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Mark, the Unremarkable

Do I know you from somewhere..?

0 · 590 views · located in Wing City Gardens (East)

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Jerico Do'Lantul

Description

Standing at about 5'10", he is of average height. Everything about him seems remarkably unremarkable, to the point where one might question whether or not he was a person, at all..
As of the Lt. "Ironhand" Straken character arc, he has changed his appearence. He now wears his hair shorter, and wears more rugged, military-style clothing.
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Personality

Real name Mark Sellers, but rarely, if ever, uses this name. Instead, he goes by a variety of fake names, sometimes using as many as three in a single outing. In spite of all appearences, Mark carries with him a dark secret that only a few in the entire multiverse know; Mark is an assassin. One of the best, in reality, in the fact that he has never been caught in all of his many years of activity. This may be due, in part, to the fact that Mark posseses a special ability unlike any other; the ability to, for lack of a better term, be unremarkable. For reasons unknown, Mark's face is just the perfect ballence between handsome, enough so that people will trust him, and generic, to the point that one will never be able to place his name with his face. This goes beyond an ordinary play on the fickle minds of sentient beings, however. It doesn't matter if you're the most intelligent, memory-bound individual in the entire multiverse. You will never remember Mark's face. Even within moments of losing sight of Mark, many have reported being unable to pick him out of the crowd.Even in pictures, Mark will be unrecogniseable. In a side-by-side comparrison, it MAY be possible to identify him, but this would be a stretch. It is highly suspected that Mark has some innate ability to make his face change, over time, enough to where one would never know it was him. This is a fallacy. In truth, it is the person's mind, itself, which plays tricks. The contours of his face trigger no residual memories to be stored in one's brain, meaning that no memories will be triggered by simply seeing his face. The only way that one is able to remember Mark is if he reminds them of the name he gave them.

An example is the only way to aptly explain.

Suppose Mark comes across and attractive woman. They strike up a conversation, in which Mark introduces himself as "Steven". One he and the woman part ways, all memories of Mark's face will leave her mind, and she will, ultimately, forget him. Now, let's say they meet, again, the next day. The woman's brain will struggle to place Mark's face with past events, but, because Mark's face doesn't trigger residual memories, she will fail to remember him or anything they shared the previous day. However, if Mark reminds her of the name that he gave the previous day, "Steven", her mind will be able to compensate from having no memory of his face and will, instead, work off of the name. Only through this method are people able to remember Mark.

There is, however, one exception.

If Mark were to, for whatever reason, give one his true name, this ability becomes moot. Knowing Mark's true name makes one able to remember Mark's face, because he is being genuine, for a change. Once he had given his true name, he will be fully open and honest with that person, to whatever end. Even after Mark leaves, his face will remain in that person's memories. There is no going back from this, once it has been set into motion. As of yet, only four people have ever known Mark's true name. His parents, sister, and his employer. His parents are dead, and his sister's whereabouts remain unknown. His employer, name unknown, works descretely as he commands thousands of assassins all across the multiverse.

Equipment

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Carries a Sig Sauer 226 at all times, but will not use it unless absolutely neccesary. Ussually tucked into the back of his pants, though he will, occasionally, wear a holster on his leg. This will, usually, only be when on the job.

NOTE: As a result of several run-in's with men and women of the vampiric persuasion, he has seen fit to carry custom-made silver bullets on his person, at all times. The base and tips of these rounds are standard lead composition, but the outermost layer is silver, which is enough to cause great harm to most any vampire.

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A hidden blade is worn beneath the sleeve of his left arm.

NOTE: as a result of several run-in's with men and women of the vampiric persuasion, he has added silver engravings to the flat sides of the blade. Though the edges are still hardened steel, once the blade enters a vampires body, so too, will the silver, which will serve to cause great damage to most any vampire.

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Small, balenced throwing knives, usually worn strapped around his chest. Accessible by unbuttoning one of the middle buttons of his shirt. Not visible from without.

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Flies a ship know as The Resonance. It is a long-range fighter modified to withstand Slipspace travel. It's cargo bay was filled with the core needed to power the Slipspace Drivers, making it rather heavy and cumbersome. It is primarily used as a means of travel, and not as an actuall fighter, as it was originally intended. Seats two people, the pilot and the gunner/bomber, though there is never a payload onboard, any longer.

History

Not much is known of Mark Sellers. Everything one might glean from a conversation with him has been forgotten mere moments later. it is common knowledge, however, that he works for a man who command several thousand assassins all across the Multiverse. It is said that he has sent one of his best to Wing City to complete an unknown task. Mark Sellers is that man, and will stop at nothing untill his task is complete.

So begins...

Mark, the Unremarkable's Story

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*was here

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Mark, the Unremarkable turns his head to look at her, for a moment. He wondered, for a moment, what her game was. Was she being genuine, or was there something else to her demeanor. For as many years as he had put on an act to get what he wanted, Mark had a hard time trusting anyone. He knew, firsthand, how devious and underhanded people could be. He returns his attentions to his rifle as Merceigh looks around. "I hope to learn all that I can, so that I can be of greater use." He pauses for a moment before turning deliberately towards her. "Is there anything that you'd be willing to teach me, Miss Gabriel?"

