Sign Up Chimera [M-LV, mayhaps a tad of S]

[Rhym]

[FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=DarkSlateGray][b]Chimera [i]n.[/i][/b]
[b]1. [i]a.[/i][/b] An organism, organ, or part consisting of two or more tissues of different genetic composition, produced as a result of organ transplant, grafting, or genetic engineering.
[b][i]b.[/i][/b] A substance, such as an antibody, created from the proteins or genes of two different species.
[b]2.[/b] An individual who has received a transplant of genetically and immunologically different tissue.
[b]3.[/b] A fanciful mental illusion or fabrication.

[SIZE=4][ALIGN=Center][b][u]CHIMERA[/u][/b][/ALIGN][/SIZE]

In the waning years of human superiority, there was a city, and its name was Neo Avalon. It rose to the heavens, a pinnacle of the race's achievements. Yet, as majestic and gleaming as the tops of their towers were, the foundations were rotting. Violence, discord, poverty, crime, civil strife, and more plagued the roots of this mighty tree. And any structure with a weak base is sure to fall...

At the top of the society, there were the Neoristocrats, grown bloated and opulent from their ruthless exploitations of those lower than them.

Very few could claim to be middle class in this violently bisected society, but those that did called themselves the Proles. They were a rapidly vanishing minority, ridiculed and looked down upon by the Neoristocrats, envied and hated by the lower classes.

The name by which the authorities knew the lower classes by was the Plebes. But that is not the name they gave themselves. Amongst their own, they were the Mob. The unemployed, the disgruntled, the gang leaders, the stim-pushers, the slavers, the petty thieves. Whoever they were, they were millions strong, and their collective will and might could not be ignored by the highborn for much longer. But even the Mob could claim themselves above some...

The Chimeras. Genetic engineering, geneng, was alive and well in the World of Tomorrow, and thousands upon thousands of the poor creatures were produced. When a human's genes are modified with those of just about any animal, the end result will be stronger, faster, and more sensitive than any regular human could ever hope to be. Many were bred for subhuman intelligence and docility, and suddenly there was an army of obedient and willing super-servants. Technically, they weren't human, so most slaving laws didn't apply. Many humans were disgusted by them, considered them abominations, subhuman freaks, and roving lynch gangs were common everywhere on the tired earth. But many were sympathetic to the Chimeras and their plight. However oppressed they may have been, they had a voice, and it would be heard.

[SIZE=3][ALIGN=CENTER][b][i]Five Years Previously...[/i][/b][/ALIGN][/SIZE]

"Clincy, I want a full prog report on your work here," spoke the brusque, militarily efficient man. His mustache shook slightly whenever he spoke.

"Y-yes sir, ASAP. If you'll just come this way," the mousy, nervous, jittering technician replied. He placed his hand on the dully reflective matte black panel on the security door. It opened. They entered the expansive laboratory and strode briskly through it.

"Now, s-sir, as you know, 20 years ago Oroboros Corp had come into possession of a lucrative military contract, which tasked us to engineer several designs of economically feasible 'Super-Soldiers' over a period of 20 years." His stammer seemed to fade when he talked about his work.

"Cut the exposition, Clincy, I [i]know[/i] that much. Why am I here today?" They stopped in front of a large view window, the frame of which was filled with reinforced, triple-paned bulletproof glass. It looked into a small chamber containing a laboratory chair turned away from them, 'Net jacks trailing from a hole behind the head.

"That." Clincy pointed into the window. He fiddled with some controls and the chair turned slowly to face them. "Or, rather, her."

A small, humanoid shape sat unconscious in the chair, 'Net goggles fixed over her eyes. The military man tried to appraise her height just from looking at her. She would be taller than the hunched 5'4" Clincy, but not as tall perhaps as the 6' military man.

"What're the specs, Clincy?"

"Glad you asked. Well, for this genome, we mixed human genes with some [i]Varanus komodoensis[/i] genes, and the resulting?"

"Woah, Clincy, do I look like a scientist to you? What in the hell's a Vana-mana thingumybob?"

"[i]Varanus komodoensis,[/i] sir. You would know it as the Komodo dragon. As a result, this specimen's about 125% stronger and faster than your average human, her finger- and toenails are more like claws now, and she's immune to over 99% of known bacteria."

"And she's got a tail and scales," noted the military man.

"An unfortunate design flaw. Only one of the original 8 of her brood was born without a tail, or at least one that long, and he didn't last long."

"There were 8 in her brood?"

"Yes sir, all but her died. It seems that the farther back down the evolutionary tree you go from [i]Homo sapiens,[/i] the less compatible the genes are with us. Four of the eight died from organ failure due to incompatibility, and three of the eight exploded. This genome didn't?"

The military man cut off the scientist. "Clincy, did I hear you right? Three of them [i]exploded?"[/i]

Clincy grinned. "Well, we figured, why not make them a bit more like the dragons of lore? It took some tweaking to get it right, and we only sequenced it into four of them, in case it had deadly repercussions. But, with the help of some glands that produce flammable gases, all they need is a small spark and bang! Instant flamethrower! Interesting how, of all eight, one [i]with[/i] the dragon alteration would be the most stable. I guess that, at its core, genetics is just a big game of chance."

"Well, this is all terribly interesting, Clincy, but what are the other designs your team came up with?"

"Oh, yes, the other three designs. We'll get to them momentarily. But there's still something for you to see with this subject. It's time for her Awakening." The mousy technician turned to the control panel once more. In the chamber, the wires and electronics were detaching themselves from the goggles and chair.

"Awakening?" asked the military man.

"For the last 16 years of her life, Specimen F, or Freya, as we like to call her, has 'lived' almost entirely in the 'Net, learning all sorts of lessons, from English, math, and basic history to martial arts and firearms training. Electric pulses have kept her muscles active to prevent atrophy."

At this point, the goggles had lifted from her face, and she sat up from the chair. Her eyes were striking, two vertical black slits adrift in a sea of gold-flecked amber. They regarded the men on the other side of the glass impassively.

Clincy spoke into the microphone. "Say hello, Freya."

[ALIGN=Center] - [/ALIGN]

Freya stood in the small chamber, studying the two men. They seemed to have temporarily lost interest in her, and were now conversing with each other.

She knew what she was made for. She wasn't stupid. She knew that she was made entirely to serve the plans of others, to fight and die in purposeless wars for the faceless rich sitting snug in their comfortable, towering mansions. She knew her purpose.

But she had plans of her own.

She strode purposefully over to the chair that had been her home all of her life. She ordered glands long dormant to kick into action, feeling their strange yet comforting rumblings inside her. She grabbed a coil snaking around the chair and wrenched it loose. Sparks fell from the severed end. She turned to face the window, and took a deep breath...

[ALIGN=Center] - [/ALIGN]

"Ah yes, the other three designs. Glad you brought them up, sir. The second genome was spliced with [i]Panthera tigris[/i] genes? that's a tiger, sir? in the hope of making stealth and infiltration units. Only two of the eight of that brood survived, a male and a female. The third genome we spliced with [i]Canis lupis[/i] genes? a wolf, sir? in order to make an effective squad-based fighting group, a 'pack,' you might say. Four survived there, they seemed more stable than the other genomes. And the last genome we spliced with [i]Ursus arctos horribilis[/i] genes? the grizzly bear, sir? in order to make strong and durable warriors, but only one, a male, survived of that brood."

"Clincy, from what you've told me, this whole system seems terribly inefficient. If survival rates are that dismal, what use are these genomes to the military?"

"A-a very good question, sir, a-and I feel that?"

A young technician looking into the window tried to catch their attention. "Sir! Subject F is acting strangely!"

"N-not now, Carlson, I'm?"

He never got any farther.

[SIZE=2][ALIGN=Center][b]SIGN-UPS[/b][/ALIGN][/SIZE]

[b]Name:[/b] Fairly straightforward. Keep in mind, though, that this is a futuristic cyberpunk type setting, and the name should be fitting of such.
[b]Gender:[/b] Hopefully there won't be any questions about this one.
[b]Age:[/b] If you're going to sign up as one of the Chimeras engineered by Oroboros Corp, they will be anywhere from 18-24.
[b]Caste:[/b] Any of those mentioned at the top of the backstory, but I'll tell you right now that all the action's gonna happen between the Neoristocrats and the Mob. Speaking of which, in addition to the Oroboros Chimeras, it would be great if someone could play as the Neoristocrat leader (or at least someone influential in that caste) and someone could play as the leader of the Mob (or likewise). Also, keep in mind that most commercial Chimeras have been designed to be less intelligent and subservient. If you're going to go Chimera, just choose one of the Oroboros-designed ones. Should more than one person want the same position, I'll choose whichever one I like better. Fall-back characers might be a good idea.

