Jerome Mitchell is something of an enigma to describe. His most typical appearance is that of a younger man in his late twenties. Fair-skinned, with short, spiked brown hair, nothing particular stands out about him, until one meets his eyes. They are unusually bright, and no two people can seem to agree on what color they appear as.
Primarily, his attire consists of some sort of jacket, a graphic t-shirt, black or grey jeans, and a hat. The exact composition of these articles varying wildly from day to day, occasionally from encounter to encounter even. This has the tendency for some to disregard Jerome as a vain wastrel, obsessed with his own wardrobe.
Of course, this fits his motives just fine.
In truth, he has no set form, no true appearance. His mutation is one of the conscious ability to rewrite his genetic code at will, and can appear as anyone. A perfect mimicry right down to DNA, fingerprints, retinal patterning, even voice pattern. All he requires is a casual sample of their DNA, and he can become them. Yet this power is not limited to merely...human transformations.
It made him a perfect candidate for the Scouts.
-
RPG
-
About RPG »
-
RPG is a community of over 100,000 roleplayers from all around the world.
We build virtual worlds.
-
- Our Rules
- Writing Tool
- đ„ Authors
- đ„ Achievements
-
âż Contribute
- Official Patreon »
-
Donate Now with Internet Money
Clicking the code below will launch your Bitcoin wallet, or you can simply scan it with your mobile wallet. Don't have one? Install Copay »
3BZssGaw5HJEeZPhQDR3ExSqfSn1sFWb46
- đ» Etherpad
- đŠ Market
- đïž News
-
About RPG »
- â° Scenes
- đïž Forum
- đŁ Chat
- đ Universes
- â©ïž Places
Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat â the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »
Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »
Players Wanted: Long-term fantasy roleplay partners wanted » Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! »
Jerome Mitchell
This face? Or this one?
0 · 374 views · located in 
New Terra: High Orbit
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Dark Rain
Description
Personality
Just like the nature of Jerome's mutant skill, his personality is extremely difficult to classify. He has received the highest levels of education to adopt the personas of those he plans to mimic, able to pick up on their habits and idiosyncracies with appalling quickness. His very changeable personality is what makes him the ultimate mole, capable of slipping into any role, evading any form of pursuit. Of his partnership, he is the speaker, the face.
Essentially, he is a charming, smooth individual, with a penchant for sly tricks. A conversationalist, the face he presents is one to match the expectations of the interaction. Yet for all his faces, he is far more intelligent and manipulative than one might think, and weighs every word he gives out as a miser living a minimalist existence. Just as ruthless as any member of Midnight, Jerome won't hesitate to terminate any of his sources if they become a liability.
Equipment
Jerome might carry around a standard "Whisper" silenced pistol, a vibra-blade, and his lockbreaker kit.
But his primary weapon and skill is his ability to rewrite his genetic code with no limits to the level of modification. He can become another man, a woman, slap a new face on his body, alter his DNA, even become an animal or plant. He is the ultimate faceless creature of existence, capable of bypassing any sort of biological detection with utter contempt. This also grants him a number of ways to create physical weapons to handle any sort of enemy he might encounter.
In addition, Jerome possesses skills in hacking, is a master lock-cracker, and possesses an eidetic memory.
So begins...
Jerome Mitchell's Story
- Seen 28 Times • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
"Mark spotted, bring us in, Hector."
The speaker tapped away at his displays, fingers snagging the hovering holoplates and shifting them around. It didn't surprise him to find their target in question didn't appear to be wearing a spacesuit, indeed, it was a sure sign that they'd found him. Jerome studied the man on the display, glancing over at his partner manning the helm. "Dropping stealth, Tombs."
Their sleek, sporty yacht suddenly appeared, crimson bolts stylizing the silver surface of the vessel. It swung into a low descent without the aid of visible boosters, counter-grav and grav drives working in tandem. Dropping next to the ship nearby, it settled smoothly on its landing gears.
Jerome tapped a few more holograms, opening up a broadcast channel. "Hailing vessel, hailing vessel. Anyone home?"
The speaker tapped away at his displays, fingers snagging the hovering holoplates and shifting them around. It didn't surprise him to find their target in question didn't appear to be wearing a spacesuit, indeed, it was a sure sign that they'd found him. Jerome studied the man on the display, glancing over at his partner manning the helm. "Dropping stealth, Tombs."
Their sleek, sporty yacht suddenly appeared, crimson bolts stylizing the silver surface of the vessel. It swung into a low descent without the aid of visible boosters, counter-grav and grav drives working in tandem. Dropping next to the ship nearby, it settled smoothly on its landing gears.
