FULL NAME:
Andre König
CALL-SIGN // ALIAS:
Sergeant/Sarge in reference to his previous occupation.
GENDER:
Male
AGE:
38 years of age
GENERATION:
RONIN
APPEARANCE:
Andre is considered a rather bulky man, he's much beyond his prime years at this point, his hair having gone white, and his once very toned mid section now sagging with extra weight and age. Though he's still in astonishing shape for someone that should be leaving the RONIN in the next few years. His height around 6'8, and his arms and legs still display heavy muscle mass. Though his hair remains a ghostly white.
Perhaps the color his hair has turned reflects the spirits of his lost comrades, or perhaps it simply reflects how much constant combat has aged him. Andre tends to wear outdated military uniforms, preferring the functionality of the shirts and pants, giving hims plenty of pockets for storage of ammunition and supplies. However he does own a bulky trench coat, for when he must carry a heavy rifle, or a weapon that needs to be hidden until a certain time. To top off his look he is wearing usually a matching beret, ranging from black, to green, or even red depending on the uniform he puts on that day.
Being an aged survivor, Andre is mostly defined by scars, including a large one dragging across his eye, and the light blue orb, looking faded, as it died many years ago. However he seems to function well with just one eye now. His arms, which are usually on display due to his uniform sleeves being rolled up, also show heavy scaring, including bullet wounds, cuts, and slices. His chest is no better when it is put on display, plenty of long scars from blades, circles from bullets, and so on. He truly is a canvas of scars, perhaps more scars than skin even. Each line reflecting either a great victory for FEARLESS, or a great loss of those around him.
BIOGRAPHY:
"Oh my dear comrades, what a journey I have undertaken to get here. Those bastards have molded my physical body, but they will never mold my mind. For that is my own clay to sculpt."
Andre was never anyone special in his early life. His family had willingly given him up to make him into a soldier, for his father, and mother both displayed traits desired in the military. Those being a very strong build, and height for intimidation of the civilian masses. However the most important trait they desired was obedience, the parents had never dared to deny their government once in the past, and had given their previous son up just two years earlier with great pride to see him become apart of their beloved government. So began Andre's life, a child without parents, only instructors to drill him the perfect soldier from the first days of his life.
As a baby all the way up to the first days he could speak, he was raised much like a toddler would be. However where cartoons may be shown to teach a child elsewhere, instead he witnessed quirky propaganda films. Where bed time stories may be read, he was instead taught about what sat beyond the walls, and to hate those who didn't love the The People's Federation of New Eccelsia. His mind drilled, and constantly prodded to be molded into an obedient slave. Just like the thirty-nine other children that were around him, suffering the same fate. They weren't anything more than tools, they just needed to be crafted first.
His years from seven to ten years of age were much more eventful. Combat training began to absorb most of his life, with simple hand to hand being taught, along with some work with batons. When he wasn't busy trying to best his peers in combat, he was instead attending heavily censored classes. Meant to further instill his love of New Eccelsia. However these had a different effect on Andre, something in his heart never quite agreed with everything he was shown. Yet he was too young to figure it out, and too afraid of not being accepted to try and ask his classmates. He had long given up the term friends, they were simply competition in his eyes, as he wanted to be the best soldier.
Teenage years were the most interesting time for him, Andre's young mind finally grasping at its own self-awareness. Begging each step of the way, to oppose the ideals of the military. He trained each day, earned top marks in combat classes, and had some of the fastest times for disassembly and reassembly of weapons employed by the Federation. However his non-combat classes he began to score very low in. He'd lost focus in filling in bubbles, and obeying every order given. Instead he was more of a free thinker, his mind wandering during lectures, and in turn his test scores turning out lower at each semester.
