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Pandemic

Terrorist.

0 · 324 views · located in Verinotte Square

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

Groups

A coalation of Endangered species...gone terrorist.

Description

Physical Description
Image

Appearance
Hair: Red
Eyes: Green
Skin Tone: Tanish, white.
Body type: Muscular

Unique Features: Set of specially crafted arms- usually skin tone, but formed from a semi-liquid metal.

Name
Unknown.

Nickname(s)
Pandemic

Race
Unknown

Visual Age
Late 20s to Low 30s

Factual Age
Unknown


Gender
Male


Sexual Orientation
Unknown

PERSONALITY

Personality Description
Cool, calm. One would think Pandemic a fitting business man, his way of talking draws in an audience, wrapping them in whatever he wishes. To the outside world he appears an intelligent and well spoken gentleman- inside he is rotten. A monster.


Quirks
-High I.Q.
-Problem with authority.
-Charismatic.

Fears
-Though he will never admit it he has a nagging fear of losing his mind, losing his edge. He fears the ravages of age that could one day tear away his keen brain.

Goal
Terror. The primary mission is to bring the galaxy to it's knees in terror.

Strengths
-Force of Will.
-Self Preservation.
-Silver tongue.
-Savant I.Q.

Weaknesses
-Anger issues.
-Trouble blending in.
-Relies on his team more than he would like.

EQUIPMENT

Abilities & Skill & Combat Rating


Clothing/Armor
A simple pressed suit. Expensive looking, and nice.

Combat Prowess
Even out of his suit he is a master of several forms of armed and unarmed combat- most learned while captive on various planetary prisons. A brutal and efficient fighter he is not one to ignore a weakness or blind-spot.

Abilities
Unknown. Pandemic is a private person. He has shown resistance to Psi based attempts and survived conditions that would have left a lesser man as ashes. It is unknown what he is able to do.

Skills
Command: His orders have a way of not being ignored, even those not in his group find themselves reacting to his tone.
Timing: Years of watching body movements and living in the darkest prisons have granted him perfect timing in combat- what one moment looks like an opening the next is revealed to be a clever trap.
Luck: Inhumanly lucky, it is almost as if he is touched by the Fates- Money is found, problems solved through outside forces, he is never sick and has a strange way of always being in just the right place at the right time.

Augmentations/Mutations
Borg-Tech: A successful hit that doesn't kill him negates the next same attack preformed later. A sub-dermal implant, a learning shield system. Has a memory of two hours.
Crima Claws: FRom the shoulder down his arms have been replaced with a form of semi-liquid metal. Controlled through neural implants and able to form any melee weapon that comes to mind. Able to harden.
Guyver- Bio-Boosting power armor. Stored within the body.
Legion- A mass of symbiotes, cloned and injected into Pandemic. Carnage, Venom, Scorn, Lasher, Phage, Mayhem, Payback, Agony and a few unknown.

Stats (40 pts max; 1-3 normal human, 4-6 enhanced 7-10 superhuman)
STRENGTH: 8
WILLPOWER: 7
AGILITY: 6
DEXTERITY: 4
TOUGHNESS: 5
INTELLIGENCE: 10


HISTORY


Bio/History
WIP

So begins...

Pandemic's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
A swarthy man in a light grey business suit wandered into the area, his neatly cropped red hair spiked slightly with gel. A pair of expensive sunglasses kept the light from bothering his eyes much, but they had an added feature- perfectly controllable HUD layered over his real-time sight. With these he tracked movements, the gathering at the auction and the stragglers moving away, either bored or broke. This place would do fine. "Dorortea, bring in the package." he muttered into his Vox-Caster.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge
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#, as written by Edelle
Cyril squinted at the shield and pursed his lips. It was too nice to pass up. He'd been drawn in by the polished surface, the way light glinted off of it.
"Seven 'undred!" He said boldly, running his hands through his blond mohawk. He patted his back pocket for his wallet, money likely wouldn't be an issue for a while, as long as the price didn't get too high. "Then again," he thought, "I could just steal it."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
A school bus pulls into view, stopping at a designated Drop Off Zone. In moments there are about a dozen little kids pouring off, each wearing a backpack and holding a lunch box. No one would remember those facts though, except maybe the police or fire department workers who had to sift though rubble later. They would have a hard time forgetting. It was the small details that were the worst. The kids moved to the crosswalk and waited, as the crossing guard picked up her little stop sign and whistle- Dorotea sent a wink at Pandemic as she began to usher children across the street.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eliott Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge
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#, as written by Rulke
Laughing he watched on in amusement, "Seven hundred from the lovely mohawked gentleman. Do I hear eight hundred, eight hundred and I can tell you are getting practically a steal. In fact I dare say, you could sell this very piece for a sizable sum to any museum in Wing City. So eight hundred, eight hundred go on make it worth your while, drag out the wallets and lets see that cash."