[b]Appearance:[/b] What does your character wear? What do they look like? And things of that manner.
[b]Personality:[/b] Be creative.
[b]Weapons/Skills:[/b] In the dangerous city of Neo Avalon, it's unwise to go unarmed. Also, if your character is a Chimera, here is where you should list what modifications geneng has wrought.

[b]Writing Example:[/b] Show your expertise! If you're going to play as an Oroboros-designed Chimera, try to use this example to write about your character's escape from the facilities. But, if you have a [i]really awesome[/i] idea for your character that you've just [i]gotta[/i] put down, but it doesn't really have anything to do with the escape, feel free to put that down instead, I won't hold it against you.

That's about it, I think. Have fun with it![/FONT][/COLOR]

[Disenchanted]

[SIZE=1]Third edited post, :animeswea :animesigh, I hope this is better.
=================================================
[B]Name:[/B] Oran
[B]Gender:[/B] Male
[B]Age: [/B]24
[B]Caste:[/B] Canis lupis- Wolf chimera
[B]Appearance:[/B] He stands 5?9? with a medium muscular build. Pitch black fur covers his whole body. Except for a small white diamond shaped patch on the bridge of his nose and the tip of his tail. Oran?s eyes are bright almost flurecent orange in color, almost demonic looking, this gives him a quite menacing appearance. Out of the four Chimera like himself he would be one of the most obvious. Oran is werewolf in appearance, looking like a man hybrid. He stands on his bent hind legs all the time. A thick, coarse fur covers his whole body, it is thicker around his head and neck region giving the appearance of a mane. He has a shorter snout than a normal Canine creature. His hands are more human like than wolf, long black claws take place of fingernails. For a basic example [URL=http://www.blizzard-art.com/img/cai/Werewolf.jpg]Click[/URL].Oran dresses in three quarter urban camo pants with a belt and black combat boots. He wears a pair of gray gloves with the fingers cut off them, on each knuckle is a short metal spike. Both of his ears are pierced with silver studs. He has scars running down vertically over both eyes, from the top of the eyebrow ridge to his cheek bone.
[B]
Personality: [/B]Oran is decisive and strong-willed. He tends to reserve his feelings on any given situation, preferring to keep out of most ?sibling? conflicts that may arise. He feels exceedingly depressed if given a moment to reflect. Oran feels he must look after those younger than himself. In his ways he may be very quick to anger. He feel as if he was denied something, being the more obvious of the four like him. He may appear to be ?dull? or ?dimwitted? to some people who do not know him. Oran keeps close only to the four wolf Chimera. On occasions he only needs look at someone and the argument is won with a stare. Some people find his eyes intimidating.

[B]Weapons/Skills:[/B] Oran prides him self on his abnormal ability to jump long distances. His legs are well formed and show advanced muscle tone allowing him agility in battle. He prefers to use human made weapons and a variety of Chinese Martial arts. If need be he will resort to using his teeth and claws. His eye sight is well developed as well as a keen sense of smell although not as well developed as one of his other fellow wolves. In battle he is swift and calculating; he reads his opponents and studies how they move.

[B]Writing Example: [/B]
[COLOR=RoyalBlue]?You going to come quietly or do we have to tazer you again??[/COLOR] The guard stared down at the chimera like he was an insignificant piece of garbage.
Oran looked up at the human from the corner of his 6ft by 5ft cell, the guard looked away as soon as both species eyes locked. His voice was low, deep and raspy.
[COLOR=RoyalBlue]?I?ll go quietly?? [/COLOR]He stood from his cell and walked towards the guard. For his good behavior thus far Oran was rewarded with a thump to the back of his knee caps, causing him to fall to his knees. The guard clasped a heavy metal collar around his neck with a chain. Four more clasps were fastened around his limbs each with a chain.
Oran stepped out side his cell to be met with four more guards, one for each chain. The chains were for one reason only, Oran was an exceptional jumper. He may have been the most characterless of the three other wolves thus far in the experiment but he was the most defiant. This flaw had earned him solitary.
[COLOR=RoyalBlue]"We picked you to be today?s show pony for the officials, don?t you just fell special??[/COLOR] Oran gave a low pitched growl to signify he wasn?t impressed or feeling special. This remark earnt him another thump, this time to the back of the head.

He was walked via armed escort to the ?display room?, as it was so lovingly named. Shoved inside he was led to a plat form. Each chain was locked into a pole preventing escape. The display room was a large underground facility, three quarters the size of a football field. It could display anything from lasers to hurdles. Depending on the nature of the demonstration.

Today?s demo was a special one, ?secret service? officials from the government were watching. Without these regular visits funding would cease and the program would end. Perhaps today was the day to go out with a bang. He didn?t like leaving his pack but they could take care of them selves. The guards backed out of the room and disappeared behind thick metal doors. Oran grunted and his chains went limp and were released.
No time was wasted he leapt forwards and dodged a few flying objects. In their boxes the spectators clapped, mildly impressed. Bounding forwards he randomly changed cause and headed for the far side of the vast room. The officals exchanged meaningless chatter.
[COLOR=RoyalBlue]
?Can he reach us up here??
?No, we are more than 25 feet off the ground?
?Oh...good?[/COLOR]

Oran crouched downwards flexing his strong leg muscles; suddenly he leapt forwards more than 15 feet. With every stride he gained more momentum, each bound becoming longer in length. 40 feet away from the wall he picked up speed and using one of the stacked crates he launched upwards and came crashing headfirst through the triple plated glass of the observing plat form.
Before any personnel could react Oran was sprinting down the halls, coming upon a door marked [B]?EMERGENCY DOOR: DO NOT OPEN?[/B] he launched himself at the centre. Breaking the doors clean off their hinges he fell several feet down passing sheer rock. Grasping madly at the rock face rushing by he caught a small ledge with one hand, Oran was left hanging totally exposed. He cursed his unusual impulsiveness. Looking up above him he saw that 3 guards were using ropes to try and get to him. Looking down he saw nothing but rocky crevases with the occasional ruined building.

The guards reached him quickly; one now stood above him, poised in his hand was a knife. The man raised it above his head, Oran thought he was going to cut his wrist, he was wrong. The man cut down violently over Oran?s face, he slashed down over both of the chimeras eyes.
Yelping Oran swiped madly at the man knocking him off the ledge and onto the ground below. Oran thrashed about madly he couldn?t see and had no idea who or what was coming next.

He fell off the cliff, as he fell his legs became entangled in the hanging ropes from the men. He dropped several hundred feet down wards with a loud ?snap? the rope went taught. His legs didn?t break due to the strong muscle structure but were agony none the less. Swiping madly and blindly in all directions Oran severed the ropes attached to his feet.

He fell down the rest of the height hitting many rocks on the way down before finally reaching the bottom.
[/SIZE]

[Kitty]

[size=1][color=#006aaf]I love this idea. It reminds me of an RPG I did with a similar idea. Gotta sign up. ;3

[b]Name:[/b] Kyusa/Kwi
[b]Gender:[/b] Female
[b]Age:[/b] 19
[b]Caste:[/b] Chimera - [i]Panthera tigris[/i] Hybrid

[b]Appearance:[/b] Kyusa is the surviving female tiger hybrid, made obvious by the colored fur that covers her body, ears and tail. Kyusa's fur is very different compared to the other chimeras who had tiger genes, since it covers her entire body (though she still has short, black, human hair coming out of her head) instead of just patches. And her fur is jet black with orange stripes, rather than the conventional tiger's fur. Her ears rest at the top of her head, popping out of her sleek hair, and her tail sneaks out of holes she has to cut in her large baggy pants and curls up under her hoodie to keep from sight. Her fingers and toes have small pads underneath them, and her finger and toenails have turned into claws that are retractable or extendable at will. Kyusa dresses in her large hoodies, usually wearing the hood up, baggy pants, black gloves and sneakers. She wears such clothing to hide her tiny, scarred, mutated figure from the onlookers, who she knows would more likely than not attack her when she did not do as she was made to do once they discovered what she was. The only physical changes that occurs when Kyusa submits to Kwi is that her smooth jet black hair spikes, her ears become more pointed rather than round, and her tail refuses to stay hidden, and becomes very crooked.

