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Trent Venfield - Defiant

A desperate, never say die rebel from a world cast into the Terminus by the reckless hubris of its greatest minds, the hero known as Defiant led his people in a hopeless war against infinitely greater forces of evil. Pushing the grim certainty of his own failure and death from his mind, he fought tirelessly until the day he was snatched from certain doom by a strange quirk of fate, hurled across the walls dividing dimensions on a wave of energy. He awoke to find himself very much alive, in a world that could not have been less like his home.

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His goal now is to defend that world, and to keep it from becoming any closer to his own.

Theme Music:

The Planet Shyne: The Catalyst - Linkin Park

Hopeless Struggle: Isabella, Leader Of The Resistance - Jesper Kyd

He Stands Defiant: Protectors of the Earth - Two Steps from Hell

A Broken Warrior: Dark Harbor - Two Steps from Hell

Index:

Thread List

Reputation Chart

Questionnaires

Links:

Character Sheet

Wiki Page (Under Construction)

Link to comment

Reputation Chart

Defiant's reputation chart may also be found here.

Gather Information:

DC10: A dark-armored figure on a hoverboard has taken to patrolling Downtown Freedom.

DC15: This man goes by Defiant, and uses incredible future technology to fight crime.

DC20: Defiant's real name is Trent Venfield, and he's a tough fighter even without his technology.

DC25: Defiant is a refugee from another dimension who arrived in Freedom City in December of 2011.

DC30: Defiant was a rebel leader on a world in the Terminus, fighting to free his planet from Omega.

Knowledge (Technology):

DC10: Defiant's "hoverboard" doesn't hover, exactly. It is completely unaffected by gravity, and operable in high altitude, in vacuum, and underwater.

DC15: Defiant's staff is a modified version of an Omegadrone's standard weapon.

DC20: Defiant's biosuit is studded with tiny thrusters which enable him to fall in a safe, controlled manner from any height.

DC25: Defiant's biosuit, though as advanced as unique feats of modern super-science, shows signs of being a standardized design.

DC30: Defiant's technology is powered by miniaturized cold fusion energy cells. This is beyond incredible.

Knowledge (Life Sciences):

DC15: Despite his origins far beyond Earth, Defiant is biologically a normal human in every way.

Knowledge (Pop Culture):

DC15: Defiant's staff is a modified version of an Omegadrone's standard weapon.

Knowledge (Streetwise):

DC15: Defiant often tells criminals he apprehends how lucky they are to live in the world they’re ruining.

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Twenty Questions

It was hard to imagine that Shyne had ever been a fitting name for the planet.

Crouched low on his hoverboard to reduce his sensor profile, Defiant sped over the jagged, barren rocks far below, his eyes alert for Omegadrone patrols. He'd chosen to fly just below the great grey-brown mass of clouds that hid the sky, close enough to disappear into them if he was spotted but far enough away to actually be able to see. The smog was practically impenetrable, not quite opaque but layered so thickly on itself that only the faintest light ever managed to pass through them. Night on Shyne was not so much when darkness fell as when the dark got darker.

Beneath him, sprawling out for miles, was one of the reasons for the dark clouds. A deep pit had been gouged into the bedrock, a downward spiral of tracks that accommodated hundreds of automated mining machines that ate the hole larger, like spots of rust on a thin sheet of metal. Plumes of smoke curled up from each as the collected waste rock, useless to Omega's endless war effort, was flash-incinerated to make way for the metals that would forge new weapons for the vast legions of Omegadrones. It would become a sweltering rain of ash and sand in a few hours.

This site was getting close to camp; they would have to move soon. But such concerns could wait a little while. Leaving the mining site behind at last, Defiant ascended into the choking clouds. If not for his suit, he was uncertain whether he would suffocate or boil first. He was simply thankful that his faceplate blocked out the smells of a dying world, corrosion and despair. Once he was well into the clouds, a needle in a gaseous haystack, he grabbed hold of the edge of his hoverboard and jumped off of it with both feet.

