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Verhasst

Former member of the multi-national, dimension-crossing Task Force 417. Now Ereb Alpha Trooper.

0 · 609 views · located in New Canton

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by SylentStand, as played by TheNoremac42

Groups

A galactic scale company that specializes in theoretical science research, military technology, medical technology, renewable energy, aeronautics, and various other fields.

Description

____________________
Nikolai Navka
____________________
Verhasst
____________________


Image
Art by TheNoremac42@Deviantart.com


____________________
Personal Information
____________________




Full Name:
Nikolai Navka

Description:
Verhasst is a super soldier under the employment of Gabriel Ereb and Ereb Industries. He serves as a private military officer and mercenary. Forever encased in the Ereb Nanosuit, he is a very intimidating figure.

Age:
Unknown

Gender:
Male

Race/Main:
Presumed Human

Race/Sub:
Cyborg

Honorifics|Titles|Nicknames
Verhasst, "The Hated"

Sexual Orientation:
Uninterested

Birthplace:
Chicago, Illinois
.
Date of Birth:
Unknown

Marking|Tattoos|Piercings:

Height:
6' 2"

Weight
265 lbs.

Physical Condition:
He has a muscular, athletic, and practical body fit for a soldier.

Current Residence:
Classified

Former Residence
Chicago, Illinois

Family/Relatives:
Divorced mother and father in California

Friends/Comrades:
Alpha Trooper 1st Regiment
Captain Agares Narkel
Storm-Shadow

Enemies

Rivals

Organizations/Tribes/Clans:
Ereb Industries
Ereb Alpha Troopers

Former Affiliations:
Task Force 417

Disabilities:
None

Personality:
Navka is a cold and taciturn man of great cunning and guile. A past in Army special-warfare's Cryptology section has taught him the folly of trying to reason with opponents when a desirable prospect is on the table - far better to anticipate treachery and engineer a trap beforehand. He is hesitant to trust anyone that he judges too idealistic and conversely believes that every man must have their own ulterior motive. He is always looking for ways that he might better himself, even at the expense of others.

Despite this, he is suitably at home in high-class social functions and seems able to flip on flattering manners. During these times, he manages to seem almost... human. For those he trusts as associates, he will go out of his way to assist them in whatever ways he is able. Those who get to know him personally will see the weary side of a man who's life has passed him by. He has no great love for the supernatural, viewing such beings as abhorrent offshoots of humanity who ought to be expunged from a human-dominated world.

Likes:
Acquiring money and the prestige that comes with it, contests of wits, historical firearms.

Dislikes:
Dependence on others, braggarts, logical fallacies, excessive swordplay.

Psychological Condition:
Indifferent, cold, and generally emotionless

Alignment:
Lawful Neutral



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Equipment
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<< WARNING: ACCESSING CLASSIFIED INFORMATION. PLEASE ENTER PASS PHRASE >>

***********

<< PROCESSING... >>

<< WELCOME, MR. EREB! >>

<< PROCESSING... >>

<< RETRIEVING INFORMATION ON PROJECT "LEGION"... >>

<< PROCESSING... >>

<< INFORMATION RETRIEVED! >>

<< LOADING STANDARD TROOPER INFO >>

<< EREB ALPHA STANDARD TROOPER >>

<< LOADING ARMOR INFO... >>

<< WARNING: HIGHLY CLASSIFIED INFORMATION >>

<< EREB NANOSUIT >>

<< LOADING IMAGE... >>

Image

<< Helmet >>

>> Quantum Comm <<
>> PAIA (Personal Artificial Intelligence Assistant) supercomputer <<
>> nano-carbon crush-resistant mesh <<
>> projectile refraction coating <<
>> sonic nullifier/magnification <<
>> cordolane signal generator<<
> Will expand all copper-based firearm rounds, jamming gun almost instantaneously <
>> sensory augmentations<<
>> psychic filtering <<

<< Visor >>

>> infrared vision <<
>> night vision <<
>> photon shielding <<
>> shatter-proof lens <<
>> motion detection <<
>> PAIA HUD interface <<
>> PAIA targeting system <<
>> binoculars <<
>> audiovisual recording <<