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Mark, the Unremarkable does his best not to betray his own thoughts. "I don't mean to seem ingenuine, Miss Gabriel.. I'm only here to help in any way that I can. If you're willing, I'm willing to learn anything you have to teach me. Anything I could use to better do my duties.. if you knwo what I mean." Her gaze disconcerted him, to say the least, and he would let this show, somewhat. After all, any Private would feel the same, coming under scrutiny by a Captain.

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*know

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Mark, the Unremarkable lays his rifle on the table as he turns around, fully, to face her. "I've learned all about different methods for treating various wounds.. mostly, it's just preventative stuff. How to splint up limbs, how to stop profuse bleeding.. severed limbs, things like that. I also took specialized training to learn about different kinds of medicinal herbs, and how to apply them, should I or my unit be stranded without supplies.. that came in handy more then a few times.." All in all, there were hundreds of herbs that could be used in place of conventional medical supplies. Most were common enough, while others were harder to find. All of them, though, could be used to treat a variety of common ailments.

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Mark, the Unremarkable nods his head humbly. "Thank you, Miss Gabriel.." He pretends to hesitate. "If I may be so bold.. could I ask why the General sought to kill you when you two first met?"

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Mark, the Unremarkable decides to press the issue, as dangerous as it was. "That doesn't seem right, to me. I never knew Straken to be so.. erratic. Why, then, would he attempt suicide? Is he.." He pretends to think about what to say. "Unballenced?"

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Mark, the Unremarkable blinks as he stratches his head in a mock show of blatent confusion. "But.. he's a General.. he maintains command, even though he-" He stops, abruptly, as Straken walks up on them. Oh, fuck. He salutes, crisply, actually surprised by Strakens's sudden arrival. "S-Sir!"

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I have to get going. It's been a pleause, and I look forward to continueing, later. For now, uhh.. Mark goes to the bathroom, after which point he dissappears.

The setting changes from Eastern Wing City to Gambit's Bar

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Mark, the Unremarkable comes in through the front entrance, pushing the heavy door open silently as his eyes travel around the bar. It didn't seem as though anyone he knew was present. He steps fully into the room, shutting the door behind him without so much as a sound. To any who may have seen Mark before, his face would seem only the tiniest bit familiar. For whatever reason, however, they would be unable to place where they might have seen him before, nor would they even be able to guess at what his name is. He could as well be a total stranger.

So many people. Mark never liked large gatherings of people. However.. Many mouths means, among other things, many different potential sources of information. Without hardly a second look at anyone, he would make his way, casually, to the back bar counter, plopping down in a seat, alone, as he pretends to peruse on of the menus. All the while, his ears would remains open for any slips of the tongue on the goings-on's around Wing City.

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Mark, the Unremarkable orders a light ale. In all honesty, he preferred whiskey. However, whiskey was less common then a light ale. Anything that was deemed too far outside the norm, anything that could cast even the slightest shroud of doubt that Mark was anything more than an ordinary person being about his business.. was just plain unacceptable. Should anyone see him order a whiskey on the rocks, as he liked it, twice, they could put two and two together, eventually. A light ale, though.. now, that was a common man's drink. He could order it till his liver failed him, and not raise a single eyebrow. All the better to go unnoticed. He mulls over recent events as he takes a small sip of the ale. Meh.. The bar had gone quiet, leaving him alone with his thoughts, for now. He knew, though, that it was only a matter of time.. Gambit's never stayed quiet, for long.

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Mark, the Unremarkable turns his head towards the woman as she shambles closer, detecting her presence long before she closes the distance between them. He watches out of the corner of his eye as she approaches, taking note of her.. deformities. She was quite unusual, to say the least, her appearance very much unlike the other patrons. As she draws near and speaks to him, the facade kicks in. Mark turns his head fully, a mock look of mild surprise at her 'sudden arrival' "Hmm? Oh, good evening, miss." He smiles warmly. "It's just a bit of light ale. I'm not in much of a mood for anything else, you see." What was her deal, anyway? Just mozzying on over here, asking about his drink..

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Canti's Diner

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Mark, the Unremarkable comes in through the front entrance, his gaze travelling all round the diner as he does. This place was certainly a breath of fresh air from Gambit's. At least, here, there was more of a friendly environment. Perhaps this dump of a town wasn't quite so.. dumpy. At least, it wasn't like that, all over. He steps fully into the room, allowing the door to come closed quietly behind him, so as to not draw too much attention to himself. There were three people nearby, that he could see. One was a man whom he had never seen, or had never noticed before, and wore a ridiculous-looking suit of armor that couldn't be comfortable, in this setting. The second was a woman he had only seen once before. She always pretended to be so dainty and lady-like, but he could tell, by the look of her, that she was stronger than she seemed. The third he had only met, briefly. T'was the woman who had asked him of his drink, the night before. Then, he had not the time to speak with her, or to even give her a name, albeit a false one. Being the case, there was no way that she would be able to recognize his face, now. Confident of this fact, he makes his way, casually, to a nearby table, where he seats himself quietly, pretending to eye the menu laid out, there, all the while listening intently to his surroundings.

