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Steven Lindemann

0 · 256 views · located in Fort Veritas

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Tank Emperor

Groups

A Nation built from war, owning a galaxy well out the way of the goings on in the multiverse.

Description

PHYSICAL SPECS

Species: Human
Race: Human
Blood Father: Unknown
Blood Mother: Unknown
Physical Age: 15
Physical Gender: Male

Hair Colour(s): Black
Hair Texture: Smooth
Hair Length / Cut: Cropped
Eyebrows: Black
Body Hair: "I'm not telling you that!"
Body Hair Colour(s): "I told you about my body!"
Skin Tone(s): Pale
Iris Colour(s): Blue
Pupil Colour(s): Black
Teeth: All adult teeth
Tooth Colour: Whitish

Body Type: Slim
Height: 5'10''
Weight: "Get to fuck, asking me that!"
Cup Size: "I don't have tits!"
Shoe Size: 8UK

Voice: Slight 'monotone' according to people in the same school.
Coordination: Good
Reflexes: Average
Physical Strength: Unknown

Scars / Deformities: A few self harm around the wrists and on the chest
Diseases / Conditions: Possible Autism
Medications: "Personal Info. You ain't getting any."
Addictions / Dependencies: Needs hugs and a computer
Glasses/Contacts: None
Piercings: "I've always wanted angel bites..."
Tattoos: "I want a dragon on my back."
Makeup: None
Fashion Sense: Doesn't have one.

PERSONALITY

Mental Age: 4/16
Mental Gender: Male

Phobias: Spiders, losting phone or iPod

Sociability: 25-45%
Outlook: Doesn't have a bright one at times.
Activity: 50%
Adventurousness: 40%
Predictability: 01%
Responsibility: 75%
Tidiness: 30%
Cleanliness: 90%
Emotionality: 80%
Generousity: 66%
Manners: 70%
Bravery: 40%

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Emotional Position: Weak
Physical Position: Weak
Partnering: Can get it right.
Ideal Partner(s): Marilyn Manson, Cait W

Hobbies/Interests: Roleplaying, programming, painting, not eating, texting, watching people.

Favorite Colour: Blue
Favorite Season: Summer
Favorite Animal: "I like bunnies... Hm... Bunnies..."
Favorite Foods: Noodles
Favorite Word: Idiot
Favorite Song: Coma White
Favorite Musical Artist / Group: Marilyn Mason, My Chemical Romance
Favorite Musical Genre(s): Gothic/Metal/Punk/Rock
Favorite TV Show: None
Favorite TV Genre(s): None
Favorite Movie: Star Wars
Favorite Movie Genre(s): Sci Fi
Favorite Book: Unknown
Favorite Literary Genre(s): Sci Fi

Greatest Hope: To become a internet site programmer
Greatest Strength: His mind to think of others movements
Greatest Weakness: His friends
Worst Nightmare: Please ask the character
Recurring Dreams: Please ask the character
Deepest Darkest Secret: "I ain't telling you that!"
Most Treasured Memory: Unknown
Most Valued Posession: His computer/phone/iPod
Theme Song(s): "The Wold is Ugly" My Chemical Romance

HISTORY

Nationality: German
Place of Birth: Berlin
Date of Birth: 10/5/1997
Economic Background: Unknown

Father(s): Unknown
Mother (s): Unknown
Sibling(s): Unknown
Significant Other: Cait W
Marital Status: Dating
Children: None.

Occupation: None
Income Level: None
Life Savings: None
Credit Rating: None

Residence: Gambit's bar
Transportation: "I use my feet."
Cell Phone: Blackberry 9300
Computer: Hand build computer. Desk top

So begins...

Steven Lindemann's Story

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Steven Lindemann slowly woke up from his spot upstairs. He padded down before he sat near the fire, trying to head up. Damn Social Work. Damn Earth. No wonder it all went wrong. The damn family.

He groaned, pulling out his Blackberry and loaded it up to check a few things.

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Wing City Gardens (South)

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swallowed as he sat down by the water, playing with a little toy rabbit he got as a young child. He looked around, spotting creatures he didn't know but knew something just wasn't right. Sniffling, he shut his eyes, picking at the grass where he lay.

Could it be possible? That he was in the place he once roleplayed in on a site. He couldn't remember the site's name but could remember the way he imagioned

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Steven Lindemann swallowed as he sat down by the water, playing with a little toy rabbit he got as a young child. He looked around, spotting creatures he didn't know but knew something just wasn't right. Sniffling, he shut his eyes, picking at the grass where he lay.

