lee was beating people half to death in the streets. The more time went on the deeper that Lee got, it is unknown what happened to change Lee's ways but around his nineteenth year he walked away from the streets and the terrible things in which he had been doing. Free of his family ties Lee never went back to his Uncle and found himself free for the first time ever. Soon enough Lee found himself at a Martial arts dojo that belong to an older korean master, needless to say after Lee showed the older master what he could do the old man took him under his wing and furthered his training, and for the first time Lee felt happy with his life and found must respect his master. However good this life was, Lee quickly began to realise that he needed money to live on and his master could not support them both, so against his better judgement he returned to his darker past and found himself in a drug circle with close friends he made to make ends meet. Now at age twenty one Lee now known as Dragon Fist for his deadly aggression is now a master himself still helping at the Dojo to teach others the art of Kung Fu and still making money on the streets to keep himself above and going.

Il y a quelques heures, il était arrivé dans la petite ville lacustre d'Alice, se déplaçant impatiemment dans son siège alors qu'un homme relativement petit tentait de descendre son sac des rayons supérieurs au-dessus de lui, trop fier pour demander de l'aide. Le processus a pris plusieurs minutes qui se sentaient comme des heures, et Diana a dû étouffer son désir de claquer sarcastiquement quand l'homme, face rouge, a finalement commencé à faire son chemin vers le bas de l'île et hors du train, il se sentait mal pour eux bien, tout le monde murmurait, même les travailleurs avaient des commérages entre eux, mais c'est ce qui a fait passer la journée, et ce qui les a gardés loco-motivés pour l'esprit engourdissant tâche du service à la clientèle. Dai a glissé à l'extérieur avec sa petite valise (à l'évidence, étant particulièrement faible dans les membres qu'il luttait légèrement) et a tissé son chemin à travers une petite foule bloquant le chemin. La gare n'était pas particulièrement occupée, Alice elle-même était principalement soutenue par les familles de vacances riches dont les cabines parsemaient le bord du lac, mais il y avait un bon nombre de personnes qui tentaient de faire la navette dans des affaires légitimes. Il a continué à marcher, et juste à l'extérieur du terrain de la station d'air libre (qui étaient couverts par des toiles surplombantes et translucides) Dai a trouvé un certain nombre de taxis alignés soigneusement sur le bord des trottoirs, chacun aussi lumineux et poli que le suivant, et après avoir fait une conversation rapide et maladroite avec quelqu'un qu'il n'avait pas personnellement rencontré Dai a réussi à convaincre un conducteur de l'emmener dans sa cabine; "J'ai juste besoin d'aller à la Starlight Lake-house". C'était un tour maladroitement silencieux, son conducteur habituel était particulièrement bavard et rendait le court voyage d'une vingtaine de minutes aussi agréable que possible, mais celui-ci était vide de vue et silencieux sauf quelques mots sur le temps quand poussé, bien que son expression dans le rétroviseur ait donné son désintérêt général. Diana savait qu'il était plus probable que pas cet homme finirait par être congédié, étant donné qu'il faisait partie de son travail d'être particulièrement amical avec les clients, mais étant timide et non caractérisé par sa propre richesse, Dai n'a pas essayé de faire quoi que ce soit du silence maladroit. Quand il est arrivé à la cabine, les ouvriers se meunaient, nettoyaient et stockaient des étagères, alors il a essayé de se rendre aussi petit et inaperçu que possible qu'il a glissé à l'étage dans sa propre chambre et a dormi dans la fin de l'après-midi. "Si tu as besoin de quelque chose, appelle-toi bien?" a dit une petite mais forte femme en jean et une chemise lâche quand elle est entrée dans le siège passager d'une grande camionnette blanche, ils étaient la dernière des ouvrières à partir, et elle était une amie pour lui depuis qu'il était très jeune. "Je vais Laura." Dai a répondu tranquillement, souriant malgré lui-même alors qu'il prenait quelques pas en arrière. La femme sourit sciemment, avec confiance, alors que le van commençait à s'éloigner, elle se mit à dire autre chose, mais il était trop distrait par la poussière que le fourgon sortait de l'allée pour l'entendre. Il tira accidentellement autour du virage en direction de la ville, et disparut rapidement dans la ligne d'arbre dense. Après une courte période de toux et de frottement des yeux, Diana soupira d'une irritation visible avant de retourner son attention vers la cabine elle-même. Certes, il était plus qu'un peu nerveux à l'idée de rentrer à l'intérieur par lui-même... d'habitude il y avait des serviteurs d'une sorte qui bougeaient pendant les étés, et ils le gardaient à l'aise, mais maintenant il était vraiment et complètement seul alors que le soleil commençait à être lent et décent. En bâillonnant sa lèvre, il a fait son chemin sur la petite étendue d'herbe entre l'allée et le porche. La belle cabine, extérieure peinte en couleurs douces et neutres tandis que le porche lui-même était composé de planches bien poncées, et chaque fenêtre claire comme du cristal, a été rendu odieux compte de son état d'esprit. Il s'arrêta un moment, ayant surmonté les marches courtes, pour faire face à la porte dans un silence distrait, se déplaçant mal à l'aise sur ses pieds et essayant de ne pas regarder de chaque côté dans la peur que quelque chose soit proche pour le surprendre. Dai tendit la main, saisit enfin la poignée de couleur bronze foncée et la tourna, mais il dut se pencher dans la porte elle-même avec tout son poids pour qu'elle s'ouvre, à sa grande consternation. L'intérieur de la cabine était bien éclairé, car ils pouvaient facilement se permettre de garder toutes les lumières allumées s'ils le voulaient, mais il ne se sentait pas mieux sur la situation, jetant un coup d'œil rapide aux différents coins et fenêtres et portes qui autrement seraient complètement innocent et familier pour lui. Drifting, il est entré dans le salon et a cliqué sur la stéréo, principalement pour le bruit de fond, et alors que la personnalité radio pratté sur Dai s'est déplacé pour fermer certains des rideaux sur des fenêtres redoutables, avant de monter assez lentement, et de courir vers le bas, ordinateur portable dans la main, et a essayé de se mettre à l'aise sur le sol, en gardant son dos au mur le plus proche pour faciliter son esprit. Une chanson a commencé à jouer, une qu'il connaissait assez bien, mais il l'a fait peu d'esprit, au lieu de se tourner vers les diverses conversations en ligne dont il faisait plus ou moins partie, et se demandant quand ses amis, Faith et Raven, arriveraient. Il les avait invités plusieurs jours auparavant, et il s'était arrangé, lâchement, avec la station que les frais de billet pour les invités de Starlight devaient être placés sur sa facture, mais le temps a été perdu à ses propres pensées et son inconfort général d'être seul dans la cabine.

Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe Age: 19 Height: 5'11 Weight: 120ibs Sex: Male Gender: Cis Male Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes. General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal.

« Maintenant arriver à Alice, s'il vous plaît restez dans votre... » Eleanor a entendu son lieu d'arrivée et a commencé à se préparer à quitter le train. La voiture dans laquelle elle était n'était pas très occupée et tout le monde assis tranquillement collé à leurs propres affaires, elle n'a pas été surpris par les autres passagers civilisés dans la voiture en raison qu'il était de première classe, mais il avait toujours été dans le fond de son esprit pourquoi elle n'a pas payé pour le billet elle-même. Elle était parfaitement capable de le faire, cependant Raven a expliqué les « frais vont être payés » ce qui a fait Eleanor se demander, Qui est cette « Diana » et pourquoi est-il si poli avec moi, Quelqu'un qu'il ne connaît certainement pas? Alors que le train s'arrêtait seulement quelques personnes se levèrent et s'emparèrent de leurs bagages, il a fallu quelques minutes à Eleanor pour obtenir le timing juste pour prendre son sac en plein air tout en sautant assez haut pour atteindre et attraper tout en restant debout. Elle a réussi, et a sorti sa valise du train. Après avoir marché à l'extérieur de la gare, elle a vu des taxis parfaitement placés, le tout dans une ligne droite idéaliste. Les OCD aimeraient ça, elle pensait à elle-même avant de se battre encore quelques pas avec sa valise lourde. En s'approchant du taxi, elle tapota poliment sur la vitre de la fenêtre des chauffeurs, s'attendant à ce qu'il joue à la fenêtre comme n'importe quel autre taxi moyen, alors elle se pencha légèrement pour pouvoir parler à l'homme, mais au lieu de cela, une soudaine explosion de la porte lui frappa le visage et elle tomba au sol à l'atterrissage sur son dos. "C'est bon." Elle parlait tranquillement sa main gauche embravant son front alors que le gentil homme de taxi l'aidait à répéter ses excuses, il ne voulait évidemment pas le faire et Eleanor comprit que, cependant, il a essayé de s'excuser le plus souvent possible tout en l'asseyant dans la voiture et en déplaçant sa valise pour elle. « C'est un bel endroit plein de faune et d'animaux! Oh les animaux qu'ils sont vraiment étonnants vous devriez voir le-" Ellie a commencé à zone dehors de l'homme de taxi gibberish tandis qu'il a commencé à conduire. Toujours en embrayant son front, elle ressentait aussi des douleurs aiguës dans son bas du dos - où elle tombait. Pendant tout le voyage, elle regarda par la fenêtre, les arbres et les maisons qui passaient la calmant, elle s'enfuit lentement. Elle a levé la main de sa tête dès qu'elle a entendu le taxi dire "Nous sommes ici!" Enfin, l'homme de taxi a fait le trajet de 20 minutes se sentir comme pour toujours et le snooze qu'elle avait fait n'a pas fait de sa tête se sentir mieux. Mais dès qu'elle a regardé sa main, un petit morceau de sang était dans sa paume, 'Damn', elle a dit sous le souffle et a rapidement vérifié le miroir des conducteurs pour voir à quoi son visage ressemblait réellement. Alors qu'elle y apercevait une énorme forme de meurtrissure (environ la taille d'une prune) sur son front avec un léger graissage à côté. 'Oh garçon regarde dehors' elle s'est dit alors que l'homme de taxi est venu ouvrir sa porte, avant qu'il a vu rapidement elle a levé la main sur son front, elle squatte alors que sa paume lui a frappé le visage lourdement, elle a oublié que son ecchymose en fait blessé à l'impact et était trop occupé à penser à un moyen de le masquer assez rapidement. Alors qu'elle sortait du taxi, le conducteur lui a remis ses bagages et s'est tenu près de la porte, le conducteur s'est envolé et l'a laissée seule devant une cabine qu'elle n'avait jamais vue auparavant. Elle se ballotta à la porte encore tenant son front et finalement poussa la sonnette de porte avec son coude après de nombreux efforts, elle recula légèrement et regarda vers le haut de la cabine, il semblait beau et la vue de la cabine lui fit oublier de cacher son visage alors qu'elle descendait son bras vers le bas vers son côté.

Name: Eleanor/Ellie Dove Age: 17 (just turned last week) Height: 5"5 Weight: 116lb Sex:Female Gender: Female Orientation: Hetero/experimental HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance (description &/or image): lots of images (i got carried away shiina is too pretty) General Personality (description): If you do not know her Eleanor is a quiet girl-not shy just quiet. She will speak her mind but not in the strongest fashions and always has something to say but she will keep it under her breath. The first impression of Eleanor is a pushover girl considering her scholarship in art and speaking a different language (french). However once you get to know her she is quirky, confident, excited, hyper and down right annoying, Although she seems calm at all times.She enjoys winding people up and being sarcastic.

Doigts se déplaçant dans un flou réflexif, Dai ne regardait vers le bas son clavier pour entrer dans le nombre occasionnel ou symbole spécial qu'il n'avait pas tout à fait mémorisé, entièrement concentré sur ses diverses conversations, il n'a même pas entendu la musique qui jouait. Une conversation s'est évanouie, et tout comme il changeait de languette, il y a eu un bruit soudain, très fort et un peu odieux qui a inondé le salon, ce qui a entraîné Dai se taper la tête dans le mur derrière lui par surprise (bien qu'il ne soit pas assez difficile de lui causer des dommages ou lui-même). Il griffa la poitrine et soupira, le agita, et mit une main derrière la tête avant de se lever pour répondre à la porte, la possibilité que ce soit une sorte d'assassin ou une situation similaire lui avait complètement échappé l'esprit. Il avait laissé son ordinateur portable posé de façon hasardeuse sur le sol derrière lui. "Hell-" Il a commencé tranquillement, ouvrant la porte et s'adaptant à la lumière, bien qu'il faisait déjà relativement bon contact visuel (comme la plupart de ses amis étaient significativement plus petits que lui) "oh, putain-doll vous avez besoin de glace" il a dit dans un ton pressé mais plat, en fait presque tout ce qu'il a dit est sorti de cette façon, avec sa voix perpétuellement voilée. Il se tourna, dit-il par-dessus son épaule; « euh, entrez, asseyez-vous quelque part, je m'en fiche... » Il regardait autour, seulement de l'orge consciente d'être n'importe quelle sorte d'hôte, alors qu'il se déplaçait autour du coin à travers le salon et dans la cuisine, retournant là-bas peu après avec un petit paquet de glace. "Ouh." était tout ce qu'il pouvait gérer comme il l'a tenu à la fille, seulement maintenant à l'aube sur lui, il n'avait aucune idée de qui elle était.

Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe Age: 19 Height: 5'11 Weight: 120ibs Sex: Male Gender: Cis Male Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes. General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal.

Merci Eleanor a dit tranquillement de prendre la banquise et de la tenir contre son front avec sa main gauche qui se lançait au toucher froid, elle est tombée avec sa valise lourde presque trébuchante à la porte et s'est assise sur le canapé le plus proche, « Ce n'est rien de sérieux, juste une meurtrissure et un léger paissement ». S'ajuster dans le canapé, se détendre la tête et le cou, c'était tellement confortable par rapport au siège du train et au siège de taxi- un soulagement! La chambre autour d'elle était belle, magnifiquement décorée et parfaitement adaptée à la cabine. Bien que c'était extrêmement propre et rangé, ça lui ressemblait presque à la maison. C'est le garçon de Diana que le corbeau avait mentionné? Il est gentil' Elle pensait à elle-même comme elle jouait avec les volants à la fin de sa robe de corail léger (matching ses cheveux bien sûr). Elle a commencé à se tenir debout- bien au moins essayer- cependant sa tête a commencé à tourner, elle est retombée dans le canapé céleste et soupiré d'une certaine manière 'paralysé' contre les coussins son pied droit cousu derrière sa gauche, comfertable. Les gens! Eleanor a pensé à elle-même en fermant les yeux pendant un moment, toutes les lumières brillantes ont commencé à lui donner un mal de tête. -- Comment allez-vous? Elle demanda sans effort, sa tête étant trop lourde pour bouger, elle leva les yeux pour le voir à peu près par la droite d'elle. Toujours avec ses volants à la fin de sa robe.