Images of the military's way of dealing with those who opposed New Eccelsia, struck a different chord with Andre. Where his classmates might cheer, or smile at seeing a helpless civilian protester shot down into a lifeless husk. Instead Andre felt anger at this display, every fight he'd even been in, he was equal with his opponent. Man against man, fist against fist, rifle against rifle. To see a woman, a mother, shot down, and her baby having its rib cage crushed under foot of the advancing soldiers struck anger in him. Yet he knew, and he knew well he couldn't do anything about this yet. Not until he graduated, could he ever oppose these sickening policies.
Eighteen, graduation year. Just one last year of this disgusting regime controlling him. He counted down each month, down to each day on his calendar. Not in excitement, but in rage. His training no longer had classes, just combat training. Where he always had excelled. Running through live fire drills, clearing obstacle courses, doing simulated combat encounters. All of these, Andre seemed to perfect. His squadron, only ever lost a single simulated combat encounter against the instructors. Even against the instructors, they only lost, because it was a new course, only the instructors knew of. However it was probably a good thing, as it took away Andre's sense of invincibility, and made him more cautious of combat encounters from then on. Each day seemed little more than a blur toward graduation. Where he donned a fine suit, and beret to march in front of Generals, and Government leaders.
For a year or so things settled down, Andre was just assigned to a certain ghetto, to keep things in check. His small, "A-Team" squad from the academy, still with him the entire way. They just ran patrols mostly, and occasionally kept people in check with intimidation. This was life he could at least put up with for now. However soon an order came in, one quite cruel. A father had recently let his tongue slip against the government, and was reported. It was Andre's duty, with his four other squad members to slaughter the man, and his entire family, and relatives. As a sergeant, he was tasked to lead the effort. So with weapon in hand, a shotgun in this case, the Sergeant lead his men to the house of the so-called "traitor". In one fell swoop they had kicked the door in, and caught the father, his beautiful wife, and two young, fair-skinned daughters eating dinner.
Little hesitation befell the other soldiers, as the first two in the door gunned down the father, a hail of bullets ripping apart the man, into little more than the shape of a body, dripping blood out of gaping holes. The other two held back in gunfire, deciding to have some fun with the mother. However Andre finally snapped, he couldn't take this brutal display, as the men took to prodding, beating, and even worse with the mother. Four shots rang out, four shells hit the ground, and so did four bodies of soldiers. He had been too late to save the mother, who was barely holding onto life, just long enough to say goodbye to her two crying daughters. There was a hint of love in the woman's eyes, as she looked upon Andre, perhaps the one man that saved the two girls.
Andre was quick to abandon all of his equipment, aside from his pistol, and as many magazines of ammunition that he could carry for the gun. His uniform, a dark black and gray camouflage pattern , with a black beret being all he kept. Slipping the pistol into the holster on his hips, he walked with the two girls, holding their hands, as he tried to figure out what to do with them. He was just grateful the mother had managed to identify him a good man, instead of a soldier. Knowing the ghetto very well, Andre went to an orphanage, leaving the two girls with little explanation...he knew he was going to be forever hated, and judged. As the woman who accepted the two orphaned girls looked at him in disgust. Though he did tell her to look for relatives, informing her they would be alive still.
For the next year or so, Andre lived hunted on the streets of the city. He soon lost his uniform, and was walking in civilian clothing. The only thing he was able to hold onto, being that pistol, and all the ammunition for it. He refused to go down without a fight, and no matter what, would take as many soldiers with him as possible. However, his story soon began to spread. It was quite hard to explain, however the young girls tale of the soldier, who betrayed the others to save them both was told. Their relatives, their friends, many knew of it. Though it was whispered among the people. His way of defecting was quite a loud one after all, which didn't help his chances at hiding. Not until he was given a manila folder one day on the streets.
So began his life in Service to FEARLESS. A RONIN with countless years of experience under the Federation's military before evening entering the organizatio. He was deemed a very valuable asset, though one that shouldn't ever be trusted. After all, he still a soldier for that sickening regime FEARLESS opposed. His own call sign came from his slip-up upon introducing himself, when he called himself Sergeant Andre König. Of course this spread quickly, a running joke almost to call him Sarge. After all, it identified himself as a soldier from the Federation, but it also gave a note that he wasn't just another defector, he was one with experience, and knowledge.