Could it be possible? That he was in the place he once roleplayed in on a site. He couldn't remember the site's name but could remember the way he imagined seemed to be what this place was.
He sniffled once more putting his feet in the water, thinking about things that only he would seem to think about. He had been here for a few days but had already found it cold, scary and lonely.

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"I don't know where I am..." He whimpered, hugging himself as he looked at her. "I really don't know. I... I must be imagining things again..."

He whimpered, holding onto the little teddy bunny rabbit, rocking himself back and forwards. He sniffled before shutting his eyes in pain, remembering about a character like her. "Nadja Carali?"

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Steven swallowed looking up at her. "I don't know. All I remember is an internet roleplay site where someone called Savi...arre had someone like you. The picture looks like your face."

He swallowed, "I remember this place. People, government people where here."

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"No. I'm not on drugs. The internet is like a big place where people meet up on computers. Billions of people use the internet. You seem too uncivilized to understand." He sighed, rubbing his face as he looked back to the water. "No one believes me. They don't understand."

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He swallowed, "There is the internet. And on this internet you have groups, called sites. On a certain site called roleplaygateway.com, there is a roleplayer that has a character, just like you. The picture is the same as your face. Because I roleplayed with this person who played you, I know your face."

He sighed, still looking out to the water, thinking about people back home, a few good friends on the site. Well, he thought them as friends but couldn't be sure.

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He swallowed, the last person that asked him that tried to kill him. "Steven... Lindemann." He swallowed again, picking at the grass. He sniffed the bluish coloured grass and decided it smelt like paint.

Shaking his head he put the bunny toy down and rubbed his legs. He was technically German but came from Scotland. "Erm... Earth?"

The setting changes from wing-city-gardens-south to Cafe Sonata

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Steven swallowed, watching the robot put down the double skinny latte on the table. He had set up his computer, along with three hard drives, two keyboards and two mice. He sighed, typing into one keyboard with one hand as the computer could work three screens on different display units. He had basically three monitors and took up the whole back table, away from the windows and the people. He rubbed his Cybran Tattoo as he continued typing with one hand.

With enough money he would get to the Cybran Nation but for now it just had to be done over Multi Mail, a sort of Internet the Cybrans set up. They had an engineer build and webgate in a building so the Terrans would ever notice.

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He looked up from the computers, his hand red. "What? Is a fifteen year old not allowed to work for his life? Work with people that could kill you with a shot from the other side of the world?" He snapped, coughing afterwards as he looked back to his computer, Marilyn Manson blasting from the headphones linked into the one that he didn't seem to touch, it was the latest Cybran Tech, thought computers.

His left hand lifted the double latte before he sipped it softly, What does this woman want? Where's those damn agents? Rooseavet said they would meet me here.

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He should his head, coughing before sipping the Latte again, "What fifteen year old do you know that drink double latte with four shots of coffee and two sugars, one packet of salt? Hm?" He snapped before looking back to the computer, typing with one hand on last line before he clicked on the mouse, the message sent. He sighed, looking around before wiping his face clean of the milk on the latte. He had no time for this woman but didn't want to cause a panic so didn't put his hand towards the Cybran Pistol.

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He shook his head, "Nope, don't need it. I have all the money that I need from my own people. Money like you are nothing compared to the worth of me and my work. I need nothing from you. I only need this Latte then I am off to work again. Don't tempt me into killing people."

He coughed, before looking at the woman's nose, making it seem to her like it was eye contact, something he just couldn't stand.

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He smirked, "PhD in Cybran Multiweb Computing, completed it in one year, I don't need school. And girls well, I don't give a damn about relationships with anyone anymore. Its all about the money, the weapons, the war."

He was insulted that she would think that he should be in school, be doing homework, be doing girls. He pulled up his sleeve to rub his tattoo, the Cybran Three point Star. As he did, he cracked his neck and put the pistol on the table. He sipped the Latte again before he started to type like it was all that mattered. He had said enough.

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He looked up at her, "Stop trying to sell me drugs. Right. Stop. If that's what you want to do, I might just as well shoot you right now. Yes, I'm happy with my work." He snapped, downing the Latte before he started to type quickly again. There was a mass of things that needed done for Rooseavet and he didn't like sending the things late.

When will this woman stop? It's a pain now. Argh. I should just shoot her. Do I have time to pack my things though before the police appear? No.