Name: Eleanor/Ellie Dove Age: 17 (just turned last week) Height: 5"5 Weight: 116lb Sex:Female Gender: Female Orientation: Hetero/experimental HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance (description &/or image): lots of images (i got carried away shiina is too pretty) General Personality (description): If you do not know her Eleanor is a quiet girl-not shy just quiet. She will speak her mind but not in the strongest fashions and always has something to say but she will keep it under her breath. The first impression of Eleanor is a pushover girl considering her scholarship in art and speaking a different language (french). However once you get to know her she is quirky, confident, excited, hyper and down right annoying, Although she seems calm at all times.She enjoys winding people up and being sarcastic.

Je vais bien... Dai a brouillé, frottant l'arrière de sa tête involontairement alors qu'il ouvrait la porte d'entrée complètement et glissa un écran précédemment caché en place. Volant un coup d'oeil dans le salon, il a vérifié pour s'assurer que son ordinateur n'était pas cassé en deux ou quoi que ce soit... mais ça semblait bien, alors il s'est retourné vers la fille et, bien qu'à contrecœur, a pris place sur le petit canapé adjacent à elle dans la salle d'entrée. "Je suppose que vous êtes l'un des amis de Faith ou Raven? Je suis Dai. D - A - Je." Il épela rapidement, mais pas durement. Ils ont longuement parlé de rien en particulier, surtout des détails généraux de son voyage... tout petit discours qui a suivi l'explication embarrassante que Raven n'était pas encore arrivé. Le monde s'est allumé à l'extérieur, et comme ils parlaient le ciel est devenu un peu plus sombre encore.

Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe Age: 19 Height: 5'11 Weight: 120ibs Sex: Male Gender: Cis Male Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes. General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal.

La foi bâillait et s'étirait alors qu'elle se levait, le train était arrivé il y a quelques minutes et la réveillait grossièrement d'un sommeil léger. Faith n'avait pas pensé à la durée du voyage, mais elle aurait aimé arriver plus tôt qu'elle ne l'a fait. Faith a saisi la grande valise et la valise plus petite du compartiment ci-dessus. Quand Faith s'est tournée vers le bas de l'allée, elle s'est heurtée à un homme portant un costume d'affaires qui s'était plié les chaussures. "Oh bonhomme de barrage! Désolé, je ne t'ai pas vu là-bas." Faith a dit avec un grand sourire. L'homme d'affaires a juste brouillé quelque chose et est parti du train. En réalité, Faith était heureux d'avoir heurté une personne aussi coincée dans un uniforme. D'après ce que Dai avait dit à Faith sur l'invitation, il était supposé être le lieu de vacances pour les riches que la Faith pensait vouloir dire vêtements de vacances et non un costume. La foi s'est rapidement enfuie du train et est sortie sur la route qui s'en allait. En attendant ses occupants, il y avait plusieurs taxis qui semblaient refléter le genre de personnes qui venaient ici. Chacun était si brillant que la Foi pouvait se voir en elle, mais la Foi n'avait aucun mal à sauter en une seule. La foi a heureusement dit à l'homme de l'emmener à la maison du lac Starlight. La voiture était bien ventilée et l'homme avait des histoires et des commentaires intéressants sur le maquillage de Faith. Faith a appris que le chauffeur, Jake, avait une fille autour de son âge qui lui rappelait tellement de sa femme décédée qu'il craignait qu'il la repousse. La foi supprimait les craintes de l'homme avec le fait qu'il n'avait besoin que de se lier avec la femme qu'elle est et ne s'inquiétait pas de la similitude avec sa femme. Dans l'ensemble, Faith était heureuse d'avoir une conversation pour lui permettre une distraction du paysage normalement ennuyeux. La voiture s'est arrêtée à la cabine et Faith s'est enfuie et lui a dit au revoir à Jake. La foi était stupéfaite de la beauté du design de la cabane. Elle n'avait aucun problème à s'émerveiller devant le beau bois et les fleurs étonnantes autour de la région. Faith a rapidement remonté l'escalier et frappé à la porte dans une série de coups qui ont mélangé un deux-trois-deux. Le coup était plutôt joyeux et devait être comme tel afin de permettre à Dai un petit indice que quelqu'un est arrivé.

Name:Faith Simmons Age:17 Height:5'7 Weight:134lbs Sex: Female Gender: Female Orientation:Pansexual(means she dates based on personality not gender) HandedNess: General Personality (description): Faith is not much one for ideal conversation but she takes as much part in it as possible. She is a generally nice girl with a bit of a temper problem. In the past, Faith use to cut herself but she has stopped leaving behind only a few scars on her arms that she tries to cover. Faith likes people who give stimulating and intelligent conversation. She will never curse but will try to hit something should she get angry. She is quick to make up her mind about people and few things change her mind once it is set. Faith gives everyone she meets a degree of trust which is hard to lose.

Je ne sors pas avec yooooooou! Même si je pense que c'est ta cuuuute! Richard chanta fort alors qu'il conduisait sa voiture vers sa destination. Il a frappé ses mains contre le volant au battement du tambour et a cogné la tête au battement. La voiture était une berline du début des années 2000 qui avait évidemment traversé beaucoup de choses. Il y avait des bosselures et de la peinture écaillée juste jonchée sur le corps du véhicule. C'était bruyant quand il est passé, sans doute à cause du silencieux merdique. Même si la voiture était une merde, Richard s'en foutait, c'était la seule voiture qu'il pouvait vraiment se permettre et en toute honnêteté, il s'était habitué à ses problèmes constants. L'arrière de la voiture a été empilé avec à la fois des déchets et des fournitures pour son temps à la cabine. Il y avait un sac de duffel rempli de vêtements qui avaient évidemment juste été fourrés là-dedans sans être pliés. Il y avait aussi une couverture et un oreiller à l'arrière parce qu'il était presque sûr qu'il allait dormir sur le canapé ou le plancher en jugeant par la quantité de CC il y avait dans l'email qu'il a obtenu l'inviter dehors. Il y avait quelques étuis de guitare, l'un était un Epiphone G-400 Vintage SG qui était placé dans le siège passagers avec un ampli d'accompagnement placé sur le sol (mais c'était un ampli plus petit que celui qu'il avait l'habitude) ainsi qu'une guitare acoustique Gibson bon marché placée dans le dos. Il n'était pas vraiment sûr pourquoi il a apporté tout ça à ce "cabin" comme il savait que ce n'était pas comme s'il devait étudier sur sa guitare, mais s'il pouvait obtenir un peu d'entraînement ici et là avant de retourner à l'école, ce serait tout ok. À vrai dire, il ne s'attendait pas à sortir de sa ville cet été. Autant qu'il aimait passer du temps avec sa famille et ses amis, il n'y a que tellement de choses qu'il pouvait prendre avant d'être complètement épuisé par tout ça. Alors quand il a reçu un email d'une de ses connaissances pour aller dans une cabine maximale avec d'autres personnes, comment a-t-il pu refuser? Le courriel disait qu'il y aurait eu un trajet en train ainsi qu'un service de taxi, mais Richard pensait que ce serait mieux de le conduire. Ce n'était pas trop loin de sa ville natale et il pouvait chanter jusqu'à ce qu'il voulait dans sa propre voiture sans penser à la mauvaise façon dont les autres voulaient qu'il s'arrête dans un train ou même un taxi. Il espérait juste qu'il pourrait peut-être obtenir le remboursement de l'argent de l'essence parce qu'il a fourni son propre transport Il a refusé la rue où se trouvait la maison et a remarqué à quel point tous les autres endroits étaient grands, beaucoup plus différents que dans la ville avec tous les appartements serrés et les vitrines. En regardant toutes les maisons, il a finalement remarqué celle qu'il était censé se diriger vers et il s'est transformé en allée, la voiture venant à une halte de brouillage à l'extérieur de la maison. Il s'est fait une note mentale pour obtenir de nouvelles plaquettes de frein alors qu'il éteignait la musique, sortait de la voiture et s'étirait. Il portait un t-shirt J Mascis avec un jean denim foncé serré et des lunettes de soleil avec des cadres bleus. Il a brossé la main à travers ses cheveux et a marché vers la porte, sachant seulement qu'il était censé rencontrer quelqu'un, peut-être une fille, du nom de Diana. Il a remarqué que quelqu'un était déjà arrivé et attendait d'entrer, Richard a supposé qu'elle avait déjà utilisé la sonnette de porte ou frappé à la porte alors il est monté et se tenait derrière elle. "Hé" Il a dit avec un sourire sur son visage alors qu'il attendait d'être laissé entrer.

Name: Richard "Rich" Masters Age: 19 Height: 5'9" Weight: 135 Sex: Male Gender: Male Identifying Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: A bit lanky as he is underweight for his age. He's almost never seen without sunglasses on and he's usually wearing some kind of band or media related t-shirt. General Personality: Layed back and relaxed mostly. What a lot of people would describe as having the personality of a stoner, even if he does not do any drugs. It's not like he could afford a drug habit anyway, being a music major doesn't really facilitate a lot of steady income. --- Hope this is alright and I didn't leave anything out.

Au fur et à mesure que le train s'élançait le long des voies, Rayne ne pouvait s'empêcher de tapoter le pied avec enthousiasme. Ses étés consistaient en lui dormant à l'envers dans son salon pendant des semaines, alors quand il a reçu un texto de son ami Faith l'invitant à une cabane pour l'été, il a sauté à l'idée. L'invitation avait dit qu'il pouvait inviter quelqu'un, donc Rayne a supposé qu'inviter tout le monde dans sa liste de contacts était ok aussi. Il sourit largement avant de remarquer que la personne à côté de lui regardait au loin. Il se leva et marcha derrière eux, mettant sa tête à côté de la leur et regardant par la fenêtre. Il a demandé curieusement. Il a passé le reste du voyage en train à parler de son nouvel ami. Il s'est avéré qu'il allait dans une ville quelques arrêts après Alice, donc il a bavardé heureux jusqu'à ce qu'il entende l'annonce « Prochain arrêt, Alice » Il a dit comme il a saisi sa valise roulante dans sa main gauche et sa mallette dans l'autre. Il a fait signe à son nouvel ami au revoir alors qu'il courait hors du train, excité d'arriver enfin à sa destination. Il a couru sur le sentier jusqu'à ce qu'on l'accueille à la vue des taxis qui attendent sur le côté de la route. Cela devait être ce que la foi voulait dire par « frais payés ». Il courut jusqu'à l'un des taxis et ouvrit la porte du siège arrière, jetant ses sacs et prenant place et se penchant vers le conducteur. Il a dit comme il souriait grand à l'homme. Au cours du voyage, il s'est engagé dans une conversation agréable sur la région avec le chauffeur. Apparemment, c'était un endroit calme et agréable où les gens venaient souvent pour se détendre et se détendre. Après environ vingt minutes, il est finalement arrivé à la maison. Il a serré son visage contre la fenêtre alors qu'il admirait les bâtiments de taille impressionnante. Il a dit avec un étrange murmure que son visage s'est écrasé contre le verre. Il était habitué à vivre dans un appartement de trois pièces qui était d'environ la taille d'un hangar à outils, donc c'était un changement très bienvenu. Il a remercié le chauffeur avant d'attraper ses affaires et d'agiter le taxi alors qu'il remontait le chemin. Alors qu'il se tournait pour regarder la porte d'entrée, il remarqua quelques gens familiers. Il a couru vers le haut des marches avant de déposer sa valise et d'envelopper ses bras autour de la fille par derrière. "Hé là-bas, la foi!" Il a dit avec un grand sourire comme il l'a serrée dans ses bras. Ils étaient amis, donc il pouvait l'embrasser sans avoir peur d'être crié dessus. Pour une raison quelconque, les étrangers ont toujours trouvé ça étrange quand il les a serrés dans ses bras. Il regarda l'une des personnes qu'il avait invitées. Il a crié alors qu'il lâchait son emprise sur la fille et l'a serré dans ses bras. Il a laissé le garçon s'en aller et s'est retiré, ramassant les bagages qu'il avait déposés. Comment va tout le monde aujourd'hui? – Il a demandé avec un grand sourire, heureux de voir quelques-uns de ses amis.

Name: Rayne Maxwell Age: 18 Height: 5’7 Weight: 115ibs Sex: Male Gender: Male Orientation: A bit of this and a bit of that. (Bisexual) HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance (description &/or image): Rayne is a fairly skinny guy with long arms and legs. Favourite clothes include jeans and long sleeved shirts when it’s cold, and a normal shirt and still jeans when it’s hot. General Personality (description): In a word, eccentric would be the most fitting for Rayne. He is fun loving and very active, always running around and playing. He is always smiling, doing his best to lighten the mood, even if he is sad or depressed. When asked as a kid ‘What is the one thing you want the most?’ His answer was ‘I want everyone in the world to smile’. This is the motto he lives by every day, doing his best to be happy with his friends. (Side note, he is rather flirtatious with almost everyone he meets)

"Erh, hé? C'est notre arrêt. Une main lui tendit l'épaule légèrement avant une libération rapide, mais Calliope sentit encore la présence imminente alors qu'elle s'éveillait, un œil s'ouvrant pour regarder vers le haut curieusement. Un homme plutôt arrogant se tenait au-dessus d'elle, les yeux bruns pleins de bonté tandis qu'il attendait pour s'assurer qu'elle était éveillée avant de partir. Au revoir à son petit compagnon, Calliope a pris ses bagages et est descendu du train. Elle se déplaçait lentement, mais seulement à cause de l'animal de compagnie qu'elle jetait ainsi que de son propre sac à dos impressionnant. Le sac à dos avait vu de meilleurs jours, ayant été utilisé pour de nombreuses randonnées difficiles à travers les montagnes et les forêts, mais il convenait à son corps et pouvait tenir tout ce dont elle avait besoin sans laisser trop de place pour les inutiles. Je l'ai eu, merci.Éliminer le chauffeur de taxi quand il a essayé d'attraper Rosco, son tom orange et blanc, Calliope a glissé dans le taxi et a plié son animal de compagnie à côté d'elle. Elle ne savait pas ce que Rayne dirait, mais Rosco était sa famille et sa responsabilité et même pour un chat qu'il était facile à garder autour – n'avait pas besoin d'une litière ou même de nourriture la plupart du temps si sa chasse allait bien. Elle ne pouvait certainement pas le laisser avec sa famille et leur nouveau chien d'accueil problématique. Une brève inquiétude a surgi au sujet des prédateurs, mais Rosco était un chat de grange et un vétéran – les renards, les coyotes, de tels prédateurs étaient monnaie courante. Se réinstallant dans le siège, Calliope a dit au conducteur sa destination L'entraînement est passé, mais c'est peut-être parce que Calliope traînait le long de Roland Deschain dans la cinquantième lecture de The Gunslinger. Sa posture était comique, ayant glissé dans le siège jusqu'à ce que ses jambes reposaient contre l'arrière du siège passager avant et sa tête bien au-dessous de l'appuie-tête. Sur sa lèvre inférieure, Calliope a enduré la course dans un silence agréable et quand le chauffeur de taxi a amené la voiture pour s'arrêter, elle lui a donné un gros pourboire pour ne pas être bavard et gênant. C'était juste, puisque tout le reste était apparemment payé. Une fronce sillonna son front à cette pensée, mais Calliope ne put pas garder l'inquiétude tant qu'elle eut un premier aperçu de la maison du lac et de ses environs. Durement impressionnée, elle a laissé le taxi l'aider et a glissé son sac à dos sur une épaule. Rosco fit un bruit de grondement du sol, déplaisant de son emprisonnement continu. Après une évaluation approfondie de son environnement, elle a finalement zoné sur le porche de la maison et le rassemblement là-bas. Elle a immédiatement reconnu Rayne et a pensé que l'autre gars semblait familier, mais elle ne pouvait pas immédiatement le placer. Comme tout le monde était occupé à se saluer, Calliope était capable de marcher relativement inaperçu. En plaçant Rosco sur le côté et hors du chemin du mal, elle a déposé son sac à dos au sol et a regardé au groupe avec un sourire d'argent rapide. Hullo, Rayne. Hullo, d'autres personnes. Je suis Calliope.Ses yeux flippaient brièvement, rappelant les diverses réactions inspirées par son nom, mais la méfiance au sujet des plaisanteries potentielles en attente était tout simplement trop d'effort et un second sourire éclairait brièvement son visage.

