The Order OOC/SU

MYAAAAAW!

Name: Cyber Apparatus Project 001 (CAP-1 for short)

Gender: Male

Alliance: Serves the highest bidder.

Appearance: His metallic skin has turned what was once the body of a man into a hideous simulacrum of the word. His skin itself is whiter than any form of the word pale, and the circuitry running beneath his skin can be clearly seen. All his limbs have been replaced with metal limbs. His right eyeball has been replaced with an infrared sensor, and his hairline is gone. Most of his cranium is made of metal now, with random spots of scalp still sprouting tufts of black hair.

Biography: CAP-1 was never born. At least, not that he can remember. He was created. He doesnt even have a name, as far as his databank is encrypted. The furthest his memory goes back is a day labeled in his CPU as "Emersion." His memory of that fateful day is broken and scattered, but from what he can access in his internal database is that he was a casualty of said incident. He had been a Battallion Commander for the military. With more than 20 years in the field on multiple battlefronts and having over 12,000 successfully trained Combat Soldiers under his belt, he was a prize. He had won multiple awards For both his bravery and his ferocity in combat.

On the day labeled in his memory circuits as "Emersion," he suffered a tragic accident. He had been on a reconnassaince mission, trying to save some bimbos who claimed they had found a Lost Civilization. During his excavation of the ruins, he found said civilians bodies had been burnt to a crisp by some unknown force. Then, the ground had started to shake, and the ruins of this "Lost Land" rose into the air. The Battallion Commander hesitated to retreat, but quickly started running when a smokey smell reached his nostrils.

He never stood a chance. His last memory of that day was the Ruins exploding like a bomb, blasting away his entire life.

He woke up some time later on an operating table. As he looked around, he could see that all of his limbs were encased by some metallic casing. He struggled to rise, but for some reason, his arms did not move, his legs did not twitch, he did not even feel the blade of the saw that a doctor was using to cut through his arm tissue. Suddenly, it all came back, the pain, the smoke, the fire.... and the blood. From his memory, he had not survived that explosion, and yet here he was, contemplating on the very though of it.

He looked back at the doctor who held the blade, but realized that their was no blood shooting from his tissue. Instead, sparks were scarring the floor and walls of the room, the harsh operating light blasting down on his eyes, eyes that had not opened for several weeks. He passed out, and returned to slumber, trying to escape the horror of reality in the blissfull ignorance that were his dreams.

When he woke again, he found that he seemed to be having a slight vision problem. With one eye, he could see clearly, the hospital walls and beds around him. With the other however, he was seeing a red version of the world. His vision was dark, and looked as though the world had been drenched in blood. He attempted to wipe off his eye, he was sure something must be covering it. But his arm would not respond to his command. His gaze showed him it was still constricted under the metallic plate. He summoned what strength he had and, to his great suprise, the plate ripped free, revealing his arm.

Thats what it should have revealed. He still had a shoulder blade, and half of a bicep, but where there should have been an attached elbow and tricep and forearm and hands, there was a metal elbow, a metal tricep, a metal forearm and a metal hand. He lifted what was left of his left arm into the air in front of his face and examined it. He stifled a cry inside his head. He then gently tapped his right eye, the one that was seeing red, with his metal forefinger. What he heard then would have caused terror in the normal human being. He heard a sound, Clank. He tapped it twice more, Clank Clank.

His head swirled with anger and emotion. He grasped the doctor that had held the blade and with enormous strength pulled him in close. "What have you done to me!" he tried to say, but the voice he heard was not his. It was not the one he remembered. It was deeper, with a resonating sound of echoing metals, with a spark of static for a rougher noise. Its sound was compared to metal shreiking across the highway after a car crash.

"What have you done to me!" he cried out again in the new screeching noise that served as his voice. The doctor smiled and replied, "Exactly what you said to." His memory suddenly went blank, and he reached up towards his cranium with terror. It was metal as well. His mind shreiked as the doctor pressed a button on a handheld remote, a button that signaled the computer that had lain dormant within his skull to activate and serve as the half of his brain that had been burned away. His emotions flared as the CPU accessed sensors throughout his body, giving him touch and feel and all his senses back. His head jolted from side to side as it downloaded information, having restrictionless connection to all waves, internet and radio frequencies. He learned the knowledge of the world in less than a minute.

He was wrought with anger, and gasped for breath, but found he could not breathe. His lungs, heart, and burnt away trachea had been replaced by a vocabulator which acted as his new voice and a breathing apparatus which would continually pump blood and oxygen throughout his bloodstream forever. He could not stop it, he could not even slow it down.

He was unable to make any sort of breathing noise, only able to stifle sounds of moaning and incomprehensible words. He choked on air as what was left of his charred vocal chords vibrated with assistance from the vocabulator, giving his "voice" an even raspier sound.

