Overview Agency Standards On File Agents NPCs Lore and Miscellaneous Invisible Inc. We are an elite group of spies with the expressed purpose of ending global corporate dominion, one heist at a time. If you have what it takes to become an agent, we will find you. Otherwise, stay out of our way. GM: @of Dirt CO-GM: @neptune Phase One has begun [IC] It’s 2074, and after decades of global warfare known as the Resource Wars, every government on the planet has been toppled and replaced by a corporation. Now that the corporations rule the world with the cold and ruthlessness that comes with the single goal of being the most powerful corporation on the planet, the world has become a depressing place to live. Invisible Incorporated, an agency formed in the middle of the Resource Wars, is the only entity left to challenge the dominance of the corporations and put the world back in the hands of governments for the people, by the people. Invisible’s agents are all master hackers and sharpshooters, and legends of espionage and stealth. With the help of their super A.I., Incognita, they’ve been slowly undoing the corporations’ hold on the world since the agency’s inception. Unfortunately, the corporations suddenly laid a devastating blow to Invisible’s HQ, killing and capturing many agents, and nearly destroying Incognita. Currently wired to the escape plane, Incognita has lost most of its advanced programs and is slowly dying. With what remains of the agency, they must infiltrate the top corporations to find out what they know and who orchestrated the attack, rescue captured agents, and above all, provide Incognita a new mainframe before it ceases to function. Incognita won’t last long, agent. You’re on the clock. It’s time to get moving. The fall of Invisible HQ to be written. 1) This is an adept RP, which means you are more than familiar with what GMing, PPing, and MGing are and how to avoid doing them. Your posts are detailed and provide your fellow RPers with enough to work with to provide a detailed post of their own. Your characters have depth. 2) Much of this story will be told through the interactions between our characters. Everybody needs to make an effort to establish relationships that are both good and bad. You're free and encouraged to plan these things out OOC with your fellow RPers. 3) I need a post from each of you once a week. If you can't post because you're waiting for somebody else to respond, post anyway. If I don't hear from you, OOC or otherwise, for more than two weeks, you'll be ejected from the RP and your character will be controlled by me and neptune to satisfy our bloodlust. 4) You're free to make a second character, but upon creation, they will be considered captured by a corp and the current cast will be sent on a rescue mission. Yay! 5) There can only be two of each class and one cyborg. An OP cyborg is easy to make. Please be extra careful to avoid that if making one. 6) If you have a problem with another RPer, please try to resolve it in a civil manner. If you can’t, we’ll probably eject both of you. 7) To those who happen to be familiar with the video game: I only want original characters. 8) I’m very patient, forgiving, and empathic. If you’ve gotten on my bad side, you’ve earned it and you’ll be ejected really quickly. (Bad) Voodoo (Hacker) Joker (Engineer) Zero (Brawler) Magus (Sharpshooter) Jackal (Ghost) Spectre (Ghost) Played by @of Dirt Name: (Bad) Voodoo Birth Name: Xavier Beltran Age: 31 Years of Service: 5 years Hometown: Quito, Ecuador Appearance: Xavier stands at 5’9’’ and weights 170, with an athletic build that he maintains in case of prolonged time on the field. He has musky, brown hair that’s just short enough to easily keep out of his eyes. Strands of early gray hair are noticeably present. He keeps his facial hair short and neat, but never clean shaven. Personality: Eccentric and daring, Xavier can come off as a man with nothing to lose, and it’s partly true. With his belief that fate has conspired against him, he has developed a defiant nature and an affinity for justice. However, he consciously puts on a front of being in the business only for himself, understanding that it’d be easily believable given all that he’s lost. Despite losing everybody he has ever gotten close to, he hasn’t become cold or unapproachable. He is neither numb nor accustomed to pain. Instead, his anger enables a remarkable will power, but also leaves him particularly vulnerable to recklessness. Class: Hacker Primary Augment: Viral Identification – A botched surgery. A sealable network socket at the base of the neck allows him to directly connect to most mainframe devices. It was originally intended to bypass viruses and other security measures entirely by forcing the device to recognize his mind as an admin, but it instead sends jolts of pain to his spine. Bummer. Upon further experimentation, he found that combined with his vast knowledge of viral programming, he can at least differentiate between viruses and other threats judging by the unique sensation. This allows him to determine what will happen when a device is tampered with, so he can explore other options. He often does this for fun with viruses he has engineered himself. Additional Augments: none Weapons & Tech: Neural Disruptor Several kinds of cords meant to be used for his augment and tablet A modded tablet meant for hacking and writing programs. 36’’ blowgun equipped with three 4’’ tranquilizer darts designed to put the target to sleep. Bio: Xavier’s life had been shrouded in death and misfortune. His mother died while giving birth to him and his father left him at a day care, never to return. He was adopted by a man who was an anti-corp activist and a part of the anti-corp underground, which was a secret organization of regular citizens that did whatever they could, with their limited power, to fight the corps. Once the Resource Wars was coming to an end, protests ramped up and the corps made more violent attempts to silence them. Ever defiant, his adopted father continued to openly oppose corporate takeover and lost his life in mass killing of protesters. The anti-corp underground raised Xavier as a collective, literally living in underground passages that nobody would consider looking into. The quality of living was bleak, but they had their lives. With nobody to call his family, Xavier wandered around as a kid and gravitated toward the hackers that worked there because they were the only ones that didn’t ask him to go away. They taught him little by little at first, but as his curiosity expanded, so did their teaching. He found comfort in having absolute control, even over things that didn’t belong to him. At the age of sixteen he became one of them, joining them in minor raids that earned them the money that kept the underground fed. He likened himself to Robin Hood. The underground started talking about an augment being developed that could bypass and/or reverse any virus it came into contact with. Such an augment would be invaluable against the corps and Xavier was adamant in having it for himself. Once it was developed, the underground stole the technology and worked with a trusted surgeon to have it installed. Just when Xavier thought his luck was turning around, the surgery was a mess and he was left with what he thought was a completely useless augment. He later found it allowed him to differentiate between viruses, but it still wasn’t what he signed up for. As his skills increased, the grind to keep the underground fed began to bore and frustrate him. He desperately wanted to do more than small attacks for chump change, but they didn’t have the resources for anything more. He fell in love with a girl after the war ended and convinced her to leave with him to another part of the world. He single handedly robbed a local corp of hundreds of thousands and didn’t want to continue living a meager