Name Calliope (Ka-ly-oh-pee) Nickname Callie, based on spelling rather than pronunciation Age 18 Sex Female Gender Female Orientation Straight Height 5'6" Weight 130 lbs Appearance She is not quite slim, but being active and the blessed metabolism of good genetics has kept her weight steady. She is likely more squish than muscle, despite liking to spend time outdoors being active. Her hair is considered fine and straight, both naturally blonde and artificially lightened. Eyes that dance between a clear evening's azure and a stormy grey sky seem darker and more dramatic against her fair skin, free of freckles but for her shoulders. She tries to wear contacts but has little patience for discomfort and often ends up wearing glasses instead. Handedness Right Personality If asked to describe herself, Calliope would probably struggle and end up just saying her likes, which are decently rounded in terms of variety: knitting and rappelling, cats and kickboxing. Reading a book while laying on a blanket with a hot sun and cool wind, the smell of spring all around her. After that, perhaps she'd find characteristics, but Calliope has always been suspicious of self-evaluations, figuring a person is always predisposed to be somewhat wrong about themselves, whether in too good or too negative a fashion. In the same frame she's critical of most things dealing with online tests or astrology, preferring rather a clean and precise science. A mellow woman, her voice is uncommonly low and smooth of tone, making her often seem as if she's on the verge of sleep or without a care in the world. Her laughter is quick and easy but ofttimes she misses the joke due to taking it a little too literally, worse sometimes because her ability for subtlety has never been wholly present. She's usually optimistic but never quite reaches bubbly, her temper seldom sparking but being the worse when it does.

Est-ce que tout Dai pouvait se débrouiller, se tenir maladroitement dans la porte juste derrière l'écran mince, "bienvenue?", ses yeux dérivant entre les quatre d'entre eux et finalement s'installant sur la foi, qui a considérablement apaisé son esprit. Il avait laissé Eleanor sur le canapé dans la salle d'entrée un peu plus tôt pour qu'elle puisse se reposer, et même si le coup avait été suffisant pour le faire sortir de son ordinateur, il était certain qu'elle dormait encore, mais malgré cela, il l'a regardée avec inquiétude avant de glisser la porte de l'écran ouverte, la laissant disparaître soigneusement dans le cadre de la porte, et sortir sur le porche. Il était légèrement ensanglanté, un trait typique de lui quand il n'était pas dans ce qu'il considérait comme public, et cela l'a fait descendre de quelques pouces à environ cinq pieds huit, et de nouveau, comme il l'avait fait pendant les dix ou vingt dernières minutes, il a subconsciemment frotté l'arrière de sa tête et a commencé à violoner avec ses cheveux, tout en évitant décidément un contact oculaire prolongé avec l'un des garçons qu'il ne connaissait pas. Mais, ayant été debout juste assez longtemps pour voir la dernière fille arriver, il lui sourit et dit, dans une voix aussi amicale qu'il pouvait rassembler; "Je suis Diana."

Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe Age: 19 Height: 5'11 Weight: 120ibs Sex: Male Gender: Cis Male Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes. General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal.

Peter-Jason, ou P-J comme il le préférait, venait d'une famille irlandaise catholique de classe ING où son père était détective de l'homicide, maman était professeur d'histoire des États-Unis, et trois frères et quatre enfants. P-J a eu son choix d'universités à choisir, parce qu'il était le 3ème classé Outside Linebacker dans le pays. Bien que l'université qu'il fréquentait n'était pas une centrale électrique, ils ont offert à P-J une chose que les autres grands noms ne pouvaient pas, et c'était une position de départ dès le premier jour. Le football n'allait pas être sa carrière, c'était un tremplin pour sa vraie carrière, et c'était être médecin. Toutes les indications étaient que s'il continuait à élever son niveau de jeu chaque année, il serait un choix top-dix dans trois ans. P-J jouerait 5 peut-être 6 ans dans la NFL et se retirerait pour qu'il puisse aller à l'école de médecine. P-J s'assit dans sa voiture de train pendant qu'elle roulait à travers la mi-journée, et réfléchit sur toute sa vie de voyage à ce point. P-J a partagé la balade avec un couple âgé et une fille de sept ans qui allait rendre visite à son père pour l'été. Les trois d'entre eux étaient en route pour la ville juste après Alice, et P-J a écouté poliment quand ils lui ont parlé. Il appréciait le fait qu'ils étaient prêts à parler d'eux-mêmes pour la majorité du voyage. Depuis que l'équipe a été catapultée dans le Spotlight national par une course miracle à un BCS Bowl Game, il avait l'impression que son temps n'était pas le sien. Parler d'engagements, d'entrevues, faire partie de l'Église catholique locale, et bien sûr le plaisir habituel qui vient d'être un étudiant-athlète. C'était sa chance pendant un moment de se détendre, de voir de vieux amis de l'école, et bien sûr en faire de nouveaux. Au cours des deux dernières semaines de l'école, P-J a commencé à montrer des signes de stress. Il semblait que tout était hors de contrôle, et c'était quand l'un de ses meilleurs amis de l'école est entré en jeu. Rayne Maxwell allait passer l'été avec des amis dans une cabane, et il a été autorisé à inviter certains de ses amis aussi. Rayne pouvait dire que ce voyage était exactement ce dont P-J aurait besoin, et il ne savait pas comment il avait raison. Les parents de P-J étaient d'abord réticents à le laisser partir, mais comme ils ne pouvaient pas se permettre de l'envoyer n'importe où quand il a obtenu son diplôme de lycée il y a plus d'un an, ils ont accepté de le laisser partir. Bien que son père espérait rentrer à la maison et prendre le travail d'été de réorganiser la salle de disques à la gare. Cependant, il savait que P-J avait besoin de s'amuser pendant un moment cette année était difficile pour lui. Alors que le train s'arrêtait, le portier appelait sur le P-A, « Bienvenue dans la belle et pittoresque ville d'Alice! » P-J s'est levé et a dit : "C'est pour moi." Il rassembla son sac et dit à ses compagnons: «Merci d'être si grande compagnie. Prenez soin de vous et voyagez en toute sécurité." P-J leur sourit et sortit de la voiture Une fois qu'il était sur la plate-forme P-J a rassemblé sa valise et un sac à vêtements. Il a regardé autour de lui et a demandé, "D'accord maintenant ce que McCabe?" Alors que le train s'éloignait, à l'exception de quelques ouvriers qui rentraient à la station P-J, il se rendait compte qu'il était tout seul. P-J s'est serré les épaules et a dit, "Eh bien, tu voulais t'éloigner de tout ça." P-J secoua la tête et dit, "Soyez prudent ce que vous demandez juste pourrait l'obtenir." P-J est passé par la gare et par la fenêtre il a vu un taxi. P-J s'approcha du taxi et demanda : "Excusez-moi? Pouvez-vous m'amener à cette adresse?" P-J lui a remis un bout de papier avec une adresse dessus et le chauffeur a répondu, "Bonne adresse là Chef! Oui, il n'y a pas de problème. P-J est entré dans le taxi et ils étaient en route. Le chauffeur a demandé : "Alors, qu'est-ce que tu as là-haut?" P-J prenait le décor et sentait le stress le quitter. Il a répondu, "Juste voir quelques amis pour l'été." Le chauffeur a dit, "Wow! J'aimerais avoir des amis comme ça." P-J a glissé et est arrivé à la route pour arriver à la cabine. Quand P-J a vu la cabine, il a senti sa mâchoire tomber et ses yeux grandissent. Le porche seul était plus grand que la chambre qu'il partageait avec son frère Alex. P-J secoua la tête lentement et dit sous son souffle, "Toto, je ne pense plus qu'on soit au Kansas." P-J a sorti ses bagages du taxi et a payé le chauffeur. Il s'est approché de la porte d'entrée et a dit, "D'accord, ici rien ne va." Avec cela, il ouvrit la porte et vit un tourbillon d'activité qui le fit sourire pour une raison quelconque. P-J a alors annoncé, "Bonjour tout le monde surtout à Rayne Maxwell qui m'a invité ici. Je suis réfugié de la salle 106-D de Belk Hall pour l'été. Son nom est Peter Jason McCabe, mais s'il vous plaît appelez-moi P-J."

Name: Peter Jason McCabe (Goes by P-J) Age: 19 Height: 6' 2" Weight: 220 Sex: Male Gender: Male Orientation: Hetero HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance Also has a scar on his left hand. General Personality: P-J is sizable and is going to the University of Pittsburgh on a football scholarship, but don't let that fool you. He is an easy going guy who likes hanging out with his friends and enjoys having a good laugh. P-J doesn't believe in using his size to intimidate others and likes helping others. P-J has a sarcastic wit and at times doesn't know when to turn it off. If he goes over the line with it he will be the first to apologize for it and do what he can to have someone forgive him. However do not EVER mistake P-J's kindness for weakness, and if you ever do cross him or hurt one of his friends P-J is not above hurting you.

Alors que le train s'arrêtait à la gare, Tyson ne pouvait s'empêcher de casser un sourire denté alors qu'il regardait le beau paysage de la ville d'Alice. Il avait d'abord été un peu sceptique quand son ami Faith lui avait envoyé une invitation à passer l'été dans une cabane avec un de ses amis, mais voir l'endroit de ses propres yeux le rendait heureux qu'il ait accepté de venir. C'était bien mieux que de passer l'été dans un camp de lutte ou avec sa drôle de tante Béatrice, c'est sûr. Alors qu'il envisageait lequel des deux aurait été pire, un homme bâclé a pris sa note du siège au-dessus de lui, souriant alors qu'il annonçait qu'ils étaient arrivés à sa destination en temps parfait. Tyson, hoche la tête alors qu'il sautait pratiquement de son siège, sac à dos accroché sur son épaule droite et un petit sac à main que son père lui avait laissé emprunter serré dans sa main gauche. En sortant du train dans l'éclat de la fin de l'après-midi, Tyson a repéré une rangée de taxis qui l'accuse pratiquement d'aller de l'avant alors qu'il essayait de prendre toutes les merveilles autour de lui. En prenant ces vues, cependant, le jeune homme s'est rendu compte à quel point il avait l'air hors de sa place par rapport à la majorité de ceux qui mouillaient au sujet de la station. La plupart étaient habillés très « bien-à-faire » et comme, alors qu'il portait lui-même un simple t-shirt de l'une de ses rencontres de lutte, jeans bleu. et ses chaussures de course préférées. La foi le dirait probablement pour cela, comme elle l'avait dit son amie et la région étaient très riches. En tout cas, cette pensée l'a fait prendre le rythme alors qu'il se précipitait vers l'un des taxis, le conducteur s'inclinant la tête alors qu'il sautait le coffre pour que Tyson mette ses affaires. Après avoir jeté ses affaires dans le dos, il a sauté dans l'arrière de la cabine, chevauchant avec un morceau de papier de son portefeuille alors que le chauffeur de taxi attendait les directions. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Je crois que l'endroit où je suis censé être s'appelle Sunlife Cabin?" Tyson a eu un regard étrange de la part du chauffeur, ce qui l'a amené à regarder en arrière le journal, ses joues rougissant comme il l'a fait. "Oh, je veux dire Starlight Cabin! Désolé, mec, j'essaie d'avoir mes repères, je n'avais pas l'habitude d'être dans un endroit comme celui-ci." Le chauffeur de taxi s'est contenté de rire et lui a dit de ne pas s'en inquiéter, lui demandant si la station qu'il avait jouée serait bien pour la vingt minute en voiture de la cabine. Tyson a simplement souri et hoche la tête, les airs cool de Hendrix jouant loin. Un bouffon de maladie à la maison l'a frappé, comme son père a toujours été écouté les classiques, mais il savait que cela allait s'effondrer dès qu'il était à la cabane avec ses amis. L'entraînement semblait être terminé en un clin d'œil, alors que le chauffeur de taxi s'est envolé pour aider Tyson à retirer ses bagages de l'arrière. Le conducteur a dit que tous les services avaient été payés sur cette route, tandis que Tyson se sentait mal de ne pas rembourser le conducteur pour les airs et la conduite en douceur. Finalement, ils secouèrent la main, Tyson grimpant un billet de dix dollars dans la main des hommes et se précipitant vers la cabane avant de pouvoir protester. On aurait dit que le gang était là, alors qu'il voyait Faith et Rayne sur le porche, avec quelques autres adolescents qu'il ne reconnaissait pas. Eh bien, ici rien ne va. Il pensait à lui-même alors qu'il se dirigeait vers le porche. "Hé les gars! Fait bon de vous voir et Rayne, je suis surpris que la lutte antiparasitaire vous ait permis de quitter le train." Tyson riait alors qu'il faisait son entrée, s'amusant à se tourner vers les autres. "Je m'excuse, je suis Tyson, ami de Foi et Rayne à votre service."

