Description

Name: Gary

Nickname: Smartass

Height: 6'

Weight: 200 lbs

Occupation(s): Non-combat advisory Synthetic

Skills:
-Mathematics
-Navigations
-Astrology
-Biology
-Piloting
-Maintenance
-Being Smarter Than Organics
-Telling Jokes
-Being Awesome
-Good Listener
-Hacking Into My Own File :)
-Getting Into Trouble For Being Caught
-And Bypassing Their New Firewalls :p

Useful Items:
-Personal PDA linked wirelessly with his internal processor.
-M4 sidearm (Not what he wanted)

Appearance:

Gary's appearance runs just above a baseline average, tuned to mimic human that much better. Unlike previous models, whose pale skin was a dead giveaway, Gary appears completely natural from any exterior angle. He even has signs of some kind of aging, with graying sideburns and icy blue eyes. As a side issue, he's almost always smirking, like your unknowingly part of some joke and just don't get it.

Personality:
Sometimes, Gary can be grating. He's always the first to make a suggestion, and absolutely hates being ignored. He's the kind of synth to flaunt being nonorganic, and if he proves you wrong, he'll rarely let you live it down. Surprisingly, he tends to be a practical joker and trademark smartass by nature. Some of his greatest feats have included shutting off the artificial gravity in the bridge, replacing certain "boring" mission briefings with episodes of "My Little Pony", and waking up the entire ship by blaring "It's Friday" over the intercom last Saturday.

Despite all these things that make him less of an android and more of an Artificial Pain in the Ass, he still has to follow The Three Laws of Robotics. With one fun flaw. His Inhibitors run on a separate processor than his main AI, with kill-switches ready to terminate him if it's tampered with. The fun bit comes in when he and his inhibitors "disagree" on something. The last encounter with xenomorphs proved this. Gary recognized them as non-human and could warrant violence, but on a scan they showed to possess human DNA. His combat inhibitor labeled them protected by the First Law, meaning that Gary could do practically nothing against them. He was REALLY unhappy about that.

RP Sample:
The docking bay of the Nicodemus was abuzz with everyone preparing for landing. Last minute orders were commed in to the pilots as they raced to their landing crafts. Everyone was how every military occupation went for the ship, which meant Gary was busy pestering Briggs about something.

"Excuse me, sir? I think there was something that got crossed in orders. Sergeant Major Alexander was sent planet-side to work things over with the big boss down there."

"Yes, Gary, he was. What's your point?"

'Well, I did specify several times that I'd be more than happy to go down there. I mean, I know everything there is to know about negotiations, politics, and.... well, how not to be an uptight sourpuss all the time. Suffice it to say, I'm Bill's opposite, so clearly something went wrong here."

"No, Gary, nothing went wrong. I sent the SgtMaj down there, and not you. So please return to your post."

"My post is data surveyance, sir, which I can do in my head. In fact I'm doing it right now. But still, Bill? Really? How could you pick Bill over me? When's the last time Bill has cracked a joke? Or done anything other than frown? Not to mention, he's old. All my data says that people generally don't like the old, cranky geezer. That, and what if he dies of old age on the way there? I mean, for all we know he could-"

"Gary...."

"Break his hip, have to go to bed, miss-"

"Gary."

"His favorite rerun of some decade old show-"

"Gary! You're not going. You're being assigned to...... Whiskey squad. Gear up and be ready for launch. You are dismissed."

"One last thing, sir?"

".......... What?"

"Can I request a bigger gun?"

"Goodbye, Gary."

Despite his proclaimed hyperawareness, Gary had missed that the Colonel had strategically placed them on opposite ends of an open bulkhead door. With the press of a button, the door slid closed, bringing a premature end to the conversation, much to the Colonels relief. New mission parameters flashed up on Gary's HUD, details on his new squad and their military record. It wasn't really needed, seeing as he was almost always assigned to Wingus and Dingus, A.K.A. Owens and Daniels. With an annoyed sigh, he knocked on the Colonel's door with one last question.

"So, was that a 'yes' on the gun thing...?"

So begins...

Gary's Story

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Setting

Elysium City

Characters Present

Character Portrait: SgtMa William Mathew Alexander

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#2013-05-14 15:05:43, as written by Raidose

Mr. Cade's Office

"Looks like we need to clear some things up. Firstly, our presence here is far from a formality. Your citizens are still disappearing, and a Xenomorph hive was confirmed to be present on the planet, even if it is supposedly destroyed now. Secondly, my men will likely not step foot in this city unless necessary. Even if they do, they are unlikely to scare your citizens any more than the fact that you're willing to bet their lives just to satisfy your own sense of pride. Thirdly, I will report whatever it is that I find, which I believe will probably not be nothing. Finally, while you may be the proprietor of this city, you, and your superiors for that matter, are still a civilian. As such, you have no real authority over this operation. All the same, I do understand, and I hope that you do as well."