life with the underground. Xavier was confident his skills would let him get away with anything. The night she went to pack her things to leave, she was struck by a drunk driver and killed instantly. After that, it seemed every single death in his life began to hit him all at once. He started remembering things that should’ve been impossible to remember, like the last time he saw his real father and what his mother looked like. Though the depression that followed might’ve crippled most people, Xavier’s training ramped up significantly and he began using his augment much more frequently. He got his hands on whatever virus and security measure he could in order to understand the sensation each of them provoked. He began to develop an odd addiction to the pain his augment caused. In 2069, the corps were causing severe damage to the Galapagos Islands, with their need for oil and over-fishing. At the rate they were going, the unique species on the islands would be gone forever in a year. The underground managed to rally the other underground organizations in neighboring countries to launch a single coordinated attack on Plastech Corporation, the biggest corp in the area. With a large firefight on the ground drawing attention, Xavier and many other hackers infiltrated one of their biggest facilities in an attempt to shut it down completely. Instead, one of their own defected and sabotaged the mission. The corp rewarded the traitor with a bullet in his skull and did likewise with the rest of Xavier’s squad. Many of them were friends, some of which he’d known since he was a kid—all killed right in front of him. He was kept alive for information and because they figured his augment provided an easy way to torture him. Despite the severe pain they subjected him to, all they got out of him was crazed laughter and fragmented ramblings about his past. Plastech dismissed him as insane and left him to rot in a cell, intending to use him as a lab rat someday. Invisible stumbled upon his cell by chance a week later in the middle of a raid and rescued him, despite appearing to be a broken man. IC Writing Sample: “I never doubted you,” Lissette said as life poured out of her in Xavier’s arms. “I was just scared of leaving. I was scared and ashamed of letting the corps run us out of our homes, but I know we could’ve lived happily for the rest of our lives, evading the corps at every turn. It would’ve been better than what we had. It would’ve been more exciting.” Her chest and stomach was drenched in crimson, every rib shattered, heart and lungs punctured and skull fractured. Xavier took comfort in knowing that she died before pain could have ever reached her. Five men staggered to where he laid with his lover’s body still in his arms. They were all part of his squad during the raid on Plastech. “Bad luck, huh? You’ll do well here,” Emilio said as he fell to his knees beside him. The rest of the squad collapsed completely, all riddled with bullet holes. Emilio was his mentor. He saw hope in a hopeless and lonely kid gave him a friend when he needed it most. “Hacking is all about becoming the master of fate. Not just your own, but of everybody in your way too,” he explained as the left side of his face began to rip apart—the result of a shotgun blast at point blank. The gaping hole revealed a pearly white jaw, shattered teeth, and a mouthful of blood that couldn’t be contained. “I know that once you get a taste of that, you won’t want to let it go. It’ll liberate you in ways that nothing else will,” he explained before what was left of his skull came crashing down onto the pavement in more pieces than one. “There’s tremendous sadness to be seen in the eyes of the children in an adoption center, but I saw more than that when I first saw you,” Victor, his adoptive father, said as he walked steadily toward him. “I saw anger. And it’s easy to turn to anger when you’ve lost so much. I lived in a world where governments looked after us and I watched it get crushed beneath the iron heel of the corporations. Hundreds of thousands died violently fighting. The corps, above all else, want a fight and they won the moment the world gave it to them.” He got on one knee and placed his right hand on Xavier’s shoulder. “Peace will win in the end and nothing good comes from hate. I’ve based my entire life on that philosophy. I just hope to God it has reached you in a meaningful way before it’s too late. Remember: la ira de la mente es veneno para el alma,” he said, gesturing to the top of his head, turning slightly to reveal a bloody bullet hole that penetrated clean through his cranium, from one end to the other. His eyes rolled into the back of his skull as he collapsed beside Xavier. Bodies continued to gather and collapse around him. Some he recognized, but there were many that he didn’t. A man in a long, black jacket watched from the curb. Blurry and obscure, the man was in a perpetual state of being unfocused. He was barely half-remembered. When Xavier noticed him, the man turned and began to walk away from the bloody scene. Anger and frustration welled up inside of him. He wanted to yell the words ‘why did you leave?’ but he couldn’t find the strength. Instead, he watched him fade away into the distance. Xavier awoke from the horrific dream with start, hearing brief screams of pain just outside his cell in the Plastech facility. He was uncomfortably shackled to the ground and there was a cord attached to the socket at the base of his neck in the event that the guards felt like screwing around. As his eyes focused on what was going on outside the cell, he quickly realized the two men stationed outside the cell were unconscious on the floor. A small group was infiltrating the area. “What do you mean the alarm was raised? That was a clean takedown, there’s no way those guards got a signal out,” one of the brawlers said over his comm link. “Well let me know when the lab has been infiltrated. We need to get out of here ASAP.” “Your hackers need to double check for security measures,” Xavier managed to say to him, despite his significant loss of strength in the time he’s been locked up. The brawler furrowed his brow when he heard him as he walked closer to the cell. Nearly everyone he had encountered that was in one of cells was incapable of speaking coherently or had some other severe handicap. They had all been heavily experimented on. “The consciousness of these guards is somehow melded with the mainframe. When they’re knocked out or killed, they know immediately. Alarms are raised and securities on devices are strengthened.” “You know, you could’ve used that info as leverage to get me to get you out of that cell,” the brawler said with a chuckle. “I’m fated to die here.” “That’s no fun,” the brawler replied, his eyes examining the cord attached to the base of his neck. “They using that to torture you? You’re not a lab rat; you’re a prisoner. You were part of the raid last week?” Xavier nodded. “I’m sorry about your squad. Listen, you seem to know your way around here. I can get you out, but you need to look alive. The team is not going to be happy if I bring them a dead beat.” “I just need a good hit from my augment and I’ll be good as new. But you should know that everybody around me dies. Everyone.” “That’s okay. Nobody here believes in voodoo. That augment of yours looks really inconvenient, by the way. What were you thinking?” the brawler asked as he forcibly unlocked the cell door. “It’s a long story.” Played by @neptune Name: Joker Birth Name: Arthur Blake Age: 46 Years of Service: Ten Hometown: Reno, Nevada Appearance: Just to look at him, Arthur is unassuming. His height of 5'8" is less than the national average, and his weight at 175 pounds is neither skinny or fat. With most of his time spent in his workshop, Arthur is often seen sporting a scruffy, five o'clock shadow, which is much more salt and pepper than