Name: Tyson Avery Age: 18 Height: 6' Weight: 190 Sex: Male Orientation: Heterosexual HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance (description &/or image): General Personality (description): Tyson is kind of a goof ball, but mainly only acts that way as he is actually very shy. This obviously clashes with his outward appearance, being bigger than most guys his age, as well as toned from his time on the school wrestling team. On the inside, he's really a delicate guy, but due to his bulky appearance and joking manner, most aren't aware of this. Not an aggressive guy whatsoever. Kind of a rough CS, I'll flesh it out more if ya like.

Kevin Sinnet s'est promené de la station animée, un sac à volant noir hissé autour de son cadre mince et robuste. Des années d'expérience dans son équipe de baseball au lycée l'ont aidé à porter des sacs, de sorte qu'il ne se plaignait pas en sortant de son lourd bagage, où les derniers rayons rayonnants du soleil couchant l'ont comblé d'une splendeur ardente qui enrobait le monde d'or. Il a été momentanément repris par la sérénité de l'atmosphère, et il a permis aux escargots de l'air frais d'été ont tendance à sa peau flustered, le jeune homme chaud après avoir été enfermé dans un compartiment à l'étroit d'un très long trajet en train. Curieux passant l'a regardé avec de petits sourires et de douces vagues alors qu'il se manoeuvrait poliment à la très longue ligne de taxis où des chauffeurs généreux s'approchaient des nouveaux arrivants dans l'espoir de gagner la dernière de leur commission pour la nuit. Kevin lui-même a été approché par un homme d'âge moyen d'une construction robuste, se présentant comme Ryan. "Bienvenue dans la ville d'Alice, petit! Magnifique petite ville, hein?" L'homme a frappé sa poitrine, signalant au jeune homme qu'il était fier d'être originaire de cette ville rafraîchissante. Kevin sourit, renversant sa casquette bleue de baseball qui avait un "N" blanc emblazoned sur le devant - sa casquette varsity Newberg High School qui était le seul chapeau qu'il portait. "C'est vraiment le cas! Quel endroit. En fait, j'ai un peu honte que je n'aie jamais visité auparavant." Kevin secoua la tête en s'émerveillant tandis que l'homme bruissant laissait éclater de rire, conduisant le jeune homme à l'arrière du taxi où il sauta le coffre ouvert. Kevin a hurlé en remerciement, son sourire toujours évident comme il a lâché sa lourde duffle avec un fort bruit. "Tha, c'est ce que tous les gens disent après être venus ici. Eh bien, je peux honnêtement dire que je parle pour le reste de la ville quand je dis qu'Alice est honorée de répondre à un invité aussi poli! Alors, où, jeune?" L'aîné a tapé Kevin à peu près sur le dos, faisant trébucher le garçon, mais Kevin a juste éclaté en riant. C'était tellement rafraîchissant. Il a fait le bon choix en venant ici pour échapper aux réalités plus dures de sa ville bondée. C'était très gentil à Rayne de l'inviter ; bien que les deux hommes se soient bien entendus, ils n'étaient pas aussi proches l'un de l'autre qu'à leurs cercles sociaux respectifs. Pourtant, la plupart de ses potes étant hors d'état pour l'été, Kevin a demandé à Rayne de le remercier, de lui avoir hissé une ligne de sauvetage qui l'a sauvé de l'ennui. Il y avait aussi une autre personne nommée Diana qu'il aurait dû remercier une fois qu'il y serait arrivé; sans lui, rien de tout cela n'aurait été possible. Le jeune homme a pris une profonde respiration, fermant les yeux et a juste pris le moment de s'amuser dans la chaleur du soleil mourant. Il a fait un effort chaleureux et satisfaisant avant de se tourner vers Ryan. "Auriez-vous entendu parler de la Cabine Starlight?" Kevin a souri. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Le trajet en voiture de vingt minutes a été transformé en un voyage enchanteur qui a exposé Kevin Sinnet aux vraies beautés du monde. Jamais auparavant le jeune homme n'avait jeté les yeux sur une telle splendeur tranquille et des couleurs vives. Pendant toute la durée de la course, le garçon s'était penché contre la fenêtre, les coudes s'étaient appuyés sur son menton reposant sur son poignet et... il avait tout pris. Sa bouche était légèrement agape, ses yeux s'évanouissaient, et Ryan s'en alla avec le regard occasionnel sur le miroir de la vue arrière, souriant d'une manière fière. Mais à la moindre répugnance de Kevin, l'expérience surréaliste a pris fin alors que la voiture se garait de façon inattendue au bord d'une allée de terre qui s'est enroulée plus profondément dans les bois. Cependant, alors que Kevin s'évanouissait de sa transe, l'excitation éveillait son cœur, car il voyait vaguement les contours de la cabine. Le garçon est sorti de la voiture, donnant un bâillon ludique pendant que Ryan sortait et se dirigeait vers le coffre. Kevin a dépoussiéré son pantalon noir et son manches longues bleues qui avaient les manches roulées, faisant gentiment son chemin vers l'arrière, essayant de ne pas avoir de saleté sur ses baskets blanches. Avec l'aide de l'homme plus âgé, Kevin a réussi à hisser sa gourdine sur ses épaules avec facilité. Les deux hommes se sont alors affrontés alors que le coffre s'est fermé, souriant. "Bon de te rencontrer, Ryan. Merci pour le voyage en douceur et en sécurité. Merde, quel endroit." Kevin s'est claqué, changeant son chapeau joyeusement sur sa tête. L'homme plus âgé riait, approchant d'une main. "N'importe quand, gamin. Vous vous amusez, vous entendez? Soyez en sécurité, et profitez des merveilles d'Alice. Si tu retournes en ville un jour, ne t'inquiète pas pour les produits locaux. Nous avons des jeunes femmes, c'est une espèce de genre." Ryan a fait un clin d'œil avant de faire rire le jeune homme qui a serré la main du monsieur avec une poignée de main solide, échangeant l'argent pour le tour. Ryan a encore clin d'oeil en merci. Avec les dernières vagues et les adieux, Kevin regarda le taxi jaune sortir, fit demi-tour et se dirigea vers la ville. Avec sa signature, le sourire boyish toujours sur son visage, Kevin tourna et se dirigea vers la cabane. Alors qu'il se rapprochait de l'énorme bâtiment, il vit un groupe de gens se mêler sur le porche. "Ah, tire. On dirait que je suis l'un des derniers, hein?" Sans hésitation, il s'approche et avise son arrivée. Là, sur le porche, il vit Rayne, et il s'enfuit, s'accroupit et ferma son ami sur l'épaule. Il s'est tourné vers le reste des gens, rayonnant, reconnaissant certains visages et en enregistrant de nouveaux. Il a laissé sortir un help surpris alors qu'il voyait Callie, une fille qu'il rencontre occasionnellement avec son groupe d'escalade, la agitant et souriant avec éclat. De nouveaux visages ou de vieux, il a dirigé une introduction amusante vers eux. "Bon de vous voir tous! Mon nom est Kevin, et on dirait qu'on est dans un enfer d'été, oui?" le jeune homme a souri à la foule, une main reposant sur les sangles autour de son épaule, et l'autre ajustant sa casquette de baseball de façon ludique. Ses yeux bruns scintillent comme les jeunes étoiles émergeant du ciel obscurcissant. « J'ai hâte de m'amuser avec vous tous, et faisons de notre mieux! »

Name: Kevin Sinnet Age: 19 Height: 5'9 Weight: 135 lbs Sex: Male Gender: Male Orientation: Heterosexual HandedNess: Left Appearance: A slender, young man with a slightly toned build due to the many physical activities he used to participate in years prior from entering uni. His frame, although thin, can be described as lithe but sturdy. His hair is of medium length, stark under normal lighting conditions but glows a soft golden-brown if presented under the radiance of the sun. The tone of his skin is slightly tan, just a step or two darker than fair. His eyes are pools of chocolate; dark and piercing but warm and comforting. The most defining characteristic about Kevin Sinnet is his smile - slightly crooked, but in a charming, unique manner. General Personality: Charismatic and sociable, Kevin is an optimistic individual who's not afraid to speak his mind. He's well mannered and understanding, as his public self seems to radiate a certain charm. He tends to get along easily with people, as he puts himself out there and is usually the first one to introduce himself. He's the type of person that accepts everyone equally as he is not a person that judges. Kevin Sinnet's cheerful personality is not over the top, but rather refreshing and genuine. As a private individual, however, Kevin Sinnet is selfish and stubborn. Everything has to be his way, though he hides these hidden desires pretty well. If angered to the point where these values may become vulnerable, he usually becomes silent, distant, and aloof. Light, gentle, respectable and understanding are keywords to describing his refreshing character. Boom! Here's mine. Can't wait to see all of yours. I'm excited for all of the mingling, drama, and fun. :)

Richard entendit une voix familière de derrière lui et regarda pour voir qui c'était, et ce n'était rien d'autre que Rayne, la personne qui l'a amené ici en premier lieu. Il lui sourit brillamment et, après le bref câlin qu'ils partageaient, Richard continua à répondre à la question qui lui était posée. "Je me débrouille bien aujourd'hui, je viens d'arriver dans ce junker là-bas." Il montre sa voiture qui était toujours assise devant la maison. « Ce n'est pas grand-chose, mais c'est fait. Je tiens aussi à vous remercier beaucoup pour l'invitation, sans elle, j'aurais été enfermé chez moi pour avoir à parler avec des gens à qui je n'ai pas parlé depuis l'été dernier, et il y a une raison pour laquelle je ne leur ai pas parlé depuis l'été dernier. » Il a dit avec un sourire ridicule qu'il réalisait un autre taxi jaune qui s'arrêtait. La femme qui marchait vers eux semblait familière à Richard, bien qu'il ne pouvait pas tout à fait mettre son doigt sur pourquoi elle pensait qu'elle l'était. Cependant, il a vu un chat et qui a fait son changement d'attention, les chats étaient son animal préféré et l'ajout d'un à ce cadre spécifique pourrait rendre l'été encore meilleur qu'il ne l'avait pensé auparavant. La femme s'est présentée comme Calliope, Richard pensait que c'était un joli nom, avait une certaine qualité royale. "Je suis Richard, mais la plupart des gens m'appellent Rich." Il a dit avec un sourire et un clin d'œil dans sa direction avant d'entendre la porte ouverte. Au début, Richard a supposé que ce devait être un autre invité qui était arrivé là avant tout le monde, mais comme il s'est avéré que c'était en fait la Diana de l'e-mail. Il était différent que prévu, d'une part, son genre était différent de ce qu'il pensait à l'origine, mais Richard l'a juste pensé comme quelque chose Evil Dead où le gars a un nom de fille typique mais passe probablement par une forme courte afin de traiter avec les gens qui pensent bizarrement d'eux. Richard a décidé de ne pas laisser savoir qu'il pensait que l'hôte était d'un genre différent de ce qu'on pensait à l'origine, ce n'est probablement pas bon pour les premières impressions sur les gens. "Rich Masters ici, l'un des plus nombreux de Rayne." Il a dit après que Diana s'est présenté à la petite foule dehors. Bientôt est venu un autre taxi jaune, celui qui transportait un gars vraiment construit. Richard ne pouvait pas s'empêcher de se sentir un peu insuffisant quand il a vu ce gars, il était tellement en forme qu'il devait être une sorte de footballeur ou d'haltérophilie, ou comme un soldat ou quelque chose comme ça. L'homme s'est présenté comme P-J, un autre invité de Rayne. Puis était un autre gars vraiment construit, celui-ci nommé Tyson qui est aussi venu dans un taxi jaune et qui semblait aussi très bien à Rayne. Richard ne pouvait que penser à combien de personnes Rayne devait savoir, il voyait les adresses e-mail attachées à l'invitation, mais il ne s'attendait pas à ce que toutes ces personnes le connaissent aussi bien qu'elles semblent toutes le connaître. Alors qu'il réfléchissait encore un autre taxi jaune a déposé quelqu'un. Cela a donné à Richard l'impression qu'il n'a pas fait le meilleur choix en prenant sa propre voiture, était-ce juste que le train était sponsorisé ou était là une autre raison pour laquelle tout le monde a décidé de prendre cela. Il a abandonné l'idée, prenant note de la nouvelle personne qui venait d'arriver, qui était encore une autre personne que Rayne connaissait vraiment bien. Cependant, la nouvelle personne semblait aussi connaître Calliope, ce qui était un peu un changement bienvenu. Cela a cependant fait comprendre à Richard qu'il ne connaissait fondamentalement personne d'autre ici que l'on qui l'avait invité, d'autant plus la raison pour laquelle c'est une grande escapade pour lui. Il a de nouveau décidé de se présenter au peuple qui s'était montré depuis sa dernière introduction. "Hé, au cas où je ne te l'aurais pas déjà dit, je suis Rich." Il a dit avec un sourire.

Name: Richard "Rich" Masters Age: 19 Height: 5'9" Weight: 135 Sex: Male Gender: Male Identifying Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: A bit lanky as he is underweight for his age. He's almost never seen without sunglasses on and he's usually wearing some kind of band or media related t-shirt. General Personality: Layed back and relaxed mostly. What a lot of people would describe as having the personality of a stoner, even if he does not do any drugs. It's not like he could afford a drug habit anyway, being a music major doesn't really facilitate a lot of steady income. --- Hope this is alright and I didn't leave anything out.

