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[Multiverse] Richard Vega

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[Multiverse] Richard Vega

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SinfulSoul on Sun Apr 08, 2007 9:14 pm

Name: Richard Vega
Age: 26
Hair: Jet-black with red highlights, short and spiked
Eyes: Right eye- red, left eye- black
Height: 6’ 6�
Weight: 355 lbs
Build: massive upper body, thick leg muscles
Clothes: Always wears a black and red flame-pattern trench coat
Tattoos: on his right arm on his left arm
Training: Muay Thai

Mk. 48 mod. 0-
Fitted with RIS (Rail Interface System), optical scope, and assault handle under the barrel
Caliber: 7.62x51mm NATO
Capacity: 100-round belt
Ammo: 3x 100 round belts

Caliber: 5.56mm NATO (KE), 20x85mm HEAB
Capacity: 30-round clip (KE), 6-round clip (HEAB)
Ammo: 3x 30-round clips, 3x 6-round clips

Ramo M650-
Caliber: .50 BMG (12.7x99)
Capacity: 7-round clip
Ammo: 3x 7-round clips

Mark VII Desert Eagle Pistol
Caliber: .50 AE
Capacity: 7-round clip
Ammo: 3x 7-round clips

Mark XIX Desert Eagle Pistol
Caliber: .357 MAGNUM
Capacity: 9-round clip
Ammo: 3x 9-round clips

U.S. Marine Corps Standard Knife.
Two Sais for use with Muay Thai.

A Multitude of additional weaponry that has been gained through a series of conquests including: 2 Calicos, 2 sawed off shotguns, Two Italian shotguns, numerous grenades of various types, Uzis, MP5s, M4s, Nighthawks, the list continues to grow. His most prized weapon is an AI by the name of Melfina that he caries around on him at all times.

SWAT CERT Plus body armor with Fusion Ballistics system, worn under the jacket (Vest and blast collar sections only -
Sunglasses: - Image - Same as what the Twins wore in the Matrix Reloaded movie.
Gloves: Fingerless with ball-caps over the knuckles and a small layer of foam padding in the gloves.
Black Drab Acrylic full face mask.


Richard grew up in a ghetto in Los Angeles, surrounded by crime and violence from early childhood. Organized crime was rampant there. He and his brother Benito were the result of a pregnancy when his parents, Tony and Maria Vega, were only teenagers. His parents were the leaders of a gang called the Bushido, run on an ancient code of honor borrowed from the Japanese samurai class that his father always admired. They were married when Benito was born, followed five years later by Richard. However, they were both killed when Richard was only five. The gang respected Tony’s last wishes and raised the children among them.

Benito eventually succeeded to lead the gang while his brother took up a job as a freelance hit-man. His brother allowed him to go his separate way, as long as he could always count on him to help the gang out in a pinch. Richard first started killing while he was still with the gang at 15. When he was 17 he started to work as a private hitman and began working out almost full time at the local gym. At 19 he was renowned for his ability to kill quickly, silently, and without a trace. He had accomplished twenty-four missions by that time, only running into trouble twice. When he did, he ended up killing his target’s bodyguards too. All of the other times, no one knew what was going on until long after Richard had finished what he’d come to do.

7 years into the future, the present with Richard Age 26. An introduction to GWing and recruitment for SOLDIER created by Soldier Rain.

A behemoth among men stood in the dim light of a concealed apartment in downtown Metro City. His muscular body was immense and evident even through the heavy layers of S.W.A.T grade body armor. A pair of dog tags hung around his neck that dangled on top of the armor. His knee caps and elbows were strapped with armored joint-cuffs that narrowed to a point in the center. He was in fact built head to toe as if his body was designed for Muay Thai combat. A trench coat tipped with red flames rising from the bottom weighed heavily down on top of the weight of the body armor. Inside, the coat was lined in a series of weaponry organized in a similar fashion to the room he stood in. The variety of weaponry carried signified the man's fluency in heavy weapons combat.

The apartment was small, but it was built like a stronghold, personalized by its occupant. The room the man stood in was lit by a single uncovered yellow bulb hanging from a chain in the center of the room. The yellow light reflected off of polished metal all around the room. It caught a reflection off of the silver tags hanging from his neck, shining the name "Richard Vega" for a brief moment. The assortment of weaponry rivaled that of an armory despite the cramped conditions - almost no space was left unused as his conquests over targets continued to increase his collection. All were well maintained and organized by type and size. Massive amounts of ammo were located in thick armored drawers lined in antiballistics material. The only sign of sentiment was a brown bag that rested on top of a crude coffee table next to a worn recliner that sat in the most fortified of corners. In the brown bag were dog tags dating as far back as a generation before his own.

He utilized the latest devices available to him with the same mastery as his weaponry - a sign of dedication and total discipline to his trade. His sunglasses sensed heat, displayed a variety of data in full color with audio, defiled darkness as well as protected against light. Laid over the inside of his left forearm contained the computer that controlled such functions built in with a resident intelligence to automate these features as necessary. Even the red tips that highlighted his short, spiky, black hair were embedded with micro antennas to send and receive signals. Yet he knew all too well the pains of entirely relying on machinery, which is why he had never undergone surgical enhancements - a direct defiance in the name of pride for the truest supreme being, the biological man.

Richard Vega set the XM29 OICW Assault Rifle in an outline reserved specifically for it alone. It was a recent prize from an extremely swift hit and run attack on Metro City's armory, one that he had been planning for months specifically to obtain such a beautiful and powerful weapon. Ammo was cheap and standardized, but the weapon was a fortune itself. He peeled off the fingerless knuckle capped gloves and set them at a specific location on one of the tabletops. It seemed everything had an exact location designated for each item.

Just as he was getting ready to pull off his sunglasses, a message displayed on both lenses showing that a message was being intercepted on multiple wavelengths. Melfina, the resident intelligence, informed him that the signal being sent out was radiating a distance of several light years over almost every channel of communication. It was unusual for anyone to even have the ability to broadcast on such a wide scale, let alone be allowed to do so. His only guess would be that it was some important announcement, and so he tuned in to the most stable signal.

The message for arms caught his attention, but more than that, the face that contrasted youth with wisdom and sorrow. He had seen it before, of that he could almost be sure. A brief moment at a bar somewhere in Metro City, he could only remember it faintly. Those eyes had changed, he would have remembered those green eyes if they were like that. Had they shared a drink? Whiskey maybe? He remembered the gun that faced him, a .50 Caliber Desert Eagle like one of his own. He remembered the weight on the holster it sat in; it was fully loaded and the safety recklessly left off... Or was that on purpose? He intended to use it, he could tell by the way he talked. He could tell he had fired it before, he wasn't afraid to use it. They didn't talk much; money wasn't in the conversation and so it was pointless.

Money... The speech picked at a stone cold history of service in arms that he had trained himself to avoid thinking about. He couldn't resist the calling for long though, it was where he belonged. But the money? He had earned the pride and respect worthy of his experiences to be a veteran by 24. Now at 26 he was in the business for the money to pay the price for perfecting his trade. The prospect interested him nonetheless, so long as it paid. It suited his trade and if there ever was a soldier worthy of being called one, he was it.

The red highlights on his hair moved ever so slightly as Melfina worked. By now Melfina had tracked multiple source points that were open for response. With his command she patched an encrypted signal through with a holographic representation of himself.

""I am Richard Vega, at your service if the pay is right. And be quick, my time is precious.""
Melfina continued monitoring conversation. On the top right corner of Vega's display was a timer that counted down the minimum amount of time required to crack his signal from an outside threat.

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