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Mark, the Unremarkable continues to listen as he stares unseeing at the menu. They hadn't said anything of consequence, so far. Nothing that he could use, at any rate. This venture could prove to be nothing but a waste of time. Even so, he would see it through, to the end. Besides, it would be too suspicious if he were to leave, now, having not ordered anything to eat or drink. Be that as it may, he would continue to sit and stare in silence. He figures he has a little more than a minute or two before he had to order anything.

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Mark, the Unremarkable frowned, slightly. To anyone watching him, he would appear to have found something odd on the menu. The reality was the situation playing out at the other table. A meeting just after sunset, huh? And just what could that be about? Whatever these two's relationship, it seemed clear that it was under strain, for one reason, or another. The third member, Patricia Mikhail, seemed, more or less, oblivious to this as she looked between the two. To be honest, he had noticed that she seemed a bit.. unstable, when they first met. Now, however, she was completely out of her element.. whatever that element was. Snapping back to reality, he would order a common brown beer, to start with, as well as some garlic bread. He sits calmly and quietly as he seems to stare off into space.

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Mark, the Unremarkable immediately looks up as several of the kitchen staff spill out into the diner, hysterical. Well, wonderful. Even here, here was no shortage of chaos. He sighs quietly as he resists the urge to draw his Sig from the back of his pants. Instead, he tries, in vain, to query a passing staff member. "Excuse me, sir, what's going on back there?" The man, however, seems to preoccupied by fleeing for his life, and only shouts incoherently in another language. Mark sighs as he returns his gaze to the door into the kitchen. So long as there was no threat to himself, there was no reason for him to get involved. He chances a glance over at the other two still at the table.

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*here, there was

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Mark, the Unremarkable watches as Christopher Redway returns to the dining area. He seemed to have calmed down, but his display would, no doubt, influence one or more of the kitchen staff to try and rouse the local authority, should there be any. So far, he hadn't seen so much as a parking meter maid, but that didn't always mean there wasn't some kind of police force. He watched and waited as the man offered apologies. He wondered if such formalities would be visited upon the staff. Probably not.

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Mark, the Unremarkable notes quickly upon how Fleur moves, her movements fluid and elegant. Perhaps too elegant. She seemed utterly befuddled by the man's words, however, as she offered no reply. Patricia, meanwhile, seemed to be finding her voice. He wondered, though, just what was going through the man's head. To challenge someone out of the blue to a duel simply because his feelings had been hurt. Honor and pride had no place when one was out of their own element. Wing City had been home to creatures and people from a plethora of worlds, all of which followed it's own laws and creeds. He had learned, within the first few days of coming here, that he would have to put up with a lot of different types of people if he was to have any hope of blending in and getting what he sought without claiming too many lives in the process. Still, to each their own. It was of no concern of his how the 'knight' went about doing things.

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Mark, the Unremarkable 's writer notes that his character has been blatantly watching their table for almost five full minutes, in their time.

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Mark, the Unremarkable honestly hadn't meant to stare for as long as he did. He would snap back to his senses as he is addressed, turning to look directly at Fleur as he tilts his head up, slightly, his eyebrows raised in mock confusion. "Hm? Oh! I apologize, miss. I did not mean to stare. In all the commotion, I just.. well, I suppose I lost track of where I was looking." He smiles warmly before bowing his head, slightly. "Forgive me."

The setting changes from Canti's Diner to Terra

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Mark, the Unremarkable steps out from his private quarters, still in the process of fitting on his uniform. His eyes move around, constantly, ever wary of his surroundings. Ever since he had offed that sergeant, he had felt that he was under watch. But, then, that wouldn't make much sence. No one would be able to recognise him the minute they lost sight of him, and even on camera, no one would know who he was. Still, it neer hurt to be carefull. He fits on his helmet, mic active, as he heads down the hall towards his assigned duty for the day. Hopefully, he would manage to find some excuse to report in to Straken. He felt closer and closer, each day, to finding his moment of opportunity. Little did he know that his golden moment.. was quickly passing him by.

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*never hurt

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Mark, the Unremarkable pushes open the double doors leading to the parada square. Even as he does, Merceigh would walk out, herself. He quickly double times it behind her, to fall in step by a few yards away. He would follow her for a moment or two. She seemed aggravated, displayed by her quickened pace. Her body language, too, showed that she was quite frustrated with something. Clearing his throat, he would put on the act of innocent ignorance. "Sir! Captain Gabriel!" He would then speed up to walk just behind her, off to one side. "Ma'am, am I supposed to be reporting to you or.."

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*double time's