Rayne ne pouvait s'empêcher de rire de la description de la voiture par Richard. Il a ri parce qu'il a vu un certain nombre de similitudes entre le propriétaire et la voiture, mais il a décidé que cela pourrait sembler mauvais à dire à haute voix. "Vous me devez l'invitation, rappelez-vous juste cela" Il a dit avec un sourire ludique. "Et j'ai pensé que ce serait beaucoup plus amusant avec plus de gens" a-t-il ajouté, se rappelant le nombre d'invitations qu'il a envoyées. C'est alors qu'il a remarqué qu'un taxi s'arrêtait. « En parlant de cela » Il a dit excitément alors qu'il sautait par-dessus et a serré fermement la jeune fille arrivée. Il a dit affectueusement avant de la laisser partir. C'est alors qu'il a vu quelque chose qui a attiré son attention. Lors d'une inspection plus étroite, c'était un porte-animaux qui contenait un chat plutôt mécontent. "Vous avez amené votre chat?" Il a dit alors qu'il regardait vers son ami nouvellement arrivé. Au début, il ne savait pas quoi penser, mais sa tête fut bientôt remplie d'adoration enfantine pour les animaux moelleux. Il a mis son doigt dans la cage pour égratigner le chat, mais il l'a rapidement retiré comme le chat faisait un autre son mécontent. Je pense que j'attendrai qu'il n'y ait pas de cage. C'est alors qu'il entendit un bruit derrière lui. Il semblait qu'ils étaient accueillis. Rayne regardait attentivement le garçon qui les saluait. Il était sûr que Diana aurait été une fille, donc il a été un peu repris pour voir que c'était un garçon. Il se pencha près de lui, inspectant son visage de près. Après quelques secondes de concentration intense, il sourit et se pencha. "Foi, pourquoi tu ne m'as pas dit que notre hôte était si mignon" Il a dit avec un sourire coquin alors qu'il lui regardait en arrière. Il regarda en arrière vers son nouvel ami et agita. Mon nom est Rayne, c'est très sympa de vous rencontrer. Il a dit avant qu'il entende quelque chose de derrière lui. Il s'est retourné pour voir un autre de ses amis invités. C'était son ami de football, P-J. Il a dit qu'il s'était enfui et qu'il s'était cogné son ami. Il l'a laissé aller et a regardé vers le haut pour faire un contact visuel. P-J était un peu plus grand que Rayne, mais c'était l'une des choses que Rayne trouvait cool à son sujet. Il a dit avec un sourire jusqu'à lui. C'est alors qu'il entendit une autre voix familière venant de derrière lui. Il s'est retourné pour voir Tyson, un de ses amis qu'il n'a pas invité. Il s'est dit que l'invitation venait de Faith. "Juste pour ça, tu n'as pas de câlin" Rayne a dit avec une patte avant de croiser ses bras et de s'écraser. Tyson jouait toujours comme ça, et Rayne l'aimait secrètement. Il n'a rien dit à personne, alors il s'est tapé la langue comme un enfant. Il s'est alors souvenu qu'il avait invité quelques autres personnes. Il se retourna vers l'hôte pour le voyage et sourit. J'espère que ça ne vous dérange pas, mais j'ai invité quelques personnes. L'invitation disait qu'il pouvait amener une personne, mais alors quelqu'un pourrait se sentir exclu, donc il a invité tout le monde. Il a été un peu surpris en entendant quelque chose de derrière lui. Il s'est retourné pour voir qu'une autre de ses invitations était arrivée. Rayne sourit grand comme Kevin fermait son épaule. Il a dit comme il enveloppait ses bras autour de l'homme de façon ludique. Alors qu'il libérait l'homme, il se retourna vers les autres. J'ai invité tout le monde Il a dit comme un sourire innocent a traversé son visage.

Name: Rayne Maxwell Age: 18 Height: 5’7 Weight: 115ibs Sex: Male Gender: Male Orientation: A bit of this and a bit of that. (Bisexual) HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance (description &/or image): Rayne is a fairly skinny guy with long arms and legs. Favourite clothes include jeans and long sleeved shirts when it’s cold, and a normal shirt and still jeans when it’s hot. General Personality (description): In a word, eccentric would be the most fitting for Rayne. He is fun loving and very active, always running around and playing. He is always smiling, doing his best to lighten the mood, even if he is sad or depressed. When asked as a kid ‘What is the one thing you want the most?’ His answer was ‘I want everyone in the world to smile’. This is the motto he lives by every day, doing his best to be happy with his friends. (Side note, he is rather flirtatious with almost everyone he meets)

Beep.Beep.Beep.Beep. Sans ouvrir les yeux, elle a cherché son réveil et l'a éteint, ce qui l'a fait tomber dans le processus. Raven se couche encore au lit, bénéficiant du confort de sa chambre froide et de draps chauds. En ouvrant un œil, elle regarde le plafond tranquillement. Notant que sa chambre avait une lueur orange, elle gronda et ferma les yeux une fois de plus. "Pourquoi je me lève si tôt.. Le soleil se lève toujours." Elle s'est dit paresseusement. Après quelques secondes de détente, ses yeux s'ouvrent en alarme. Elle s'est figée. -- Le soleil se lève-t-il ou se couche-t-il? Elle a jeté sa couverture loin d'elle, obtenant des bosses d'oie comme l'air froid a frappé sa peau. Elle se leva rapidement et courut chercher sa valise, l'ouvrant frénétiquement et la plaçant en face de son placard. Elle ouvrit son placard et jeta un vêtement à l'autre, faisant un désordre partout. "Demandez. J'aurais dû faire mes valises hier soir. Ou même la veille." Elle s'est plainte en mettant de beaux vêtements propres dans sa valise et en jetant ceux qu'elle n'aimait pas derrière elle. Elle prit une robe bleue et la fixa quelques secondes avant de la jeter au lit sans succès. Elle a manqué et est tombée par terre. Avec un schowl, elle se leva et marcha pour le ramasser et le placer bien sur le lit. Elle est rapidement retournée à sa valise pour la fermer et s'est enfuie à sa salle de bains. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Après une douche de 10 minutes, elle a rapidement séché ses cheveux avec un sèche-cheveux, s'arrêtant quand ses cheveux n'étaient qu'un peu humides. Elle s'est rapidement transformée en robe bleue qu'elle avait préparée et a saisi une paire d'appartements bleus sur son porte-chaussures. Après avoir finalement été prête à partir, elle a saisi sa valise et l'a traînée derrière elle alors qu'elle sortait de sa chambre. Avec de l'effort, elle a lentement porté sa valise dans l'escalier. "Oh mademoiselle Hales, laisse-moi t'aider avec ça." Son majordome a dit. Il a couru dans l'escalier et l'a rencontrée à mi-chemin, en prenant la valise d'elle et en la ramenant facilement. Raven soupira au soulagement de ne pas avoir à porter un objet aussi lourd. "Merci." Elle a dit tranquillement qu'elle descendait les escaliers d'une manière semblable à une dame. "Où vas-tu?" Son majordome a demandé alors qu'il transportait la valise à la voiture. "La cabane de Dai. La Cabine Starlight." Elle répondit d'une voix épuisée. Elle a suivi son majordome jusqu'à la voiture et est entrée, fermant la porte et se penchant sur la fenêtre. Son majordome, John, était un homme des années 50. Il est avec elle depuis qu'elle a 2 ans et il est comme un père pour elle. Après avoir placé la valise de Raven dans le coffre, John s'est assis sur le siège du conducteur, ajustant le miroir avant de démarrer le moteur. "Alors je vois que tu traînes enfin avec ce jeune garçon après si longtemps." Il a dit avec un sourire. "Ouais." Elle a dit bientôt mais avec un petit sourire sur son visage. Elle n'a pas vu son amie depuis un an qu'elle a abandonné ses études secondaires en raison de sa mauvaise santé. Bien qu'elle ne l'admette pas ouvertement, sa meilleure amie lui manque. La voiture partit de l'allée et Raven ferma les yeux, écoutant la chanson à la radio pendant qu'elle s'endormait.

Age: 17 Height: 5'5 Weight: 105lbs Gender: Female Orientation: Heterosexual Handedness: Right hand is dominant but she is able to write with her left hand slowly Appearance: Long black hair, hazel brown eyes, petite General Personality: -Might seem mean and closed off at first but starts to open up and become more friendly after getting to know her -Blunt and can be harsh with words. -Cares deep inside. -Neat freak. Makes sure every corner of the house is clean and spotless. -Mischievous with a wicked sense of humor

Alors que Rayne se penchait plus près de lui, Dai s'enfonçait instinctivement vers l'arrière, se heurtant légèrement dans le cadre de la porte derrière lui, un léger rougissement se formant dans son visage, non seulement par embarras (qui a doublé lorsqu'il a entendu ce qu'il a pris comme un compliment à la main) mais aussi par nervosité étant donné la situation. Il avait vu la voiture s'arrêter et plus de gens, presque tous des étrangers à lui, monter sur le porche... "Tout le monde?" Il murmura, s'attardant un instant sur ce mot, ne sachant pas s'il devait être particulièrement croisé ou flatté par l'étranger... particulièrement amical. Il soupira à la légère et tenta de retrouver son sang-froid, prenant ses mains de son visage bien qu'il le trahisse encore, montrant ses émotions mélangées dans la couleur et l'expression. Dai sourit, c'était un sourire gênant mais agréable malgré, et il fit de son mieux pour paraître optimiste même avec ses préoccupations croissantes pour la situation. "Eh bien, puisque vous êtes tous là je suppose que c'est ça alors..." il a fait de son mieux pour s'adresser à tout le monde à la fois, "Je suis Dai" (bien que l'orthographe ait été laissée à la considération individuelle), "oh et um, bienvenue, je suppose." Il a étouffé un rire tranquille, c'était inconfortable et embarrassant et authentique, mais pas hostile, seulement alors a-t-il regardé autour et remarqué tous les effets personnels. "Venez à l'intérieur, euh, nous trouverons des chambres dans une seconde je suis sûr que vous êtes tous fatigués?" Il secoua, donnant un autre sourire maladroit, qui avait été présent tout au long de son petit discours, et il se tourna pour aller plus loin dans la salle d'entrée, conscient de son autre invité, qui peut ou non encore se reposer. Il avait remarqué Faith dans le groupe, mais était beaucoup trop distrait pour être même à distance social juste pour l'instant... nerveux était un meilleur mot, il était très, très nerveux.

Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe Age: 19 Height: 5'11 Weight: 120ibs Sex: Male Gender: Cis Male Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes. General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal.

P-J a embrassé Rayne et souriait encore plus largement qu'à son arrivée. P-J a dit, "C'est bien de te voir Rayne. Encore merci pour l'invitation ici c'est ce dont j'avais besoin." Rayne a continué à saluer d'autres et P-J a tout pris. Il voyait tant de gens qu'il ne connaissait pas et pourtant il se sentait comme il devrait. Tout cela étant dit que P-J était habitué à être à l'aise dans une pièce pleine de gens qu'il ne connaissait pas, Tous les samedis 20 000 à 25 000 applaudissaient pour lui alors qu'il frappait le terrain et jouait comme s'il n'y avait pas de demain. Dans ce cas, bien que P-J n'ait pas senti la pression à effectuer pour ce groupe, et P-J sentit un grand sentiment de soulagement se laver sur lui. Qu'il pouvait être lui-même même s'il connaissait vraiment Rayne et quelques-uns d'autres de ses cours étaient d'accord avec lui. Une chose qui s'est encore distinguée à P-J était qu'il était le plus grand gars de la pièce. Depuis l'âge de 17 ans, il était lié par le fait d'être la personne la plus grande de sa famille. P-J était le septième de huit enfants et pendant des années ses frères et sœurs le rassasiaient vers son âge. Puis vint un matin quand ils se levèrent tous à l'église catholique romaine de St. Matthew, et P-J était la même hauteur que le plus vieux frère Patrick. L'année dernière, il l'a passé et P-J a adoré le fait qu'il ait maintenant dominé tout le monde. Encore une fois, même si son père était très rapide à pointer, il pouvait encore l'abattre avec un seul coup de poing. Quand il a grandi dans une partie un peu difficile du père de P-J, il s'est assuré que ses enfants pouvaient se débrouiller, et à cette fin il leur a appris toutes les techniques de boxe. Juste alors quelqu'un de Dai s'est présenté, et clairement il a été pris au dépourvu par ce qui se passait. Toute cette situation a rappelé à P-J les nombreux partis de retour dans sa ville natale. Une personne dit à un ami que les gens vont quitter la ville, et qu'ils vont attaquer le cabinet d'alcool. Puis cette personne dit à une autre, puis à une autre, et avant que tu saches qu'il faut une émeute. Bien qu'il ne se soit pas produit souvent dans son quartier, parce que c'était assez étonnant à quel point les gens étaient bien élevés quand ils ont découvert qu'il y avait un flic vivant dans le quartier. Dai a essayé de paraître agréable et amical, mais sa nervosité était en train de se manifester. P-J s'est emparé de son équipement et a commencé à entrer. Comme il l'a fait, il a fait un point pour s'arrêter et parler à Dai. P-J a dit, "P-J McCabe merci d'avoir laissé Rayne m'inviter. Je ferai ce que je peux pour m'assurer que vous ne le regrettez pas." Il a hoche la tête et a dit : "Ça va aller. Écoute, si je dois m'écraser sur un canapé, ce ne sera pas la première fois. Je le fais au moins une fois par semaine dans la salle de cinéma du Complexe Athletic." Avec ce P-J est entré dans la cabine et a été stupéfait de combien massive et juste accueillant tout cela se sentait. Il a dit, "Oui, je pense que cela a les résultats d'un grand été."

Name: Peter Jason McCabe (Goes by P-J) Age: 19 Height: 6' 2" Weight: 220 Sex: Male Gender: Male Orientation: Hetero HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance Also has a scar on his left hand. General Personality: P-J is sizable and is going to the University of Pittsburgh on a football scholarship, but don't let that fool you. He is an easy going guy who likes hanging out with his friends and enjoys having a good laugh. P-J doesn't believe in using his size to intimidate others and likes helping others. P-J has a sarcastic wit and at times doesn't know when to turn it off. If he goes over the line with it he will be the first to apologize for it and do what he can to have someone forgive him. However do not EVER mistake P-J's kindness for weakness, and if you ever do cross him or hurt one of his friends P-J is not above hurting you.

La foi fut surprise par la rapidité avec laquelle les autres arrivèrent après son arrivée à la porte. Elle a dit quelques bonjours et heys comme ils se sont rassemblés. Quand Dai arriva à la porte, Faith sourit beaucoup, heureux de revoir son amie. Faith ignore rapidement le commentaire de Rayne sur comment Dai était mignon. Elle était d'accord, mais elle n'en a pas beaucoup parlé en tant que telle. La foi était surprise que Tyson se soit réellement montrée, elle lui avait envoyé l'invitation à la dernière minute pour être une sorte de con. « Je suis d'accord pour dire que ce sera un bel été. Ça ne devrait pas être trop dur de s'amuser ici. C'est l'endroit que vous avez ici Dai! » Faith a dit avec un grand sourire sur son visage. Ce n'était plus rare pour elle de sourire, mais elle était vraiment étonnée par la richesse de l'endroit. « Il serait peut-être préférable de comprendre exactement comment nous allons dormir ici. On ne peut pas vraiment avoir les garçons qui couchent avec nous les filles bien." La foi a dit plaisantement. Elle ne s'inquiétait pas trop que Dai fasse quoi que ce soit, mais ça pourrait être un peu dur pour quelqu'un de si timide que lui. -- Alors, par où aller les chambres? Faith a déclaré rapidement pour couvrir la plaisanterie un peu fade. La foi était heureuse de vivre dans un si bel endroit pour l'été et avec des gens qu'elle n'avait pas vus depuis un moment. Il y avait même quelques visages qu'elle n'avait jamais rencontrés mais qu'elle serait heureuse de rencontrer.