his dark hair. Such long hours translate into little sleep, and there have been bags under Arthur's eyes for at least ten years. He has no tattoos or piercings, nothing more distinct than a pinprick of an old scar on the top of his right hand. Personality: By nature, Arthur is rather cut and dry and prefers to get straight to the point regardless of the subject. Never wanting to have his time wasted, Arthur often comes off as impatient, or even rude, but it's hardly intentional. While he spends most of his days isolated in his workshop, Arthur does like to unwind every now and then with the few close friends he has in life. Although he is difficult to get to know, Arthur is supportive and loyal for the right person. If asked, he has been known to dole out logical advice and doesn't mind others sitting in his shop while he works. Quiet company is better than none at all. Class: Engineer Primary Tech: Inductive Charging Gloves - Built for personal use, these super thin, durable gloves use an electromagnetic field to transfer energy between two objects. This allows Arthur to test his inventions in real time without wires, plugs, or batteries and helps him perform tests on future tech for the agents. Weapons & Tech: ∈ Neural Disruptor ∈ Master Kill Switch - Should any of his tech or weapons happen to fall into the wrong hands, Arthur has a kill switch that will render the device useless, usually through self-destruction. ∈ Portable Tool Box ∈ Agency Workshop Bio: Growing up, Arthur didn't have the best of anything. The son of a casino cocktail waitress and an underemployed mechanic, new and shiny things were a rarity in the home. Despite his lack of real toys, Arthur found other ways to entertain himself and could usually be found taking things apart just to see if he could put them back together. It started with little things--the telephone, a remote control for the TV--but gradually progressed to car parts and larger appliances. At twelve, Arthur completed his first invention and never looked back. Throughout high school, Arthur was serious about his studies and wanted to learn everything he possibly could. He excelled at math and science, earning perfect marks in advanced courses and eventually secured himself a full scholarship to one of the best schools in the country. Life looked up for Mark after getting out of Reno and going to school. He was doing well in college, made a few friends, met a pretty girl and when it was all over, he walked away with a degree and a bright future ahead of him. For a while, Arthur had it all--a good job making weapons for the government, a wonderful wife, a house in the nice part of town--too bad good things don't always last. A prolonged depression eventually lead to a lack of passion and an overabundance of alcohol, Arthur got sloppy, lost his job and walked out on his wife to return to Reno with just the cash in his pockets. He found himself in the casino, drunk, gambling his life away and not caring about what the next day brought. That was ten years ago, though, and thanks to the Agency tracking him down, Arthur found a reason to get his life together. His hand now lacks a wedding ring, but his glasses are filled with water these days, and although he is still a betting man at heart, Arthur would never dream of putting money on anything. IC Writing Sample: Basements weren't supposed to be hot, but the sweat rolling down the back of his neck said that there were exceptions to every rule. There was a water ring pressed into the green felt of the poker table. It served as a resting spot for his seventh or eighth drink, Arthur didn't know anymore, but he hadn't been counting for a while. The room around him spun slowly, making it hard to focus on the cards in his hands, or the six rough faces of the other men at the table. Five of them sat with their hands folded, mouths twisted into frowns and waiting for the next hand—maybe they would get lucky then. Arthur doubted it. Even plastered, he still knew how to count, and the pile in the center of the table was more than just money. A gold adorned a small mountain of crumpled bills, a ruby pinkie ring lay tucked beneath a five, and someone's heart medicine was off to the side, screw-top up and label unreadable. Arthur laughed to himself, a small exhale through his nose that jostled his shoulders. His collared shirt clung to him, damp like the basement air and just as uncomfortable. “Today, princess,” a man prompted from the other side of the table. He was thin with an angular face and a bare light-bulb overhead only made him look more sharp. His eyes were dark, unsatisfied as his long fingers flipped over a few of the cards that made up his last hand; a flush, he could have won. Half of the game was skill, there was no denying that winning took more than just matching colors and shapes, but the real art was lying. There were times when Arthur had bluffed his way into rent money, played with a clueless face and stolen the pot from every dumb son of a bitch at the table, but nothing felt as good as getting everyone to fold. It was an addiction in itself, the cherry on top of the incredible rush he felt whenever a hand was dealt. “What do you have?” the same man asked, one elbow slumped onto the table as aggression began to creep into his voice. “We don't have all night.” They probably did, though, Arthur certainly didn't have anywhere to be. “Alright, alright,” he relented, speech slow and slurred before he laid his cards onto the grubby table. The hand was a mismatch of red and black, a whole lot of nothing and the man beside him, large and wheezing, roared with laughter. Some of the other nameless, faceless men shook their heads, one cursed under his breath, but it was drowned out by the hacking cough of the laughing man trying not to choke on his tongue. Arthur had to guess that those heart pills he'd just won belonged to him—maybe he would give them back before the night was over. Across the table, the thin man sucked his teeth, his posture bristled and unamused. “What?” Arthur asked, shoving his cards back toward the dealer. “Everyone falls for it sometime.” His hand stayed outstretched, reaching and searching for the watch that was about to find a new home on his wrist. Maybe it was all the alcohol, or the satisfying rush of adrenaline that came with winning, it was certainly something that kept Arthur from reacting and pulling away when the thin man reached beneath the table and came back with a knife. The air stilled for a long moment, even the coughing stopped and the seven men could only stare as the history of that green felt table became a little more sordid, and blood pooled up from the wound and onto the money that Arthur didn't deserve. Played by @Huntress Name: Zero Birth Name: Zara Kadir Age: 28 Years of Service: Four Hometown: London, England Appearance: Zara stands at five feet and eleven inches weighing one-hundred and fifty-six pounds. Her body is something she maintains, knowing that to give it her best she needs to be her best. She doesn't care much for having an attractive body, she needs an effective one. Her hair reaches down just passed her shoulders and is straight. She typically wears it up in some way to keep it out of her face and from getting pulled. Her gaze holds a set of intense and slightly wild amber eyes. Several scars adorn her body Personality: Zara is a cold person. Due to her past she has learned to grow suspicious of everyone and everything. She trusts almost no one and to pass into her circle of trust is an insanely difficult task. She doesn't speak much but she will respond when spoken to and probably very minimally. She doesn't typically initiate conversation unless it involves work or there is a nearby threat. She takes what she does seriously and although she doesn't speak much Zara is almost always watching, studying, alert and being cautious. Zara currently