[b]Personality:[/b] Kyusa is extremely intelligent, and talks very dignified. If you heard her talk without seeing her face, you would have thought her to be one of the most thoroughly educated Neoristocrats you would ever meet. However, this analytical genious melts away once she is frightened or extremely nervous. She becomes a terrified little child in the body of a teenage chimera, also known as Kwi. Kwi is Kyusa's other personality. She can also take over whenever Kyusa is put under a lot of stress, or when she is very happy or excited. Kwi is just as hyper and annoying as she is timid and easily frightened. Surprisingly, Kwi is out a lot, though Kyusa spends much of her time trying to learn how to suppress her.

[b]Weapons/Skills:[/b] Kyusa fights as if she is close to mastering over a hundred different fighting techniques, while using them all at once with her own special 'spin' on them when executed. She is not gifted with enhanced strength, so she must outmanuever and outwit whoever it is she is fighting, rather than knock them out with her best left hook. On the other hand, Kwi is, to be blunt, a mess when it comes to fighting. Though she is endowed with the same excellent hunting equipment that Kyusa uses (her enlarged fangs, claws, enhanced sight, hearing and balance, etc.), she hasn't the slightest clue as to how they should be applied in battle. She is still a fantastic runner, though, and that is what keeps her from getting herself killed. Strangely, the roles seem to reverse during fighting situations, as Kwi is replaced with Kyusa when she becomes a hopeless wreck.

[b]Writing Example:[/b]
It is quiet. Mornings are always quiet, but this is different. I can smell the difference in the silence. I have wondered for a while if I am gifted with empathy, for I can almost always sense the range of emotions that have passed as I have slept. It is a ritual for me to wake up and take a deep breath, then analyze what I inhale. But this is different. Scary, even. I can smell joy, but at the same time, rage and fear. What is the most profound difference.. is the smell of blood. One does not require empathy to smell that.

Brother is wide awake at my side. I call him Brother, but we are not related. We have been raised together like a pair of siblings, so I know him only as such. I am sure he views me the same way. I wish to always be at his side. It is him that keeps me here. Keeps me surfaced. Once I am fully submerged in fear, stress or fatigue, I cannot controll my body. I, Kyusa, am replaced with Kwi. As she watches me, I am forced to watch her. I cannot express to you what a strange feeling it is to watch yourself move and act, but have no part in controlling where you are moving or how you are acting. Brother does not understand fully, either, but he helps keep Kwi submerged.

[b]"... and the entire pack is missing, as well. They left thirty people dead on their escape, either scientists or security."[/b]

The silence is interrupted. I miss the first couple of sentences, but I can easily hear the rest. There are voices. Somebody is stopping near our cell. I recognize one of the voices. Klueger is his name. He is one of the scientists that monitors Brother and myself. I have listened to his talking to me. He tells me things he admits that he has not told anyone else. He laughs when he tells me he thinks of me as his own sister and pet at the same time. Had he not helped turn me into such an abomination, I might find him pleasant company.

[b]"How many does that leave, Klueger?"[/b]

[b]"With Freya and all four wolf experiments gone, only the two tigers and grizzly hybrids are left, sir."[/b]

Sir. Klueger calls him Sir. He must be another one of the superiors that comes to see the 'experiments' and watch their demonstrations. Let it be known that all of the sirs are, in fact, completely useless, dimwitted tools used by the higher ups to make sure the scientists are not getting out of hand. But I do not see why they do this. The scientists take pride in their work, and they view [i]us[/i] as their latest projects.

[b]"They could hunt down the escapees, right?"[/b]

[b]"S-Sir? We can't do [i]that[/i]! These new breeds are too intelligent to be let free! The ones that have escaped will not come back, and the remaining will not be swayed to obey with a flashy suit or badge!"[/b]

Klueger is foolish to burst out like this against Sir, even though he speaks the truth. It will not do any good. Were I to be released, I would doubtlessly stay far away from this place, though I do not know how long I would last with my condition. But I continue to listen, and as I predicted, Sir refuses to listen to Klueger's advice.

[b]"Listen, you! What I say goes down here, alright? I say we use the kittens and teddy bear to hunt down the lizard and dogs, so we will!"[/b]

I can feel my muscles tensing at the sound of Sir's voice. I want to make him pay for disrespecting me. For disrespecting Brother. Thinking of him, I glance around my cell to look at him but Brother is not there. I pause, feeling the fur on the back of my neck beginning to bristle. Something bad is going to happen. Actually... Not extremely bad. Just different. Scary. I can handle it. Brother appears at my side.

[b]"I'm going for it. Follow me, Kyusa."[/b]

Foolish Brother. I understand now. While I slept, the rest of us were escaping. Brother remained behind for me. Had he not waited, he could have escaped. I do not mind remaining here. The tests are no longer painful after the hundredth time.

[i]'Stay asleep Kwi. I don't need you now. Stay asleep...'[/i]

The glass breaks. Brother has leapt out of the cell, and I follow with no hesitation. I see Klueger's bloody body on the ground with large glass shards in his chest. He is not dead, but he is dying. Brother did not mean it, though. He is sorry, Klueger. I know he is.

[b]"This way, Kyusa! The exit is--"[/b]

He is cut off when he slams into a metal door and a red light begins flashing above us. They were surprised when the first of us escaped. But they are ready for Brother and me. We are cornered between their forces and the big metal emergency door.

[b]"Stay Kyusa. C'mon... Don't leave me to fight these men alone."[/b]

Brother is referring, of course, to the foot soldiers hired by this horrid organization to keep us under control should we escape. We can hear their footsteps, though they are not due to pop into sight for another sixty seconds. I try to speak, but I can only make low growling noises.

And then I see it. A corridor just off to our right, but the men are coming closer. I can smell their sweat. Only fourty seconds. I do not even have to say a word before Brother understands. He would prefer to stay and slaughter the poor idiot henchman coming our way, but he knows that it would be smarter to run now, and run fast.

And then, the fear. As we are running towards the corridor, we can see the men. A few dismal yards away is a legion of fifty or so young men with large spear-like tools, which will most definately hurt. I try to concentrate on Brother and the end of the corridor, but I am starting to slip...

[b]"Kyusa! Don't slow down now! We're almost out..."[/b]

His voice begins to fade. I'm submerging. I am tired. I am worried. I am afraid. I am...

Awake. I am still surfaced. I will [i]stay[/i] surfaced. I pick up speed and run close with Brother. He is smiling wide, as if he was not worried at all. I envy him. The small army of ragtag security are no match for our enhanced abilities. They are no longer a threat to us within mere seconds. Brother chooses which turns we take, and I do not doubt his decisions. He turns a corner, and I follow, but I am forced to skid to a halt.

[b]"The sky..."[/b]

The words pass over my lips, echoing with exhaustion. I am tired, but happy. Kwi is bound to take over any moment. I rarely speak anymore, even when I want to. Kwi is a better talker to begin with, so it matters little. I want to thank Brother before I submerge, but I am stopped at the sight of him crying. It is unbelievable. Such a small, insignificant stream of water falling down his scarred cheek... But it means so much.

[b]"Thank you, Brother."[/b]

I whisper my thanks as I feel myself slipping away again. I will not stay surfaced this time, as I did while running. Brother will carry Kwi on his back and run. Run far away from this place. I know he will. He wouldn't abandon us. Not now. But... As I am slipping, feeling my control of my body weakening, I see him slowly walk away. He is running. Why?

Then... I am alone. No, that's not true. There is Kwi. She will do what she thinks is best. Run. But where will she run? I have not been over taken by Kwi in over four years. I have had no need for her. What will she do? Is she any different?

I can only watch, as I have always watched.

---

OOC: Kind of a weird character (yes, she is schizophrenic), and if there are any problems, let me know. I don't mind having to edit anything.[/size][/color]

[Rhym]

[FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=DarkSlateGray]Woah! Looks like the Tiger positions are in more demand than I thought! Go ahead and finish your post, Vampire_Fox, and I'll decide then.

[b]Name:[/b] She goes by Freya.
[b]Gender:[/b] Female
[b]Age:[/b] 21
[b]Caste:[/b] Chimera, affiliated mostly with the Mob.