For nearly twenty years now, Andre has served FEARLESS without question. Constantly offering his skills to teach other RONIN. He knew everything from hand to hand, to firearms. He of course was more prone to teaching discipline, and care. Each RONIN he trained, would know their weapon inside and out, and where best to use it. Each member would also know when to fire, and when to hold back. Andre tried his best to minimize casualties, and knowing how the soldiers would react, he could show RONIN how to exploit the federation's tactics with hit and run attacks, or ambushes.
At this current age Andre serves more as a body guard, he's lost countless men, and simply needs a break from his life of combat. He also still teaches new recruits that wish to become RONIN. But it's very, very rare he takes up combat missions. Though if its serious enough, he'll happily take up arms. But it's not often he'll just harass patrols. He'd rather spend his time breaking into an armory, than killing a few petty soldiers. That task is for the young, not for the old, unless no one else is free to do it.
There are still quite a few things that bother Sarge to this day. For instance the old man has met his brother, and in truth his older brother may detail his largest fear, which is the idea that more of his family fights for the government. The two sparred as comrades for nearly a month after Andre graduated from the academy. They traded blows, traded knowledge, and views. The two almost always butting heads on right and wrong. However one thing kept them connected.
They could equally match each other in physical combat. Each swing countered with perfection, each parry stopped by a counter blow. Truly it was a dance of giants, and grace. One that to this day remains in the old soldier's mind forever. It's the one thing Andre seeks, a man who can match him in equal, one on one combat. Someone truly that can oppose him, so far the closest man to that bill is Angsar...but Sarge silently hunts, and tries to track down his brother.
For the old man, knows he's still alive...and he wants to meet him on private terms, for one last fight. One last fight to decide who was truly better. FEARLESS, or New Ecclesia. This is the one mental battle that still leaves the Sarge laying awake at night. A silent scream trailing off his lips as he sits up in a cold sweat, to start training again. He won't lose this fight...or so he hopes. Perhaps it's his greatest sign of the fact he's bothered deeply by his PTSD. The rage induced grunts, and growls, that spill out when he wakes up at 3am, to train against a punching bag, or the wall.
Andre also is disturbed by the simple thought, he's likely killed many of his family members. Who ended up just like him, brainwashed into be Clerics. His parents, his brother, and everyone that was born after him were always highly desired for their physical build. Even the women of his family were built more for war, than any other job. It's a deep belief of his, many of his family are still used to breed future soldiers, which means he's likely, without knowing killed nieces and nephews, even cousins without even being able to try and bring them over to the side of FEARLESS.
After some battles, he can be found looking over the dog tags of some dead Clerics. Silently searching for his last name. Being an old German Name, it's quite rare. But he's found one, and that left him out of commission for several days. He rarely shows it, but Sarge fights to pull the trigger sometimes. It takes his mind shutting down to push him over that edge of consciousness. Andre fights like a barbarian, a rage taking over his body more often than not, to allow him to function like the mindless soldier the Clerics trained him to be.
There is still much to be revealed about his story however. Andre's mind has closed off much of his memories...it takes quite a good prod to wake them back up however. It's best not to try and force the sleeping giant's mind awake however, some of his memories reduce him to a crying mess, others put him into a rage beyond even his own consciousness.
PERSONALITY:
"A round of drinks for my friends, and a bullet for my enemies! FEARLESS we remain ever undaunted!"
Andre could be best described as the friendly old man. His smile, while always looking a little pained, is still welcoming. He suffers heavily from his life, yet instead of forcing his problems on people, or having mental breakdowns he tries to hide it. Behind a friendly face, laughter, joking, and so on. For him, his greatest joy is to make other's happy. Whether it be through a small gift, a well told joke, or just his usual antics. In his free time he's usually just found drinking, and is usually posted up near to high ranking SERAPHIM, RONIN leaders, or even a NOAH on rare occasions.