holds a single personal relationship and it is strictly out of respect and loyalty. Any chance someone might get to catch her speaking to someone is when Zara is communicating with the hacker she is partnered with. Class: Brawler Primary Augment: A serum that was created in the infancy stages of a series of human experiments. Over time this, drug, for lack of a better term, was modified and adjusted to work and adapt to Zara's body and DNA. The corporation behind this was unable to fuse the chemicals to her which lead them to create a way for her to 'refuel' her system whenever it was required and remotely trigger the dosage delivered to her system. The refill requires two injections through man-made 'jacks' located at the base of her skull and the mid of her back. The serum is deposited into her body which can then be triggered through a device Zara wears or extreme anger. The 'refills' are required once a week. This 'drug' allows Zara to reach 'superhuman' levels of physical strength. There are three doses she can expose to herself to, they are as follows: A small dose lasts approximately half hour, upon deactivation Zara feels little drained and tired but she can still function fairly normally. An average/medium dose can last anywhere between an hour to a an hour and a half. After a dose of this size Zara gets fairly drained and tired. Making her sluggish and sore, still able to function but it's obvious she doesn't want to. And finally a large dose can last up to and several hours. Due to the effects of the serum Zara almost immediately looses consciousness after she is exposed to a large dose. It requires time for her body to fully recuperate from the strain she goes through both physically and mentally. Once activated Zara's pupils dilate as her veins protrude so the chemical can flow through her body faster. Zara enters an almost mindless state acting strictly on what needs to be done. This is an extremely addictive substance and feeling; it's not only something her body craves it is also something she wants to never shut off. Any time she activates this drug the withdrawal symptoms are almost instant upon deactivation. Additional Augments: N/A Weapons & Tech: Neural Disruptor 26-inch Expandable Tactical Baton Browning Hi-Power Mark III Pistol (9mm rounds, 10+1 mag capacity) SOG, Seal Strike Tactical Knife A watch-like device with a small screen that monitors the levels of the serum in Zara's body which also serves as a trigger and dose calculator for the chemicals that flow through her veins. Bio: Zara was born in London, England. Her mother was a researcher and her father was unknown to her. Not often did Zara see her mother as her work always forced her to pull late nights or go on research excursions. Any time she had with her mother she cherished deeply. Just before going into High-School as the American's called it, Zara's mother was offered a new position, better pay and apparently better hours, more time to spend with her daughter. The job was taken and the two found themselves relocating to the U.S. Her mother had been partially lied to. The pay was indeed much higher but so were the hours. Zara was forced to go through the beginning of the more important parts of her life alone. A panicked phone-call at the end of a hectic school day was where Zara's life took a turn for the worse. Zara's mother had refused to conduct specific research intended towards experiments that she disapproved of. The corporation she worked for didn't take no for an answer, doing whatever was required to get what they wanted, Zara was abducted. Although they could've simply killed the mother and daughter the company chose to approach things in a more, torturous manner. A panicked sixteen year old was strapped to a chair in a dimly lit concrete room facing a two-way mirror, a crying mother standing on the other side of the glass. An agreement was made and the research and experiments began. It was years of trial and error, close calls and a several deaths. Out of a selected twenty, Zara included, eleven had survived the beginning of the process. As the plan was to continue and perfect what they were creating, the facility was assaulted. Systems were hacked, guards were silenced and 'civillians' were evacuated. It all happened so quickly that Zara didn't know where it had all come from. She didn't have a chance to escape, she was taken from one cell to what felt like another but this time she wasn't strapped down, she wasn't forced into something she didn't want or didn't approve. She was spoken to kindly, properly, with respect. Zara's responses were short, after days of convincing and kind words being shared the raven haired woman found herself training to become an agent for Invisible Inc. IC Writing Sample: Fluorescent lights buzzed above. A smooth cold surface touched exposed skin below. On this table lay a young woman, eyes closed as she was currently unconscious. Three figures stood above her. Medical and laboratory machinery beeping nearby. Muffled voices slowly entered the ears of the raven haired woman. Her expression changed as she stirred on the table, a soft groan escaping her. She exhaled through her nose a moment before opening her eyes only to immediately close them. The people hunched over her barely catching a glimpse of her amber irises. The light that was shining above her had been too bright, it almost stung as she happened to look directly into it. Turning her head to the side she opened her eyes for a second time and was thankful that she wasn't blinded. Noticing the figure standing very close she grew confused as her vision gained focus. Her eyes followed the body and she looked up to see a masked man dressed for surgery. Shifting her head away from him she attempted to move but her body was restricted. As her eyes came back up to look around she winced at the brightness of the light overhead for a second time before looking around in fear and confusion. Attempting to release herself from the bindings she was in, a second time; she was still unable to succeed. "Miss Kadir, please. There is nothing to fear, remain calm, we will release you momentarily." The first masked man she saw spoke as he held his hands up to try and calm her. She looked around as the other doctors, surgeon's whatever they were, followed the other man's actions. All three stepping back slightly. Swallowing back in worry the woman looked around frantically what was going on here? Who were these people? What did they want from her? A PA system crackled feedback squealing for a moment before a static filled voice came through. It was a deep voice, a man she was certain. Clearing their throat they spoke. "Doctor Hoskins, please, proceed with the test." The voice sounded excited, intrigued as well. The three men that surrounded the table the young woman was strapped to all looked up in the same direction, there was something there that she couldn't see from the position she was in. "Eye-one Check." The doctor, who from what she gathered was Doctor Hoskins, spoke as he clicked away at a computer. "Jun, Smith?" "Eye-two and eye-three are on sir." One of the others responded. "Thank you doctors." Hoskins cleared is throat. "This is doctor Hoskins. We are beginning the testing process of serum en zee en dash two six four. Engineered for subject Zero's body. This will be done directly through an injection into the subject's blood; the dose will be small, to avoid any potential threats or medical issues." The man stepped away. "All vital's are stable, we can proceed with the injection." Hoskins approached the table and the young woman, also known as subject zero did her best to avoid him. There was nothing she really could do about his approach but that wouldn't stop her from trying. Gripping her wrist tightly the doctor was swift with his actions and she barely felt the needle prick. What came afterwards was