<< Mask >>

>> toxin filter <<
>> sealed re-breather unit <<
>> exterior comm unit <<
>> Voice modulator <<

<< Arms >>

>> muscular augmentations <<
>> reflexive augmentations <<
>> cutting/welding torch <<

<< Body >>

>> electromagnetic field generator <<
>> nano-carbon flex-plates <<
>> interwoven refraction mesh <<
>> internal oxygen supply <<
>> heavy-duty insulation/cooling mesh <<
>> parachute <<
>> cloaking device <<
>> defibrillator <<
>> self sealing/repairing artificial nanoskin <<
>> anti-grav propulsion jet-pack <<
>> SD (Self Destruct) unit <<
> In the event that the Alpha Trooper becomes KIA, the nanosuit will initiate a self destruct sequence that will disintegrate both the suit and the soldier within. This is to prevent the technology from falling into foreign hands <
>> amorphous metal mesh <<

<< Gloves >>

>> muscle stabilizers <<
>> muscular augmentations <<
>> reflexive augmentations <<
>> nano-carbon mesh <<
>> arachnid-grip palm/finger weaving <<
>> Erebium retractable serrated claws <<

<< Legs >>

>> muscle stabilizers <<
>> muscular augmentations <<
>> reflexive augmentations <<
>> self sealing/repairing artificial nanoskin <<

<< Boots >>

>> arachnid-grip sole weaving <<
>> sound absorption muffling <<
>> magnetic/gravity stabilizers <<

<< ARMOR INFO DOWNLOAD COMPLETE >>

<< LOADING WEAPONRY INFO... >>

<< EREB BLAST RIFLE >>

<< LOADING IMAGE... >>

Image

<< MANUFACTURER >>
> EREB INDUSTRIES <

<< ARCHETYPE >>
> BLASTER RIFLE <

<< WEIGHT >>
> 25 LBS. <

<< LENGTH >>
> 38 IN. <

<< AMMUNITION >>
> DARK MATTER PULSE <

<< RATE_OF_FIRE >>
> 100 PPM (PULSES PER MINUTE) <

<< PULSE VELOCITY >>
> 1.07^9 KM/H (SPEED OF LIGHT) <

<< SELECTION >>
> SEMI, SPREAD <

<< FEED >>
> 5 SEC. RECHARGE EVERY 100 PULSES <

<< ATTACHMENTS >>
> SNIPER SCOPE, GRENADE LAUNCHER, STUN PULSER, AND INFRARED TARGET LASER <

<< DESCRIPTION >>
> A self-recharging blaster rifle that fires bursts of dark matter at a target. The bursts can tear through most personal armor and shields, and leave virtually nothing left of their target. It also comes equipped with an electric stun pulser, grenade launcher, target laser, and sniper scope.

<< EREB BLAST PISTOL >>

<< LOADING IMAGE... >>

Image

<< MANUFACTURER >>
> EREB INDUSTRIES <

<< ARCHETYPE >>
> BLASTER PISTOL <

<< WEIGHT >>
> 5 LBS. <

<< LENGTH >>
> 10 IN. <

<< AMMUNITION >>
> DARK MATTER PULSE <

<< RATE_OF_FIRE >>
> 90 PPM (PULSES PER MINUTE) <

<< PULSE_VELOCITY >>
> 1.07^9 KM/H (SPEED OF LIGHT) <

<< SELECTION >>
> SEMI <

<< FEED >>
> 5 SEC. RECHARGE EVERY 10 PULSES <

<< ATTACHMENTS >>
> STUN PULSER AND INFRARED TARGET LASER <

<< DESCRIPTION >>
> A smaller handheld version of the Ereb Blast Rifle. It has a shorter range, fire rate, and is only equipped with a stun pulser and target laser. <