In combat Andre is much different, taking on a very serious attitude. There is no nonsense in combat. Each step executed perfectly, or if isn't, quickly corrected to avoid failure. Orders are yelled, or spoken, but they are never requests. He's like a machine almost, meticulously killing anything in his way, and completing objectives before reinforcements come to put him down.
"There is much I love in this world, and much that I hate. Perhaps it's best I tell you a few, so we don't have to disagree down the road."
Likes:
-FEARLESS devotedly loyal to the cause
-Drinking
-Physical training
-Cats
-Dogs
-Most non-reptilian animals
-Enjoys the company of others
-Fixing firearms
-Training new recruits
-Practicing with new weaponry
-Very old History Books detailing the various wars before his time
-Men and women alike, just have to catch in the right mood
Dislikes:
-Being alone
-Losing friends
-Disobedience
-Injury or death of innocents
-Corruption
-The People's Federation of New Eccelsia
-Training NOAH, for him it hits too close to home. He'd rather shelter them, but due to orders, he still trains them, begrudgingly. Though against orders, he'll teach them how to be kids, how to be young like he was never allowed to.
WEAPON(S):
"Dear Old Faithful, never leave me. Always hold my hand, through the war, and always stand by me when all else is lost."
A very aged, M1911 pistol, the one he has carried since he first abandoned the military. Where he has lost teammates, friends, and so on, he has always kept this wonderful piece of weaponry. It holds strong even with the hundreds, possibly even thousands of rounds that have flown through it. The .45 caliber always resting comfortably on his hip, the leather matching the aged slide, and the worn hand grips.
The story behind this weapon is one that spans years of use, it's killed more Clerics in its time than most young RONIN can ever dream of. It's reliable nature has kept it functioning for quite a long time. Whenever he goes out, even on the open streets, this weapon still finds a place on his body. For him, there is no greater choice. Only substitutes that would dare to oppose Old Faithful.
"Modernized weaponry. Certainly has a place in my hands, though I will always fall back on something reliable. In this case a 12 gauge shotgun."
A customized semi-automatic 12 gauge shotgun. Among his various tools of war, this shotgun is by far Andre's favorite piece of weaponry he's gained over the years. The SK-12 Shotgun functions flawlessly, and being supported by 10 round magazines it's quite good for room clearing.
His choice in ammunition tends to vary, from lethal Buckshot, a round that not many know why it's called that. To slugs, for the longer range engagements. He also carries a small stock of dragon's breath rounds, a round that can light a small building on fire, or even catch a soldier ablaze. It's mostly for fear tactics, than actual effectiveness against human targets, since the flames can easily be put out by just rolling around.
"When all else fails, I will attack like my ancestors, I will fight hand to hand, blade to blade. And hopefully I'll survive long enough to pick up a new rifle, and gun down as many as I can before I'm shot."
Finally as a last resort, Andre carries a combat knife. This weapon is his last defense when he runs out of ammunition. This blade is his life, when everything else is gone. For him, he holds as a best friend, and will happily charge at an enemy, in hopes of killing them quickly enough to get another weapon, or at least save those around him.
TALENTS:
- Skills (Combat):
-Close range firearms combat
-Breach and clear missions
-Hand-to-hand combat
-Heavy weaponry(Light Machine Guns, explosives, etc)
- Talents (Non-Combat):
-Care and cleaning of weaponry
-Able to drink most people under the table,
-Taking care of the young. A small passion of Andre's is to care for children, hoping to give them a better childhood than what he had. So he occasionally leaves for orphanages or other public places to read stories, or play games. Even offering some of the older children, those around sixteen to eighteen a chance to join FEARLESS so they don't have to live a life as obedient slaves.
"The Warpath is the only path I choose to follow, I only have a few good years left in me, and I will either slay the dragon that runs this land, or I shall die in a glorious fashion. Bringing as many Evil Clerics, and Paladins with me as I can. For I am one of the few knights to emerge in shining armor, instead of blackened plates."