The device retracted into a small, backpack-sized block, which he pressed into place at the back of his suit as he fell. Spreading his arms and legs, he spun downward, the wind whistling past him as he burst through the pollution and saw the distant ground coming up at him. It had been a sea once, before he was born, but water was of little use to a despot who makes use of mechanical soldiers, and so it had been drained and vented into space to grant easy access to the minerals below. Defiant couldn't even imagine what it would've looked like, such vastness.

His safe-jump thrusters kicked in about halfway down, gradually slowing him from terminal velocity until he hit the ground in a crouch with about as much force as if he had hopped from one foot to the other. It was safer to approach the base this way; sometimes the Omegadrones tried to track him by the whine of his hoverboard's engines, but his safe-jump systems were almost silent. Activating his mimetic stealth systems, which left his body as little more than part of the landscape even to his eyes, he began to walk the last mile back to the camp.

Through the entire journey, the coming raid had occupied his thoughts. The last time he had made a bold move, half his followers had been wiped out. His fingertips brushed the armor plate over his ribs, tracing the outline of the scar beneath. There was a good chance that his next plan would end the same way, despite his precautions. But there wasn't much choice. In a year, two at best, the entire surface of Shyne would be consumed, and its entire population processed. There would be nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He had to try to delay that inevitability.

This time, with the infiltration planned the way it was, there was a good chance he wasn't coming back if something went wrong. That didn't frighten him; deep in his heart he knew he had always been living on borrowed time. In two years that debt of life would be collected, no matter what he did, barring some tremendous miracle that would borrow a little more time still. As a leader he always put side his fatalistic thoughts; Defiant truly believed that he could make a different, even when Trent Venfield knew that he couldn't.

But if he died on this raid, some part of him wanted people to know the truth. He wanted it known that he pushed ahead not because he was blind to the hopelessness of the situation but because he knew that only action could lend his limited life meaning. And so, three quarters of the way back, he paused and withdrew a small, flat disk from one of his armor's external pockets, seated himself on a relatively flat slab of rock, and flicked the little device on. He was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he took a deep breath and began.

"I’m called Defiant, but my name, my real name, is Trent Venfield. I'm recording this on..." He stopped to check the chrono system embedded in the armor of his left forearm, then remembered that the stealth systems were active. Posterity could endure an educated guess. "On December third, twenty-six eighteen common era. Tomorrow, I will lead a strike force into the primary Omegadrone factory that has been established on my homeworld and attempt to destroy it with my Oblivion Bomb."

"I'm recording this message in case that raid turns out to be a one way trip, successful or otherwise. To a lot of people I am the suit; Defiant, and nothing and no one else. In their eyes I don't have doubts and I never even consider giving up. But that's not the way it is. I'm as human as anyone else, as much as whoever is holding this recording, I hope. And I'm here to tell you that, if I didn't make it back from tomorrow's mission, you can do what I did. It's not about being superhuman. It's about being stubborn, about refusing to stop acting."

Trent - and he really was Trent in that moment, not the symbol Trent projected - scanned the barren horizon, his faceplate protecting his eyes from gravel-laden winds that could flense the unprotected within minutes. Beneath that plate of nanometal his gaze became faraway as he contemplated where to begin his tale. At the beginning would probably be best. "(1)I was born in what was left of Coldriver, on the edge of the District Eleven nature preserve. I grew up like any of you, always running, picking through the ruins for food."

"Underneath the armor, I probably (2) look like any of you, too. Average height, with the thick build that comes with a life of working hard to stay alive and that tired look we all have. Our parents had that horror in their eyes, that disbelief, but we all know what to expect. We're just tired. But when you've gotten people killed, like me, you look a little different from the rest. (3) The way you move, the way you speak, that changes. People tell me what an inspiration my voice is, but when I listen to it all I can think is how hollow I sound. Hollow and small. So I don't think."

