Post by Capt. Richard Arnold on Apr 7, 2014 19:08:21 GMT -6
Captain Richard Douglas Arnold
30//Male//Straight//Human//SPECTRE Agent//Eric Bana
POWER INFO: Richard has a supernatural affinity for kicking people’s asses. He did not need to become a metahuman to acquire this ability. He did, however, go through special forces training, and he continues to train as much as possible to stay in special-forces-level shape. He has almost a decade of counterterrorism experience as a green beret.
September 11, 2001. He remembered that day in vivid detail. The announcement on the intercom. The stunned silence. The way his class piled into the classroom next door so that they could look at the TV. It was standing room only. He couldn’t take his eyes away if he wanted to. His uncle was in one of those towers. He thought he saw him on TV, briefly, throwing himself out of a window.
Until that day, he thought he was going to go to college. After that day, he knew that he had a higher calling. The same calling that his father had, and his grandfather, and his great grandfather. Time spent working on college applications was time wasted, he knew. He needed to get in shape. By the time he graduated from high school, he had already enlisted with the Army.
* * *
2006. “What are these, Linda?”
“Divorce papers. You can read.”
Richard stared at them again. He didn’t say anything for a while. If he was honest with himself, he had been expecting this. He tried to be there for his wife, for his infant son, but he couldn’t. Not really. Even when he was at home, his mind was still in the Middle East. This house where he lived, this life he had with Linda when he was off-duty, none of it felt real to him.
He took a deep breath, let it all out in a sigh. He was a shitty husband, a shitty father. He shouldn’t have tried to be those things in the first place. He knew it wouldn’t have worked. “Fine.” His wife, his son, they deserved better than what he could give.
* * *
2010. Lt. Arnold knew that he had to work with these people, these Arabs, but he could never trust them. Not really. These villages were a breeding ground for terrorists. See those kids outside of the hummer, there? Arnold was willing to bet that, a few years down the line, those same kids would be learning how to set up roadside IEDs, or smuggle explosives into embassies, or fire rocket-propelled grenades at vehicles like this one. The head of their mosque was probably covering for more terrorists than he had fingers to count them on, no matter what he said or how much he tried to prove they were on the same side.
He had to work with these people, because it was part of the job description. It even turned out useful, sometimes. But he hated it. No matter what the brass said, he knew in his heart that these people were the enemy. If he had his way, and if those idiot politicians didn’t care so much about “human rights" (what a joke!) he’d be able to torture the information he needed out of these people and track down the assholes they really needed to get rid of. If they’d just started doing that kind of thing in the first place, this war would already be over.
But Richard was a good soldier. He’d do this one by the book, just like he always did. Nodding to the man in his unit who could speak with these savages, they got out of the hummer.
Until that day, he thought he was going to go to college. After that day, he knew that he had a higher calling. The same calling that his father had, and his grandfather, and his great grandfather. Time spent working on college applications was time wasted, he knew. He needed to get in shape. By the time he graduated from high school, he had already enlisted with the Army.
* * *
2006. “What are these, Linda?”
“Divorce papers. You can read.”
Richard stared at them again. He didn’t say anything for a while. If he was honest with himself, he had been expecting this. He tried to be there for his wife, for his infant son, but he couldn’t. Not really. Even when he was at home, his mind was still in the Middle East. This house where he lived, this life he had with Linda when he was off-duty, none of it felt real to him.
He took a deep breath, let it all out in a sigh. He was a shitty husband, a shitty father. He shouldn’t have tried to be those things in the first place. He knew it wouldn’t have worked. “Fine.” His wife, his son, they deserved better than what he could give.
* * *
2010. Lt. Arnold knew that he had to work with these people, these Arabs, but he could never trust them. Not really. These villages were a breeding ground for terrorists. See those kids outside of the hummer, there? Arnold was willing to bet that, a few years down the line, those same kids would be learning how to set up roadside IEDs, or smuggle explosives into embassies, or fire rocket-propelled grenades at vehicles like this one. The head of their mosque was probably covering for more terrorists than he had fingers to count them on, no matter what he said or how much he tried to prove they were on the same side.
He had to work with these people, because it was part of the job description. It even turned out useful, sometimes. But he hated it. No matter what the brass said, he knew in his heart that these people were the enemy. If he had his way, and if those idiot politicians didn’t care so much about “human rights" (what a joke!) he’d be able to torture the information he needed out of these people and track down the assholes they really needed to get rid of. If they’d just started doing that kind of thing in the first place, this war would already be over.
But Richard was a good soldier. He’d do this one by the book, just like he always did. Nodding to the man in his unit who could speak with these savages, they got out of the hummer.
SAMPLE: (see Chloe Black. Alternatively, see above. Alternatively, mock me for being lazy and not writing a sample RP for this schmuck.)
USERNAME: Kait
AGE GROUP: University student
EXPERIENCE: Been doing forum-based roleplay for 4 years, with tabletop roleplay on and off for 5.
USERNAME: Kait
AGE GROUP: University student
EXPERIENCE: Been doing forum-based roleplay for 4 years, with tabletop roleplay on and off for 5.