something she would never forget. Her arm tensed up, the doctor stepping back and watching. Her blood burned as she looked down at what she could see of her arm. The veins across her body began to protrude as the burning grew intense and traveled along with what she could see. Eventually she could feel it in her head, her skull threatening to explode from the pain. She groaned against it as her breaths grew fast, sweat forming across her skin. Zero began to struggle against the straps that held her down. Everything was becoming painful, as it reached every extremity in her body she was doing her best to stop from screaming. Whatever had been holding her arm down soon gave way, a loud snap echoing through the small room. Grabbing the strap that ran across the middle of her chest she yanked on it. All she knew was she needed to get out, get out now. Doctor Hoskins approached her grabbing her arm he tried to pull it away from the strap it was gripping. Putting all his weight into it he was unable to pull her arm back as she went against his intended actions. Zero's eyes flicked from the strap she was trying to tear off, to the doctor who stumbled back as the strap broke. "Pupils are dilated, Jun, Smith she requires sedation immediately! Before she breaks out of the constraints!" Hoskins spoke as he pushed himself up. The other two doctors were quick to respond. The woman struggled on the bed, just a moment before she was able to free her other arm she was stuck with a sedative. It didn't immediately take effect as she managed to free her other arm. She grew groggy as she tried get herself out but before she succeeded her body and her senses betrayed her, falling back onto the table she was on, her breathing was fast, her expression showing disappointment, fear and pain before she let out one last quick breath and fell unconscious. Played by @Robo27 Name: Magus Birth Name: Kiritsugu Hajime Age: 24 Years of Service: 1 Hometown: Tochio, Japan Appearance: Kiritsugu is 183 centimeters tall and weighs in at 81 kilograms. While he he does not pack much weight and is pretty slim for his weight, looks are decieving. Most of his body mass is accounted for by muscle, while his body is not built like an athlete he is muscular to the point where his muscles can be easily defined through his clothes. He has the typical Asian hair colour of near black dark brown accompanied by the same coloured eyes. His hair, while not very long, covers his forehead and generally flows to the right. In terms of clothing he generally wears whatever he feels comfortable in, meaning it changes day to day since he can be pretty picky about what he feels comfortable in. Personality: Kiritsugu can be categorized as a heartless and void of morals type of person when it comes to being behind the scope, but when he is not looking down the scope of his favorite sniper rifle he is lively and outgoing and does not hesitate to get close with people. While Kiritsugu is a kind person at heart he is too kind. It is his double edged sword as he tends to sacrifice himself for pretty much anything. He is also selfless to a fault. When he is out on a mission he becomes emotionless, fundamentally becoming a robot. It is without a doubt a sight to be seen when he goes from being the kind outgoing Kiritsugu to a cold emotionless killer. Class: Sharpshooter Primary Augment: Enhanced Eyes- With the Enhanced Eyes augment he is able to predict the path of his target as well as his projectiles, practically controlling his projectiles like "magic." With this eye augment he is able to opt out of the use of a scope on a sniper since his augmented eyes allow for zooming. Additional Augments: None Weapons & Tech: Neural Disruptor Karambit FN Five-seveN with suppressor H&K MP7A1 with suppressor CheyTac M200 Intervention with suppressor Sage International M39 EMR with surpressor Custom Made Compound Bow with auto loader Custom Made Gloves Lock-pick Set Custom Made Katana, mainly a keepsake Bio: Kiritsugu comes from a rough upbringing. His family was falling apart from the day he was born. His father being a violent drunk and his mother being a habitual gambler, Kiritsugu didn't really have anyone to look out for him. For the first few years of his life he barely lived on a day to day basis, the basics for human survival were never available to him and there was never anyone that would give him the basic needs. It is surprising that he was able to live past his childhood. Once he became a teen he was better prepared to live for himself. With little interaction with his parents he went out of his way and fended for himself just to survive. He would steal if he was short on money, and would lie and cheat his way in order to get the upper hand no matter the situation. One thing that he picked up very quickly through these years was putting up a front in face of others to gain their trust. He would keep up the façade until he felt that they were useless to him and would then throw them off to the side. This was the foundations that he built himself upon. It was a tough world but he knew he had to be even tougher in order to survive. Tochio was a somewhat large town, it had a few shopping districts here and there and consisted of nice suburban neighborhoods to the down and dirty slums. Kiritsugu lived right in the middle, his family wasn't rich but they also weren't poor, but they were also not considered middle-class. They sat in the happy sad medium middle of the middle. He got into fights often because of where he lived and always got in trouble with the law for stealing. It is surprising that he didn't end up in jail in his high school years. One thing that Kiritsugu always thought to himself was leaving the town for good as it was just a place of bad memories. Once he was gone, he wasn't going to come back. While his childhood was tough and heavily deprived of the many things that any other child would have gotten; one thing that he was not deprived of was school and knowledge. While his parents were both dead beats, one thing that they did manage to do right was enrolling him into a school. Kiritsgu didn't particularly enjoy school, but at the very least he knew it would be beneficial for him in the long run, as such he did his very best and dealt with the endless years of studying, until he was graduating university at the young age of seventeen. He had his whole life ahead of him he was young, he was done with college with a degree, and could find a job in any IT department, but he felt empty at that point. The idea of living day to day life working for some big business seemed like the end of the world to him, he wanted more. He wanted to do something completely different, he wanted to flip his whole world upside down. This is where he fell down to the pits of hell. He began getting into the dealings of the dark side of the world. He quickly learned that the world was not what it seemed and it was easy for any one person to become part of this dark world. While it was not his original intention, Kiritsugu found himself as a lowly hitman for hire. It was not easy at first as his moral compass screamed at him at every turn. He always hesitated to kill his target and would draw it out but with each kill he became more and more desensitized to it all. While he had nightmares every night for the first few months he quickly accepted the nightmares as business as usual. It was not long before he had gained a name for himself as well as more skill, particularly with firearms. He especially excelled with snipers. Once he turned eighteen he was promptly visited by people who were clearly not visiting him out of courtesy, they were with Invisible Inc. and were clearly there for business. They made it short and simple they wanted Kiritsugu to work with them. Kiritsugu declined at first as he felt that he wasn't skilled enough, so he waited until he gained a