Post by Killshot on Mar 7, 2012 20:19:17 GMT -8
THE PLAYER
Main Account: Irobashi
Other Characters: Charrie Log------------------------------------------------------------------------------WHO ARE YOU?
Name: Killshot
Nicknames: Drone 1o-YTS
Age: A month
Gender: Femme
Route: N/A
Alignment: Decepticons
Status: Awaiting commands
Stats
Strength: 3
Intelligence: 10
Courage: 9
Firepower: 7 [ In alternate form when in use of wielder. ]
Speed: 10
Rank: 2
Endurance: 3
Skill: 9------------------------------------------------------------------------------THE DETAILSShe has a very unique and interesting build. Her face would stop just about anyone with a good heart to try and reason with this pupil on who they are and what they could be. With large shining optics of pinkish purple, they look up at you constantly with the sense of an innocent child who is lost in the world and missing their parental figure of whom they love most which just makes it hard to fire at. To add onto it, she's only 6.7 feet tall with a thin, cat-like figure including cheetah-looking receptors that always face back to watch out behind her. These receptors sense motion, not sound, she has separate audio receptors. Her main color is light grey with silver and grey as the metallic. Her legs above the knee joint look like proper sized humanoid legs, then the knee joint stretches down into bulky pump systems and below it, thin ankles that connect to small back paws. Her arms are a bit bulkier so when throwing a punch to try and make a hole to start tearing something up, it aids her most of the time.------------------------------------------------------------------------------YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU'RE DEALING WITH
Likes:
- Conveniently acquired upper hand moments.
- Being shown how to do new things she could use.
- Automatics, machine guns, quick fire, sniping.
- Spying without being caught.
- Putting the enemy in harms way before leaving them to their doom.
- The fact that near everything has a loophole.
- Puzzles and paradoxes.
- Achieving the cracking of yet another problem.
Dislikes:
- Losing track of the one she stalks and or becoming the hunted.
- Being unable to avoid her own demise.
- Balloons
- Others trying to pick a bone with her.
- Being seen as only a replaceable toy.
- The crippling programming weighted on her shoulders.
- Being told that she does not technically exist.
Personality: This pupil hasn't full yet developed her personality, just having been brought into existence and all. She's just experiencing new life and so far shows mainly curiosity, and an interest in weaponry as well as throwing it at others. She doesn't seem to know much about manners and how things work yet, though she has grasped language and understands some of what she's talking about. When you get to know this small Minicon, you'll discover she's a fast thinker.
Being curious and interested in so much that she'd like to learn about, she memorizes and takes note on about everything she finds worthy of such. It's also a hassle for her though since curiosity will kill the cat. She has the tendency to shut off danger sensing logic to go in and check something out that caught her interest. Being afraid of everything isn't really in this Con's favor, so she tends to take a chance and do what she pleases. As for who she obeys? She has only complete obedience for Deadaim so far ( or well, had ) , and used to question him about subjects that came across her mind in order to find out more. When it came to it she doesn't have a choice, she willingly obeyed Deadaim, programmed that she is merely a tool. She is not real life nor will she ever be worth it.
This little sociopath cares not who you are. The adorable, harmless looking Killshot is the one who caused the explosion which has trapped you and your friends in what is to be your demise. After beheading the last, coldly, almost as if her mono-toned typical robotic voice was amused, she'd end the night with "mission, complete" . Unless you're programmed into her memory core as someone who should not be killed, you're fair game. Never fret, she's programmed to only kill if you either get in here way or if she's ordered to do so.
Still, you'd think as this newly awakened Minicon as empty pages to be filled. It would most likely depend on who mentors her with how she turns out, so assign wisely.
Strengths:
Teaching her certain things such as hacking is a breeze. Whether you mean to or not. Often she'll stick around and watch from behind, taking in all and how it is done. What to watch out for, how to go about it, how to intercept and cut off attack, how to initiate a prejudice response.
One great advantage would have to be how her Spark and body are separated. Unknowingly, she does indeed possess a Spark and it was left behind in Deadaim's lab. The scientist had intended to use this against her, much like a voodoo for the fun of it. He could toy with her and then take her life like many of the others before moving onto other projects once he lost interest in Killshot. Her body, her vessel, can be destroyed countless times in battle, but with her oddly placed Spark out of harm's way, she is deemed safe and liable to return.
If her body is wrecked, how is it that she still seems.. There? When it's rebuilt, she's just, there? Killshot has a regeneration ability such as Deadend, though, slowed in comparison, and only to a certain extent. Her main systems take seventy percent of repairs and the rest of her frame, fifty four percent. Why not the whole packaged deal? It is quite difficult to do so while being so far apart from her soul and being, her Spark. The regeneration process is slowed and seems to be her only real fail safe when it comes to trying to find her way back for repairs.