Name:Faith Simmons Age:17 Height:5'7 Weight:134lbs Sex: Female Gender: Female Orientation:Pansexual(means she dates based on personality not gender) HandedNess: General Personality (description): Faith is not much one for ideal conversation but she takes as much part in it as possible. She is a generally nice girl with a bit of a temper problem. In the past, Faith use to cut herself but she has stopped leaving behind only a few scars on her arms that she tries to cover. Faith likes people who give stimulating and intelligent conversation. She will never curse but will try to hit something should she get angry. She is quick to make up her mind about people and few things change her mind once it is set. Faith gives everyone she meets a degree of trust which is hard to lose.

Eleanor entendit un léger murmure de gens autour d'elle, et lui ouvrit lentement les yeux, la fouine qu'elle avait fait se sentir rafraîchie et soulagée la douleur de son front. La banquise qu'elle tenait contre elle était maintenant une bouillie tiède dans un sac. Elle s'assit lentement de ses jambes cousues dans sa position d'estomac et mit les deux pieds sur le sol doucement. Elle bâillait fort et étendait les bras aussi larges qu'elle le pouvait. Alors qu'elle regardait par le front, il y avait beaucoup de gens, « Je ne savais pas que beaucoup de gens venaient? » Elle s'est demandé, avant de chercher Raven dans la foule, aucun signe d'elle. Elle se leva et marcha un peu plus près pour voir si elle se cachait derrière un des grands garçons, mais ce n'était pas non plus la réponse. -- Est-ce que Raven est encore là? Elle s'est cognée sur la manche de Diana et lui a frotté l'œil en même temps presque comme un enfant d'âge préscolaire.

Name: Eleanor/Ellie Dove Age: 17 (just turned last week) Height: 5"5 Weight: 116lb Sex:Female Gender: Female Orientation: Hetero/experimental HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance (description &/or image): lots of images (i got carried away shiina is too pretty) General Personality (description): If you do not know her Eleanor is a quiet girl-not shy just quiet. She will speak her mind but not in the strongest fashions and always has something to say but she will keep it under her breath. The first impression of Eleanor is a pushover girl considering her scholarship in art and speaking a different language (french). However once you get to know her she is quirky, confident, excited, hyper and down right annoying, Although she seems calm at all times.She enjoys winding people up and being sarcastic.

Je ferai ce que je peux pour m'assurer que vous ne le regrettez pas. Dai s'est introduit dans un sourire, presque en riant malgré lui-même; «Kay, ce n'était pas suggestif du tout...» il a murmuré avant de retourner son attention à ce que tout le monde faisait. Il ne pouvait s'empêcher de sourire, mais il devenait plus authentique car son stress s'amenuisait en raison de l'acceptation générale sans espoir de la situation, et se tournant vers la foi pour la première fois, il a hurlé et a dit tranquillement, et un peu sarcastiquement; "Oui, juste nous filles." C'est ainsi qu'il l'avait prévu de toute façon, et de plus en plus il devenait évident qu'il devait faire face à l'inconfort massif d'être entouré par tous les gars qu'il ne connaissait pas (pour tout l'été non moins)... il avait assez de mal à parler à un encore moins plusieurs. "Les chambres juste... euh," Dai commençait à dire "uh" beaucoup, et ses mots semblaient à moitié formés un peu pressé malgré la lenteur de son discours général, "- ok, il y a donc...-" il s'arrêtait, croisant ses bras, essayant de se rappeler qu'il comptait inconsciemment avec ses doigts, peu de mouvements tapotant contre son bras supérieur, "-il y a deux lits de taille reine, l'un est à moi et l'autre est techniquement mes parents, mais ils n'ont jamais vraiment été là-haut donc pas de soucis... et il y a deux autres lits dans le loft qui sont tous deux de taille pleine. Alors nous avons... beaucoup de canapés... Je suppose...", il a déplacé un peu maladroitement et a essayé de comprendre comment dire le prochain morceau; "tout dépend de qui est prêt à se blottir je suppose. Foi, tu-" il s'est arrêté quand Eleanor est monté vers lui, et il l'a regardée comme un professeur aurait voulu un enfant... même si c'était principalement en raison de sa taille, "-non elle n'est pas encore là poupée. Les deux chambres à coucher sont à l'étage et les deux "lits invités", il a littéralement ajouté des quotas d'air à ça, ce qui n'est pas le moins du monde. "Je suppose que vous pouvez tous le découvrir par vous-mêmes?" Il ne s'était pas encore installé, mais quelque chose lui a dit qu'il finirait par s'installer par terre d'une façon ou d'une autre.

Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe Age: 19 Height: 5'11 Weight: 120ibs Sex: Male Gender: Cis Male Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes. General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal.

Kevin Sinnet tourna la tête alors que le groupe se déplaçait vers un homme grand et mince qui se tenait le plus près de la porte qui les conduirait à l'intérieur du palais en bois. Il s'inclina la tête curieusement, catégorisant l'homme plus long comme quelqu'un qu'il n'avait jamais rencontré auparavant, mais sourit comme Kevin s'apercevait qu'il était l'hôte honorable. Diana - ou Dai, comme il s'est présenté, les a aimablement invités à l'intérieur, et Kevin s'est donc conformé à une poutre. Déplacement de son sac qui se reposait contre ses hanches, le jeune homme se poussa poliment à travers le cadre de la porte. Les questions de la chambre étaient discutées, et Kevin a profité de l'occasion de la confusion pour revendiquer un sport digne de son cadre de couchage. Étant légèrement compétitif dans la nature, il devait être le premier à choisir. Alors qu'il glissa à travers la foule, l'homme plus court s'arrêta momentanément alors qu'il s'approchait de l'hôte gracieux. "Salut, Dai. Merci pour tout, mec. Je suis Kevin, et j'espère que nous pourrons devenir amis pendant les journées de croisière. » En donnant à Dai sa signature, le sourire tordu, Kevin s'est pointé, où il a failli tomber sur une jeune femme aux cheveux blonds et aux yeux brillants. "Oups, sourit-il alors qu'il examinait la petite fille (Eleanor), ma mauvaise. Je suis Kevin, au fait." Il lui a donné une petite vague de salutations avant de s'éloigner en douceur et a continué à l'un des grands canapés qui occupait le salon spacieux. En baissant l'épaule sur le canapé qui faisait face directement au feu, Kevin s'étirait gaiement et affectueusement avant de se tourner vers la foule à la porte. "A partir de maintenant, je revendique le territoire de Sinnet, et entre les heures de Dieu sait-quand-nous dormons, c'est là que je vais dormir." Il leur sourit avec gaieté, avant d'adoucir ses traits en un véritable sourire. Il a déjà été pris en charge avec beaucoup d'hospitalité; il réserverait les lits pour ceux qui en auraient besoin plus qu'il ne l'a fait. "J'espère que tout va bien pour vous, et que nous nous entendrons très bien ensemble pendant la durée de notre séjour ici." Une fois de plus, Kevin s'est penché sur l'hôte. "Merci encore, Dai." Le jeune homme riait alors qu'il inclinait sa casquette de baseball, s'enfonceant dans le canapé avec un soupir de contenu.

Name: Kevin Sinnet Age: 19 Height: 5'9 Weight: 135 lbs Sex: Male Gender: Male Orientation: Heterosexual HandedNess: Left Appearance: A slender, young man with a slightly toned build due to the many physical activities he used to participate in years prior from entering uni. His frame, although thin, can be described as lithe but sturdy. His hair is of medium length, stark under normal lighting conditions but glows a soft golden-brown if presented under the radiance of the sun. The tone of his skin is slightly tan, just a step or two darker than fair. His eyes are pools of chocolate; dark and piercing but warm and comforting. The most defining characteristic about Kevin Sinnet is his smile - slightly crooked, but in a charming, unique manner. General Personality: Charismatic and sociable, Kevin is an optimistic individual who's not afraid to speak his mind. He's well mannered and understanding, as his public self seems to radiate a certain charm. He tends to get along easily with people, as he puts himself out there and is usually the first one to introduce himself. He's the type of person that accepts everyone equally as he is not a person that judges. Kevin Sinnet's cheerful personality is not over the top, but rather refreshing and genuine. As a private individual, however, Kevin Sinnet is selfish and stubborn. Everything has to be his way, though he hides these hidden desires pretty well. If angered to the point where these values may become vulnerable, he usually becomes silent, distant, and aloof. Light, gentle, respectable and understanding are keywords to describing his refreshing character. Boom! Here's mine. Can't wait to see all of yours. I'm excited for all of the mingling, drama, and fun. :)

Après les bonjours ont été dits et tout le monde a commencé à emménager à l'intérieur, Calliope s'est agenouillé vers le bas pour libérer Rosco de son transporteur. Le félin a tiré libre, seulement pour commencer à serpenter son chemin entre ses jambes, ses yeux verts vifs se faufilant tranquillement autour de lui pendant qu'il prenait dans son nouvel environnement. Un peu de mouvement dans les arbres semblait attirer son attention et il était comme une flèche d'une ficelle. Une rafale de vent, fraîche avec la nuit à venir, a secoué assez de ses cheveux blonds sans le pain assez rangé que Calliope n'a plus senti la cravate de cheveux était nécessaire. En l'arrachant, elle se frotta les doigts le long du cuir chevelu et des racines des cheveux, ce qui atténue la douleur qui venait souvent avec le fait que ses cheveux étaient trop longs. Soulevant le porte-bagages maintenant agréablement léger et son sac à dos, Calliope a fait son chemin vers la porte de la cabine derrière le reste de la foule. Ses mouvements n'étaient pas pressés, permettant à tous les autres de bombarder Dai avec leur gratitude au moment où ils passaient. Ajouter ses propres remerciements semblait trivial quand sur les queues de manteau de tous les autres, mais elle s'arrêta aussi pour lui offrir un autre sourire facile. Merci de m'avoir sauvé de la prison, Dai. Un été avec mon petit frère aurait fini par être plein de sang et doux, doux silence. » Rire pour montrer qu'elle n'était pas sérieuse malgré avoir souvent imaginé enfermer son frère dans un placard pendant quelques heures ou jours, Calliope a glissé devant l'hôte et plus loin dans la pièce principale. Elle a vu Kevin se faire choper et s'est secoué la tête, les dents clignotant dans un sourire. Avec un léger accrochage du porte-animaux, elle a défendu le Rosco absent : Je suis presque sûr que le chat ne sera pas d'accord. Ou utilisez votre visage comme un oreiller – de toute façon, je ne peux pas l'imaginer ne pas faire du bruit au foyer. Elle n'aurait pas pris de lit parce qu'elle n'avait pas l'idée de s'amuser avec des gens au hasard. Calliope a posé ses bagages à côté d'un deuxième canapé avant de s'approcher de l'incendie et du lit de fortune de Kevin. À l'extrémité opposée de son canapé, elle a pivoté sur son talon et a plié. Bien qu'elle ne se considérait pas particulièrement lourde, le canapé coulait autour de son corps et formait un petit havre de luxe. Frappant ses chaussures, une paire de Keds de marine avec de minuscules pois blancs, Calliope les mit bien à côté du canapé et tira ses jambes contre son corps. Elle était tout simplement trop à l'aise avec un jean et un t-shirt bleu usé pour rester éveillée tard dans la nuit si les choses n'augmentaient pas. Se tenant contre le bras du canapé, elle regarda le groupe avec une certaine curiosité. L'hôte semblait surpris et même un peu alarmé par tant de corps chauds pressant à proximité de lui, bien qu'il était au-delà de la faute en termes de politesse et d'hostilité, ou quel que soit le mot pour qu'il soit. Idly frottant ses pieds, Calliope a tourné son attention vers les fenêtres et les diverses opportunités au-delà – nager et escalader certains arbres sonnaient tous les deux comme des choses qu'elle devrait faire dans les 48 prochaines heures. Je me demande s'ils ont des montagnes à proximité... probablement auraient dû regarder par la fenêtre au lieu d'un livre, elle a pensé, mâcher l'intérieur de sa joue.

Name Calliope (Ka-ly-oh-pee) Nickname Callie, based on spelling rather than pronunciation Age 18 Sex Female Gender Female Orientation Straight Height 5'6" Weight 130 lbs Appearance She is not quite slim, but being active and the blessed metabolism of good genetics has kept her weight steady. She is likely more squish than muscle, despite liking to spend time outdoors being active. Her hair is considered fine and straight, both naturally blonde and artificially lightened. Eyes that dance between a clear evening's azure and a stormy grey sky seem darker and more dramatic against her fair skin, free of freckles but for her shoulders. She tries to wear contacts but has little patience for discomfort and often ends up wearing glasses instead. Handedness Right Personality If asked to describe herself, Calliope would probably struggle and end up just saying her likes, which are decently rounded in terms of variety: knitting and rappelling, cats and kickboxing. Reading a book while laying on a blanket with a hot sun and cool wind, the smell of spring all around her. After that, perhaps she'd find characteristics, but Calliope has always been suspicious of self-evaluations, figuring a person is always predisposed to be somewhat wrong about themselves, whether in too good or too negative a fashion. In the same frame she's critical of most things dealing with online tests or astrology, preferring rather a clean and precise science. A mellow woman, her voice is uncommonly low and smooth of tone, making her often seem as if she's on the verge of sleep or without a care in the world. Her laughter is quick and easy but ofttimes she misses the joke due to taking it a little too literally, worse sometimes because her ability for subtlety has never been wholly present. She's usually optimistic but never quite reaches bubbly, her temper seldom sparking but being the worse when it does.