There was no stopping now; everything flowed, like the weight on his chest turning to water and trickling out through his mouth. Here was his chance to say what could never be said in person. "(4) I decided to stop just being kicked and kick back when my mother died. Her name was Anna, and she died because she wasn't sure she wanted to keep living. That's when I knew how much death scared me, and that's when I got the trait that brought me this far, (5) my strength and my limitation: the biggest never-say-die attitude on Shyne."

"It's because of that attitude that I'm still fighting, more than nine years later; no matter how much evidence I see that there's no way to win, and that everything I do only pushes my oncoming death back a couple of weeks at best, I push logic aside and keep doing what I'm doing. It's gotten a lot of people killed, and it's nearly gotten me killed more than once, because I act when it's hopeless. But there's no point in thinking about the inevitable. All you can do is focus on what you can change and then change it the best you can. That's what makes Defiant tick."

"I don't (6) hate Omega. Not really. My world wasn't taken from me; I was born into where I am. You don't hate a force of nature, something you take for granted, something that will last a lot longer than you will; you shouldn't, at least, because it's a meaningless hate. What I hate is hopelessness. I hate feeling like there's nothing I can do, like nothing I've done has been worth anything. Life is too short for anything you do to be worthless; wasted time is the worst kind of waste, the kind you never recover. But hopelessness isn't a force of nature. You can beat it."

Trent looked out over the plain of ash and rock around him and wondered about that. He'd beaten hopelessness; he didn't let himself feel it. But some rational part of him knew that Shyne was the very image of hopelessness, an endless plain of bleak resignation. And yet there he was. "You beat hopelessness when you stop thinking and start acting. I don't mean you don't plan, or observe what's around you. I mean that you become like a machine. You take in the data, pick the best way to act, and act on it. Computers aren't depressed. They don't ponder, they compute."

"I'm not claiming that it's easy. It hasn't been for me; it's fair to say that (7) my mind's a mess. There'll be nightmares, and there'll be doubts, and they'll get tangled up like cables in your pocket until you're not sure if anything is real. That's when you need to run a wire past your think center, straight from eyes and ears to arms and legs. You stay awake as long as you can, and when you finally crash, make sure someone's watching. You'll want to do stupid things when you wake up." His thoughts turned to the patchwork of scars on his arms.

"But you have to keep going, because the only thing worse than being dead, the only thing that really (8) scares me, is turning into a dead man walking. When you stop caring and turn hollow inside, and all you do is wander around thinking about how doomed you are until the day you die, it wasn't worth it to be alive. That's why you have to beat hopelessness; self-pity is seductive. Think too hard about how much reality sucks for you and your mind collapses in on itself. You stop acting." He'd seen it happen. More than once he'd come very close to that state himself.

"I'd like to say that (9) my goal is to drive Omega off of Shyne, but if I think about it - and I try damn hard not to - I know that I can't. So my goal, in the end, is to stay alive as long as possible, and to make every second that I'm alive mean something. Sometimes one makes it hard to do the other, but it's worked for nine years. (10) My place in the world is that I'm alive and I don't ask why. I just do, and I lead by example. I do what I think is right, the best use of the time I've got, and I try to help everyone else do the same."

"We're a mixed bunch, those of us who act. Some of us are in it to avenge something we never lost; we never had it to start with. Some of us are in it to win, and we lost before we began. Some of us are in it to survive, and we'll all die in the end. It doesn't matter; (11) I don't judge. It doesn't matter what you set out to do, it matters what you accomplish. And the sad truth is that I've gotten a lot of them killed; sadder is that I'd do it again. (12) The mission is bigger than all of us. That's why I'm recording this. It has to go on when I get myself killed."

Trent began to walk as he spoke, the faint crunch of gritty dust underfoot filtered out by the recorder's systems. "Part of the... contemplation bypass, you could call it, is that (13) you can't get close to people. No one person's life, your own included, should matter to you any more than any other based on arbitrary distinctions. No friends, no lovers, only leaders and followers, assets and liabilities. You will try to balance keeping them alive with working toward the mission, and no matter how cold you are it will break your heart."

