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Aleric Stockard

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a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Nevermore90

Description

Image
Aleric Stockard
Eye Color: Grey-brown
Hair color: Brown
Height: 6'2
Weight: 185ibs
Accent: Aleric isn't affected by any "Accent," although his vernacular isn't American standard; when he talks to girls, he normally uses "Lass" instead of their name.

Aleric is the picture of perfect physical health in a high-technology setting. He's mostly lean muscle (the kind developed with running and gymnastics, not weight lifting), square-jaw, attractive build-though not through natural design gene treatments, injections, and all other manner of non-surgery went into making Aleric the best looking he could possibly be. He's as strong as a man should be in his prime and just as athletic.

Personality

ImageAleric likes to think of himself as being someone who likes to be secluded, quiet, alone, left alone, not bothered, and unencumbered by the company of others, but just about the opposite is true; he unconsciously yearns for the attention and companionship of other, like-minded individuals. He's a natural caretaker, husbandmen, and confidant. He also enjoys fights and killing a lot more than he would ever admit. Aleric is also a big pessimist.

Philosophy: If the first shot doesn't kill me, you better pray to whatever God you worship the next one does.

Aleric currently lives on the second floor of Gambit's hotel-section.

Equipment

Image7.62STANAG assault rifle

History

Aleric grew up the bastard child of one of the Multiverse's worst misbegotten relationships. Neither of his parents really gave a damn one way or the other as to what he did with himself during the day or whether he made it home at night. The SnC (The parenting nation he grew up in) didn't really give a damn, either, until he was 17, and showed academic potential far surpassing what would be expected from such an unfortunate childhood. He wasn't an attention-getter, didn't like attention, didn't want it-but it found him and thrust itself upon him in a very unexpected way.
One afternoon, shortly after lunch, Aleric was called down to Head-Dean Warrick's office. Never haven gotten into trouble before save a minor scuffle in the ninth grade, this naturally scared the piss out of him. When he arrived, the dean was accompanied by one Sargent Lockerlaker, who offered him a contract for military service. The SnC had encroached on colonies of a bug-like race that was kicking their ass back to SnC's home planet, and they needed a guinea pig for the E.L.F. program (E.D.E.N. project of Longevity and Fertility), which was essentially the second-largest publicity stunt since the SPARTAN2 program went public in UNSC-controlled space.
Aleric (as far as he knows) was the first and only test subject. Everything went so well, he was put on the battlefield and was portrayed as almost single-handedly saving humanity from the bug-monster-aliens. (That wasn't the whole truth, of course, but it was close) Aleric returned to SnC-controlled space for R&R and 6 months of fame in which every man, woman, and child wanted pictures, autographs, or sex. It was great, though he was world-weary and wanted nothing more than sleep after the years he spent on ass-backwards planets eating sawdust and fighting for his life.
Well, it was great until those six months ended, and Aleric was framed for rape, murder, assassination, treason, tyranny, and a slew of other crimes. He was incarcerated in the MAG6, the SnC's worst prison on a bone dry-desert planet and the edge of their colonies. He escaped of course, being the genetically-altered freak-of-science that fought off SnC's impending doom only a year ago. He collected a stripped down version of his old armored suit, a stylish jacket to wear over it, a few guns, and plenty of ammo. Getting off planet was easy, though getting out of SnC space wasn't.

Now Aleric is in Wing City, working security in Gambit's by day and fathering a 13 year old science-freak like himself by night.


Aleric Stockard pushed the bar's entrance door in, guessing that only suicidal SnC soldiers would start a fight in a place who's very mention sent shivers down many one's spine. It had its happy moments, sure, but it was all too well known for attempts at mass murder, zombie attacks, god-on-god war (or... worse), terrible plagues, and bad service. With its... interesting assortment of orderable items, it also served the purpose of helping Aleric obtain some cheap painkillers-addictions are hard to kick.
With a little sigh, Aleric pulled his second-head from off his face and folded the material into a jacket pocket. It looked like flimsy cloth when it was off, but the mesh was bullet-proof-and warm. No longer in the rain (which his jacket protected him from regardless), he could afford to shed a bit of his extra skin. Barrel-down and strapped across his back, an assault rifle bounced gently against his ass as his strolled in, found himself an empty seat, and ordered a likely stupid combination of medication and alcohol.
A small serving robot, as NPCs were cheaper and easier to write for when they lacked any reason to have a personality, shuffled around the endless storage room for "Trimium Patch-ups" and a small bottle of vodka. Rather than physically bring it to him, however, the items (as if by magic but more likely through high technology), disappeared and reappeared on his table. The price-worth of money, at he same time, similarly left his wallet. Life was simple, the vodka burned, and the painkillers but his nerves at ease.

