| Migen | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 19 2010, 11:07 PM (106 Views) | |
| Deleted User | Apr 19 2010, 11:07 PM Post #1 |
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Deleted User
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Given Name: Android #35 Other Name: Migen Race: Type H Android Physical Age: 72 years Actual Age: 19 years Hair Color: Grey Eye Color: Black Skin Complexion: Copper Alignment: Body Type: Frail HISTORY The scientist sibling's Muto & Son grew distressed with the state of the world. They grew up in the mountains keeping track of the government's expansion and territorial disputes, using their massive supercomputer. They were not pleased, however they decided to place a little more faith in those bureacrats and their devilish red tape. After watching the near disaster of the demon assault on the KDF fields the maniacal brothers decided enough was enough. Gathering the remains of their salvaged equipment from the Red Ribbon Army's forgotten stores, the brothers set about performing their first noble act. Their goal? The solution to the planet's problems, an infalliable guardian for the people of Earth. Months passed and the boys at the Euphor province were growing antsy. Reports of scavenger caravans and men in strange black armor carrying blasters were cropping up more as of late. The brother's project was quite needy and many of their supplies had to be 'borrowed' from nearby cities. Usually these stores were under lock & key, so for the betterment of their fellow brothers in arms, the siblings staged niche terrorist raids. Reminiscent of Clancy's squadron based tactics, sixteen seasoned desert bandits lead by the younger scientist Son, burst onto the channel 6 news by 3 AM; lauunching tear gas and peppering militant vehicles with suppressive energy blasts. With the city folk in a panic, the team split-6 spearing the building with the other 10 scattering to the winds, in a desperate bid to separate the bulk of the cities forces. The results were a mixed bag, it definitely bought the Raiders much needed time to complete the Op but all of the second team was wiped out within the hour. As you can imagine the surviving Raiders had quite the problem with that. On the last leg of the return trip to base the Raiders and Son got into an argument concerning the divvying of funds. The Raiders wanted extra compensation for the lost of their buddies and Son was quite frankly exhausted of dealing with the pea brained sods. Shots rang out in the Badlands. By the time the dust settled 4 Raiders lay dead in the sands, leaving Son to limp back home a bloodied dejected mess, hounded by the rampant wildlife at every turn. Sleeping in snatches and by staunching his wounds with some scrap cloth, he managed to shuffle his way to the mountaintop lair. A sleepy Muto opened the door to find his crumpled Rigor stricken brother clutching the bag of supplies. Words cannot express the Elder's grief, he spent the night preparing a burial. The sacrifice, the remaining scientist mused, was not in vain. It was for mirai-the future of mankind, laid in the balance. Gathering his tools he went to the workshop hopped up on all kinds of energy drinks. He worked like a madman throughout the upcoming weeks only stopping when his wiry frame collapsed from lack of sleep. But in the end, three weeks later he completed his mechanical beauty, a type H synthetic energy drain android. The damnable crucifix for those bloody Ki-wielding bastards. Muto grinned at his marvelous creation, this is what he envisioned. The champion of the free world! BOOM! What? Outside he could hear muffled hover craft engines, 'My god, those tenacious fiends' The scientist rushed over to the keyboard and hammered down the buttons, he could not let them ruin his work. Not after all that they'd been put through, his masterpiece WOULD see the light of day! KA-CHUNK. Grenades and mortars were launched at the powerful titanium doors and within minutes his fortress was assailed on all sides. It mattered not, his petty FM droids woud drive them back. He only needed five minutes.. Beep, boop, SEND. The gigantic black screen quickly filled with all sorts of winding code, while it was streaming the needed information Muto was preparing for war. The bastards had killed his brother, watched as they let millions die because of their GREED. The KDFs should be distributed across every foot of this green planet but they wouldn't protect what was right because of FUNDING? 'Bakas....' Muto snarled as he slapped a 30 hollow tipped full metal jacket drum roll into his modified Thompson. He kicked the desk the diminutive android was lying on, the impact instantly causing it to spring to life. 'Wake up tin man!' The doctor hissed, giving it a hearty slap on the back. 'This is our time! We'll show those bastards what for eh? Eh?!' The android rose to its knees and stretched ever so slowly. Outside the sounds of laser fire were at their door, he could feel the vibrations under his feet. It was as if the laboratory was alive, the humming machinery its pulse, the shiny red robot to his right, functoning as the bloody heart. And he at the helm, acting as the white macrophage, fighting for his very life. 'Let the bastards come. Take a good look you governmeant scumbags, this is the best damn shot at salvation! Make way for the Hero baby!' Muto screamed pumping his fist in the air- just as the doors were blown off their hinges and his body was ripped to shreds by the incoming blitzkreig of enemy fire. What happened next can only be described as madness. Chaos in its most undiluted form. The toy-bot had moved with such grace, the gears in its tiny body spinning at mach speeds. By the time they'd noticed the movement it was already too late. Bones snapped, heads exploded, weapons were wrenched from lifeless hands, the Knight spared none. His ornamental blade swathed a bloody path through the hordes of decorated veterans, his shiftless painted eyes seeped evil and froze hearts. The very nature of his aura was cruel and malformed, this was the work of a tortured soul. This was the last wish of a dying man and it was carried out, with a vengeance. DRESS & APPEARANCE Migen is a very small android standing at about four feet, nine inches tall. He resembles those fancy little German nutcrackers, with the goofy Communist era fur-lined hat, and spiffy red military coat complete with a five inch bar of ribbons-all dating from before you were born. (Son had lifted them from an militay museum) His skin is a dark tan but changes to semitransparent blue once the Ki starts flowing or he is seen in certain lighting. His ears are skinny and jut straight up pressed against the side of his head like radio antennae, and they are sharp like little elf ears. The eyes are black and dull looking similiar to Rock Lee, with highly accented penciling around the actual sockets. The experiences of his makers have imprinted themselves all over the robot's frame, he is bony and seems malnutritioned. His hobbling step is that of an old man, though his militant posture is a stark contrast to the weather beaten vibe he gives. Aligning across his body are the eery red orbs of myths and legends, those deadly parasitic augments which give him the power to suck the very life from his opponents. The long grey mane and skeletal face, his awkward jerky movements, the robot looks as if it will drop dead at the hint of the slightest breeze; could this really be the last hope for the future? |
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7:26 PM Jul 10