Jerome tapped a few more holograms, opening up a broadcast channel. "Hailing vessel, hailing vessel. Anyone home?"
"Jerome Mitchell and Hector Tombs, Dark Rain Scouts." The spook smirked as he let the man on the other end of the line absorb that for a moment. "A little birdy told us a little bit about you, and so you seemed like the perfect man for a little job."
Jerome gave him companion a glare as he snorted, meeting Hector's hooded eyes for a moment. He signed a finger for silence before continuing. "Alright, as Tombs here pointed out, big job. This is the man known as Atik, isn't it?"
The question was one of those careful "slips" of the trade. Of course the spies knew exactly who he was, and likely more about him than he would like to believe. Leaning back in his crash couch, Jerome watched his reflection in the display, eyes flickering through color changes with dizzying speeds.
Jerome gave him companion a glare as he snorted, meeting Hector's hooded eyes for a moment. He signed a finger for silence before continuing. "Alright, as Tombs here pointed out, big job. This is the man known as Atik, isn't it?"
The question was one of those careful "slips" of the trade. Of course the spies knew exactly who he was, and likely more about him than he would like to believe. Leaning back in his crash couch, Jerome watched his reflection in the display, eyes flickering through color changes with dizzying speeds.
The prolonged silence was somewhat pleasing to the spooks, as they exchanged casual grins. Atik was thinking, and that meant they were doing their job. Finally, he answered, and Jerome waved to Hector to continue.
Where Mitchell's voice was rather pleasant, easygoing, Tomb's was gravelly. Perfect for getting straight to business...and playing the bad cop. "Assassination. Target, the Divine Shadow, Emperor of the Aschen Empire."
Jerome quipped in. "As we said, a big job. Finding you, not so hard. We aren't called Scouts without a damn good reason. As for whether or not you accept..."
A knowing glance between the two of them. "We have an alternative lined up, but it seems to us you were simply more...reliable."
Where Mitchell's voice was rather pleasant, easygoing, Tomb's was gravelly. Perfect for getting straight to business...and playing the bad cop. "Assassination. Target, the Divine Shadow, Emperor of the Aschen Empire."
Jerome quipped in. "As we said, a big job. Finding you, not so hard. We aren't called Scouts without a damn good reason. As for whether or not you accept..."
A knowing glance between the two of them. "We have an alternative lined up, but it seems to us you were simply more...reliable."
"I see. Well, as for infiltration, that we can lend a hand with. My partner has entered for a tourist visa, which very, very recently cleared. I, on the other hand, have...borrowed that of the lady he applied with. No doubt you know what such a visa entails, and the nuances of how such a thing is possible shall become clear."
"Oh talk straight, Jerome," Hector cut in. "Jerome's a morpher. I grow bugs. What he means to say is that we can get you through Aschen security as easily as I could hack that two bit Terran network."
Muting the channel for a moment, Jerome glared at Hector. "I thought you said we were doing this my way?"
A finger was his only reply. Sighing, he tapped back online. "In addition, we've been authorized to pay you a very, very substantial fee. And of course, we will provide means of exfiltration, whether or not the task can be completed."
"Oh talk straight, Jerome," Hector cut in. "Jerome's a morpher. I grow bugs. What he means to say is that we can get you through Aschen security as easily as I could hack that two bit Terran network."
Muting the channel for a moment, Jerome glared at Hector. "I thought you said we were doing this my way?"
A finger was his only reply. Sighing, he tapped back online. "In addition, we've been authorized to pay you a very, very substantial fee. And of course, we will provide means of exfiltration, whether or not the task can be completed."
"Excellent. I'm uploading the codes to our communications network now," Hector cursed and turned to his consoles, pale, thin hands flickering like lightning over the displays. "And in truth, if you are ready, we can begin the operation now. To slip through the checkpoints, however, requires your cabin to be a Faraday Cage of sorts. Is that alright?"
Jerome, for his part, was already launching the targeted worms to erase the intelligence they'd gathered on Atik already. Their isolated data-banks didn't transmit to the main networks, of course, and with Hector's eidetic memory they were merely redundant.
The Scouts would keep their mouths shut. Just another facet of the job.
Jerome, for his part, was already launching the targeted worms to erase the intelligence they'd gathered on Atik already. Their isolated data-banks didn't transmit to the main networks, of course, and with Hector's eidetic memory they were merely redundant.
The Scouts would keep their mouths shut. Just another facet of the job.