<< EREB COMBAT KNIFE >>

<< LOADING IMAGE... >>

Image

<< MANUFACTURER >>
> EREB INDUSTRIES <

<< ARCHETYPE >>
> MELEE <

<< WEIGHT >>
> 5 LBS. <

<< LENGTH >>
> 18 IN. <

<< MAKE >>
> EREBIUM <

<< DESCRIPTION >>
> A monomolecular vibroblade made from Erebium. It is designed for close quarters hand-to-hand combat. <

CARRY_ITEMS >> 3 VOID GRENADES, 3 FLASH BANGS, 3 SMOKE BOMBS, AND 2 LAND MINES

____________________
|Abilities|Traits|Racial|
____________________


<< EREB ALPHA TROOPER STATS >>

<< CARRY_WEIGHT >>
> 200 LBS <

<< SPRINT_SPEED >>
> 30 MPH <

<< VERTICAL_JUMP >>
> 10 FT. <

<< HORIZONTAL_JUMP >>
> 20 ft. <

<< MARTIAL_ARTS >>
> MUAY THAI, SAVATE, JUJITSU, KRAV MAGA, KUNG FU, AND SAMBO <

[center]____________________
Current History
____________________


[center]____________________
Past History
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Nikolai grew up in Chicago Illinois, born of Ukrainian parents. He had difficulty adhering to either culture and suffered badly through his school years. Afterward, he attended business college and found himself working in the mail room of a large insurance firm. Ambition took him rapidly up the tiers and eight years later found him as a private investor doing business with America's elite and wealthy. For a while, he was at the top of his game. Disillusioned with the trappings of wealth and lack of use for them, he radically altered his life by throwing his lot in with the armed forces. His analytical mind netted him a position in cryptology, and later a transfer to the Special Forces--Task Force 417. Then came a field accident, grotesquely disfiguring him and landing him in the care of government surgeons. The rest remains above and beyond classified material. He became the de-facto second in command of the Task Force.

Several years later, during a mission, there was a massive explosion. Nikolai was presumed dead. Only recently have rumors surfaced that he has signed up with the mysterious Ereb Alpha Troopers, the elite super soldiers of Ereb Industries.

©2011 Wolven[OC] (BBC Coding/Design) - Roleplay Gateway. All Rights Reserved

So begins...

Verhasst's Story

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Test.

The setting changes from lectre-mansion-grand-ballroom to Gambit's Bar

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Verhasst slid into the bar like a ghost. Silent, vengeful, unkillable. He carefully, as if he were on a battlefield where a careless step could be his last. His facemask and balaclava were on, hiding his eyes, his lips: robbing others of any human qualities that could betray emotion. His cold breath rasped through the filters as he scanned the heads in the establishment. He looked for one face alone among the revellers: tonight was not a night for making merry. He was here only to make war.

He knew that a nondescript van would be disgorging its contents into the parking lot shortly, each man a warrior in their own right. The buzz of a reaper drone circling overhead brought him solace. It's advanced imaging systems were right above him, holding his hand through the entire mission.

Not, he mused, that he needed any hand-holding. He was the ghost. He was ethreal, untouchable. Cold.


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Verhasst whistled sharply and took center stage. He didn't mind interrupting a few drinks; anyone who objected could negotiate a stun-baton and try again tomorrow. His tortured voice rasped out over the filter in his mask.

"I'd like to ask for your attention, sentients," he stated cooly. There was no real question involved. "I'm looking for one man: Maelik. Do you know where I might find him? Please, hold nothing back. His capture is inevitable."

Though his tone might suggest otherwise, arrogance had nothing to do with the statement. The man known as Verhasst was confident in his training; his armaments. No, there was never any doubt. Maelik would die, as would his 'cousins'.

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Verhasst glanced around the silent bar, nonplussed. It was all the same. Maelik would be granted only a temporary reprieve.

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Verhasst grinned softly beneath his mask. "紀ಁⲃ邵, my friend. Always a pleasure to meet a fellow countryman." He nodded to the indiferent bar. "No, no problem. Say, you would not happen to be the 'security officer', here?" he rasped, his voice chilling several degrees. "A man was murdered here, not long ago..."