This response was interesting, to say the least, and actually brought a bit of a smirk to Mr. Cade's lips. This one was a bit more direct than the usual gutless bureaucrats that usually were sent to darken his doorstep. This one just walked right in, smelling of the Corp., and wasn't going to budge. Dutiful, respectable, admirable. And completely oblivious that he was being led around by the nose. The sort of naive one could only breed in the USCM. This one might be trouble, but for some reason that only made it more interesting.

"You're a very by-the-book sort, aren't you? I can respect that...."

Cade spun back around, to face the Sergeant Major with that semblance of a smirk still on his face.

"Alright, we'll play it your way. Yes, a hive was confirmed, but confirmation of it's eradication was also given. Yes, citizens are disappearing, but for a city this size, that's unavoidable. Do you know how many missing individuals are reported in places like New York or L.A. back on Earth? Close to one hundred. A day. Today, I have eight, eight people which my law enforcement are already hard-pressed to find. These can be attributed to workplace hazards or simply skipping town. Maybe even local crime, some areas of this city are nearly impossible to fully police without invoking martial law. No Matter the cause, surely this count would be much higher if there were a hive, wouldn't you agree? And surely some traces of them would be found by now. My best men have scoured the darkest recesses of Elysium and found nothing....."

Mr. Cade reclined back, closing his eyes and giving a light scoff.

"But I suppose there isn't much I can say. We all have our orders, in one form or another. So, for the purposes of your superiors, consider me begrudgingly cooperative. Find what you're looking for, and then depart. Now, if you'll excuse me, Sergeant" he emphasized, not-so-subtly insulting the man by "forgetting" the second part of his title, "But I am dreadfully late for a meeting. My secretary will show you out. Wouldn't want you to get lost, would we?"

There was no hiding that last bit. Hell, like there was a way to hide any of it. Mr. Cade stood straight up, pulling his PDA out of his suit-pocket and turning towards his overview of the city, a clear signal that he was no longer acknowledging Bill's presence here. A clearer message couldn't be given with a teleprompter: Don't let the door hit you on the way out. This had taken much too long already, and he knew the reclusive, some might say excentric, Dr. Langford only got more irritable when she was kept waiting. As soon as he heard the door close, his thumb tapped the surface of the pad and an image of an extremely bored Botanist, rhythmically clicking a pen, flashed onscreen.

"Dr. Langford. I am incredibly busy this morning, so let's keep this brief, shall we?"

His monotone voice was that of his usual business-first demeanor. These reviews were tedious, but necessary. Best be done with them.

The Jungle

Sensors under his skin sent signals to his central processing units, voicing various data feeds which all translate to the same thought. It's raining, and I'm wet. Yay, life. Gary's hand smoothed out his drenched, synthetic hair, continually grumbling at his assignment. Whiskey never saw much excitement. It's not that they were not reliable or anything, it was usually because they.... uhhhh...... yeah. His boots sunk into the non-terrestrial muck, which seemed to be slowly trying to devour him from the ankles up. It's consistency marked it as mostly red clay, with a slightly higher concentration petroleum than usual, making this just shy of being a freaking tar trap. On the plus side, I bet if you drilled down far enough, you'd hit oil. Huh.... wonder if there'd be a finder's fee?

Even with all his improvements over the organic human body, the mud still made movement a fun experience. Thank God for suction-sealed boots. He eventual schlunked his way through the crowds of rushing marines as his facial recognition scans picked Lance Corporal Jackie Owens' face out of the collage of troops. In his head, he went through incoming orders for squads. A lot of them weren't suppose to be broadcasted, but like that ever stopped him? Besides, I had to find something better to do, Whiskey was assigned to civilian detail. Dealing with uptight snobs all day? Boring! So what have we got here? Echo? Nope. Foxtrot? Uh-uh. Oooh! 'Delta is to respond to a missing security team in sector 23'? That's a good ways away, but hey, beats civie babysitting. Good luck with that, Delta. This has adventure and mystery written all over it.

"Heyo, Owens! Got some S&R orders for you toons. Up for a nature walk with your bestest buddy android?"

Setting

Elysium City

Characters Present

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#2013-05-15 04:54:58, as written by DustAndEchoes

LCpl Owens wasn't having any luck, thus far. Squads were moving in and out with a quickness on a dozen different tasks. So when a dark grey jumper with a distinctly un-military appearance ghosts out of the steaming rain, Jackie grins.