few years of experience before joining at the age of twenty-three. Since then he has been working for them for the past year as their best sharpshooter. After taking on an augment after joining Invisible Inc. his skills with snipers raised by ten fold, and along with that he became known by the name "Magus." While that was the most notable thing to happen he also, in the year he worked for Invisible Inc. grew all his skills. Able to take on any and all jobs, but excelling in long distance assassination jobs. IC Writing Sample: 「Oh god please don't I have mon-」 Those were the last words the man uttered before the room was filled by the sounds of choking, gurgling and finally a thump on the hard concrete floor. Kiritsugu looked down at his hands and then the karambit that was tightly gripped in his right hand. The blade stained with freshly drawn blood. The smell of iron lingered in his nose. He immediately felt nauseous, it was not long before he collapsed his knees beside the lifeless body, throwing up the entire contents of his stomach, everything from breakfast to lunch. He was not done there he didn't stop until what felt like and endless amount of bile had exited through his mouth and onto the floor. He finally came back up on his knees and collapsed backwards, away from the vomit and the body. He lightened up his grip on the karambit in his right hand and allowed it to fall onto the floor with a metallic cling. He brought his blood stained hands up to his face and coverd his eyes, tears began to fall down his cheeks. He was mortified. He didn't know what to do, he felt sick to his very core and could not fathom what he had done.「I took a man's life didn't I...?」He moved his hands away from his eyes and stared at the one hand covered in the man's blood. The blood was still somewhat warm and the color was a dark crimson red. He had never seen anyone else's blood but his own. He was in disbelief, he actually did it, he ended a man's life. Once he calmed down enough Kiritsugu got up to his feet and leaned up against the wall. He still felt nauseous and to add to the fact he felt dizzy, it felt like the whole room was spinning. Each step felt like a leap of faith, it was hard to concentrate, various thoughts was flooding his mind, making him practically numb. He wobbled his way up the stairs of the basement into the hallway between the living room and the kitchen. He took two steps, put his back against the wall and slid down until he was sitting down on the floor with his back to the wall. It was at that moment the sound of a phone ringing went off. The noise felt like it was several hundred times louder than normal. Once he realized what was going on he reached into his pocket and pulled out the device. It fumbled around in his shaky hands. He managed to answer the phone call after what felt like hours of trying to figure out how the device worked, even though prior he knew how to work it with his eyes closed. 「H-hello..?」Kiritsugu's voice was shaky and no matter the effort he could not hide the fact that he was torn up emotionally and physically. The voice on the other end of the line completely disregarded the obvious cues and spoke with a hushed voice.「Did you get it done? Is..」The voice paused for a few seconds「...Is he...dead? Did you do what I paid you to do? I put a lot of risk in hiring a newbie like you I hope you know.」As the flurry of questions came Kiritsugu slowly tuned out he only replied with 'yeah' and once he heard the man on the other end say something about wiring the money over, Kiritsugu ended the call and quickly cleaned up the mess he made. Of course he vomited more bile every time he was reminded by the dead body. Once everything was clean and he had removed any all traces of him being at that house he made his way home. Upon arrival he immediately went into the bed room and collapsed on the bed. It was not long before he was fast asleep. The sleep was horrid that night he was always awoken by a nightmare which consisted of seeing the dead body and hearing the terrifying gurgling of the man choking on his blood as it rushed out from the the clean cut made by the karambit. It was the first of many nights to come for Kiritsugu. Played by Midnighter Name: Jackal Birth Name: Murad Ozil Age: 26 Years of Service: 2 Hometown: Sindh, Pakistan Appearance: Small and lithe, Murad is a whippet of a man all of 67 centimeters and 137 pounds. He's made of wiry muscle that he hides under shapeless clothes. He has a sharp face with elegant bone structure, and deepset eyes of a startling hazel green. Personality: Elusive just like his namesake, Murad tends to isolate himself. He's more than socially awkward - he is inept. People often try to pull him out of his little world but he selfishly keeps to his ways, preferring the safety of solitude. He is possessive and protective of anything he deems as his and has issues sharing. Murad does not make friends easily but the few he has have his complete loyalty. Despite his devotion, he remains suspicious always and never fully loses his guard against anyone. Class: GHOST Primary Augment: Chameleon Skin || Inserted behind left ear. || When activated, Murad obtains two extra layers of skin composed of latticed guanine nanocrystals and pigmented organelles. As the lattice of nanocrystals on the top layer are excited or relaxed, light can be manipulated do to the wavelengths being reflected or absorbed. The bottom layer disperses pigment and receives near-infrared light which allows it to thermoregulate. Murad can shift his skin to various different colors, patterns, or tints. It can be effected by temperature, his mood, and his environment. When activated he also receives a rudimentary third eye on his forehead that is invisible to most but takes in information and feeds it to his brain. This aids the transformation of his skin. The longer he uses his Chameleon skin the more exhausted he grows and runs the risk of damaging his body. Murad needs at least a few hours in between usage. Additional Augments: TBD Weapons & Tech: Neural Disruptor Pistol Assorted Blades Handheld Laser Bio: The streets of Sindh had always been torn by war. The people were numb to the horror of it and knew just how to get by. Murad took to the Resource Wars like a fish takes to water. When surrounded by terror and pain one of the quickest rising industries is always drugs. With Murad's natural abilities of stealth and speed he became a drug runner for one of the highest ranking gangs. It wasn't until he became hooked on one of the highly addictive synthetic drugs he was transporting that he decided to quit. Murad struggled his way through rehab and into sobriety to find a world that was no longer at war. With no education or credible job history of any kind he had no future. That's when he was scouted by an agent of Invisible. Murad readily joined, seeing it as the chance of a lifetime to do something good. IC Writing Sample: One face blurred into another as Murad stood at the side of the street gazing with unseeing eyes at passerby. He was fighting the buzz of need that made his fingers tremble and knees lose strength. Two years off of RABBIT and he still felt the jitters of addiction. Surrounded by strangers he could feel nothing but the urge to run straight back to the safety of the drug. A hand brushed against Murad's shoulders that were shrugged up to his ears efficiently dragging him out of his head. "You're losing yourself again." Murad tensed then relaxed at the sound of his mentor's voice. Creeper had been the one to scout him and was now teaching him the ropes of Ghost work. They were both currently tailing a target of Invisible. Throughout the day they would map his movements, record his habits, and learn his secrets. Tomorrow Murad would be sneaking into their target's home to extract the blueprints for a weapon of mass destruction. "I'm sorry." Murad