"After my mother died, I left my father, (14) my only living family, behind. He used to be determined, full of life. He was a doctor, a healer. His name was Adam. He loved my mother; she was a part of him, a big part, and when she died be became hollow inside. He collapsed into himself. I knew that if I watched him die, too, the same would happen to me. Was it callous to leave him behind at a time like that? Yes, and I hate myself for it when I think about it. But I don't. I can't afford to. I'm a leader and a symbol, and until a replacement comes I'm too important to lose."

"(15) People wouldn't describe Defiant as the cold, calculating figure he really is. They would call him an inspiration, a light in the darkness. They would say that he cares about each and every one of them, and they're not wrong. But the way he cares, the way in which he has no choice but to care, isn't what they're hoping for. Defiant remembers names, whispers encouragement, and never backs down or shows fear. But when people say he's more than human, they're wrong. In many ways, too many, he is much less. He is as artificial as the metal plate people call his face."

"(16) Is he an inspiration, a role model? Perhaps, but only because our world is so fallen. He shouldn't be, in a better place. No one should have to strip away what they are to stay alive. But in our reality 'should' doesn't matter, only is. Because (17) if there's a supreme being he's either not all-powerful or not all-loving, so I'm hoping there's not. I've built my life, and the symbol of Defiant, around the assumption that when we die we're snuffed like a glowlamp with the batteries pulled out. All that matters is what we do here and now, and how it affects those who survive us."

Trent paused, seating himself beneath a jagged outcrop; he was nearing the camp, and he didn't want the others to hear what he was saying. Not yet, and maybe not ever. Steadying his breathing, he continued. "In a perfect world, (18) Defiant would work alone. I could make enough of a difference without putting anyone else at risk, without having to throw good people into the line of fire ever again. But that's not the way it works here. Here you have to make the choices that tear you apart inside, and you have to make them repeatedly, because it's the only way."

"Why is it up to me? Because I'm different from the others. I made the choice, and I have the power to back that choice up. (19) People with power beyond that of the masses have the responsibility to use that power to help those without it. Am I helping? I'd like to think so. I'm taking the doomed and giving their lives meaning, and I'm as much a member of that category as any of my followers. If you're going to follow in my footsteps, this is important: you're not better than any of them. You have an obligation to them, and they owe you nothing. To follow is their choice."

He stood once more, ducking to avoid braining himself on the rocks above, and began to walk again. But as his finger hovered over the recorder's "stop" button, he considered another possibility. "(20) Trent, if it's you that's listening to this some time in the future, I hope you have the chance to become a better person than I've been. I never wanted to make sacrifices, but here I am. If you get the chance to do the right thing without compromise, don't examine it, just take it. Put this behind you and don't look back, even if you only get one last moment of glory."

With that he flicked the recorder off, felt around for one of his armor's external pockets, and tucked it away. Then he walked down the hill, toward the cave that housed the camp. That had been too much introspection; the nightmares would be intense that night. But he couldn't think of that now. There was a raid to finish planning, quite possibly his last, and quite possibly the blow that would finally slow the inexorable progress of Shyne's lingering death...

Hell Questionnaire

Introduction

Who are you? Sum yourself up in one sentence.

I'm a determined warrior armed with the technology of a dead world.

Do you have any nicknames, street names, titles, or nom de plume?

I've been called Defiant for years; what's the sense in stopping now?

What is your full birth name?

I was born Trent Andrew Venfield.

Where do you live?

I live in Freedom City. I'm used to not having a house; I've done it my entire life.

How old are you? What year were you born (if applicable)?

I'm twenty-eight. I was born in the year 2590, as far as the people of Shyne are concerned, but here on Earth my effective birth date was April 22, 1983.

Physical Traits

What is your gender? If not applicable, please explain.

I am male.

How would you describe your heritage?

I come from Shyne; the eleventh district, in the north.

How tall are you?