[b]Appearance:[/b] She stands at about 5'8". Her body is entirely covered with light green scales. Most consider her eyes her most striking feature, being so vibrantly yellow and seemingly bottomless. She doesn't blink a lot, which puts many people off. Her tail is about 3'10" long, and narrows considerably from the base to the tip. She wears a light blue jumpsuit of sophisticated and cutting edge polymers that she managed to pilfer from Oroboros Corp during her escape. It fits her perfectly with nary a wrinkle, can stop weak knife slashes and old-fashioned bullets, and yet is surprisingly breathable.
[b]Personality:[/b] Freya is fiercely independent. Her least favorite thing is people trying to warp her goals to fit their own purposes. Unlike most Chimeras, she is quite intelligent. And yet, there is an immense loneliness in her, stemming from being one of a kind. There is no one like her in the entire world, no one she could confide in, to trust in when she's at the end of her resources, and this saddens her greatly.
[b]Weapons/Skills:[/b] She's faster and stronger than most humans. For close-quarters combat, she mostly relies on her deadly martial arts skills, often throwing in a rake of the claws on her hands and feet. She carries two military-issue flechette pistols, each with an optimal range of 40 meters, and a heavy-duty disruptor rifle. However, her most potent weapon is part of her genetic makeup. She can breath a large, searingly hot cloud of flammable gas, which incinerates or melts most things in her path. However, after she does such an attack, she must metabolise something before her glands can produce any more flammable gases to ignite.

[b]Writing Example:[/b] In the smouldering wreckage of Lab A, Freya stood, facing the destruction she had just wrought. She stepped nimbly over the threshold of broken glass as the fire sprinkler system kicked into action. She shivered as the water soaked the only piece of clothing she had, a patient's gown.

[i]I'll have to find something better than this flimsy piece of crap,[/i] she thought. [i]More to the point, I have to find a way out of here. I've no doubt that little stunt caught the attention of security.[/i]

She spied a grille on the ceiling hanging askew, knocked that way from the fireball. It was the work of a moment to leap from a desk into the ventilation shafts.

She crawled along in that way for more time than she could keep track of. All throughout her journey she heard the tromping of boots in the corridors below, no doubt guards searching for her.

But at one point, she passed a completely deserted room, stocked with clothing and weaponry. [i]The armory,[/i] she thought. [i]It must be.[/i]

She stealthily detached the grille and slipped down into the room. She selected a sleek jumpsuit made of a smart polymer. Slipping it on, it immediately contoured to fit her form. [i]Better,[/i] she thought. She grapped a hip holster and two flechette pistols off of a weapon rack and vaulted back up into the air vents' passageways.

After another eternity of crawling through cramped spaces, she noticed what appeared to be the back exit of the facilities. Unfortunately, it was guarded by six heavily armed guards. Four had maximum-strength stun guns, but two had what appeared to be disruptor rifles. She quickly devised a plan of action.

The grille popped down in front of the unsuspecting guards, and with it came Freya, guns blazing. One of the guards with a disruptor rifle fell immediately, and the other followed suite soon after.

She leapt into the midst of the remaining four. They leveled their stun guns and simultaneously fired. Unfortunately for them, Freya ducked. Four unconcious bodies hit the floor.

She strode to one of the dead guards and relieved him of his rifle. Then she grabbed his hand and placed it, palm down, on the back door's security sensor. The blast doors slid open and she soon vanished into the bustling streets of Neo Avalon.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[Onix]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Ralkan
[B]Gender:[/B] Male
[B]Age:[/B] 23
[B]Caste:[/B] Chimera - [I]Ursus arctos horribilis[/I]

[B]Appearance:[/B] Ralkan was designed to be a virtual living tank, and his creators succeded. His animalistic side leaves him a hulking chunk of pure muscle, standing at a massive 7' 5" and weighing over 500lbs. His back, arms, and legs are covered in thick, bristle-like reddish-brown hair, but that on his head is longer and black. His hands are tipped with massive, jet black claws, and his teeth have grown in teeth deserving of his carniverous ancestry. The most notable feature that he shares with his ursine brethren, however, is the small hump of pure muscle between his shoulders that makes him unbelievably strong. He has had to do his best to find clothes that fit, managing to have gotten a pair of baggy, ripped, olive-green cargo pants, and boots large enough to house his feet. His upper body is covered by a leather jacket that he managed to force a Plebe into making for him.

[B]Personality:[/B] Ralkan is a terribly unstable person, prone to violent mood shifts, usually leading to actual violence. At his best, he is quiet, brooding, and uncommunicative - at his worst, he is a violent, raging force of destruction, tearing anything around him to pieces without regard to any consequence. His temper is terribly thin, and the smallest irritation can provoke brutal retribution. He displays an unusual hatred for humanity, and is even more on edge around crowds of them, if that's possible.

[B]Weapons/Skills:[/B] Ralkan's skills are focused, primarily, on physical power. For example, his strength is nearly five times that of a normal human, allowing him to easily drive one of his clawed fists through a person's torso. Or that his stronger leg muscles let him clock in at 30 miles per hour easily. His skin is tougher, he has greater stamina, but he also has an immense appetite and a tendency to slip into berserk rages from time to time.

[B]Writing Example:[/B] Will Edit[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Claire]

[FONT=Arial]*gasp* My first RPG. Eee! I'm glad you came up with this, because I was afraid I'd hardly ever get a chance to try to play along with something I liked.

Name: Ophelia Kröger

Gender: Female

Age: 21

Caste: Canis lupis, wolf chimera (I'm so happy you included this, I know exactly what to do with it!)

Appearance: She stands at only 5'3" tall, and is somewhat underweight. Her parents, who have since disowned her, were also quite petite, which accounts for her small stature. Her hair, golden blonde with an unnatural shine, falls to her shoulders and very gently twirls into elegant ringlets. Her cynical blue slitted eyes, both haggard and angry, shimmer brightly under the silver moonlight. Being small, her body never really matured; her thin curves are only slight and her bosom, while proportionate to her chest and head, would disappoint the average human woman (and man). She may be one of the least obvious chimeras of the whole lot, unless one is close enough to see her hairless pointed ears and sharp black fingernails. Her mouth always in a tight frown, her near vampiric canine teeth are hidden and cannot giveaway her true race. Though she detests humans for both making her the way she is, and hating her for the way she is, she tries to fit in with them in an exterior way: often seen in human clothing (such as fitted jeans, converse, and sweaters). However, at night, she sports outfits (such as [URL=http://www.dracinabox.com/pinstripebust2.jpg][B]this[/B][/URL] ) that humans don't normally see in public, as she can live as a wolf chimera would without any human interference.

Personality: She is angry at humans, and has no problem expressing it. Reticent and often morose, she could be mistaken for a younger teenage human with an angst problem. She can only trust other chimeras, and even then, she feels completely alone. Other than her blatantly hateful attitude, she is a very enigmatic figure.

Weapons/Skills: Should she need them, her "fingernails" are very effective claws, as well as her long, sharp fangs that cut like knives. Being a wolf chimera, her senses are slightly better than those of humans, as well as her stamina and strength. She can smell anything from at least two miles away, and can run to the location in about eight minutes (depending how far away it was). Even with the enhanced skills she possesses, she is not perfect, and is often afraid for her own life...