"Heyo, Owens! Got some S&R orders for you toons. Up for a nature walk with your bestest buddy android?"

"Glad to see you made it down in one piece, Toaster. I was sure someone would've put a plug up your ass for a microwave by now."

Coarse humor and brutish language aside, the Marine brings a pair of fingers to the side of her helmet to accept the orders he'd found for Delta Squad. Being the Tech sergeant had its rewards, among them being a HUD link to the synthetic. A human-android interface, if you will. It made them natural - if occasionally competitive - partners.

"It's not Whiskey." She says, obviously, before shrugging, "But I cant find 'em anywhere. I think Command may've pushed them into the city already. Rat bastards left us behind in the muck."

She drops her hand and waves him on, turning to slog through the mud and under a transport ship's wing in the direction of Delta.

"They're short a medic. Already pinged their Sergeant, they'll be happy to have us and it'll get us outta digging a latrine or something... Not that you don't love shoveling shit and passing it off as your expert opinion." Her teeth flash white in a broad grin. While, to anyone else, the acerbic mockery was insulting in the extreme, to USCM Marines, it was just good humor. You know you love these Ultimate Badasses.

They arrive at the Marine unit just as they've finished their brief, and get the rundown from one of the privates. An early recon team sent down to secure a wide perimeter had gone silent, and on a jungle world that'd already seen one bug hive, that was unacceptable to the Sargent-Major. He'd want a report when he got back, and he would want it so far yesterday that it should already be filed and forgotten.

Into the jungle, the small cluster goes, with Gary and Owens in tow. The benefit is that the thickened canopy and root-covered forest floor makes the going somewhat easier in the dark and the rain. Their LED shoulder lights make a cluster of daylight around them, throwing sharp shadows and bright jungle colors into sudden relief.

It's a good long march before they get anywhere near the last position of the hapless Marines, long enough for initial chatter to die down into concentrating on not getting fat drops of rain right in the face, so it's silent going until the point man holds up a fist.

"We're close, now. Anyone got eyes?"

"Nope. The hell are these assholes?"

"Think some bugs got 'em?"

"Shut it, Smitty. Word from on-high is they burned that nest. Probably fell down a goddamn hole. .. This rock have any ... like.. -big- nasty animals?"

"You mean besides yo momma?"

A shove turns into a quick jostling before someone whistles, coming up on the position of the locator tags. Not liking the silence, weapons start to unlimber from slings with that distinct rifle rattle. Owens pats down her gear, being sure of its security, before ratcheting down the helmet with that distinct green cross and finding the fat block of a locator. It powers up with a low hum and a glow of blue light, showing their clustered dots in the middle of its pulsing range lines. In ones and twos, the other, non-moving dots just sit there in decidedly not normal manner, and Owens takes the time to frown at it, give it a smack, and shake her head at Delta's lead.

Slowly, the Marines close in on those dots, spilling over into a small ravine one by one with rifles and shoulder lamps sweeping.

"The fuck? They should be right here."

"... They are, Smitty... look up."

Strung from the dripping tree limbs like grim ornaments, the bodies, skinned straight to the muscle - are hung from their ankles, skull's teeth smiling down at them. Scraps of Marine armor litter the ground, as well as broken, discarded weapons. Many of which don't even look to have been fired.

Jackie looks up for a long moment, before she swallows, turns slightly, and promptly vomits. She isn't the only one. In the hand that isn't grasping desperately at the front of her uniform, the tracker beeps ominously. There's something moving, out there in the rain, and it's getting closer.

Setting

Elysium City

Characters Present

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#2013-05-17 23:55:54, as written by Raidose

"Everything is progressing as I said it would in the last report. The only thing worth noting is that we've found something interesting about the Leo Rosa. I'm sure you recall that it's a rose like plant that secretes a sticky, sweet-smelling, acidic substance to draw in insects. Well, today we learned that the substance is also highly combustible. One of the lab techs on his break apparently decided to believe that the No Smoking sign was just for show. Ended up contributing more to the field that he ever did in life."

"I see.... We'll arrange for financial compensation for any family he may have had. In the meantime, I want you to divert more attention to the Leo Rosa. Test the extent of it's properties. If it's particularly useful, we can synthesize it and mass produce it. If it has no other uses than a cheap ball of fire, hell, weaponize it. The USCM is always buying. A replacement for your work staff will be supplied by the end of the day. Ah...... And the lab has finished it's analysis. I'll forward the details to you. Report back to me should any sudden discoveries arise. And Doctor? Try not to lose anymore members of your team. They may be junior researchers, but they don't grow on trees."