apologized sincerely. He didn't want to let down this man who had laid down his honor to recruit a petty criminal like him. He'd say more but he knew the chances that he'd stick his foot in his mouth far outweighed his ability to truly enunciate his gratitude. Instead he focused on the mission. Together Creeper and Jackal melted into the shadows as they trailed behind the man with a shiny bald head and pressed navy blue suit. Keeping their movements quick but steady, the duo were a soundless well oiled machine of stealth. Played by @AFeatheredHat Name: Spectre Birth Name: Denis Lisov Age: 40 Years of Service: Three Hometown: - Unkown, Russia Appearance: Although standing fairly tall at 6'1'', Denis only weighs in at 160 pounds due to the artificial arms that hang on either side of his torso, lighter than real arms on account of their lack of muscle, fat and bone. A thin Y-shaped metal plate around an inch in size slightly surrounds his right eye, matching colour with his silk black hair and beard. Aside from the metal pushes from his skin, Denis like to wear clothes over his Personality: Denis isn't outwardly hostile or aggressive, but neither is he friendly or compassionate. Even before the years of running solitary missions for K&O he was apathetic towards mostly everything. Quiet and calculative is how he has always been, and probably how he will always be. Where most people find comfort in companionship, Denis finds it in serene silence. That's not to say he doesn't understand the importance of communication, especially on a mission. Class: Cyborg - Sub-Class: Ghost | Augments: Robotic Left Arm | Robotic Right Arm | Enhanced Neurotransmission System Robotic Limbs: As flexible yet stronger than flesh and bone. These mechanical arms are not battle weapons, but are perfectly suitable for hand to hand combat, as well as taking hits from heavy duty melee weapons such as bats and crowbars. However they are not indestructible, sustained battering or high impact damage could possibly shatter their protective outer shell, revealing the delicate maze of circuitry inside. Recommended further testing before attempted fusing on live subject. - Excerpt from Kelfried and Odin's chief Mechanical Augmentation researcher's notes. Enhanced Neurotransmission System: A serum injected directly into the central nervous system through the spinal cord. Possibly increasing the speed at which specific neurotransmitters carry information to and from various parts of the body. Causing information gathering, reading and sending information from the brain to increase in efficiency by an estimated 10%. Hypothetically improving reaction speeds by roughly 10%. Successful trials on human tests subjects remains negative. - Sara Lisov video journal excerpt, lead nano-augmentation scientist for Kelfried and Odin security Weapons & Tech: Neural Disruptor Military Grade Bolt Taser SAV 44 Long Range, High Pressure Tranquillizer Rifle [Non-Lethal] Bio: Born in a world at war, Denis was fortunate, or perhaps unfortunate enough to have everything provided for him as a child. His parents were both scientists developing new technology for K&O Security. Although of Russian descent Denis has never been to the country. Instead spending his child years at a Canadian research centre, being poked and prodded, scanned and analysed. He was twenty three when the Canadian government finally fell, and very much indoctrinated into the pro-augmentation way of thinking. His military career for K&O had started as a teen, no real fire-fights. But lots of training both physically and mentally. He was drafted for the Infiltrators, a special unit tactical squad who specialized in solo missions. Infiltration. Assassination. Information Theft. All in a days work. Continuous success under this unit led to the offer of an experimental Mk Unit, which he declined. The Mk units were mostly for open combat situations, which he wouldn't be involved in if doing his job right. Highly trained in subterfuge. The name ''Spectre'' was given to him by his friends and enemies. A silent ghost. He wasn't overly fond of it but it had stuck nonetheless, he even opted to use it as his codename after joining Invisible Inc. An unfortunate accident during a mission led to him being pronounced KIA. Though in actuality his body was recovered and used as a test subject for mechanical and nano augmentation. The experimentation saved his life but left him with deep mental scarring. Using his set of perfected skills he went MIA and was eventually recruited by Invisible Inc. IC Writing Sample: A small yet audible drilling sound pulled Denis from his unconsciousness. The smell of wet blood flooded his nostrils as his other senses began to wake in turn. A cold metal table held what remained of his body from the ground. Surrounded by men in white aprons, and machines, ready to cut him open. ''He's awake.'' A faceless voice called from the blackness. The drilling slowed to a halt but other noises could be heard now. Scurrying feet, muttering voices, why could he still not open his eyes? The drilling began again, this time accompanied by the feeling of an insect scurrying into his ear. He tried to shake it out but couldn't, tried to kick but found his legs unmovable. Hands slipped across his sweating face keeping it steady as he shook, the drill came with pain now as it pushed deeper into his ear. He tried to let out a cry but no noise came as he fell back into the dreamy haze he had woke from. The surgery continued. --- ''High Profile. Execute. Repeat. High Profile-'' The monotone orders repeated in Denis' ear from Infolink as he descended silently onto the rooftop from the chopper above. ''Copy.'' ''Charles Medina. 5 foot. 6 inches. Unknown weight. Anti-Drone. Anti-Augment.'' The young infiltrator listened as his orders were repeated again before the transmission line fell silent and he began to breach the building. Denis crept from wall to doorway as he pushed through the mostly empty offices, the men that he did come across were not trained soldiers and so he went unnoticed and unchallenged. Infolink began feeding to him again. ''Target identified-'' Denis listened and followed. Luckily a nearby surveillance drone had located his target and fed the information back to Infolink which was now in turn being redirected to him. It wasn't long before the target lay dead on the ground, a clean bullet wound to the back of the head was all it took. Denis stood staring at his work as blood dripped from the wound. ''Abort. Repeat order. Abort.UFO-'' The warning crackled through too late as the floor blew out from beneath his legs and the building collapsed in out itself, he blacked out as he fell. His body continued to drop the 10 floors to the ground before crumpling into a misshapen mess amongst the rubble. Name: Wraith Birth Name: Florent Bonsrah Age: 55 Hometown: Abidjan, Ivory Coast Class: Hacker Primary Augment: N/A Bio: Born into a rich family, much of his early life was easy going, despite the beginnings of the Resource Wars occurring when he was six years old. With his family’s ties to Plastech Corporation, Wraith didn’t learn much about the war until he moved to Paris to continue his education when he was eighteen. The riots on the streets inspired him to delve deeper into the conflict. The brutality and dirty tactics of the corporations led him to understand that their greed could change the world for the worst. As a result, he contacted his family to try and convince them of using their resources go against the corporations, but not only did they argue that a world without governments would be a better one, they revealed that their ties to Plastech were much tighter than they were letting on. His family renounced Wraith after revealing that he intended to fight against corporations in any way that he could. Without his family’s money, he decided that stealing from corporations