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Jim French

Even though he is a mercenary, he is well-read, and seems to have much knowledge on worldly events and other things, like science, literature, and more. There is more to him that it seems, perhaps he is hiding something.

0 · 118 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by DJAtomika

Description

He stands 6 feet tall, with scruffy brown hair and sky blue eyes. He wears a pair of rimless glasses, rectangular lenses, plain black frame. He is not as muscular as a weight-lifter, but being a mercenary, he is quite muscular. He hides his build underneath a long-sleeved white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. A pair of leather fingerless gloves reside on his hands, and he wears a pair of combat boots on his feet. A holster for a handgun resides underneath his arm, and a belt containing a few pouches and sheathes for ammo clips goes around his waist, poking out from underneath his shirt.

Add to this the fact that he also physically looks like a cheetah. Sandy yellow fur covers his entire body, the fur peppered with black spots and markings, characteristic of a cheetah. His face isn't human, more animalistic in nature. He has the muzzle and ears of a cheetah, as well as the markings of one.

On his chest, over where his heart would be, is a tattoo of a cheetah, not unlike this.

Personality

Jim likes nothing more than having a mug of beer with friends, cracking jokes and whiling away the time with his buddies. He may be smart, but that doesn't mean he sometimes make stupid mistakes. These mistakes often come in the form of his tongue slipping and mis-matching words. Kinda like wanting to say 'Chasing dreams' but saying 'Dasing cheams' instead. That's what makes him funny.

Other times, if you're conversing with him normally, he will sometimes compare the events that have happened recently to things that have happened in history that are similar. He enjoys doing this, as it keeps his mind active and alert, as well as keeping his memory fresh.

Equipment

His equipment includes:

A FN FAMAS assault rifle, chambered with standard NATO 5.56mm rounds in a 30 round magazine.
A SIG-Sauer P226 9mm pistol, 15 round magazine.
An army-issue combat knife.
An extensive history of martial arts practice.
A latent ability (that has yet to be uncovered) that is sometimes activated by the tattoo on his chest. These latent abilities include extreme speed, near-impossible aiming skills and agility that surpasses even the best martial artists and free-runners. The downside of this is that he doesn't even know how to activate these powers, they come on at random times, or sometimes not even when he needs them.

History

He became a mercenary after his military training, after he discovered his family mysteriously murdered by individuals unknown. Taking two guns and a history of cruel treatment by his superiors, he offered his services as a gun-for-hire.

So begins...

Jim French's Story

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Jim French takes a tentative step into the bar, before looking around for the bartender. Spotting him, he moves to the bar and sits down at the counter. 'Say, sir. D'you serve good beer here?'

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Jim French takes the beer, a bit surprised that it suddenly formed out of thin air. He takes a gulp, before setting the mug gently down on the counter. 'Thanks. Do I need to pay you?'

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Jim French looked at the lady next to him, looking very much like a mercenary. He shrugged, before returning to his beer. 'Feh. Canned beer isn't too bad. Being on a 2 month work assignment in the Africa Savannah takes a lot out of ya. I just want a nice cold beer after all that canned crap.'

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Jim French pulls a cigarette from where it sat on his ear, and lighted it with a lighter he withdrew from his jeans pocket. He stuffed the lighter back into his pocket and took a long drag on his cigarette, exhaling the smoke at the counter, where it wouldn't bother anyone but himself.

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Jim French looked at the lady. 'Well, you're in a gang, so you beat up people for spare change. I'm sorta like that. Heard of mercenaries before?'

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Jim French nodded. 'Sorta. Mercs like us, we gather, sometimes, into companies. Together we offer our services to people in distress.' He took another drag of the cigarette in his mouth, blowing the smoke out gently through the small grin on his face. 'Think of mercenaries as soldiers-for-hire. We get hired, we sign a contract, we fight, and at the end of it all, we get paid.' He then turns to another person, who apparently was wishing him peace. 'Um, peace be with you too?'

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Jim French took a sip from his beer. 'How do I call myself, eh? My name's Jim. Jim French.'

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Jim French chuckled. 'You don't look like the type that needs helpin', missy. I bet you can take care of yourself pretty damn good.'

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Jim French turns back to the counter, only to have a head pop up from behind it. He gets startled, jumping back a few centimetres before relaxing again. 'Damnit. This place's very damn weird.'

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Jim French held up his mug of beer, still about half full. 'S'okay, missy. I have my own drink already.'

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Jim French turned to the lady behind him that said something about someone being French. 'Who, me?' He chuckled, before extending his hand to the youthful lady. 'Name's French. Jim French. Eh, speaking of which,' He turns to look at the lady gang-member. 'What's your name?'

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Character Portrait: Jim French Jim French says,
 Tahira, eh? Nah, I don't come from a French family.

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Character Portrait: Jim French Jim French says,
 Blame my dad. He gave me his surname.

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Character Portrait: Jim French Jim French says,
 God knows why his daddy gave him the surname of French.

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Jim French shrugged his shoulders and sipped from his beer, his cigarette already crushed inside an ash tray. He looked to the frustrated, armour-clad lady. 'Bartender left a while back.'

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Jim French chuckles and extends his hand for Donnie to shake. 'Nice to meet ya, Donnie.'

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Jim French turned to the confused young lady. 'Eh, I can tell. Where you from, miss?'

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Jim French shook Donnie's hand, giving her a warm grin and a hearty laugh. 'Some grip you have there, miss.'

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Jim French gave the young lady (not armour-clad) a confused look. 'Wha-?'

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Character Portrait: Jim French Jim French says,
 Egypt, eh?

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Jim French pushed the glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose, back up from where they had slid. He turned to Adonia, intending to make conversation with her. 'So, uh, where do you go about your business as a gangster, Donnie?

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Jim French chuckled. 'Please, call me Jim. I feel bad making people call me, a simple mercenary, Mister French.' He sipped from his beer and sighed, somewhat bored now.

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Jim French turned to Tahira. 'Well, she's American. So am I.' He turned back to Donnie. 'Which state are you from, Donnie?'

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Jim French chuckled. 'New York. Cool. I was born there as well. You might not believe it, but I worked as a librarian before I became a mercenary.' He shook his head, letting his brown hair fall over his eyes. He brushed the hair away and took another sip from his beer. 'My folks would roll in their graves if they found out about what I've become.'

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Jim French gave Tahira a quick once-over, not noticing the wanted poster with her picture at the far end of the bar. 'Hmm. Now that Donnie mentioned it, you do look kinda familiar.'