Writing Example:

This could not be true. Her reflection must be warped - this must be a strange, funhouse type mirror. She knew what she looked like, and the mirror was not showing it. It was trying to tell her that she resembled one of those chimeras that were becoming all the more abundant in the area, and she knew that she was an average human being.
"You're lying," she told the mirror, as if it would comprehend her distraught tone of voice and begin to show her the truth. However, it only made her terror much worse.
Fangs. Her teeth were long and sharp, like a blasted vampire. She shook her head frantically, convinced that she was having a terrible nightmare. A lucid dream gone terribly wrong. She tried to remember falling asleep in her own bed, but could only recall...
"Did it go this way?" came a voice, followed by a constant bass of thudding footsteps against the cold metal floor. Ophelia turned from the mirror, startled, even though she figured it was only a nightmare. The voices were male, and incredibly horrible. They were only voices that seemed to belong to normal, human men, but they were extremely frightening. They lacked any emotion, and filled Ophelia's heart with foreboding.
"It's footsteps. See them? On the floor, going toward the bathroom."
The voices grew louder, as did the footsteps. Ophelia's terror increased - almost to the point of collapsing to the floor in a teary heap.
Suddenly, she noticed things that she hadn't noticed a mere second ago: her vision was much clearer and brighter, and her other senses were sharper. She could smell that the men who approached were wearing cheap cologne, regardless of the fact that they were at least twenty feet away, behind a closed metal door. Their voices sounded as if they were right outside, but she could sense that they were further away.
"What's happening to me?" she asked herself aloud, reaching her hands to rub her tired eyes. Pain shot through her eyelids, and she yelped. The dream was too vivid and real; her fingernails had become pointed and black, like claws, and she had inadvertedly stabbed herself with them. The men were closing in quickly - she didn't have time to worry about the strange changes the dream had done to her. She glanced around, heartbeat speeding up, for any means of escape. Her surroundings finally became clear - she had only noticed her wrong reflection in the mirror on the wall when the dream began. The nightmare was taking place in an eerily clean, white, stoic bathroom; a men's bathroom, oddly enough, due to the urinals on the walls. She couldn't take the time to be disgusted, as she sensed the carriers of the scary voices were opening the door to the bathroom as she thought.
"Are you in there?!" one of the men exclaimed, stupidly. She wouldn't answer him, she was smarter than that. The other man seemed to slap his partner in unconcious agreement with Ophelia, and then pushed open the metal door.
As if something possessed her to do so, she let out a vicious cry and leapt on to the man who entered. He screamed in fear, just as she screamed in anger, and lifted his hands to protect himself as he fell to the floor. The other man reached into his labcoat pocket and produced a small, clear syringe, filled with a bubbly yellow liquid. Before he could inject it into her, Ophelia quickly attacked him and knocked the syringe from his grasp.
"Oh my Go--!!" he cried, slamming himself into the wall instinctively and sliding into a protective fetal position. She didn't even have to look at either of them before taking off down the hall - she didn't want to put human faces and stories into the dream, feeling extremely guilty for hurting both men. She didn't even know why she did, or how she could; it seemed as though she had become a vicious animal.
Frantic voices rang in her ears, calling for help against an "escaped experiment." Experiment K. Why did that sound so familiar to her? She almost felt as if it were her own name...
Every time she met up with another man in the hallways through which she ran, the same wild animal broke from her spirit and wrought havoc upon the unfortunate being that got in her way. She couldn't control herself, no matter how badly she wanted to just evade the person and continue running.
"What am I running from?" she asked herself, approaching a large, open door. This must be the exit, she thought, happiness and relief filling her tense mind. She didn't need to answer her own question; she knew what she was running from. Fear.
Strangely, she met no more faceless men as she leapt out the door and continued in her race against no one. Regardless that the moon shone as only a sliver in the dark black sky, she could make out every car, bush, tree, every obstacle that she might've run into if she were awake. Now that she wasn't in the hot white building anymore, she seemed to like this dream.
At least, she enjoyed it until her dream-self fell asleep, on the ground in an open grassy field. She enjoyed it until she awoke under a burning red sun, the field still an open, grassy one.
It was not a dream after all. Several hours of incredulous thought turned into several more hours of hysterical weeping. She really was...a chimera.

----

Eep. Not so great. Oh well, it was interesting to do. =) I almost made it a "twenty gallon brass syringe...filled with holy water..." but then I thought, "Leave Rasputina where Rasputina be." [/FONT]

[Rhym]

[FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=DarkSlateGray]The Chimera Underground thread is up! Go [URL=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=51822][u]check it out[/u][/URL] if you have any questions!

P.S. Ziggy, the link to your pic's broken. You forgot to include the "h" in "http://". Just giving you a heads-up.[/FONT][/COLOR]

[Asim]

'cracks knuckles' let's go:

[B]Name:[/B] Asim Haraith A.K.A The Dreaming Crane.

[B]Gender:[/B] Male.

[B]Age:[/B] 26.

[B]Caste:[/B] Pure blooded Neoristocrat.

[B]Appearance:[/B]
About 6 ft 5 in height, he is muscular and has a very well toned body. His hair is dark brown, and his eyebrows are long. His complexion is a little bit tanned. He wears a black vest underneath a black high collared silver buttoned noble's tunic. On his left shoulder is a silver rimmed short black cape with a golden glyph emblazoned on it. Around his waist is a black leather belt with a circular metallic buckle. He wears black trousers, and knee high black leather boots. His hands are always sheathed by a pair of gray suede gloves. His face is both ferocious and calm at the same time. Scars are found here and there on his body and face. His eyes are dark brown (They seem black).

[B]Personality:[/B]
He is a bit Playful at times, but always calm. He is proud, but humble, and may strike as a bit shy at times. He is sarcastic, bitter, and cold when he wants to. Bravery is also a trait of his. Underneath the façade of tranquility slumbers a beast, but through out his life he has never turned to this living nightmare that dwells within. He is very intelligent, and highly sophisticated. Called a lady's man, and is truly one; passionate, and emotionally scarred.

[B]Weapons/Skills:[/B]

[I]The Bane:[/I]
An extremely long Katana with a two-handed polished white hilt, the Titanium blade glitters darkly with an extreme mirror like clarity. It can slice even through the toughest of steel. The Sword is placed in a decorated gray scabbard the hangs by the right side of his belt. He is an extremely skilled swordsman, and is a grandmaster of almost every style of sword fighting there is. He claims that the blade sometimes speaks to him, and tells him what people are thinking.

[I]The Hunter:[/I]
A single-barreled flintlock like blaster; the barrel is 16inches long. It uses magnetic fields to fire Titanium pellets, which are charged with pure energy at hyper velocities. It's range is indefinite. Each pellet is about 2 centimeters in diameter. It is extremely accurate, and unbelievably powerful. The only downside is that it has to be manually loaded every shot like an old flintlock, but it doesn't take long. He keeps it in a decorated holster strapped on his left thigh.

[B]Writing Example:[/B]
[I]Thunderous roars blasted through the silver horizon, bright red scintillations blazed, and the winds danced over the glistening edges of the crashing waves. A dark monstrous cliff stood valiantly as it looked over to the distance where a titanic storm was brewing.

Near the sharp edge knelt a man; his grim desolation radiated in the darkness of his cold stare and fabricated eerie shadows of howling creatures here and there on the drifting winds. The flashes of lightning revealed his darkened face at irregular intervals. His head drooped over his broad muscular chest, which heaved with heavy gasps. The slender, and steel tempered fingers of his naked right hand lay pausing between his long dark locks, which seemed to gleam against the booming bursts of light. He was naked except for a pair of white crimson stained trousers, and muddy leather boots.

On his back a great bleeding gash gaped, where blood slowly seeped down. The rusty katana limply clenched in his gloved left fist reflected the grim and miserable image of his broken spirit. Leaning on the sword; he got up, staggering, and barely dragging himself to move. His sharp hawk like eyes carelessly scanned a strange, and violent, but presaged movement within the shapeless chaos erupting far above in the mysterious vastness of the skies.

A tired smile was dimly etched on his dry lips, and with it glided a curse. Flash backs of bittersweet memories rushed through his aching mind, the disturbing vision of a city of shadows, and torn flags, strangely accompanied with the warm image of someone dear to his lonely heart, a girl nay a woman of both spiritual, and physical beauty.

A grunt escaped his clenched teeth; he shook his head, refusing to bind himself to the past, his tapping on the sword?s hilt played an interesting, but painful tune of long lost fortune. The storm grew wilder with crimson comets, hurtling down in the horizon.

Standing upright, the chaos above approached with monstrous velocity. One hand rested on his waist, while the other pointed the blade towards the flames. A whirl of darkness and light swept through him. His nerves were as tense as the tip of a blade. A knee quivered involuntarily under the stress and twisted excitement.

Death was swiftly gliding like a fiery arrow aiming for the very core of his soul; a gigantic figure jetting out of the shifting clouds, cloaked with the blaze of hell. The smile turned into a grin. He sprinted to the very edge of the cliff to meet his doom. It shot down at him in graceful flight. He was showered with glittering globes of liquid flames flung off the massive serpent like behemoth that writhed continuously. Gathering all the strength left within him he leaped to meet the plummeting rush of the beast with his flailing sword? [/I]

He woke up startled, and sweating in his bed; his muscles tense. Turning to his side, he sunk into the arms of a beautiful woman lying to his left.

"hush my dear" her sweet voice soothed him.

"Will these nightmares ever cease?" He whispered.

"They will for what's left of the night..." She smiled, and kissed him.