I am five feet ten inches. My biosuit adds about two inches to that.

What is your body type?

I'm fairly solid, but most of my weight is muscle; food was scarce on Shyne.

Do you have any particular weaknesses, such as allergies or physical disabilities?

No, not that I'm aware of, unless lots of scar tissue counts.

How do you carry yourself? Are you graceful, or heavy on your feet? Can you be stealthy, do you walk with confidence?

I move upright, with confidence, but I don't ever waste movement. But there's a slump to my stance, an exhaustion that sleep doesn't take away. I leave stealth to my biosuit's systems.

Describe your skin, eye, and hair color.

My skin is pale, unhealthily so; in more than twenty-eight years on Shyne I never saw the sun. My eyes are dark blue, and my hair is medium brown.

How do you wear your hair, if applicable? Do you have facial hair?

I try to keep my hair short, but sometimes I don't get around to cutting it and it hangs into my eyes. My face is often covered in thin stubble that's not worth the trouble of shaving.

Do you consider yourself attractive? Do others?

I hadn't thought about it; it hasn't mattered. I suppose I'm somewhat handsome beneath the grit and the lines of exhaustion.

Do you have any scars, tattoos, piercings, or birthmarks?

I have a lot of scars; my arms, chest, and back are a mess. Long and thin scars, short and thick ones, straight ones and curved ones, I have them all. But most of them don't hurt any more.

Do you resemble anyone famous?

I wouldn't be the person to ask; I don't know much about pop culture. But I doubt it.

Do you have a dominant hand?

I'm right handed.

What kind of clothing do you wear?

I'm almost never out of my biosuit. If I were, I don't know what I'd wear; something simple and unrestrictive, I suppose.

Do you wear makeup?

No. Not likely, somehow.

What is your vocal range? Is your voice distinctive in some way?

I have a relatively deep voice; it tends to be monotone, hollow. I'm working on that.

Do you have any distinctive habits, nervous tics, or mannerisms? Where did they come from, and what causes them? Do other people notice and remark on these habits? Do they annoy you or other people?

My hands shake sometimes; makes it hard to hold things. It's irritating, but I cope, and I hide it well.

History

Where do you come from?

I come from the planet Shyne. It's in the Terminus now.

Have you made any major moves, or do you live in your hometown?

I've been hurled across dimensional walls, plus tens of thousands of light years of space.

Do you feel loyal to your country of citizenship? Do you consider yourself patriotic? How do you feel about the government of your country?

I feel loyal to the people of Shyne, if there are any of them left. Our "government" was a strip mining operation.

How do you feel about the place you come from?

Shyne was hell, but it was our hell, and we weren't going to lose it without a fight.

Where is your home town? What was/is it like?

I was born in Coldriver, on the edge of the District 11 nature preserve. I'm told it was beautiful in its day. I only ever saw the burnt-out ruins.

Growing up, were most of the people you knew similar to you, or were you somehow a minority? How did that affect you?

Total destruction of your planet's cities is the great equalizer. Everyone was on the same level: afraid and possessionless.

Is there something you've always been really good at or really bad at? How has that affected your life?

I've always been good with machines; I credit my mother for that. That skill has made everything I do possible.

Were there any traumatic experiences in your early years (death of a family member, abandonment, orphaned at an early age)?

You haven't been listening well, have you? I'll spell it out. My planet was a blasted wasteland before I was born. I was in danger of starving to death every day for twenty-eight years. My mother died before my eyes when I was nineteen. I abandoned my father and sent good people to their deaths. Trauma is one way to put it.

Briefly describe a defining moment in your childhood and how it influenced your life.

The day I built my first toolkit, my mother was so proud of me. Every time she asked to borrow it, no matter how bad everything else was, I felt so, so proud. I buried her with it. You can always replace things; you can never replace people.

What stupid things did you do when you were younger?

There was no time for stupid things. Stupid things got you killed.

Where did you go to school? How much school did you have, and did you enjoy it?