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At her drone of words, he simply just blocked her out and started to hold the bridge of his nose, typing with one hand, "Yet she thinks of me as a spy. From the movie Spy Kids."

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Code, code and more code.

That was all the the young Computer hacker and Cybran Programmer, Steven Lindemann could see at three o'clock in the morning. He sat in the back of the cafe, away from all the people and the windows. His face showing a few scars of childhood but apart from that he kept his face hidden under his black hair which was unnaturally long for a Cybran spy.

Sighing, he started to picture another galaxy under the wrath of the Cybran Emperor, another area for the Cybran Military to watch over. The resources, the manpower, the killing of anyone that tried to resist. The medals he would get for his work, along with the medals he already had. At the age of fifteen it seemed strange to everyone else that he had the Cybran version of a PhD for his work and a number of the top Cybran Universities wanting him to come back to work for them. He had all the money he would need plus more.

He sighed, setting up his computers with his Hioka VS-924 semi-automatic pistol.

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From the lines of code he turned, looking at the man, hearing him only just over the mast drums of some Rammstein, a band he had picked up over the few months of appearing on the planet. He coughed, his free hand going to his pistol, unsure of who this man was and what he was going to do. He was a computer genius, not someone that is good with people.

"Nothing to do with me, so it doesn't matter. This planet won't matter soon once they arrive here. There will be no mercy, there will be not battle, the Terra Government will collapse, believe me, I have seen it happen before on the planet Poria Four." He smirked before turning back to his lines of code and typing in with speed and fury, seeming to batter the keyboard. Lines from all three machines flickered pon and off with a small red counter counting down.

A waiter walked over and set down the double Latte with three shots, two sugars and one teaspoon of salt, just the way they served it back home.

The setting changes from cafe-sonata to Gambit's Bar

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He had sat down a few hours ago but was too busy writing new programming scripts, he had lost the whole idea of time. He was the only Cybran on Terra, a spy without people knowing. He had passed in his university degree at the age of ten Cybran Standard years, but he was genetically modified by the great Cybran Professor in Biology, or 'Hwoska' which was what the Cybrans called it. He sat blasting Rammstein, which seemed to be the only Cybran Lyrics, German is what those damned humans called it.

He shut his eyes before looking up to find the bar empty, like always at this time of day. There was a point of time of which he turned off or tuned out of the happenings of the bar. The place could have been stuck up yet he wouldn't notice. He very own programming was designed for that anyway. He could view any files he wanted using his own server that he would set up. The damned Humans had attempted to hack him but he was 'unhackable'...

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Cafe Sonata

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Character Portrait: Austin Marshal Character Portrait: Steven Lindemann
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Code, code and more code.

That was all the the young Computer hacker and Cybran Programmer, Steven Lindemann could see at three o'clock in the morning. He sat in the back of the cafe, away from all the people and the windows. His face showing a few scars of childhood but apart from that he kept his face hidden under his black hair which was unnaturally long for a Cybran spy.

Sighing, he started to picture another galaxy under the wrath of the Cybran Emperor, another area for the Cybran Military to watch over. The resources, the manpower, the killing of anyone that tried to resist. The medals he would get for his work, along with the medals he already had. At the age of fifteen it seemed strange to everyone else that he had the Cybran version of a PhD for his work and a number of the top Cybran Universities wanting him to come back to work for them. He had all the money he would need plus more.

He sighed, setting up his computers with his Hioka VS-924 semi-automatic pistol.

A quiet bell rang as the door opened, alerting the staff as another customer entered the diner. He was dressed in a dark overcoat to ward off the winter chill, a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. He walked slowly up to the diner, smiling at a waitress on the other side of the counter.

"Coffee, please. Black." He assumed a seat on one of the stools, taking a newspaper out from beneath his arm and laying it down on the woodwork countertop. 'GOVERNMENT CENTER ATTACKED' the headline read. 'PRIME MINISTER DEAD'.

From the lines of code he turned, looking at the man, hearing him only just over the mast drums of some Rammstein, a band he had picked up over the few months of appearing on the planet. He coughed, his free hand going to his pistol, unsure of who this man was and what he was going to do. He was a computer genius, not someone that is good with people.

"Nothing to do with me, so it doesn't matter. This planet won't matter soon once they arrive here. There will be no mercy, there will be not battle, the Terra Government will collapse, believe me, I have seen it happen before on the planet Poria Four." He smirked before turning back to his lines of code and typing in with speed and fury, seeming to batter the keyboard. Lines from all three machines flickered pon and off with a small red counter counting down.