Richard pourrait comprendre à quel point Diana, qu'il connaissait maintenant comme Dai, a dû se sentir mal à l'aise, si une tonne de gens qu'il ne connaissait pas se pointait à son appartement à son insu, il ne saurait pas vraiment quoi faire non plus. Cela étant dit, l'appartement de Richard n'était que légèrement plus petit que la zone qu'il pouvait immédiatement voir lorsqu'il regardait dans la maison pour qu'il ne corresponde pas exactement à la quantité de personnes qui débarquaient ici sans être invitées. Pourtant, ça lui a fait regretter de ne même pas avoir pris la peine d'apprendre quoi que ce soit sur l'installation ici avant de se pointer car il aurait pu au moins essayer de dire à l'hôte qu'il allait venir. On l'oubliait alors qu'il entrait dans la "cabine". Il regardait autour de lui et seulement deux mots pouvaient lui venir à l'esprit. Il a dit un peu plus fort qu'il ne s'y attendait. Cet endroit était énorme, Richard n'avait jamais vu autant d'espace qui pouvait encore être considéré comme intérieur. Il savait que c'était un endroit coûteux, mais il n'a jamais pensé qu'il pourrait y avoir un endroit aussi vaste. Pour lui cher était un studio à Manhatten avec plancher au plafond fenêtres et des choix de design moderne, pas un château dans la nature sauvage. Il a couru sa main dans ses cheveux avant de retourner son attention à Dai, qui donnait des instructions sur la façon dont les chambres seraient aménagées. Alors qu'un lit semblait sympa, Richard ne voulait pas l'enlever à quelqu'un d'autre et les canapés dans cette maison semblent super confortables de toute façon. Il a regardé Dai et a simplement dit "Vous avez un endroit incroyable ici..." avant de voir l'homme qu'il connaissait comme Kevin et la fille avec le joli nom, Calliope, tous les deux choisir des endroits. Ne voulant pas être laissé sans un Richard a décidé de profiter de cette occasion pour se lancer dans l'action et prendre une bonne zone de sommeil. Et ce que l'on entend vraiment par "Printemps en action" c'est que Richard marche lentement vers un canapé dans la même région générale que les deux autres et se faufile d'abord vers le bas. Moufflé par les coussins, il a dit "J'espère que personne ne m'embête à prendre ce canapé." Il se sentait comme s'il pouvait s'endormir à ce moment-là et là, c'était plus confortable que son lit à la maison pour sûr, et sa voiture où il dormait de temps en temps. Penser à la voiture a apporté un bâillon soudain de le réaliser et il a laissé sortir un son haut "Ugggggghhhhhh" avec son visage encore enterré dans les coussins. Il avait toujours toutes ses affaires dans la voiture, même s'il se sentait tellement à l'aise de rester ici. Il faudrait au moins qu'il s'en aille à un moment ou à un autre pour tout faire entrer.

Name: Richard "Rich" Masters Age: 19 Height: 5'9" Weight: 135 Sex: Male Gender: Male Identifying Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: A bit lanky as he is underweight for his age. He's almost never seen without sunglasses on and he's usually wearing some kind of band or media related t-shirt. General Personality: Layed back and relaxed mostly. What a lot of people would describe as having the personality of a stoner, even if he does not do any drugs. It's not like he could afford a drug habit anyway, being a music major doesn't really facilitate a lot of steady income. --- Hope this is alright and I didn't leave anything out.

Raven s'est soudainement réveillé quand la voiture est passée par une bosse sur la route. Elle s'est frottée les yeux et a regardé autour de lui, il faisait assez sombre maintenant et elle n'est pas encore arrivée dans la cabine. La ville d'Alice était à une heure de route de sa maison et d'Alice, ils doivent encore se rendre à la cabane qui était située au bord du lac près des bois, loin de la société. Yawning, elle a attrapé une paire de barres de chocolat dans la poche du siège devant elle. Elle y a placé beaucoup de chocolats, de bonbons et de sucettes pour des situations comme celle-ci où elle devra s'asseoir dans une voiture pendant au moins plus d'une heure. Sa bouche s'est arrosée à la première morsure et son estomac a grondé, lui faisant réaliser à quel point elle avait faim. Elle n'a pas mangé un seul repas aujourd'hui et elle était vraiment impatiente de dîner avec ses quelques amis. -- Sommes-nous presque là? Elle a demandé un peu impatiemment, elle était plus affamée à la minute et la faim l'a rendue physiquement faible et fatiguée. -- Nous y serons dans 15 minutes ou moins, répondit John. Raven s'appuya sur la chaise et soupira, regardant la vue à l'extérieur de la fenêtre tout en prenant une autre bouchée de la barre de chocolat. La ville était en effet une ville paisible. Elle a pensé en voyant un groupe d'amis marcher leurs chiens et bavarder. Dans un autre coin, il y avait un vieux couple qui riait ensemble et qui appréciait la compagnie de chacun. Au moment où elle a pris la dernière bouchée de la barre de chocolat, la voiture a ralenti et la cabine est apparue en vue. Elle se leva droit et se rapprocha de la fenêtre pour regarder la cabane. Comme elle l'a fait, la voiture s'est arrêtée. "Nous sommes là." John a dit. Elle a jeté l'emballage à l'intérieur de la minuscule poubelle à l'intérieur de sa voiture et est sortie avec enthousiasme de la voiture, faisant son chemin vers le coffre. John a suivi et a ouvert le coffre, en faisant sortir sa valise. "Merci de m'avoir conduite ici." Elle l'a dit avec gratitude. "Tu es sûr de ne pas vouloir rester dîner? Je suis sûr que Dai va s'en occuper." Elle m'a proposé. "Je vais bien, va voir ton ami et amuse-toi. J'ai déjà mangé avant de quitter la maison." Il répondit avec un sourire chaleureux, et les rides par ses yeux montrèrent. Raven a hurlé et a marché lentement jusqu'au porche avant. Elle a regardé en arrière pour voir la voiture décoller, la regarder disparaître au fur et à mesure qu'elle allait plus loin. Elle a ramené son attention sur la porte qui était juste devant elle. Avec une profonde respiration, elle a sonné la sonnette de porte. C'est Ding. Dong. C'est bon.

Age: 17 Height: 5'5 Weight: 105lbs Gender: Female Orientation: Heterosexual Handedness: Right hand is dominant but she is able to write with her left hand slowly Appearance: Long black hair, hazel brown eyes, petite General Personality: -Might seem mean and closed off at first but starts to open up and become more friendly after getting to know her -Blunt and can be harsh with words. -Cares deep inside. -Neat freak. Makes sure every corner of the house is clean and spotless. -Mischievous with a wicked sense of humor

Est-ce que Raven vient? Elle se demanda alors qu'elle ne voyait pas d'autres visages familiers. Elle a accordé son audition à tout le monde et a remarqué la discussion des « lits ». « Je pouvais dormir sur le canapé. » dit-elle tranquillement sachant qu'elle serait confortablement assez petite pour s'adapter, un lit queen size l'engloutissait. Elle se tenait tranquillement en regardant tout le monde se déplacer et se parler. "Combien d'autres personnes arrivent?" Elle a demandé doucement face aux directions de Diana trompé en pensant qu'il doit savoir. Elle calculait combien de personnes seraient sur un canapé ou un lit. Elle regarda quelques personnes de grande taille sur le canapé, « Je me sentirais mal si je dormais sur le lit » bien que les canapés étaient grands, elle aurait encore plus de place sur l'un par rapport aux autres.

Name: Eleanor/Ellie Dove Age: 17 (just turned last week) Height: 5"5 Weight: 116lb Sex:Female Gender: Female Orientation: Hetero/experimental HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance (description &/or image): lots of images (i got carried away shiina is too pretty) General Personality (description): If you do not know her Eleanor is a quiet girl-not shy just quiet. She will speak her mind but not in the strongest fashions and always has something to say but she will keep it under her breath. The first impression of Eleanor is a pushover girl considering her scholarship in art and speaking a different language (french). However once you get to know her she is quirky, confident, excited, hyper and down right annoying, Although she seems calm at all times.She enjoys winding people up and being sarcastic.

Alors qu'il passait par la porte, Rayne a failli se faire casser les pieds. Il n'avait pas vu une maison aussi accueillante depuis qu'il était petit à rendre visite à ses grands-parents. Avec un sourire enfantin, il mit ses sacs sur le côté et courut autour de la grande pièce dans laquelle ils étaient entrés. Il admirait les nombreux canapés et le décor magnifique tout en riant comme un enfant d'âge préscolaire. Lorsqu'il est revenu au groupe, il a entendu parler d'arrangements de literie. Rayne s'en foutait où et avec qui il couchait, tant qu'il pouvait s'allonger, il était heureux. Il regarda autour de lui en entendant un étrange bruit de Richards se réclamant maintenant lit. Il a fait un peu de rire. « Je peux déjà dire que cela va être un grand été » Il pensait à lui-même comme il a accordé à nouveau dans la conversation de literie. Personnellement, je suis heureux n'importe où. Il a dit avec un ton innocent. Il regarda Dai et sourit de manière dérisoire. Et je n'aime pas partager du tout. Il a dit avant de clin d'œil à leur nouvel hôte. Sa réaction était si divertissante que Rayne ne pouvait s'empêcher de le taquiner un peu. C'est alors qu'il a remarqué quelqu'un qu'il n'avait pas vu auparavant. C'était une fille plutôt innocente avec de longs cheveux blonds. Il sourit alors qu'il agitait dans sa direction. Il était sur le point de se présenter quand il y avait une bague à la porte. Plus de gens sont ici?Rayne a demandé excitément alors qu'il regardait autour des gens du groupe. Il ne pouvait pas s'empêcher d'être un peu curieux de savoir qui pourrait arriver. Toutes ses invitations étaient arrivées, donc n'importe qui d'autre était une nouvelle personne. Rayne aimait les nouvelles personnes. Il s'est rendu à la porte et a regardé dehors. Il y avait une fille avec de longs cheveux noirs et un air très royal à son sujet. Il y a une fille aux cheveux noirs à la porte.Il a annoncé avant de retourner à Dai. On lui avait toujours dit qu'il ne devrait pas inviter les gens dans la maison de quelqu'un d'autre, bien que l'envie de jeter la porte ouverte et de les accueillir était très tentante.

Name: Rayne Maxwell Age: 18 Height: 5’7 Weight: 115ibs Sex: Male Gender: Male Orientation: A bit of this and a bit of that. (Bisexual) HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance (description &/or image): Rayne is a fairly skinny guy with long arms and legs. Favourite clothes include jeans and long sleeved shirts when it’s cold, and a normal shirt and still jeans when it’s hot. General Personality (description): In a word, eccentric would be the most fitting for Rayne. He is fun loving and very active, always running around and playing. He is always smiling, doing his best to lighten the mood, even if he is sad or depressed. When asked as a kid ‘What is the one thing you want the most?’ His answer was ‘I want everyone in the world to smile’. This is the motto he lives by every day, doing his best to be happy with his friends. (Side note, he is rather flirtatious with almost everyone he meets)

Dai écoutait tranquillement chaque commentaire qui passait, la panique initiale qu'il avait affrontée plus tôt ayant cédé la place à une conformité réfléchie et un désir naturel de garder les choses organisées. Il tourna son attention momentanément vers Eleanor qui posait une question très importante... combien d'autres personnes venaient de toute façon? Il mule ça sur un moment, et puis, d'un ton presque vaincu mais comique, il chuchotait, "Tout le monde je suppose." Il sourit faiblement, essayant d'être rassurant d'une manière ou d'une autre, mais n'ayant pas d'autre opinion, il pouvait demander à Rayne un nombre approximatif, mais cela n'aiderait pas beaucoup étant donné combien de temps les invitations auraient été envoyées, alors Dai a décidé, quoi qu'il se soit passé, et c'était ça. Il a expliqué en détail, en réponse au commentaire de Richard, que la cabane a été achetée par ses parents comme moyen de lier avec lui comme un enfant, mais ils n'ont jamais trouvé le temps de visiter comme mentionné précédemment. Décidément, il a oublié l'idée qu'il était terrifié quand on l'a laissé seul. "D'accord, trois canapés en bas, un à partir?" Il y en avait quatre au total, deux dans le salon et deux là où ils se tenaient dans le hall d'entrée, dont l'un du nom du garçon... Dai pensait que c'était Richard, avait déjà prétendu. Il lui apparut que Calliope avait fait une blague sur l'emprisonnement, et il avait été trop pris dans sa planification pour répondre, mais tout de même il laissa un sourire faible sachant qu'il y avait quelqu'un de bonne humeur parmi eux. Tout comme il était sur le point d'offrir une suggestion sur les arrangements du lit, Rayne lui a parlé, de même il s'est tourné pour leur donner toute son attention, bien qu'il ait été admis les bloquants comme ils ont filé autour de la chambre quelques instants plus tôt. "Et je n'aime pas partager du tout" Un calme ; « Oh... » était tout Dai pu rassembler, son visage rougissant encore malgré lui, mais heureusement alors il y avait une sonnerie très bruyante, très odieux dans la maison à nouveau qui faisait écho dans toute la cabine et il se demandait pourquoi personne d'autre n'était terriblement alarmé quand il l'a fait, comme lui-même avait physiquement reculé légèrement (et il était censé très habitué au bruit). Ce n'est qu'à présent qu'il était de nouveau conscient de la musique qui jouait en arrière-plan, alors qu'il écoutait la vague description qu'il souriait peu et se tournait vers Eleanor : « C'est probablement Raven eh? » et s'installa pour ouvrir la porte, il essaya de ne pas le rendre terriblement évident, il dut lutter pour l'ouvrir comme il l'a toujours fait, mais dans le fond de son esprit, il était douloureusement conscient de la tristesse qu'il avait dû regarder avant qu'il ne bouge. Là, debout sur le porche, charmant comme il se rappelait d'elle, était un ami qu'il n'avait pas vu depuis très longtemps, donc il sourit, et parlait doucement: "Hey Ray."

Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe Age: 19 Height: 5'11 Weight: 120ibs Sex: Male Gender: Cis Male Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes. General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal.

Etant aussi impatiente qu'elle l'était, Raven allait sonner une fois de plus la sonnette lorsque la porte s'ouvrit légèrement et lentement. Sa main était suspendue au milieu de l'air près de la sonnette alors qu'elle regardait la porte, attendant que la personne qui se battait derrière elle soit vue. Devant elle était son meilleur ami, Dai, qui était nettement plus grand que la dernière fois qu'elle l'a vu. Comme toujours, il avait ce sourire doux et doux sur son visage qui lui faisait se sentir en sécurité. Incapable de contenir le bonheur qu'elle ressentait en le voyant, elle pose sa valise et l'embrasse, ce qu'elle réalise être la première fois qu'elle le faisait dans ses années d'amitié. Après s'être enfuie, elle sourit et le regarda : « Tu as grandi. Maintenant, je dois regarder en haut quand je te parle." Elle a dit en ramassant sa valise. "Et c'est injuste." Elle m'a dit de plaisanter. Ramener son attention à lui, elle voit le mouvement derrière lui du coin de ses yeux et c'était la seule fois qu'elle prêtait attention à ce qui était derrière lui. Elle regarda par-dessus son épaule, qu'elle dut se tenir sur le bout de ses orteils à faire, et remarqua un gars aux cheveux brun clair et une fille aux cheveux blonds longs, qu'elle reconnut être Eleanor. "Tu ne m'as jamais dit que tu invitais un ami." Elle a dit nonchalamment, sans oublier de mettre le stress sur le mot ami. Tout comme elle était sur le point de regarder loin, elle a remarqué une autre personne et une autre.. et une autre.. Se sentant submergée par la quantité d'étrangers, elle redressa sa posture et regarda Dai silencieusement. Son visage a été rougi dans l'embarras de la pensée que tous ces étrangers ont vu un côté d'elle qu'elle ne montre à personne à part Dai et Eleanor. Soudain, un bruit de grognement éclata le silence. "Alors, qu'est-ce qu'il y a pour dîner?" était tout ce qu'elle pouvait dire silencieusement.