Jerome pushed off with his feat, his crash couch sliding over the bridge's magnetic floor as slickly as if it were oiled. Slapping a pad on the wall, the airlock disengaged, panels sliding open on the exterior of the vessel, the ramp dropping even as capture fields snapped into place to separate interior air from exterior vacuum. It was a running joke among Dark Rain that Scouts were pampered bastards, for they got to ride in the highest styles of civilian-converted tech Rayviel churned out these days.
The two Scouts waited for their assassin to board, pleased to get this op off the ground. The Aschen were far too confident, thinking that DNA scans, background checks, invasive biomass tests, and even down the line, a telepathic mind search were enough to keep out threats. Oh, they could have snuck in. This was just more fun.
Once Atik was on board, Jerome rose, holding out a hand. Hector merely waved from his seat, turning back to his consoles. "Welcome aboard the Maverick, Mr. Atik. Jerome Mitchell, and my partner, Hector Tombs."
Jerome, for his part, seemed a pleasing enough sight, dressed in casual formal, with an easy smile. Hector, by contrast, was still something of an enigma, shrouded in his large hoodie and facing away.
The two Scouts waited for their assassin to board, pleased to get this op off the ground. The Aschen were far too confident, thinking that DNA scans, background checks, invasive biomass tests, and even down the line, a telepathic mind search were enough to keep out threats. Oh, they could have snuck in. This was just more fun.
Once Atik was on board, Jerome rose, holding out a hand. Hector merely waved from his seat, turning back to his consoles. "Welcome aboard the Maverick, Mr. Atik. Jerome Mitchell, and my partner, Hector Tombs."
Jerome, for his part, seemed a pleasing enough sight, dressed in casual formal, with an easy smile. Hector, by contrast, was still something of an enigma, shrouded in his large hoodie and facing away.
"Very well, right this way." Jerome lead the way across the spacious bridge, the door at its rear irising open. The hall sloped downwards slightly, and he passed a pair of doors before stepping through the third at the end of the hall. Opening to a lounge of some sort, Jerome glanced back with a smirk as he walked up to the bar.
"Martini? Vodka?" The man seemed to idly tap random bottles, mentally chuckling at what would no doubt be an amusing reaction as the wet-bar itself split open, revealing a spartan, basic cabin, the walls lined with fine silver mesh. "I jest. Here is your cabin, and no, you won't find this on the typical schematic. For all outward appearances, it gives off the impression of a secondary power planet, so please, don't play with the pretty silver wallpaper."
Even more shocking, however, was what was becoming of Jerome even as he spoke. The masculine voice rose in pitch, the male figure slimming, altering fluidly. By the time he had finished his spiel, he was perhaps inaccurate.
For a woman now gestured grandly at Atik. "It'll be a while. If you desire it, the synthesizer can generate meals or drinks. We'll let you know when we land."
"Martini? Vodka?" The man seemed to idly tap random bottles, mentally chuckling at what would no doubt be an amusing reaction as the wet-bar itself split open, revealing a spartan, basic cabin, the walls lined with fine silver mesh. "I jest. Here is your cabin, and no, you won't find this on the typical schematic. For all outward appearances, it gives off the impression of a secondary power planet, so please, don't play with the pretty silver wallpaper."
Even more shocking, however, was what was becoming of Jerome even as he spoke. The masculine voice rose in pitch, the male figure slimming, altering fluidly. By the time he had finished his spiel, he was perhaps inaccurate.
For a woman now gestured grandly at Atik. "It'll be a while. If you desire it, the synthesizer can generate meals or drinks. We'll let you know when we land."
Jerome closed the hatch, although there were internal releases. Making his/her way back to the bridge, Hector turned, raising an eyebrow.
"Take off, and next stop, Aschen space."
The Maverick fluidly rose, slipping back into stealth. Where she then demonstrated a feature that likely not existed within any other politics fleet vessels. Slipping forward, would it have been on radar, the yacht would have...vanished.
FTL travel well within the depths of a singularity. "Gotta love the tunnel drive."
"Take off, and next stop, Aschen space."
The Maverick fluidly rose, slipping back into stealth. Where she then demonstrated a feature that likely not existed within any other politics fleet vessels. Slipping forward, would it have been on radar, the yacht would have...vanished.
FTL travel well within the depths of a singularity. "Gotta love the tunnel drive."
Well, this scene, anyways. I can get with barney to slip them through the checkpoints and officially land onto Langara, and then the fun can begin.
“
"Yes!" The unknown man sayed
”
“
Hello?
”
“
Guess im gonna die soon
”
“
The man humed to himself
”
- Seen 28 Times • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2