Someone from the front raised their hand yelling, "Eight hundred and fifty, I would like the piece for my art gallery and that lout their will probably sell it for drinking or drug money. So what you say, we end this here?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
"Leave corpses and questions. I want this on news papers" he smiled, and turned on his heel, wandering off. He had the utmost confidence in Dorotea's abilities. Her attack on Gambit's had claimed a few lives, and spread anti-inhuman thoughts deeper into the masses. This was just the next step. "A shame about the auction, they had some nice baubles..."

His HUD changed, an countdown had begun.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eliott Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge
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#, as written by Rulke
With sheer delight he surveyed the scene and continued to play them all, "Nine hundred and fifty from the mohawk gentleman once more, wow I think this has become personal. Do we hear one thousand, one thousand I am sure so many of you could join in and get this wonderful piece of ancient Greco equipment and apparently forged by Hephaestus himself for the King of the Olympus, do I hear one thousand or am I breaking your banks." he sneered.

The man turned to the mohawk gentleman, and sighed, "Very well lout, I say make Fifteen hundred and I will be sure to speak highly of you to my high class friends. What you say auctioneer?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eliott Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge
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#, as written by Edelle
Standing rigidly, he crossed his arms. "Ohhh that is-" Cyril fumed, clenching his jaw, "Seventeen 'undred! And yeh can tell yer high class wankers that I'm not a bleedin' LOUT!" He was determined now, price be damned. Once something like this caught his eye, it would generally come to blows if he couldn't have it.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge
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#, as written by Grahf
He paused, about a block and a half away- yet still watching through the eyes of his agent- "Fuck the timer. Kill switch, I want the high score..that guy with the high bid must be important. You know the drill..max damage. Go for the nuts and make the country cry." Pandemic smiled, bought a flower from a vendor and resumed walking along.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
She got the order, and nodded. It was time. No one noticed when the woman walked away- because to the naked eye she was still there. The illusion stood, holding the sign, and gesturing for the kids to cross. All anyone would see was a new child skipping off into the distance. She would easily pass the group, and duck into an alley...

At that moment one of the children tugged at her mother's sleeve, tears welling up in her eyes. "The lady said it wouldn't hurt..but it's so heavy!"

Confusion, the woman knelt down and opened the girl's pack...and saw the canisters. She didn't even have time to scream as a remote trigger sets off the bombs held in each child's bag- the lunch boxes stuffed with ball bearings; this made each of the 12 children into walking claymores. Flowers of fire and blood blossom into being..flames, scraps of metal and screams fill the air as the bombs send death into the crowd.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mars Corp. Character Portrait: Luke Sullen Character Portrait: Athena Ivanova Character Portrait: Alissa Bowen Character Portrait: Sarah Locheart Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge
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#, as written by Grahf
The school bus, ignored in the chaos, sat at the curb still. Holes in the sides and a few burn marks showed where it took a few hits from the relative closeness of the children gathered. Pandemic hit the second switch and triggered the secondary charge.

From two blocks away he FELT the shockwave as the bomb loaded buss erupts into fire. This blast was meant to take out as many first responders as possible- the vehicle had been filled with 50 gallon barrels of gasoline and about one hundred pounds of C-4. The blast would be magnitudes larger than all of the smaller ones combined. Parked where it was it would have the added effect of kicking off a chain-reaction in the cars parked where drivers had abandoned them, the fuel tanks blasting each vehicle upward and sending more debris into the panic filled area.