So begins...

Aleric Stockard's Story

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Aleric Stockard looked back at her. "You sure you're fine, really? You don't seem fine."

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Aleric Stockard grabbed one of her shoulders. "Eleesa! What the fuck? C'mon, get in the bathroom..." He got up and tried to make her stand, too.

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Aleric Stockard put his other hand on her. "I'm right here, lass. C'mon, let's get to the bathroom." He lifted her up and turned her head so she couldn't puke on him. "C'mon..."

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Aleric Stockard held her tightly. "Like what?" He walked to the bathroom very carefully.

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Aleric Stockard got her into the woman's restroom and hoped to God there weren't any liberal feminists in there waiting to assault him with a purse. He got her into a stall and put the seat up. "C'mon, if you need to throw up, do it in here."

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Aleric Stockard let go of her and let her do her thing. It didn't smell very good. He turned his back to her for privacy and hoped, again, that no one would come in and shoo him out of the women's restroom.

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Aleric Stockard noticed Melanthe when she came in and sighed. He turned back away when he thought she was going to undress to help ELeesa. "No no, you're fine. You can't throw up and die." It was possible, but he didn't believe it would happen to her. "You just need a gatorade or something."

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Aleric Stockard groaned. He cleaned her off with some toilet paper, picked her up, and carried her to his room.

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Aleric Stockard pushed the bar door open with his left arm, his right arm around Crestelle's shoulders. "Do you get benefits where you work? We've spent a shitload of your sick-pay money this week, Crestelle." He tried to lead her through the assorted crowd of NPCs and persons that filled the bar today, at the same time avoiding security because he was (technically) not allowed to enter the establishment anymore. Ever. Stupid rules...
"And are you feeling alright? You scared the piss out of me when you came home."

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Aleric Stockard sighed and stuck his free hand in his pocket. She didn't comment on the quickly becoming as poor as he was statement. "You want to hang out down here?" He looked around the bar and noted a blob of green at one of the tables. "It looks like a friend of mine is down here, if you want to socialize."

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Aleric Stockard squeezed her shoulders comfortingly. "He's fine, I promise. I've been feeding and watering him." He was going to say something else when the child yelled at him. "Oi? Hey, uh... C'mere Crestelle." He turned and tried to lead her in the other direction. "I'd actually like you to meet Eleesa."

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Aleric Stockard rubbed her arm. "Eleesa, this is my friend Crestelle." He sighed and tried to think of a good way to give bad news. "Um... I lost my room upstairs so I have to live with her now, just for a while until I find a job, okay? So I can't give you anywhere to sleep for a while."

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Aleric Stockard let go of her but didn't look away from Eleesa. "Sorry."

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Aleric Stockard obviously didn't mind her... whatever the hell she was electrocution stuff. "I don't hear anything." He shrugged. "I don't have any money for you, either."

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Aleric Stockard shook his head. "It's your face." Great, the girl fell asleep again.

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Aleric Stockard shook his head again. "No. No one is singing Crestelle."

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Aleric Stockard hugged her slowly and awkwardly. "Um... What are you talking about? Some kind of... magic thing?"

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Aleric Stockard yawned softly. "If you want to, okay."

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Aleric Stockard walked downstairs wondering well in the hell his roommate was left. She left saying she was going to check the bill-listings "At work" to see if there were any job openings he could take, but it had been hours since then. He trusted she hadn't gotten herself hurt, even though the possibility was strong, her being refined to a wheelchair and all after she got shot in the leg.
Aleric yawned the stitching in his stomach from where one of two bullets found him. He slid into a seat and ordered dinner with some money he had taken from Crestelle, aforementioned roommate.

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Aleric Stockard looked up when 5.45x79mm was fired. "Who the fuck is shooting an AK in the bar?!" It irritated him enough that he dropped his cheeseburger back onto his plate and reached for the .45 AE he kept on his belt; this wouldn't have been the first time he was shot at in here.