You could say she has the beginning understandings of processor over mind, just brushing the entrance of it. Making herself calm is quite the easy task, cursed programming aiding or not when it comes to suppressing many of her emotions. Zen is obtained with little effort in the most chaotic of situations. She still has just as much ease with cracking files and picking through solutions to minor and major problems when it would appear many others could think of nothing more than what is currently taking place around them. Patience, one thing she can have forever, depending on whether or not she believes the one who is harassing her deserves punishment.
Joint control. You could definitely call her a well achieved body contortionist when it comes to how she easily moves about no matter the obstacle. Killshot has the ability to dislocate every joint in her body in order to better fit through something. Such brings no pain to her and the owners of said joint are clicked back into place afterward as if nothing ever occurred.
Weaknesses:
A very odd fear, that of balloons. She finds them invasive, pointless, and loud when the pop. Killshot can't explain it really, nor does she want to discuss it. She only asks that balloons stay away from her. When looking down at the little rubber/plastic bags containing air, she thinks of one of the tests Deadaim performed with a balloon, though, of entirely different material. Turret can and does feel pain, he wanted to see just how fast of a learner she was. Let's just say, she picked up pretty quick that if you see a balloon, it's likely to explode and the force will rip you apart.
Telling her she does not exist with a supportive argument tends to freak this small, unique drone out quite a bit. To her, she is not alive. She is in a vessel, a robotic body. If one were to argue that she HERSELF does not exist and that she is a merely an it, a program functioning inside an empty body with it, it tends to make her twitch a bit on the inside. She must exist. When the body is destroyed, she is still there, somehow, she exists. How can she not be there if she does not exist? Programs don't feel emotion, do they? They cannot fear, they cannot feel dislike or sadness. They cannot possess the personality qualities and what individuality that she does have... Right?
The fact that at this very moment, the only emotions she may experience are sadness, fear, and the ability to dislike something. This can be fixed of course with some well skilled tweaking within the programming in her processor. Likely if she were given free will however, she wouldn't know what to do with it. Likely, she would still obey the one she has been 'given' to and Megatron himself. At this current moment, she doesn't have a choice on her fate or where it will take her.
Her low endurance and strength have a play in on weakness. Whilst she is incredibly quick with a flash of agility and reflex, Killshot is not a hard Minicon to kill once you actually get a hold of her.
If ever allowed to feel emotion, she would not be able to show it. Her face remains in stone, as does her voice which sounds very dry in tone and rather robotic. When it comes to body language, she is very still. She can be relaxed, showing some energy, or in an attack mood. Those are as close as it gets.------------------------------------------------------------------------------THE SKELETONS IN YOUR CLOSET
Family:
History: Killshot’s taste of life has yet to pass three weeks and six days. Deadaim, the scientist mech that was responsible for Deadend’s mutation and further progressed poor mental state, created Killshot for his own entertainment and purposes. Deadaim was once somewhat more sane, though one trait he always had possessed was his lack of empathy when it came to others. He obeyed orders, building and creating for Megatron’s forces, looking to counter attack other weapons that the Autobots might of come up with. Killshot’s physical appearance was a design, in his mind, meant to appear vulnerable. As if he thoroughly enjoyed picking on the helpless, the defenseless, running experiments on them as he had done with the horribly injured Deadend and many others likes him. Few survived, normally only if they could escape. Many died to feed his need to bypass boredom. He couldn’t think straight anymore nor could he see reasoning and logic in the correct forms of reality. He respected ranks and their orders very little if at all, at times forgetting the world outside existed for anything more than to feed his addictions for experiments.
Killshot was created for two reasons; to fend off boredom with his old hobbies and to create something that could cause harm to The Nemesis. Training had begun though Killshot knew not of what it was for. The young drone was told nothing about his intentions of putting her up against those that would be rather pissed that their flying home was under attack.
She was to remain silent in her cell, in stasis when ordered. Said commands she could do nothing of, her programming was strict down to the point that if Deadaim did not wish for her to blink, she would have to rip her optic shutters off in order to prevent the action’s possibility. He was an insane and twisted mech, often time laughing at a few things that Killshot would obey without question, perking her curiosity and raising her own thoughts against him. When he built her, when he programmed her, he did not look at all of the risks and dangers that he should have taken precautions against. The programming did not say anything against forming her thoughts and opinions, so far, she was loyal to no one, she was just there, and she didn’t like that. It was almost a curse, a punishment for a wrongdoing that she did not earn, that he prevented her from showing her emotion through face and voice. Her speech was dry and robotic, and often times, her overall manner seemed calm. The forceful programming prevented her from feeling happiness, anger, disgust, and love. What it did not stop, one he planned, fear, and the other one he hadn’t cared for or counted on, sadness. Sadness often could lead to other things, though he himself avoided it, biding his time with experimentation to avoid it and had not bothered taking the effects into account like it had with Deadend.