[DeathKnight]

[color=crimson][b]Name[/b]: Corsair (Commonly called); Arkadiy (Rumored)

[b]Gender[/b]: Male.

[b]Age[/b]: 49.

[b]Caste[/b]: Ex-Combat Engineer (Rumored)- Very influential member of the Mob.

[b]Appearance[/b]: He is considered to be above average in height perhaps reaching, at the most, 6'4"-6'5". His black hair is cropped into a short mess of tangles that he never bothers with. He has an medium length beard that is usually left as unkempt as his hair. His right eye is a cybernetic one that lets off a dull red hue; his left is an ever-changing mixture of blue and green. A long scar runs just above and below his cybernetic eye. His general appearance is considered to be that of a non-Neo Avalonian resident and there is some question as to his origins.

He usually wears whatever casual clothing is available, matched with a long, black, hooded cloak.

[b]Personality[/b]: Corsair is known to enjoy a good joke now and then- but not [i]too[/i] often. Indeed, he retains a general air of being somewhat cynical about the world (or, specifically, Neo Avalon) but can have some rare moments of warmth. He is somewhat sharp and his age gives him the wisdom necessary to lead but he is uninterested in proving his mental acumen. He is a mixed bag of positive and negative personality traits but is well-liked enough.

[b]Weapons/Skills[/b]: He has a mastery over many long-range weapons of the near-past and present. However, his weapon of choice is a light machine gun from his homeland. It fires, with little recoil, armor piercing energy rounds that can compromise most body armor and vehicle armor. It is not graceful by any means- in an era of quieter weapons it is an exception to that trend. He is also rather skillful at a variety of military tasks- sabotage, mechanical repair, logistical organization and more.

His cybernetic eye also offers him the option of night vision and infrared vision.

[b]Writing Example[/b]: [b]Five years prior.[/b]

~-~

"I presume you've heard the rumors."

Corsair let out a puff of smoke and glanced over to the anonymous gentleman he had been conversing with. Looked dirt poor, talked like an intellectual- a rare sight as of late.

"The Chimeras?" Corsair replied and puffed on his cigar. "Don't think it's ********, eh?"

"Truth is stranger than fiction. You know how the military likes to dream." The man took a long sip from his drink. The bar they were in served the worst drinks he'd ever tasted but it was about as low key and out of the way as you could get in the teeming city.

Corsair chuckled a bit, "Something wrong with a little day dreaming?"

"That depends on what their dreams spawn."

"True that." Corsair said and scratched his beard, thinking. "If the rumors are true then.. well, I suppose they are pretty lucky. They should get a lot of sympathy.."

"Sympathy?" The man had an amused expression on his face, "I pity whoever gets our sympathy."

"So you should."

"Well, why sympathy?" The man asked as he took another sip of his drink. "Or, perhaps, why [i]our[/i] sympathy?"

"This city is already filled with monsters. Isn't it easy to feel for something that is similar to yourself?" Corsair gestured to the room around them, "This shithole is pretty picturesque compared to most of the scenery around here. All these people have a dream of something greater and they do whatever it takes to achieve little insignificant pieces of those dreams- murders, stim-trafficking, smuggling and whatever else. I'm not sure if all of this ambitious dreaming is positive or negative."

The man looked over to him, "Something wrong with a little dreaming in Hell?"

A wry smile came over Corsair's face.

"That depends on what their dreams spawn."[/color]

[0ber0n the Neko]

Name: Kieter
Gender: Male
Race: [i]Panthera Tigris[/i] Chimera
Age: 23
Caste: Oroboros Chimera
Appearance:[URL=http://members.fortunecity.com/chronotriggerians/images/rei1.gif]Picture of Kieter[/URL]
Personality: Kieter is a complex character. He is known to be somewhat reserved, and is often sarcastic in his dealings with other males. He opens up to very few, and is alarmingly intelligent in his speech. However, females often attract his undivided, and even somewhat positive, attention. He is very protective of any female introduced to him, and is even known to resort to violence when his claim is removed. He is highly partial to music, especially rock and roll and metal.
Weapons/Skills: So far, all that Kieter has been able to come across is a pair of short, sharp blades. His strength is augmented, as well as his speed, and he can extrude four claws from holes between his fingers.

Writing Example:

"...I'm going for it, Kyusa. Follow me," Kieter whispered.

Kyusa looked at Kieter, confused.

"Come on. We don't have time to dawdle. They'll force us to hunt the others if we dont leave," Kieter urged Kyusa.

Kieter grasped Kyusa's hand. "Come on, snap out of it. We need to leave. NOW."

Kyusa only nodded. She seemed distant. That was never a good sign.

[i]No time to lose. Someone's cut a wire, and we'll only make it if we hurry.[/i]

Kieter ran, holding Kyusa's hand in his. He ran through the glass of his cell.

He found himself in a metal hallway, voices shouting in insurrection. [i]I hope to whatever merciful deity above that Freya was right...[/i]

"This way, Kyusa! The exit is this way!"

He ran towards a large metal door, attempting to pry it open. "Damn!" he said. It wouldn't budge.

He heard footsteps. He turned to face the oncoming figures. They looked like security personnel.

"Not good." He turned to look at Kyusa. "Stay Kyusa. C'mon... Don't leave me to fight these men alone."

She only growled. It seemed more confused than defiant.

Kieter's brows furrowed. [i]It would be wiser to run...[/i]

The security wielded their spears menacingly. "Come on, kitties! You want to play?"

Kieter growled, the fur on his back prickling up. "Bite me," he muttered.

He turned to see the end of the corridor. The door was open, but began to close, slowly.

He rushed towards the soldiers, noting that Kyusa was lagging behind. "Kyusa! Don't slow down now! We're almost out..." Kieter whispered.

She slipped out of consciousness. Kieter had to try to carry her out, but saw no opportunity. He was trapped.

"****."

Suddenly, he heard the pounding of massive feet. He turned to see a massive figure approaching with haste.

"Ralkan!" he yelled.

The crowd looked confused. "Ralkan?" Kieter heard one solder ask confusedly, before looking toward the gargantuan man. It was too late.

There are very few ways to stop such a huge intertia at such a speed as this.

Kieter could only watch in morbid curiosity as Ralkan plowed through the lines of soldiers with barely any change to his momentum.

"Physics. What a wonderful thing."

Kieter turned to the reclined Kyusa. A few soldiers were left, still menacing.

She lifted herself strangely.

"****... Kwi..."

He ran. No good could ever come from Kwi. It was better for him to leave.

He ran, and hoped to God that she would live.

[Guest Jinn]

[SIZE=1][B][U]Name:[/U][/B] Jinn no Dante
Though he forces those under his command to call him by his self proclaimed title of "NeoGod."

[B][U]Age:[/U][/B] 19

[B][U]Gender:[/U][/B] Male

[B][U]Race:[/U][/B] Human

[B][U]Caste:[/U][/B] NeoAristicrat Leader

[B][U]Appearence:[/U][/B] He is a tall (6'1"), muscularly built (215 lbs) man. He has very pale white skin and strange peircing eyes, that are all grey in color except the bright yellow starburst ring around the pupil. He has a head full of wavy shoulder length hair, which is dark brown with inch long black tips. He is wearing a very nice, long sleeve, black button up dress shirt ( which he buttons up only part way,...exposing his white under tee.) Also he covers his legs with a pair of creased and cuffed black dress pants. His outfit is completed witha pair of Vintage 2005 all black Nike Air force ones. He has four shimmering metallic fangs (both top and bottom cannines and incizors.) He has four earrings, one black size "2" gauge in each ear and a black diamond stud above each of those. Three small platinum chains adorn his neck, as well as a platinum watch around his left wrist and two platinum bracelets and a black diamond ring on his left hand. This draws attention to his long and suspiciously sharp fingernails.

[B][U]Personality:[/U][/B] Horribly intelligent, he can be cold and calculating. A militeristically minded leader. He values nothing higher then logic. He does not associate with erratic emotions. He hates ignorance and even worse hates to be un-informed of the happenings in "his" utopia. In the appearance of the public he likes to portray a generous and caring leader. One who is humble and only worries about the needs of "his" people. He plays as if it is a democratic party. He can be charismatic and talkative. This is all a front. It is nothing more then a game to him,...a show on television in which he plays a specific character with a specific personality. In private he is a canniving, manipulative, dark, and mysterious tyrannical overlord. He is a very private person with strict rules about being seen when not addressing the general public. In truth he is a anti-social hermit with little to no friends. He is a selfish, self absorbed rich brat.