would be the best way to pay for his tuition and begin his fight. The cockiness that came with his youth led him to take much more than was enough for his tuition. He gave much of the money away to anti-corp activists after throwing a few lavish parties, and no one suspected him due to his rich family. However, it wasn’t long before he started getting people’s attention. He received a message from a fellow hacker that called herself Trident, inviting him to join the European Intelligence Agency as an agent. He quickly accepted. With the EIA, the stakes were higher and he was constantly put to the test, but he quickly rose through the ranks. He was a natural on the field and an excellent tactician. Wraith and Trident became close. Some would say too close, given their line of work. Once the corporations were getting the upper hand, the leader of the EIA defected. Taking temporary leadership, Wraith led a mission to capture their former leader before he could divulge all of their secrets to the enemy. He executed the traitor himself. As the war came to its final years, it seemed increasingly less and less likely that the governments were going to win. Too many agents abandoned EIA for it to function as it used to, so Wraith and Trident founded Invisible Inc., unaffiliated with any government, to continue the fight. A year after its formation, Trident disappeared. Name: Trident, Hariasa Birth Name: Elise Amsel Age: 53 Hometown: Hamburg, Germany Class: Engineer Primary Tech: An advanced AI drone by the name of Syn. Before leaving Invisible, it was a capable scout that always watched Trident’s back. It could also rearrange itself into several tools and weapons to suit the situation. Trident had always been improving on Syn. Since her departure, the drone’s current capabilities are unknown. Bio: Trident had a fascination with technology ever since she was a girl. Nothing made her happier than getting her hands on the latest tech and figuring out how it worked. However, her less than privileged financial situation often got in the way. Her skills allowed her to have sizable income during her teenage years by replicating popular technology with cheaper material and selling it at a lower price. Sankaku Corporation saw potential and offered her a position on their drone program at the young age of eighteen. Though she vaguely understood the drones were to be used in war, she was politically inactive and put her own interests above all else. All she wanted was the money and to play with new tech. In just two years, her skills and knowledge grew exponentially, rivaling many experts in the corporation that had dedicated their lives to the field. And she didn’t even have a formal education. Unbeknownst to her, it became quickly apparent to Sankaku and its enemies that she was on the path to becoming one of the most influential engineers of their time, which made her a target. She was suddenly accompanied by security nearly at all times and was rushed to make deadlier drones. Guilt began to weigh down on her, especially as she learned more about the war, but she didn’t know how to stop the cycle. The EIA raided the facility she worked in urged her to work for them. They revealed the truth about Sankaku’s involvement in the war and that they were the ones who launched the first strike. They showed her emails exchanged between the CEOs of the corp, referring to her as Trident—a weapon used in the war. Though the name was a visceral reminder of what she was used for during her time in Sankaku, she continued to use it when she joined the EIA just to spite them. She stopped making lethal weapons and instead provided tech that supported more efficient methods of completing missions and facilitated cyber warfare. She was quickly crowned with the highest corporate bounty, dead or alive. Her freedom in the agency allowed her to develop the AI Syn, in an attempt to create the most human-like AI, without a human’s cognitive limitations. After the fall of EIA, Trident teamed up with Wraith to establish Invisible Inc. in 2049, but due a combination of guilt and philosophical differences, she left without a word or trace. Unbeknownst to Wraith, she had been selling him equipment for years under the alias of Hariasa. Incognita: Incognita is the name of a super A.I. developed by Wraith, meant to be the ultimate hacking tool against the corps. It can hack into any system without being physically attached to it and learns from failed attempts by writing new programs to combat new security measures. It’s high intelligence and capacity to learn quickly also makes it a great operator. However, in its low-power state, its abilities are severely limited. As long as it relies on being wired to the escape jet, it will only have approximately a month left to live. It has its current lifespan on countdown for everybody in the jet to see and will make an audio update every 24 hours. No pressure. Invisible Incorporated: Established in 2049 by Wraith and Trident, the agency launches highly coordinated attacks on corps when they least expect them in hopes of eventually creating an opening large enough for an all-out assault. The agency is currently led by Wraith. The Resource Wars: Hostilities had been growing between governments and corporations long before it hit boiling point and blood began to be spilt. The first blow had been struck by Sankaku Corporation in 2025, shortly after the release of their Akuma Drone. With threats by U.S and many others, calling for Sankaku to cease production of the drones, the corporation was forced to make a decision. Though they publicly agreed to cease production of the drones, five drones were sent in secret to destroy a jet carrying several top U.S officials. The drone’s destruction was so brutally thorough that it was impossible to prove Sankaku was responsible, so when the U.S retaliation came, the world saw the governments as the aggressors. In fact, it wasn’t until the conflict was nearly resolved that the prolonged fighting was called the Resource Wars. The rest of the corps joined the fighting soon afterward, arguing that governments were attempting manipulate the global economy in their favor through aggression. By the time the majority of everyday people realized the truth it had been too late. The conflict officially ended in 2057, after the fall of the Canadian government. Sankaku Corporation: Often referred to as the “Kingdom of Drones,” Sankaku has been at the helm of drone development for ages and remains at the top. The lethal capabilities of their drones have put fear in the hearts of governments since their formation, leading to attempts to hinder or stop them completely. They now lord over the lands they’ve won during the war with their deadly drones patrolling the streets. It’s territory is much of Europe and Japan. Kelfried and Odin (K&O) Security: Before the wars, K&O were major suppliers to any military that could afford their advanced armor and weaponry. They’re most known for their Mk armor suits, which allow the wearer to absorb a direct hit from an RPG blast. The suits are also equipped with scanners, greatly improving environmental awareness, along with methods of stimulating the user’s adrenaline. Sankaku and K&O became allies shortly before the wars, establishing themselves as an unstoppable force. Their technologies combined made the vicious Akuma Drone possible. Their alliance holds strong to this day. It’s territory is much of what was the U.S and Canada. Plastech Corporation: Not much is known about the corp except that they focus on neuroscience. Even Wraith, whose parents worked for the corp, doesn’t know anything more about them than his comrades do. Rumor has it that volunteers to be experimented on are never seen or heard from again. Some say the corp is privately funded by a much more powerful corp. It’s territory is much of Africa and South America.