"And that's that.." the red haired man muttered dropping the flower he had bought, moments later he would vanish into an alley way, leaving chaos in his wake. The new arrivals had chosen a bad time to come and help...

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mars Corp. Character Portrait: Luke Sullen Character Portrait: Athena Ivanova Character Portrait: Alissa Bowen Character Portrait: Sarah Locheart Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge
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Sarah's eyes went wide as she heard the second explosion go of and spun around on her heels raising a hand in front of her parrying the onslaught of fire now hurling toward her and her fire fighters, saving as many fire responders as she could with the limited time she had, "Bastard!" she shouted.

Alissa was just finishing up a bandage on a injured girl when the second bomb went off. The force threw her back into her ambulance knocking her out for a few seconds, but killed her partner. Her ears were ringing and her vision blurred as she slowly regained consciousness. "What... What happened?" she asked before realizing her partner was dead, "Damn it, and on his first day too." she slowly rose to her feet before noticing the blood pool beneath her feet trailing from a gash in her stomach, "Son of a..." before she could finish her statment she lost consciousnesses again falling back tot he ground.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mars Corp. Character Portrait: Luke Sullen Character Portrait: Athena Ivanova Character Portrait: Alissa Bowen Character Portrait: Sarah Locheart Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge
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#, as written by Marcus
The corporation ship landed and several Ronin and A-12 Alpha units stepped out onto the field of chaos. The orders were given and a perimeter was set along with some equipment as well. "Send the A-12 to search the area and secure all of Terran interests. Clean up this mess at all costs!" A man shouted as he stepped out of the ship wearing a rather strange looking armor in comparison to the others he brought with him. The A-12 Units jetted off to help with what they could by rescuing the lives of those poor civilians who were trapped while the Ronin troops followed suit in aiding in the civilian escape plans they had gone over just this morning.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mars Corp. Character Portrait: Luke Sullen Character Portrait: Athena Ivanova Character Portrait: Alissa Bowen Character Portrait: Sarah Locheart Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge
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#, as written by Rulke
Sensing the impending danger too late, Athena was thrown across, but she managed to use her body as shield for two people, unfortunately her skin was raw with burns. Growling she yelled out, "Everyone get everyone the hell out of here, we can't risk more loss of life---." a sound rung out and she stared as ships descended, sighing in relief, she walked on over to commander and said, "Thank god you're here, WCPD is not responding and we have tense situation here. I can use some of my men to construct barricades to prevent anyone getting out, but I will let you make the choice, I am at your disposable."

Saluting she waited, and sighed her eyes travelling over the sheer carnage, oh god, what had been wrought, this was horrific, and children too. She would hate to be the one who had to tell their parent's about their untimely death.

Smoke and fire everywhere, she needed more back-up her detachment had not expected a second bomb.

The setting changes from wing-city-town-square to Wing City

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic In a smart business suit and lugging a rather fancy briefcase the man seemed right at home walking along the streets of Wing City, but the truth was quite a bit darker- this man was the one responsible for the horrific bombings in Wing City Town Square the other day, though no one had any idea. His short red hair catches a breeze and he smiles, thoughts of raging fires and the screams of the burning filling his mind a moment. Today was a good day to set a fire, he thought, walking along at a slower pace. C-4 was away on his mission, the police were going to be in for a surprise, Dorotea was back in the Hollow, getting things ready for the shift. But he had the day off.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic Sitting alone on a bench, sipping some tea and looking at the changing patterns in the clouds the man let out a sigh- the small pebble in his pocket had vibrated...Cee-Fer had used his power. There would be destruction at the Police Station, and possibly trouble in the future. Alas, it would also take about a week for the hulk to regrow from the chunk in Pandemic's pocket. "Rest, grow. Soon we will need your fires again..." he muttered, patting the pocket.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic He had trailed the Descorp flunky for about twenty minutes, and finally had decided to reveal himself. Standing with his arms crossed, expensive suit pressed and freshly cleaned. His short reddish hair slicked back with some gel or mouse, whatever. He looked good, he knew it. Pandemic oozed confidence. And why wouldn't he? He was about to become a god. "You look like you need a drink. Come, we will conduct ourselves in a more comfortable setting."