A waiter walked over and set down the double Latte with three shots, two sugars and one teaspoon of salt, just the way they served it back home.

The stranger whistled. His eyes still on his paper, he spoke from across the room at Steven. "Crazy world we live in, huh friend?" He clicked his tongue. "Politicians gunned down in broad daylight."

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#, as written by Nemo
From the lines of code he turned, looking at the man, hearing him only just over the mast drums of some Rammstein, a band he had picked up over the few months of appearing on the planet. He coughed, his free hand going to his pistol, unsure of who this man was and what he was going to do. He was a computer genius, not someone that is good with people.

"Nothing to do with me, so it doesn't matter. This planet won't matter soon once they arrive here. There will be no mercy, there will be not battle, the Terra Government will collapse, believe me, I have seen it happen before on the planet Poria Four." He smirked before turning back to his lines of code and typing in with speed and fury, seeming to batter the keyboard. Lines from all three machines flickered pon and off with a small red counter counting down.

A waiter walked over and set down the double Latte with three shots, two sugars and one teaspoon of salt, just the way they served it back home.

"Sounds like you know from experience," the stranger perked a curious brow, walking over to Steven slowly, "what, you an alien or something? Come from outside of Terra?" He sipped at a mug of hot tea in his hands. "And who's 'they'? The Aschen? The boogeymen? You gotta' understand, friend, there's a laundry list of baddies trying to take over Terra on any given day of the week."

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Character Portrait: Austin Marshal Character Portrait: Steven Lindemann
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Steven looked over at him and smirked, "No, those are just your Nightmares when you have not understood the true meaning of another Nation. The Nation which in myths is called the sleeping Giant, the Nation which was started on this very planet more than eight thousand years ago. When you type did not even have an understanding of the simple rotation of the stars." He smiled softly and turned back to his machines, his pistol in one hand under his trench coat with the single marking of the Cybran Nation, the Nation which had not been seen in this Galaxy in the last seven thousand years. "You can not understand the workings of any other Nation without implanting agents to send reports back home."

He lifted his coffee with his free hand, sipping it slowly, getting the sweet taste before the bitter taste of the salt kicked in, "Still not as good as back home. They will soon be here, a force capable of destroying every single planet in this galaxy. Oh, the weaponry it holds. All thanks to the great Admiral Gorshkov, it will not be long until they arrive." His eyes moved back to the sweet computer magic that his head was doing with the computer, unlocking the Terran Database with just his brain. "Your security sucks on your database, Austin Marshal."

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Character Portrait: Austin Marshal Character Portrait: Steven Lindemann
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#, as written by Nemo
To his credit, Austin kept his composure and cool and Steven effortlessly hacked into what was supposed to be a very secure TIB archive.

"Hey, we found you, didn't we?" the agent shrugged, "a Cybran spy. Sitting right here in front of me. In a cafe." He chuckled warmly to himself. "Oh what to do... what to do... ah! I've got it." The agent slipped into the booth opposite of Steven. "How about you and I get up reeealll slowly. You'll lie on the ground, cross your ankles and put your hands behind your head. You're under arrest for infiltrating classified TNG documentation and jeopardizing government information.." He cocked his head curiously. "...does that compute, data-head? Or do I need to re-calibrate your brain with my fist?"

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He smirked, carefully lifting the pistol from under the table, with a smirk, "You can not kill me, unless you open me up. And now, you don't have the keys or the codes." He laughed to himself, "You have no clue what is coming for this planet, and can still hack you with this computers, I can still send information with out this. I am a computer."

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Character Portrait: Austin Marshal Character Portrait: Steven Lindemann
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Steven grinned, "You think that will work? You have no clue what is coming to his little planet, your data bases are easy to hack, every single last one of them, even a child could hack into them with ease." He smirked, "And no, I will not move. You do not understand my mission, or my aim, yet you think you do. All your computers have been hacked for information you are hiding from your people."

His eyes glanced around, a few nodding in agreement, "You are surrounded by Cybrans, Austin, you should give in."

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#, as written by Nemo
Austin only rolled his eyes, clearly not taking the spy's threat seriously.

"You're not a computer. You're a goddamn computer GEEK. A human being. A human being that I'M bringing in," the agent stood up quickly, walking around to the man and attempting to lay hands on him. "You're under arrest by the authority of the Terran National Government. Get up." With his right hand, Austin unholstered his Gauss pistol. With his left, he forcefully attempted to make Steven rise.