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Verhasst instanty became more jovial, feeling a bit luckier now that the other rifle in the room was not going to point his direction.

"Da. It is as you say. The man was not my friend, so much as an... accomplice. The one called Maelik, the sooka, he did not kill my 'friend'. But perhaps he can help me to find the one who did..." Verhasst bit out his words with bitterness that surprised him. "Mammon. The demon."

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Verhasst stood in contemplative silence, arms crossed, H&K swinging heavy at his waist. The conversation had taken an unwelcome turn. He shook his head and became an iceman.

"I cannot do that, I am sorry. I believe that I will be leaving now" he said softly. The man did not know Mammon. He was untouchable by mortal means, unscathed by blade or powder. How could this man not know of Mammon and his freakish abilities? Something was amiss.

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detached himself from the wall and slid up to stand before the Demon Lord. He got right down to business.

"Maelik," he rasped in his tortured nitrogen voice, "I want Mammon. Want him dead. Tell me where, and you can go."

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Verhasst felt not the slightest bit arrogant. This was business as usual, and the threat was all too real. He had every confidence in his armor, his weapons, the calibre of the army behind him. If he died, there would be another. And another.

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Verhasst 's hand twitched imperceptibly at his side. Nothing more. The ice in his eyes met the whimsical fire in Maelik's. "I don't ask for your fear, Demon. Your compatriot spends time in Wing City. We know this. Don't waste my time

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Verhasst nodded darkly. "Very well. Take care, Demon. The shadows take no sides."

With that, he turned and left the bar, stowing the High-Intensity Incoherant portable spotlight on his harness. A pity really, the gadget had never been properly tested on a high-ranking demon.

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Verhasst nullburst onto the floor from the upstairs room he'd rented. He was fully armored in his Force-Application suit and armed with a modern M16 rifle. The wireless interface from his HUD to the bar's security sytems apprised him of the situation, even as he came to his own conclusions.

Captain Navka recognized the stylized and functional white uniform of Tech Con. The 417 had worked with these contractors in the past, and he knew them to be consumate professionals by reputation. They were clearly outnumbered by the hostile crowd, but perhaps not outgunned. The pulsing of his geiger readout set his teeth on edge and told him all that he needed to know.

He turned his rifle on Sasuke as the man invoked a mystical cloning power of some sort. Freak. He'd be the first to go. By throwing his lot in with the Techies, he knew he was unlikely to collect his rental deposit, but that was small change in comparisson to the feeling of euphoria that came with the rush of combat.

Verhasst rattled off several bursts of 5.62 AP at Sasuke, trigger finger twitching death. He strafed toward the mercs as he did so, putting his back to the doorframe.

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Verhasst grinned in quiet appreciation for the man on the rotary cannon, but the emotion was lost behind the smoke of battle and the anonymity of his polarized visor. His movements were stiff but precise as he ducked the volley of ozone-impregnated bolts and scuttled back to cover behind a crate of liquor. He returned fire as best he could at any percieved threat, though the mercenaries were putting out the most plasma by far. It was difficult to tell muzzle flashes from plasma impacts, but at least there were a lot fewer figures scurrying around in the bar. Many of the bar's patrons had wisely evacuated out the rear exit, so Verhasst felt reasonably secure in targeting anything that moved.

There was a pop and a hiss as somebody deployed a smoke grenade, but the advanced imaging tech crammed into his helmet allowed him to keep on firing at their green-shaded sillhouettes. A fragmentation grenade exploded nearby and rippled the fabric of his uniform with the overpressure.

Verhasst engaged a silver-haired man who was thrusting bolts of energy at the mercenaries. His M16 rattled again, firing in prolonged bursts.

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Yep. Just regular 5.62 NATO. Shouldn't hurt your character.

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Verhasst burst from the rubble with a pistol clutched in each battered hand. Blood oozed from a multitude of rends in his suit and the faceplate was cracked, but his grip on the weapons hardly wavered. Without a word, he limped backward toward the bar's entrance. The mercs had up and abandoned him. Such was life.