“You are not alive, you’re a weapon, my toy. The Decepticon drone troopers are superior to you. You’re a thing, my thing. Property, nothing more. You’re built to serve me until you’re destroyed and melted down into spare parts. Understand? Keep quiet or I’ll remove what ability you do have for speech.” Sadness was something that did set in, often times when she was alone in the silence and had nothing more to do other than stand in wait for the next round of experiments. She was a tool, nothing more.
One of the experiments/training she had undergone was one that involved balloons, something she fears greatly now. She had been placed in a maze like room, different levels, different structures, and she had to avoid both the gunfire and balloons placed about. From explosive cannon blast to chainguns, she darted about them all, destroying their sources. When the seemingly harmless floating balloons came along, her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She was not supposed to touch the invasive traps, nearly filling the entire room. For once bothered, it sent off a chain reaction of them all. Corrosive acid spit all over the place, the force sending her form one explosion to the next, tearing her apart, whilst the acid ate away at her body. The pain was the worst that she had felt so far, and the ‘death’ of her current body felt slower than ever, unable to do anything other than ride what she had brought onto herself. Something helpful, what he had used on Deadend himself, Killshot regenerated eventually. At times, she could use a bit of help of repairs seeing as how hers was much slower. Her shriveled remains at the end were watched by Deadaim’s screen disapprovingly, eventually and painfully, enough of her form had regenerated though appeared to be failing and dying. He was forced to perform a few repairs, this one had not taken the modifications as well. It would appear enough regenerated for the vessel to still exist, but at a point, it ceased. Only enough of it there to support the function and power of movement for a short lived escape. That much was good, she could pick herself up, maybe, depending on the damage.
That little experiment was one of few, Deadaim had began further tweaking with modifications such as heat sinks and cooling system tech. Anything that he wanted to perfect his little creation as his pawn he would design, no matter the pain it put on Killshot. She lay obeyingly, awake for whatever operation was going on, and remained silent as commanded. In her thoughts, the slight sadness and bits of fear festered together, starting to form and extreme dislike for the one she took orders from.
When higher ups had finally had enough of Deadaim’s swiping drone troopers, his lab doors were busted down. They had given Deadaim a chance to verbally respond, but he did not, he merely went on about the large cannon he was holding before firing upon the troopers. Deadaim was killed, his orders for Killshot’s assistance ignored by a loop hole. “KILLSHOT, SAVE YOUR BELOVED CREATOR!” How had she done it? Deadaim was her creator, but not her beloved anything by any means. She stood in wait, as if listening for proper orders while she watched. Her emotionless face was then met by weapons of the drone troopers that went uninjured, looking up at those who shared the burden of being unable to express much through appearance. “Designation; Killshot. Creator; Deadaim. Deadaim; deceased. Commander; unidentified. I cannot harm you.”
Along with the other things confiscated from Deadaim’s lab was Killshot. Currently, she’s in wait to be reassigned to another, or perhaps, to meet the end. She wondered how it was that even when her body was so horribly damaged, that it still felt as if she was there. So if they were to try and destroy her, would she not still be there? Or did she indeed, simply, not exist? Little does Killshot know, she is truly alive, her Spark separated from her body still lies in Deadaim’s lab back on Cybertron.------------------------------------------------------------------------------IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY?
Weaponry: - Temperature Tech: This little Minicon has cooling system tech and heat sinks. Basically, it keeps her from over heating and allows her to drop her temperature low enough to evade heat seeking missiles and such.
- Leg Pumps: She has a thick and well armored piece where the calf in her legs should be. Inside are systems of leg pumps that are influenced by the littlest bit of power to become a sky rocketing amount and allow her to dart or zip about with ease. Though, she can't go like this forever, the more she runs like this the more tired her body grows in need of recharge and Energon.
- Heated Kantana: In each of her lower arm, well heated a glowing pinkish purple kantana unsheathe with a burning aura. Basically, the cooling systems create a reversed wave and sends all surrounding heat to be absorbed plus heat from her body to make these already very sharp swords cut through metal as if it were paper if she's running up and slashing fast enough. You better watch out Bots, try not to piss this little gal off.
- Joint Control: She can dislocate her joints, you heard right. When she needs to squeeze through something, she can painlessly dislocate joints in her body and even move armor and metal around to flatten herself more so that she can fit through whatever it is that she needs to get through. If it's a door for example, this could help her when her creator sends her out to get information.
Extra: Killshot's lens shielded optics can record video, audio being picked up along with it. All one might have to do is hook her up to a screen if they do not possess a telepathy to view the feed.------------------------------------------------------------------------------WHAT YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT METhe light of the room flickered a bit, or perhaps, that was her sight. She stared up at the ceiling, stripped of any knowledge, any sort of understanding of what this was.
~"Killshot, Deadaim speaking. Who am I?"~
The voice was the first thing to touch her senses besides faulty vision which soon leveled itself out in a correctly functioning manner. ~"Deadaim; creator. I await commands."~
~"Rise Drone."~ Killshot obeyed, not even standing at seven feet tall w finally stood. Taking her first steps in the direction that the cracked scientist's malicious finger pointed.