I never went to school. What I've learned I either got from my parents or from field experience.

Do you have any mementos of your childhood? What are they, and why did you keep them? If you have none, why not?

My possessions are functional things. I carry the hoverboard I built at age seventeen because it works. I would carry the toolkit I built earlier than that, but I have my reasons. Not practical reasons, but I run on sentiment rarely enough that it doesn't get in the way of the mission.

When did you decide to become a hero? Why? Did anyone influence you one way or another in the decision?

I don't know about being a hero, but I decided to hit back when my mother died. It was later, when I saw that I couldn't do enough alone, that I became a leader. Maybe now that I'm not hitting back or leading I can be a hero.

Is the reason you give people for becoming a hero different than your real reason? If so, why?

I never told anyone that I started to fight because of my mother. They had to believe that it was a crusade against injustice, not just revenge. I still don't bring the truth up much. It's not important; what's important is what I do now. Actions are more important than motivations.

Do you have any deep, dark secrets in the past that may come back to haunt you?

I'm not a hero, not really. I got people hurt trying to do the right thing. This is my chance to make up for that.

Do you represent yourself as being different from who you really are? Why?

I represent myself as being single-minded because I'm trying to be single-minded. That doesn't mean I've managed it yet.

If you do have these secrets, what do you fear would happen if the truth became known? How far would you go to protect those secrets?

I won't reveal them, but I won't protect them either. If they come out, I probably deserve it.

Do you have any sort of criminal record? If so, is it public knowledge?

Not here. On Shyne I was the number one enemy of the "government", but they barely noticed most of the time.

Family

What are your biological parents' names?

Adam and Anna.

Were you raised by them? If not, please explain and describe who raised you.

They raised me.

What was their standing in the community? What did/do they do for a living?

My mother was an engineer, and my father a doctor.

Where are your parents now?

My mother was killed when I was nineteen, as I said before. My father... I don't know where Dad is now. He's probably gone too.

Did your family stay in one area or move around a lot?

We had to keep moving; they would find us if we didn't. Eventually they did anyway.

How did you get along with their parents? How do you get along with them now (if applicable)?

I was very close to my parents, as close as any child can be. But not any more, or ever again. There's no helping that.

How do your parents view you now, or how would they?

I hope they'd be proud, but that's an idiot's hope. They'd be worried, that much I can say for certain.

Do you have any siblings? If so how many and what are their names? Describe your relationship with them.

I'm an only child; my parents wanted a bigger family, but I was only born because I was conceived before the planet fell.

What was your birth order in the family?

First and only.

Where are your siblings now (if applicable)? Do they have families of their own? What do they do?

In my dad's imagination, if he's still... Yeah.

Do you stay in touch with them or have you become estranged?

I'm not that crazy yet.

Do you love or hate one member of the family in particular?

I loved my parents equally. I still love them equally. I just don't think about it; it doesn't do any good.

Is any member of the family special to you in any way (perhaps, as a confidant, mentor, or arch-rival)?

Same answer as the above.

Are there any black (or white) sheep in the family (including you)? If so, please explain.

Not really. We didn't judge each other.

Do you have a notorious or celebrated ancestor? If so, please explain, including how it has affected your life.

Possibly. I have no idea.

Do you have a partner and children currently? If so, please describe them.

No, and I highly doubt I ever will.

If you do not have a partner or children, do you want them someday? How firm are you in your opinion on this, and what might change your mind?

That would be a distraction, a risk, a weak point. You can't do that and still center your life on your mission. I've had chances, and this is the reason I've never taken them.

What type of person would be your ideal mate?

I... don't know. I don't suppose it matters.

Relationships

Do you have any close friends? If so, please describe them, and how you came to be close to them.

As leader, I couldn't afford to value any one person over another for reasons other than simple merit. I acted friendly because it was inspirational. I didn't have friends.

Do you have a best friend? If so, how did they become your best friend? How close are you to your best friend?

