Post by Ninmast on Mar 23, 2009 13:40:44 GMT -5
Name: Marcus Kyle
Age: 52
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Alignment: Neutral Good
Power Level: High-tier Low (3)
Timeline: Modern
Appearance: With a solid build that defies his age, the only real signs of his progressing years are his snow-white hair, cut short so that none of it was over an inch long, and beard, well-trimmed but not shaved, including the mustache, and a few facial lines overshadowed by a scar that stretches over the left eye without cutting into the aged, dusty blue orb within the socket. He's usually found in a dusty, blank t-shirt, a frayed jeans jacket and a pair of jeans that have seen so much mud and dirt that no amount of cleaning could return it to their original deep blue that had been reduced to a faded sky color by repeated attempts over the years. When his jacket is off, his arms can be seen to be very well-defined, as if he had spent his life doing heavy labor and getting in bar fights, though his demeanor doesn't make such an impression easy to excuse.
Personality: The years have tempered Marcus' attitude and mellowed him out a great deal from what he had been in his prime. He takes things in stride, going through what he needs to do in a day without complaint and ignoring most chaos around him, going so far as to ignore a bar fight happening around him unless something goes too far or it somehow comes to directly involve him. In most cases, he seems gentle and nonviolent, refraining from stirring stuff without reason. If a friend is in need of a helping hand, however, that's enough reason for him, though he still takes a lazzaiz-faire approach to the fight, itself.
History: Marcus doesn't talk about his history, though there's plenty of rumors flying about concerning him. He laughs most off and shrugs off others without giving credence to any of them. One of the most prevailing ones is that back in some war or another (the exact one varies from one story to the next, though the present popular one is Vietnam), he was Sergeant Kyle or First Lieutenant Kyle or First Sergeant Kyle, in charge of some secret ops squad or another, leading unofficial deep-line missions. Sometimes the rumor says that there wasn't even a squad, that it was just him, going in solo and coming out, sometimes days later, with a string of ears and no blood of his own on him. He just attributes such stories to those that've picked fights and lost, trying to cover up their own shortcomings. Losing to an ex super agent sounds better than losing to an old cattle driver.
Some of the rumors, however, are particularly detailed, telling grandiose tales of him going deep into Russian territory and wrestling a massive man twice again as heavy as he was and strangling the life out of the trunk-like neck with his bare hands. Another favorite is that on a mission into China, a woman that was an agent for the other side wooed him into bed and struck at him when his guard was down, resulting in the gash over one eye and her getting thrown over the room's balcony in the resulting struggle. In response, he just laughs it off as them watching too many spy movies and says it was for getting a handful of an unwilling waitress when he was younger.
Whatever the truth of his history, he left it behind for the life of a farmer and cattle man, growing crops and raising cows that he tends to every day and brings up for market every season without fail, even though he lives out on his ranch on his own. To the knowledge of anyone, he's never been married and has never had any children.
Abilities: Though he claims his skills are rusted from what they used to be in his prime, their effectiveness cannot be argued. He tends to play them down and refrain from really using them, but he's shown incredible physical prowess and melee combat skills, and he's the record holder in the local dart competition. Nobody local dares try to make off with his cattle or anything else on his property, not since one group tried and he dropped two of them with a hunting rifle from a thousand feet while sitting on his front porch before they could scatter back into the tree line. When the sheriff showed up and asked how many shots he fired, Marcus said three.
"You miss?"
"Warning shot," he corrected.
"The boy was missing an ear when we brought him in."
"Yeah, I figure that makes for a pretty good warning."
Equipment: Nothing specifically at a given time, as he doesn't actually carry anything on him regularly.
Weakness: Besides all the normal human weaknesses, Marcus is getting up in age and his endurance isn't as great as it once was. Long, drawn-out, violent conflicts can leave him winded and overstress his body.
Age: 52
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Alignment: Neutral Good
Power Level: High-tier Low (3)
Timeline: Modern
Appearance: With a solid build that defies his age, the only real signs of his progressing years are his snow-white hair, cut short so that none of it was over an inch long, and beard, well-trimmed but not shaved, including the mustache, and a few facial lines overshadowed by a scar that stretches over the left eye without cutting into the aged, dusty blue orb within the socket. He's usually found in a dusty, blank t-shirt, a frayed jeans jacket and a pair of jeans that have seen so much mud and dirt that no amount of cleaning could return it to their original deep blue that had been reduced to a faded sky color by repeated attempts over the years. When his jacket is off, his arms can be seen to be very well-defined, as if he had spent his life doing heavy labor and getting in bar fights, though his demeanor doesn't make such an impression easy to excuse.
Personality: The years have tempered Marcus' attitude and mellowed him out a great deal from what he had been in his prime. He takes things in stride, going through what he needs to do in a day without complaint and ignoring most chaos around him, going so far as to ignore a bar fight happening around him unless something goes too far or it somehow comes to directly involve him. In most cases, he seems gentle and nonviolent, refraining from stirring stuff without reason. If a friend is in need of a helping hand, however, that's enough reason for him, though he still takes a lazzaiz-faire approach to the fight, itself.
History: Marcus doesn't talk about his history, though there's plenty of rumors flying about concerning him. He laughs most off and shrugs off others without giving credence to any of them. One of the most prevailing ones is that back in some war or another (the exact one varies from one story to the next, though the present popular one is Vietnam), he was Sergeant Kyle or First Lieutenant Kyle or First Sergeant Kyle, in charge of some secret ops squad or another, leading unofficial deep-line missions. Sometimes the rumor says that there wasn't even a squad, that it was just him, going in solo and coming out, sometimes days later, with a string of ears and no blood of his own on him. He just attributes such stories to those that've picked fights and lost, trying to cover up their own shortcomings. Losing to an ex super agent sounds better than losing to an old cattle driver.
Some of the rumors, however, are particularly detailed, telling grandiose tales of him going deep into Russian territory and wrestling a massive man twice again as heavy as he was and strangling the life out of the trunk-like neck with his bare hands. Another favorite is that on a mission into China, a woman that was an agent for the other side wooed him into bed and struck at him when his guard was down, resulting in the gash over one eye and her getting thrown over the room's balcony in the resulting struggle. In response, he just laughs it off as them watching too many spy movies and says it was for getting a handful of an unwilling waitress when he was younger.
Whatever the truth of his history, he left it behind for the life of a farmer and cattle man, growing crops and raising cows that he tends to every day and brings up for market every season without fail, even though he lives out on his ranch on his own. To the knowledge of anyone, he's never been married and has never had any children.
Abilities: Though he claims his skills are rusted from what they used to be in his prime, their effectiveness cannot be argued. He tends to play them down and refrain from really using them, but he's shown incredible physical prowess and melee combat skills, and he's the record holder in the local dart competition. Nobody local dares try to make off with his cattle or anything else on his property, not since one group tried and he dropped two of them with a hunting rifle from a thousand feet while sitting on his front porch before they could scatter back into the tree line. When the sheriff showed up and asked how many shots he fired, Marcus said three.
"You miss?"
"Warning shot," he corrected.
"The boy was missing an ear when we brought him in."
"Yeah, I figure that makes for a pretty good warning."
Equipment: Nothing specifically at a given time, as he doesn't actually carry anything on him regularly.
Weakness: Besides all the normal human weaknesses, Marcus is getting up in age and his endurance isn't as great as it once was. Long, drawn-out, violent conflicts can leave him winded and overstress his body.