[B][U]Weapons/Skills:[/U][/B] As a child, in preporation for his ascension to power after his father,he was trained in a number of ways:

[U]Virtual Reality Simulation[/U]- At the tender age of 8 Jinn was locked in a VR chamber for a duration of 10 years under strict orders from his father. It appeared as a studio apartment with all necessary provisions and equipment. Such exercises as increased gravity pressure, simulated sparring sequences, weapons training, weight training, and even full scale war simulations of steadily increasing diffuculty were provided. He was also taught by a virtual professer in a simulated school in necessary areas of study.

[U]Martial Arts[/U]-In the first 8 years he spent in the VR chamber Jinn was forced to master 2 styles: The first is Muay Thai, a type of kickboxing. The other was Shai Chou, or chinese wrestling. In the last 2 years Jinn has created a hybrid clinch ( close range) combat style of his own. He calls it "The Black Hand."

[B][U]Writing Example:[/U][/B][/SIZE]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[B][U][CENTER][COLOR=Red]ONE YEAR AGO[/COLOR][/CENTER][/U][/B]

[SIZE=1][B]All the important figureheads of NeoAvalon gather in a secret location awaiting the arrival of there prodigal son. The NeoAristicrat leader, Xavier Marquees, stands at the forefront of the crowd. It has been a long time coming,...many cameras zoom and focus upon the booth where, in just a few minutes, Xavier will be addressing the sea of people. There is so much commotion that most of the audience has forgotton the huge circular tank that lies directly behind Xavier's booth. Xavier and his wife, Fatima Faye Marquees, cannot hope to forget about the monsterous technical orb, however, because for ten years it has housed their son, Jinn Dante Marquees. Xavier's strict orders themselves have imprisoned his son for a decade in a total virtual world. The time has now come for his "project" to emerge. Xavier stands from his seat amongst the others and approaches the stand. He takes time to carefully adjust the many microphones that will "feed" his word to the many peoples. He takes a deep breath and in his nicest and most inviting tone he says:

[COLOR=BLUE]"Hello everyone of NeoAvalon. I, Xavier Marquees, wish to take alittle of your time tonight. Most all ready know why we are here, but for those who do not I will take the time to make it clear."[/COLOR]

The cameras zoom out to show the huge mass of metallic equipment behind Xavier.

[COLOR=BLUE]"This is one of our grandest inventions. One that I myself helped to design. It is the VR-6S, or in simpler terms a virtual reality simulator. Incased in this beautiful contraption is an entire Virtual world, set to the exact standards of those controlling it. In this perticular case that would mean myself. Now some of you may be saying: why is this so important? The VR-6S has many applications. It could be used militeristically to train better soldiers in shorter time. It could be used schoolastically to teach our children more efficiently. And finally it could be used economically to save us taxpayers more money. It has been a long work-in-progress, but I assure you the process has been perfected. To put all your minds at ease, I have placed someone very important to all of us into the VR-6S. Ten years ago today I placed my own son and heir into the simulator."[/COLOR]

He takes a moment to pause as gasps are heard rumbling from the restless on-lookers. He then lifts a remote from behind the booth. The lights shut off and Xavier activates a roll out screen, where images of a young child playing begin to emerge on the large screen.

[COLOR=BLUE]"Great people of NeoAvalon,...do you remember this tender face? This is what you think of if you were to remeber my son. God,...how the years roll by. The reason I show you these images is to project into your minds the little innocent child that went into the simulator. I am going to use this to explain to you some of the detailed functions of the VR-6S."[/COLOR]

The next images are of a slightly older version of the same boy attending school and martial arts classes.

[COLOR=BLUE]"Here we see my son at the age of twelve,...four years inside. He is going to school and receiving the best of combat training,...at a age where he is like a sponge. Now one must remeber the two classroom setting that we just seen were, in fact, nothing more then projected light images, similar to the ones that I am using as visual aides right at this very moment."[/COLOR]

Xavier presses a button on the small handheld remote and again another image of a slightly older boy is portrayed on the screen.

[COLOR=BLUE]'Here is that same boy at six-teen. He is already attending college and is an active member of the military. At least inside the simulator. Though trained in virtua realityl his intellect, level of study, and combat prowess not only applies to the real world,...but due to the constantly increased gravitational pressure inside the sinuilator,...my son will emerge even stronger and more agile then a trained war veteran of twice his age."[/COLOR]

Xavier puases once again as all of the crowd erupts in simultaneous cheering and a wave of applause is heard. After he calms the crowd he continues:

[COLOR=BLUE]"In conclusion, before I bore any of you any longer, I will explain to you why i dared to do this to my own offspring. It was for all of you fine citizens of NeoAvalon. Oh, yes. You all heard correct. I did all of this for each and every person living in NeoAvalon. What I have done is created a better president, a better soldier, a better leader for my people. So with out further delay, I bring to you. O blessed ones of NeoAvalon,....YOUR NEXT LEADER: JINN DANTE MARQUEES!!!"[/COLOR]

Xavier steps to the side and lifts his hands to the sky as a team of men in long white lab coats step right up to the giant chamber. With the press of a few buttons, vapor spews from what is now manifesting itself as a doorway to the mechanical monstrousity. After the bellowing smoke clears, a sillouet of a man is ammerging from the inside of the chamber as he comes into view, Xavier walks over gives the young man a hug and holds up both of their arms. The surround crowd erupts into another load roarous chant. Jinn is escorted away as Xavier once again approaches the stand.

[COLOR=BLUE]"My dear people. I have been informed that the simulator is a perfect success. My son is off to get some well deserved rest. Some real life rest. I have one more announcement to make. Until my resignation I will remain the leader,...my son will act as public representative until then. Thank you all and good night!"[/COLOR][/SIZE][/B]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[B][U][CENTER][COLOR=Red]SIX MONTHS LATER[/COLOR][/CENTER][/U][/B]

[size=1][b]Jinn has been the public representitave for over half a year with amazing results. Public support is up twenty-eight percent and in the face of the public , Jinn,heavily out weighs Xavier in favoritism from the general public and the military ( in which he acts as General.) At the moment Jinn is just coming from what seemed as a successfull peace negotiation with the MOB, which was personally arranged by Xavier himself.

Jinn steps into his stretch limo with the one man he trusts: Csir Abriel Valentine.[/b][/size]

[CENTER]IN PROGRESS[/CENTER]

[Rhym]

[FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=DarkSlateGray]Hey, great sign-ups everyone! It all looks good!

I think I should be able to kick this thing off very soon. I'll just leave it a day, see if we can get any last-minute sign-ups. Otherwise, the RP proper should be up tomorrow if all goes well! If no other people sign up for the remaining two wolves, I'll just say that they didn't escape from the facility or something.

Finally, though I've said it before, [URL=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=51822][u]Chimera Underground[/u][/URL] is up! Any questions you have can be directed there, but I'm not averse to private messages.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=Red][b]EDIT:[/b][/COLOR][COLOR=DarkSlateGray] [URL=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=51846][u]It's up![/u][/URL] Go and post![/FONT][/COLOR]

[TheRebel_Nikolas]