"Don't do anything rash, Assassin. There's been enough bloodshed tonight," Verhasst stated simply in his tortured nitrogen-cold rasp.

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Verhasst quietly took his leave, heading for a reserve extraction point where he could lick his wounds safely.

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Verhasst slunk into the bar and smoothly brushed Cally McGregor to the side. He was in no particular hurry, but she was in the way; an obstacle. Obstacles bore removing. Also, she was loud. Verhasst preferred quiet.

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Verhasst casually wandered in to sit down near the assassin and his charge, bobbing his head lightly to the tinny sound of David Bowie's "Space Oddity" playing over his helmet audio. He seemed strangely and alarmingly at ease, moving with uncustomary fluidity and range of motion. Perhaps he was lost in thought. He seemed to have switched psychopathy off with a reclusive switch. More likely though, he had sojourned down from his listening post in the upper room to fufill the basic need for sustinance. Any human contact was an unremarkable cooincidence.

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The enigmatic operator slowly turned to face the speaker, cocking his masked visage inquisitively. He seemed to be taking in his surroundings with slow sweeps of his hidden eyes. When he spoke, his voice was tortured and raspy, the sound of a steel brush on freezing wood.

"Noted."

With that simple statement and apparent resolution, he turned to the assassin sitting nearby. A familiar face, he thought. Perhaps this one bore watching.

"No. I'm my own man. The hours are better."


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Verhasst was stirred from his cot by the frentic beeping of the Tech-Con surveillance rig that his contractors had installed. As he roused himself, he glanced at the monitor pegged into the wall near his bunk. In a rare stroke of intelligence, the semi-aware construct responsible for the bar's security had seen fit to notify him of the impending danger.

He picked his antiquated M-16 rifle up on the way out the door. He was fully armored already, preferring to sleep ensconsed by Titanium-A and kevlar microweave. He just liked it that way.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Verhasst

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Verhasst slid into the bar like a ghost. Silent, vengeful, unkillable. He moved carefully, as if he were on a battlefield where a careless step could be his last. His facemask and balaclava were on, hiding his eyes, his lips: robbing others of any human qualities that could betray emotion. His cold breath rasped through the filters as he scanned the heads in the establishment. He looked for one face alone among the revellers: tonight was not a night for making merry. He was here only to make war.

He knew that a nondescript van would be disgorging its contents into the parking lot shortly, each man a warrior in their own right. The buzz of a reaper drone circling overhead brought him solace. It's advanced imaging systems were right above him, holding his hand through the entire mission.

Not, he mused, that he needed any hand-holding. He was the ghost. He was ethreal, untouchable. Cold.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Verhasst

0.00 INK

Verhasst whistled sharply and took center stage. He didn't mind interrupting a few drinks; anyone who objected could negotiate a stun-baton and try again tomorrow. His tortured voice rasped out over the filter in his mask.

"I'd like to ask for your attention, sentients," he stated cooly. There was no real question involved. "I'm looking for one man: Maelik. Do you know where I might find him? Please, hold nothing back. His capture is inevitable."

Though his tone might suggest otherwise, arrogance had nothing to do with the statement. The man known as Verhasst was confident in his training; his armaments. No, there was never any doubt. Maelik would die, as would his 'cousins' along with any and all non-humans.

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The soldier stood stock-still, waiting. His words fell on deaf ears and the patrons favored him with the same interest they might give to a background musical act. He dismounted the stage, unconcerned. The secondary objective remained viable.

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Verhasst inclined his head to the most helpful of these and carried on his way. The Grumman thermal imaging device was out by this point, scanning heads with a specially rigged 'lightshow' program, seeking abnormal eddies in the crowd of humanity.

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Verhasst The electronic eye spied an abnormality invisible even to his honed senses as it placed its gaze on Luna. It alerted Verhasst with an inaudible tingle through the lense and automatically uploaded a brief report to the circling ECM aircraft with instructions for further dispersal. Verhasst stiffened imperceptably. He glanced her direction and was startled to find that she had gotten to her feet and was leaving with a young man. Both were looking in his direction.