Age: 17 Height: 5'5 Weight: 105lbs Gender: Female Orientation: Heterosexual Handedness: Right hand is dominant but she is able to write with her left hand slowly Appearance: Long black hair, hazel brown eyes, petite General Personality: -Might seem mean and closed off at first but starts to open up and become more friendly after getting to know her -Blunt and can be harsh with words. -Cares deep inside. -Neat freak. Makes sure every corner of the house is clean and spotless. -Mischievous with a wicked sense of humor

Dai s'est emparé de la compréhension et de la reconnaissance comme il a murmuré; "Il n'est pas- euh, je veux dire, je ne le connais pas... il y avait un peu d'ennuis avec la liste des invités..." la rougeur dans son visage était encore présente sinon améliorée, et en ce qu'ils partageaient des expressions réciproques d'inconfort. "Je ne m'inquiéterais pas, ils sont tous assez distraits en ce moment... oh et Eleanor vous attendait, elle s'est cognée la tête plus tôt." Ses phrases ont été précipitées, beaucoup à faire, et malgré sa joie de voir son ami, il avait vraiment besoin de s'installer à l'intérieur, alors il s'est tourné, gesticulant légèrement dans la pièce et a annoncé d'une voix si pratiquée qu'il était définitivement hors de place; "Puis-je présenter, Mlle Raven Hales." Diana s'est retournée vers son ami et a hurlé légèrement, rassurantement, avant de parler à nouveau; "Vous, Eleanor et Foi pouvez partager ma chambre si vous voulez. Je trouverai-"il s'est tourné vers Rayne et a clin d'oeil sarcastiquement alors qu'il a placé une main légère sur leur épaule pour le moment; "quelque part où dormir." Mais dans l'ensemble, il avait surtout l'air stupide vu la rougeur de son visage.

Name: Diana "Dai/Dye" Monroe Age: 19 Height: 5'11 Weight: 120ibs Sex: Male Gender: Cis Male Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: He's very thin, and relatively tall with spindly arms and legs, but everything about him is gentle, save for his thick-framed glasses. He wears primarily baggy sweaters in soft colours and tight-fitting skinny jeans with his black shoes. General Personality: He's relatively quiet and mild mannered, though often quite sarcastic and dark humored. Overall, people tend to gravitate toward him because he's honest, kind and incredibly loyal.

P-J a regardé autour et a pris toute la situation "qui dort où". Il a grandi à la maison avec 7 autres frères et sœurs, mais heureusement les âges ont été assez espacés pour qu'ils n'aient jamais vraiment eu à traiter cette question trop souvent. À moins que la famille élargie ne vienne visiter, et que les choses se soient un peu cramées. Pendant ces périodes, le frère aîné de P-J Patrick a généralement mis quelques personnes à sa place, et c'était P-J et le troisième frère aîné Johnny. Tout cela étant dit que P-J cherchait un endroit pour laisser tomber son équipement et apprendre à connaître ses nouveaux colocs. Il allait prendre un des canapés, mais il semblait qu'ils étaient tous pris. Avec ce P-J à l'étage et vu l'un des lits de taille complète dans le loft. Il a dit, "Si personne d'autre ne s'en soucie..." P-J a laissé tomber ses affaires et a dit, "Je revendique cette terre pour l'Espagne!" Il a ouvert son sac à dos et a sorti son Kindle et a commencé à le charger. Puis P-J sortit un article de plus et le plaça sur la table de nuit; une photo de lui et de sa famille au jour du mariage de Patrick. Il avait environ 4 ans, mais c'était sa photo préférée parce que toute la famille était ensemble. Une fois que cela a été fait, P-J s'est senti assez à l'aise qu'il était temps de laisser le groupe voir le vrai lui. C'était un côté qu'il a révélé à presque personne du tout. En fait, ses parents ne le savaient même pas. P-J a glissé de sa chemise de golf bleue et a mis son T-Shirt préféré dans le monde; son T-Shirt gris Batman. Pour toutes ses prouesses athlétiques et la façon dont il s'est porté sur et hors du terrain P-J était une bande dessinée / sci-fi geek de la tête aux pieds. Son personnage préféré était bien sûr Batman et il possédait beaucoup de marchandises, et il gardait tout à la maison de Patrick. Patrick était aussi un geek de BD, donc c'était quelque chose qu'il et P-J se sont liés. Bien que ceux qui ont su ne jamais donné P-J une lèvre à ce sujet, parce qu'à sa taille et le poids pas beaucoup voulaient rendre P-J trop contrarié. Il a ensuite glissé de ses chaussures de pont et a mis ses chaussures de course. Enfin P-J se sentait comme son T-Shirt préféré, jeans bleu et chaussures de course yep cette tenue lui semblait aussi naturelle que son uniforme de football. P-J a pris une profonde respiration et a dit, "Ahh, maintenant il est temps de se détendre." P-J est descendu et a ouvert le frigo. Il a vu plusieurs bouteilles d'eau et P-J a dit, "Je pourrais utiliser une de ces." Il a pris une bouteille d'eau et l'a ouverte. Alors qu'il était prêt à le boire, P-J a sorti son portefeuille et a déposé deux billets de 50 dollars sur un bureau près de la cuisine. P-J a dit, "C'est pour aider avec les dépenses. J'ai besoin de plus de renseignements." P-J n'était pas un enfant riche, mais il avait un peu d'argent économisé et son père lui a aussi glissé un peu d'argent. P-J s'est rendu compte que tous les invités qui venaient ici étaient accablants Dai, donc il s'est dit qu'il ferait ce qu'il pouvait. P-J a pris un siège le long de la barre et a juste commencé à tout prendre.

Name: Peter Jason McCabe (Goes by P-J) Age: 19 Height: 6' 2" Weight: 220 Sex: Male Gender: Male Orientation: Hetero HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance Also has a scar on his left hand. General Personality: P-J is sizable and is going to the University of Pittsburgh on a football scholarship, but don't let that fool you. He is an easy going guy who likes hanging out with his friends and enjoys having a good laugh. P-J doesn't believe in using his size to intimidate others and likes helping others. P-J has a sarcastic wit and at times doesn't know when to turn it off. If he goes over the line with it he will be the first to apologize for it and do what he can to have someone forgive him. However do not EVER mistake P-J's kindness for weakness, and if you ever do cross him or hurt one of his friends P-J is not above hurting you.

Eleanor retourna à l'homme et sourit un peu, elle se hurla poliment avant de se tourner vers Raven qui venait de passer par la porte. "Raven!" Elle a dit excitée mais tranquillement avant d'envelopper ses bras autour d'elle. Elle et Raven avaient l'habitude d'être proches mais ont lentement dérivé une fois qu'elle est partie. Alors qu'Ellie reculait quelques pas pour laisser Raven entrer, elle prenait son temps et regardait tout le monde. Beaucoup de gens avaient déjà réclamé des canapés à ce stade donc partager une chambre avec des amis proches ne semblait pas être une si mauvaise idée. Maintenant que Eleanor en est venu à y penser, il y avait beaucoup de gens. Elle n'a reconnu aucun d'eux, 'Diana doit connaître beaucoup de gens!' Elle pensait qu'elle regardait tout le monde bouger tranquillement. Même si c'était plus calme quand elle s'est réveillée pour la première fois, quelques personnes assises sur leurs canapés revendiqués, quelques-unes près de la porte et une près de la cuisine. Elle bâillait à haute voix encore à moitié endormie et poussait ses cheveux hors de ses yeux fléchissant alors qu'elle touchait son ecchymose. -- Que devrions-nous faire maintenant? Elle a remis en question le bâillement.

Name: Eleanor/Ellie Dove Age: 17 (just turned last week) Height: 5"5 Weight: 116lb Sex:Female Gender: Female Orientation: Hetero/experimental HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance (description &/or image): lots of images (i got carried away shiina is too pretty) General Personality (description): If you do not know her Eleanor is a quiet girl-not shy just quiet. She will speak her mind but not in the strongest fashions and always has something to say but she will keep it under her breath. The first impression of Eleanor is a pushover girl considering her scholarship in art and speaking a different language (french). However once you get to know her she is quirky, confident, excited, hyper and down right annoying, Although she seems calm at all times.She enjoys winding people up and being sarcastic.

Richard a encore entendu la porte s'ouvrir et s'est retourné pour faire face à la porte. Il sourit au nouveau venu alors que Dai la présenta à tout le monde et Richard agita paresseusement la femme qu'il connaissait maintenant sous le nom de Raven. Un autre nom que Richard a trouvé gentil, cependant cela lui rappelait une histoire précise écrite par Edgar Allen Poe, bien qu'il ne puisse pas tout à fait mettre son doigt sur ce que c'était, probablement The Tell-Tale Heart. Tant de nouveaux noms à se rappeler sur ce voyage comment Richard a pu garder une trace de tous. Richard a décidé qu'il devrait probablement se lever pour obtenir les fournitures qu'il avait emballées pour le voyage et les amener à l'intérieur. Après quelques instants de préparation mentale pour se lever, il a décidé que ce serait probablement mieux s'il roulait du canapé. Il a frappé le sol avec un bruit modéré et un gémissement avant de se relever et de se frotter le bras, qui avait touché le sol en premier. Ça n'a pas fait mal du tout, mais il n'était pas vraiment quelqu'un avec une tolérance à la douleur élevée, donc ça a fait piquer un peu, mais ça passerait. Prendre une note mentale de ne pas le faire à nouveau même s'il se sentait particulièrement non motivé à bouger. Il a fait son chemin par la porte et vers sa voiture jusqu'à ce qu'il ouvre le siège du passager et a sorti son SG et son ampli qu'il a procédé à apporter à l'intérieur post-rapide et place à côté du canapé qu'il prenait. Il s'en retourna et ouvrit son dos de vêtements presque pleins, prit la couverture et l'oreiller qu'il venait de poser sur le siège et tenta de les mettre dans le sac à bandoulière avec un succès modéré. Le sac pouvait presque être fermé tout le chemin, sauf pour une extrémité où environ 3 pouces de fermeture éclair restait ouvert. Il l'a apporté et l'a mis à côté de la guitare et a ensuite fait son chemin vers la cuisine. Richard ouvrit le frigo et sortit une bouteille d'eau et s'appuya sur le comptoir en face de P-J. "Hé." Richard a dit avec un sourire.

Name: Richard "Rich" Masters Age: 19 Height: 5'9" Weight: 135 Sex: Male Gender: Male Identifying Orientation: Homosexual Handedness: Right Appearance: A bit lanky as he is underweight for his age. He's almost never seen without sunglasses on and he's usually wearing some kind of band or media related t-shirt. General Personality: Layed back and relaxed mostly. What a lot of people would describe as having the personality of a stoner, even if he does not do any drugs. It's not like he could afford a drug habit anyway, being a music major doesn't really facilitate a lot of steady income. --- Hope this is alright and I didn't leave anything out.

Rayne ne pouvait pas aider mais rire un peu de la mention de ‘ami de garçon'. La première fois qu'il a rencontré ces deux personnes, il savait déjà qu'il s'amuserait ici. Il sourit alors que la jeune fille commença à rougir et lui fit signe d'un sourire. On aurait dit qu'elle et Dai étaient de très proches amis, alors il s'est dit qu'elle devait être une jolie fille. Son attention a été retournée à leur hôte alors qu'il fonçait sur ses paroles, ses joues devenant de plus en plus rouges. Il s'est glissé à lui-même avant de revenir dans la conversation. Il a dit d'un ton heureux après avoir été présenté par Dai. Je m'appelle Rayne et j'ai hâte de devenir ton ami. Il a dit avec un sourire avant que la blonde de l'avant ne passe devant lui et ne se cogne à l'arrivée. Il semblait qu'elle l'attendait depuis un bon moment. Puis le sujet est revenu au sommeil. Il semblait que Dai avait décidé de mettre les filles dans une pièce, laissant les garçons se battre pour le reste. Il a été pris au dépourvu alors que leur hôte s'est tourné vers lui et a clin d'œil. Comme les garçons se reposaient à la main sur l'épaule de Rayne, il ne pouvait pas aider mais rougir légèrement. Et son commentaire était particulièrement... distrayant. Heureusement pour Rayne, le blush sur le visage de Dai, a rendu la situation beaucoup plus amusante et il ne pouvait pas aider mais rire un peu. Il a mis sa main sur les garçons et s'est penché plus près. Il chuchotait d'un ton plutôt suggestif. Il avait déjà appris une chose sur Dia qui rendrait le séjour d'autant plus amusant. Il est très facilement embarrassé. Faire en sorte que les gens se sentent embarrassés était l'un des temps de passage préférés de Rayne. Il lui a donné un sourire effronté avant de se pencher en arrière et de laisser sortir un bâillement fort, s'étirant les bras. Il a regardé les gens interagir autour de la maison, excité que les gens se faisaient déjà des amis. C'est alors qu'il a senti son estomac gronder. Quoi qu'il en soit, la nourriture sonne comme une bonne idée.Il a dit alors qu'il regardait Raven avec un sourire. Vous êtes d'accord?

Name: Rayne Maxwell Age: 18 Height: 5’7 Weight: 115ibs Sex: Male Gender: Male Orientation: A bit of this and a bit of that. (Bisexual) HandedNess (dominance): Right Appearance (description &/or image): Rayne is a fairly skinny guy with long arms and legs. Favourite clothes include jeans and long sleeved shirts when it’s cold, and a normal shirt and still jeans when it’s hot. General Personality (description): In a word, eccentric would be the most fitting for Rayne. He is fun loving and very active, always running around and playing. He is always smiling, doing his best to lighten the mood, even if he is sad or depressed. When asked as a kid ‘What is the one thing you want the most?’ His answer was ‘I want everyone in the world to smile’. This is the motto he lives by every day, doing his best to be happy with his friends. (Side note, he is rather flirtatious with almost everyone he meets)