He raised a hand, signaling a vehicle. It was a cross between a limo and a tank. That was the only way to describe the massive hunk of armor and tires that pulled up to the curb before the two men. A woman emerges from the rear to open the door and hold it while Pandemic climbs within, she seemed to be waiting for Marvin as well. "Thank you, Dorotea."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic Reaching into a cabin he draws out two glasses and a bottle of amber liquid, he nods towards Marvin and explains, "Thirty year old scotch, you will of course have a glass?"

He pours a measure without waiting for an answer, passing the glass to the shell shocked looking man. "Now, to business. I was informed that the package was ready. You were to bring it, and instructions on use. For this you will receive payment in the sum of thirty million dollars, as well as a contract of service signing the Loose Ends into Operation Berserker. Are these terms agreeable?"

He lifts his glass, offering a toast, a small smile on his face.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic "Subject? No. This is for me." Pandemic smiles, sipping his drink slowly. Dorotea reaches under her seat and withdraws a sizable silver briefcase, setting it on her lap before spinning it's combo out on the set dials. As the case snaps open she reveals stacks of hundred dollar bills, many stacks. "Your payment. Now, what end do I stab myself with?"

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic "You see, I already knew that. It's fine. I will be able to handle it. Im...exceptional." Pandemic smiles and reaches over to take the case, removing the injector from where Marvin had placed it. "Just like I handle the Guyver Unit I bought from you people." he grins, lifting the device to the side of his neck. Clearly revealed as he moves the collar of his dress shirt is a small diamond shaped scar- the entry point for a Guyver Bio-Booster Unit. Pandemic was an exceptional man.

Pressing the tip against his skin he winks at Marvin and tells Dorotea "He moves...kill him. I die..kill him."

The injector hisses...and Pandemics world explodes.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic He fell for what felt like forever.

Voices screamed at him. Some spoke english, most didn't. One thing that he understood from all of them however...was hunger. They wanted to eat him. He felt teeth against his flesh, he felt claws...he knew pain. He was shredded to bits over and over. For him it was an eternity of hell. It had only been about two minutes.

Laying on the floor of the car he shook as spasms of pain rocked him from the core of his being. At times he cried out hoarsely, his voice long gone from his previous screams- the things he said though all seemed to come from different beings. There was a war going on within Pandemics body and mind...

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic He awoke many hours later, covered in blood with his throat beyond raw. Spitting a mouthfull of stale blood and saliva away he weakly sits up, "What..what happened? Where did all this blood come from?"

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic He clenched his right fist, noting that he could feel..what should be metal. "I feel..odd. I can sense things, almost like a new sense...it's hard to explain. The creatures seem to have bonded to me." he shook his head slightly, testing his new sense...he could almost feel the activity in the area around the moving car.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic "Yes, go. Take your payment. I need time to adjust to my...friends. Tell your master that I thank it. Loose Ends will be ready when Descorp is." Pandemic smiles weakly and signals the driver to stop and let the other man out.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic "I need to flex my muscles. Driver, take me to The Arena." he grinned, flexing his muscles slightly, feeling the squirm within. He understood the blood now. The symbiotes had purged him of his old blood and taken up the job themselves, creating a perfect unity. "Let us go play."

The setting changes from wing-city to Dead End

Setting

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Character Portrait: Pandemic
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#, as written by Grahf
Pandemic "Firebug. Firebug. You know, I hear there was a lynch mob gearin' up to come string you up. Word on the street was a small pile of gold to whoever brought you to justice." the man stepped out of an alcove, wiping a dark fluid off of his hands with a small piece of cloth. "I say was, because I just finished eating the face of the last of your 'friends.' My name is Pandemic. I think we should talk."

He was well dressed, a suit and tie, all of a rich dark color- hard to make out due to the shadows, but it seemed to contain a slight reddish hue. Sharp features, and narrow eyes grant the stranger a hawk-like guise, making him seem predatory in some way. He carried himself as if one in total control of the situation- though he looked to be unarmed, and wearing something that seemed flammable. "Here will do, unless you are hungry."