Cade's face was the definition of apathy when the vidcomm cut out. He couldn't care less about some peon in the labs, so long as it served a purpose. Speaking of sacrifice in the name of progress, another alert beeped over his PDA. Glancing down, he noticed it was S-12, a squad of his personal androids he'd deployed into the lower levels on a "routine" inspection. Mr. Cade was actually quite eager to hear their report, which was slightly unusual for him. With the tap of his thumb, a private encrypted channel was opened between the two.

"Sir, we've found a body. Wounds on cadaver indicate a clean kill. Single impalement just below the sternum. Several postmortem puncture wounds are scattered across the body, indicative of xenomorph feeding habits. Substance lining the wounds are traces of hive resin. Current projections indicate that with a lack of other bodies, the twenty-seven missing workers would all become hosts, a great increase in boldness for them. Gestation cycles of xenomorph embryos would place current hive size at approximately fortify-five members, with more than that number still acting as hosts. What are your orders?"

"Burn it. Burn it all. No evidence, no witnesses. You report these matters to me alone, and terminate anyone or anything that decides to eavesdrop. Understand?"

The metallic, monotone voice of the inhuman speaker on the other end confirmed with no emotion, as did Mr. Cade. The call ended, as he stood in front of his large, empowering window, watching over the entire South end of the city. His dark eyes pierced out through the tinted glass, as if he could spot them from here.

"Should have just died in your hole, you bitch...."

The Jungle

Many things vied for dominance. Animals, men, monsters, and even the storms in the sky shoved each other aside. The low rumbles of thunder were gone, replaced by dark clouds that rivaled nightfall, and the downpour of rain which ruined the hunt. Though, this wasn't a hunt, was it? This held a deeper meaning, the toying with the softmeat. The great walls of the city gave little entrance for even the most savvy of hunters. But it was merely safety for their prey, and the oomans were skittish. If they were given a reason to flee, the predator need only follow the retreating prey to their hole in the great wall. Many of these little packs had they made trophies of, but this was getting nowhere. The one survivor was likely too terrified to find it's own way.

Even though the rain disrupted their ghost suits, the Yautja kept on with the chase. Close enough to startle this ooman into running, but never were they seen. The wind rustled the leaves around them, carrying with it the sound of oomans to the East. Giving up on the chase, they followed the source and found a new source to have fun with. These ones were different, a strange mix of discipline and rashness. These were warriors which Ni'Charak had known before. Good sport, not of this city. Krit'Na was inexperienced with the oomans in general, never before even seeing them till they'd landed on this world. The Youngblood listened and watched them intently, but scarcely understood their woods. Ni'Charak, on the other hand, knew a fair bit of their language. Enough to get a general idea, though he was often confused by their..... slang.

Still, it was inevitable that they run afoul of the remnants of previous squads. More so since Krit'Na had found the signal they used to detect each other on those tiny objects they carried. Perfect bait. Though their haul was.... less than desired. The supposed hardened warriors, of which Ni'Charak told many tales, barely could stand the sight of their fallen comrades. The smell of their sick lingered in the air, forcing Krit'Na to back away a bit. He raised an eyebrow and flexed a mandible inquisitively, questioning his brother's knowledge of these creatures. This earned him a threatening trill, and a hand signal to keep quiet. Even their proud race had lesser warriors, those sent into the battle without being fully prepared. The softmeat were no different. Besides, an interesting confrontation was closing in fast.

Still running, for hours it felt like. To where, to who, to what, it didn't matter. Taggert just kept running. The humidity of the jungle was unbearable, sweat was pouring off of his skin so profusely that the rain made no difference. Three times now. Three times had he run into another squad on patrol, and each time the same happened. The laughing started, guns were fired, and then everyone died..... Everyone but him. They were letting him live. Why? It didn't matter, no time to think, just had to get out of here. They were still behind him, chasing him, hunting him. Running as fast as he could, the pain in his legs rivaling that of his missing arm. His senses were all blurred by the sensation, hell, he could barely notice all the flashlights and guns in his face when he broke through the brush into the clearing.

"Get on the ground now, Motherfucker!"

"Whoa, whoa, hold up! He's unarmed! And" Gary added very matter-of-factly, "he isn't USCM. This yahoo is a local. Oh, and he's missing a limb, but I'm guessing you already noticed that....."

Seen 3 Times • Page 1 of 1

Gary

0 · 351 views · located in Elysium City

a character in “Aliens versus Predator: Burning Down Paradise”, as played by Raidose

Description

So begins...

Gary's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Setting

Characters Present

Setting

Characters Present