He staggered off the table with his new legs, his metal legs, the legs which when he put pressure on would cut into what was left of his thighs for the rest of his life. His thighs attempted to bleed, but they could not. Tubes connected directly into his blood stream recycled old blood throughout his body, and would for the rest of his life. He was unable to bleed. If a gash or cut appeared on his body, specialized tubes forced the exact right amount of proteins and fibers needed to rebuild the tissue in a short time period. His chestplate was cold, and hard against his metal fingers. He attempted to cry, but he could no longer do that either. His tear ducts had been vaporized in the explosion, and could no longer produce water to cool his eyes. Even his eyelids themselves had burned away.

His one eye that still saw things normally had a special metal fixator that wrapped around his head and had wires running underneath his skin to keep the eye temperature cool. He no longer needed to blink. His other eye had been blown apart, and had been replaced by an infrared sensor and a microchip in place of the retina and temple. He came to find that his teeth had been shattered in the blast as well, but he could not touch them. Their was a cold mask in place of his mouth that had a tube running from it to his chest. He no longer needed to feed. He had circuits designed to recirculate the energies in his body for continuous use forever. If he ever ran out, all he needed to do was charge his battery.

With such little need to live and all of life's trivial tasks removed for him, he came to realize that there was no point for him to go on. But he could not kill himself. Shortly after he broke out of the Doctor's office he had tried attempting suicide, but failed miserably when he found no material capable of penetrating his metal shell. Even shooting himself point blank, the circuits would simply reconstruct the tissue and he would be alive to endure all the pain. All the sorrow. All the sadness within his shell. He was alone.

After a few years went by, he begin utilizing his talents. He became an assassin. But he was a very unique type of assassin. In addition to a high wage for his services, he was paid in human body parts. Healthy human tissue that he could forge with himself to make himself stronger and sustain life within his metal prison. Each time he gets human tissue and suckles it into his body, his own strength builds. He cannot grow taller, he cannot gain weight, and he cannot eat anything other than flesh. When he does feast, the shield covering his mouth lowers itself, revealing a dark hole where his mouth once was. A tube then comes out of the hole and pours an acidic compound over said "food." Then the remains are sucked into his core via the tube.

Now, he works for noone. He commands no armies.

His talents go to the highest bidder.

Personality: CAP-1 has no true personality anymore. His brain that was once human is void of emotion, and the half of his brain that is a supercomputer has taken over. The machines influence is complete, and very maniacal. His speech has taken a wild turn as well, where in the beginning of this Cyborg mutation he was still recognizable as once being a human do to his verbal communication style. Now, the machine in his head has taken over, and speaks from its own artificial mind, dubbing what used to be the modern English language as "Slang." He talks now with perfect vocabulary, along with titling his sentances before he speaks. Now, his social persona only lives for one thing: To satisfy the machines lust for completion.

Powers: CAP-1's body itself is a power. He has no hidden strengths, no superhuman feats and no Ethos. His strength is the fact that he is machine, and his armor cannot be penetrated by any known material. The fact that he was constructed after the Ethos were discovered is no hinderence to him either. The metal that encases his body is lined with material that is resistant to Ethos energy. It is called "Synthflesh." It is like a second skin, a coccune if you will, that shields him from the damaging effects of Ethos. The fact that he is a machine means that he is also very very strong. This aids him greatly in his assassination missions and in normal fights. He has a custom made Sniper Rifle. The brand is Aratech SD signature series velocity calibrating Rifle with a Tri-Light synth-scope, meaning it can track by movement in addition to sight. It is also equipped with Infra-red sensors, meaning he can potentially scout an entire building through his scope.

This is his favorite weapon to use. He can also upgrade the machinery on his body with money he takes from his assassination missions.


Ill be making another character btw

 

you're making ANOTHER character? lol, I must say Storm, you sure go the extra mile for the bio's

 

lol. Thanks. you read it all that quick? lmao. jk. Yea... I prefer giving all the information I can to exemplify my character already... that way its easier for people to connect with the character when I do more personality development.

 

you could not get me to read it that quick. I prefer the more simple approach, however. too much info can cause you to go crazy. lol, however, hopefully we can start the RP since we must have enough characters now

 

yea. lol. You should read it though. It flows very well, and contains very important details.

 

Storm, your next character should be the next bad guy. lol

 

what about aqua?

 

she never made her character

 

Jesus, Storm. You are the most frigging ridiculously detailed RPer I've ever seen. I may or may not join this. It depends.

 

it depends on what?

 

lol. Thanks Moogles. And yea, my next character is going to be bad. Really.... really... really bad. Ill have an SU up either tonight or by tomorrow at the latest.

 

Whether I can get over my attitude.

 

YOu are an expert RP storm

 

Why you say that?

 

this has been a rare HG compliment, brought to you by the makers of Halo, Transformers, and all cheesepies everywhere. so please, do not question him. lol

 

you forgot starwars

 

lol. Thanks Honor Guard. I appreciate it. And yea, my next character will be up by tomorrow night.

 

excellent. then we can start this RP, which is one that I've been dying to do

 

I feel that we need another person, not anothert character, but a real person