[B]Name: [/B] Nikolas Arkady
[B]Gender: [/B] Male
[B]Age: [/B] 21
[B]Caste:[/B] [I]Canus Lupis[/I] - Wolf Chimera
[B]Appearance: [/B] He stands 5' 7", with moderate build. His thick, dark hair hung just to his shoulders. Though a chimera, Nikolas looked more man than wolf. Thick fur covered his forearms and backs of his hands. His canines measured just under two cm. He wears a black longsleeve shirt, his legs covered in dark blue jeans and black leather boots.
[B] Personality: [/B]
Nikolas is usually calm and quiet. When hesitant to join a fight it is not out of fear, but out of thinking of the fastest way to end it. Though considered to be the runt of the pack by his other wolf brethren he can look after himself and is quite intelligent.
[B]Weapons/Skills: [/B] Though quite agile and able to dispose of his enemies with his bare hands he occasionally likes to use his
[URL=http://www.airsplat.com/media/image/P_LG62.jpg]twin desert eagles[/URL]
[B]Writing Example: [/B]
[COLOR=DarkSlateBlue]FIVE YEARS AGO[/COLOR]
He awoke to find himself in a small dark room. His eyes adjusting, he noticed a door on the far side of the room. Taking a closer look he spotted a DNA access panel near the door. He placed his palm upon the panel.[COLOR=Red]ACCESS DENIED.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=DarkSlateBlue]Damn it[/COLOR] he said and just then he heard footsteps approaching. Thinking fast, he thought of what to do.
[COLOR=DarkRed]Feeding time[/COLOR] the man said, sticking a tray through the door. His arm shooting out, he grabbed the mans wrist and pulled him through the door. The man began to panic. Using this time to his advantage to slip through the door. He quickly sheilded his eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the light. Sprinting down the corridor, he began to hear heavy footsteps approaching.
[COLOR=DarkRed]There he is![/COLOR] shouted a man as he rounded a corner. Reacting fast he grabbed the mans arm as he aimed to shoot, twisted it behind him and shot the other men before snapping the guards neck. He let the man slump to the floor as he began to run again. It wasn't long before he came to another intersection. This time he slowed and peered around the corner. At the other end of the corridor was a large door marked [COLOR=Red]EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY. ALARM WILL SOUND[/COLOR]. This warning did not stop him from plowing through the closed door into the open air beyond it. He continued to run, ignoring the blaring siren behind him.
[COLOR=DarkSlateBlue]PRESENT DAY[/COLOR]
Nikolas sat in the corner of the room.
[COLOR=DarkRed]Did you think you could keep running forever?[/COLOR] the intruder asked, raising his weapon. With a swift movement he stood and raising his own weapons shot the men. He walked over the one man not killed and picking him up said[COLOR=DarkSlateBlue]You can tell your boss that he's never going to control me and that anyone else he sends after me will be dead, just like your friends here.[/COLOR]he said, indicating the dead men surrounding him. He then let the man go and as soon as he was free, he ran as fast as he could in the other direction.

[Andrew]

Sorry it took so long and thanks for waiting. If you've got any problems, let me know and I'll edit accordingly.
---
[B]Name:[/B] “Major” Armstrong (normally just called Armstrong or referred to as The Major) A.K.A ‘X-Delta 24-GP’

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Age:[/B] 29 (Appears to be around 20)

[B]Caste:[/B] Generally whoever pays the most. Armstrong sympathises with Chimera’s.

[B]Appearance:[/B] Although Armstrong lives up to his name in strength, his size betrays him. Standing at only 5’8” and looking relatively small many people doubt he is capable of the many things he’s been hailed for. Each of his muscles are toned to near-perfection and all hold great strength. He has short, light brown hair, which is always spiked up completely vertical. The Major has light hazel eyes, which appear cold and calculating and can apparently see a person’s soul when he looks at them. His young looking face is almost always cleanly shaved and he seems a little too pale. He is however, what most of the opposite sex would consider attractive. Armstrong always wears a large black cloak that covers his whole body from the neck down and is perfect for storing all his little gadgets and weapons. Underneath he wears a tight fitting white vest, slightly baggy blue jeans and gloves and boots especially crafted for him. Everyone of his clothing are designed to be durable, light and non-constricting to give Armstrong ability to move freely.

[B]Personality:[/B] An enigma in all senses of the word. Whilst looking almost childlike, his eyes show wisdom and cunning far beyond his years and his mind follows this pattern. While seeming almost harmless in a regular conversation, cracking jokes and in general making an *** of himself, Armstrong is always calculating his next move just below the service and is always prepared for any situation to blow up in his face...which it normally does. He loves the thrill of a good fight, whether it’s melee or a long-range fight and despite many of the rumours about him, he really doesn’t like taking others lives...unless they really, really deserve it. He doesn’t mind delivering a bit of pain though.

[B]Weapons/Skills:[/B] In amongst his large cloak, Armstrong carries guns, explosives, knives, technical gadgets and all sorts of helpful tools. Many people who have had the pleasure of working with him seem amazed by the sheer amount and variety of things he manages to fit inside his cloak. Yet, underneath the cloak, and underneath his clothes, Armstrong himself is a hardened warrior with exceptional ability. He has heightened strength, speed and reflexes, agility and each of his senses have been raised by a fair degree. Although he pales in comparison to the force of might that are the Chimera’s he is far more advanced than your average (and in some cases, above average) human. A technical genius, Armstrong has knowledge and experience with all sorts of computer systems and is responsible for some of the larger scale computer thefts in recent date.

[B]Writing Example:[/B]

[B][I]26 years previously…[/B][/I]

“And how is ‘He’ today?”

His deep voice echoed through the small control room, his silver flowing hair reflected in the glass in front of him. The tech who sat beside him began moving dials and pushing buttons and the lights on the other side of the glass grew as his reflection faded.

Sitting no more than ten feet away the infant sat in a huge seat with all sorts of wires connecting to him on all limbs and coming from most orifices. The visor he was wearing raised slightly so that his face was visible, and he groggily awoke.

“‘He’ seems fine sir...His brain functions are far above normal and He already seems to have the ability to lead a military force on par with Major Hoshino. However, his body seems immensely fragile, although that might just be a side effect of the accelerated ageing and he should become stable in time. ” Replied the tech through his thick glasses.

At the word ‘Major’ the infant’s ears picked up, and he heard more or less every word through the thick glass, as if it wasn’t even there. He would surely remember that word...

“Such a pity...” The deep voice again, the silver-haired man was about to reveal what ‘He’ had already known.

“Sir?” Asked the Tech, slightly confused.

After a little laugh, the silver-haired man began again. “We’re through with human engineering. We’ve been given the go-ahead to start producing Chimera’s for the Government for the next 20 years, starting in a few months, so X-Delta 24-GP here is no longer necessary.” The silver-haired man scoffed.

“But sir!-” The Tech started.

“But nothing! You will follow my orders John! Terminate the little bastard and get on with the Chimera research I gave you a few months back or I’ll terminate you as well as ‘Him’” He shouted, pointing to what he considered an abomination growing in a jar.

“Yes sir...” The Tech, John, sighed, defeated.

With out another word, the silver-haired man left with a maniacal grin plastered to his face. Immediately, John began typing frantically into his various keyboards and clicking furiously with is mouse, not really sure of what he was doing, but he had to do something...didn’t he? After all, this ‘abomination’ as ‘He’ was called so often was grown from his very DNA, unknown to his superiors of course. But there was no way his ‘Son’ would be thrown out like a cheap whore.

Within the room, the helmet came back down over His eyes and He was immediately submerged into the cyberspace He so loved. For the last three and a half years of His existence He had been strapped to this chair, plugged into this network, learning. Learning at such a furious rate. His hunger for knowledge had surprised them. They had no clue that He’d become self-aware.

True, His body was weak right now, probably weaker than a baby’s, but He’d calculated that the accelerations effects would lessen and He would remain a healthy young adult for some time. Although this sounded promising, and if they’d known that they were on the verge of immortality they’d have carried on, His childhood had been robbed of him. He didn’t want this to happen to any others, but this Chimera project would surely take place and if so it would ruin the lives of more ‘children’ much like Himself.

But now wasn’t the time to worry, John had just fed Him with every file in Oroboros’ system and was disconnecting him fully from the system for the first time. All the wires hissed and left his body, the shackles holding to the chair released. He already knew what John was planning to do with him. He’d have to find some way to thank His ‘Father’, but now wasn’t the time either.

The door to the room opened and John rushed in with a large bag. If he were caught now, the consequences would be dire, and his ‘Son’ would be killed for sure. From the bag, John pulled a survival suit and helped Him into it and then dressed Him with some regular clothes over the top so the child wouldn’t look out of place.

Into the pockets John slipped a few small firearms and two little knives along with a phone and enough money credits for Him to live on for a while. John Armstrong then hugged the boy and pointed to the door.

Finally deciding on calling himself after his ‘Father’, Armstrong left the room quickly and quietly understanding exactly what his ‘Father’ was instructing. He’d never been touched before, except for the cold touch of metal...it was...nice.

[B][I]24 years previously...[/I][/B]

Now in the body of what appeared to be an 19-year-old, the self proclaimed ‘Major’ Armstrong had already made a name for himself amongst the new world order. He had quickly adapted to his surroundings, took on any job that offered money and had already been involved in some big computer and arms thefts. He’d already banked several huge sums of money and had a lot of connections within the Mob and the Neo’s. His amazing intellect and incredible skills had made it easy for him, but he still worried about the ‘abominations’ now growing in Oroboros’ womb and if his ‘Father’ had been found out.

No matter...He would do what he could for them all.