Perhaps... Perhaps Sarah Cypher counts. She stuck by me through everything, through my biggest failures, and always believed in me. She was almost as dedicated to the mission as I was, but she had time to be full of life. I wanted to love her like I know she loved me, but I couldn't afford to. I wish I could have.

If you were to go missing, who would worry about you?

No one, I think, and that's the way it should be.

Have you lost any loves? If so, how did it happen, and what did you do?

Sarah and I were together when the Oblivion Bomb detonated. Maybe she was transported like I was. But probably not.

Do you have any bitter enemies? If so, please describe them and their history with you.

When your enemy is faceless and impersonal, it's hard to hate it. They're just machines. The Omegadrones have been and, I hope, always will be my enemy, but is our enmity bitter? I don't think it really can be.

If you have enemies, how do you think they might attempt to work against you in the future?

If the Omegadrones come to Earth, they'll have bigger concerns than looking for one fugitive. Besides, they have no idea that I'm alive.

What is the worst thing someone has done to you?

Taken my mother. I'll never forget watching that happen. I wish I could, but I know I shouldn't.

Where do your loyalties lie? In what order?

My loyalties lie first to the mission, second to the people, and third to myself. Perhaps, with time, I will manage to switch the first two. I'd be a better person for it, if not a better warrior.

Who or what do you trust the most? Why?

I trust myself to get the job done or die trying. I always have, and I don't plan to start acting differently.

Who or what do you despise? Why?

I despise a waste of a life. We've all got such little time. To spend yours doing nothing, that's a tragedy.

What qualities do you admire most in other people? Are these qualities you possess?

I admire drive, dedication, and zeal; those I've got. And I admire compassion; that I'm working on.

What qualities do you hate most in other people? Do you have any of those qualities?

I hate hopelessness, laziness, ad apathy, and if I ever end up with any of those I'm finished.

Do you have a secret identity? If so, who knows it? Do you hide it from people who are close to you? Why?

I've never hidden who I am beneath the figure of Defiant; I've just never advertised it, either.

Do you work well on teams and in groups? Are you a leader or a follower?

I've been a leader, a director, for years, but it's always gotten people hurt. I'll be glad to work alone, where I have only myself to put in harm's way.

Are you on a super team? If so, how do you get along with your comrades? Do you trust them, or do you have secrets from them?

I'm not on any sort of team at present.

Are you a member of any church, fraternal organization, club, committee, political party, or other group? How much time do you spend on that?

My only obligation is the mission.

Personality & Beliefs

Who are your heroes?

The people who can make a difference without going to the extremes I've gone to.

Did you ever become disillusioned with former heroes or idols? If so, why and what were the circumstances?

I've never had them before; until I came here, I wasn't sure they existed.

Do you like being a hero? If so, what is the most rewarding part? If not, what makes you keep doing it?

I'm not sure I deserve to be called a hero, but the rewarding part of doing what I do is making a difference. When my life matters somehow to the wider world, even to just one other person, that's reward enough. I'm part of something, and my very limited time hasn't been wasted.

Is there anything that would make you give up hero work, or even switch sides?

If I discovered I was doing more harm than good, I would stop. I don't know what I would do afterward.

What are your short term goals (what would you like to be doing within a year)?

I want to be established in the city, working at my mission, doing something unambiguously right and good.

What are your long term goals (what would you like to be doing twenty years from now)?

If I'm still alive in twenty years, I hope I'm doing much the same until the day I'm not capable of it any more.

What is your greatest fear? Why? What do you do when something triggers this fear?

My greatest fear is becoming hollow, falling into the trap of self-pity. It would make me useless, cause me to waste my life and lose my potential. And then I would die all the same. I hold tight to the mission to stop this from happening.

Is there anything you would give your life for?

If it was required, I would give my life to save someone else's. I'm a little too eager to do that, now that I think about it. I'll have to be careful.

How do you feel about money and material wealth? Do you desire it or disdain it? Are you miserly with what you have, or do you like to share? Is it a mark of success, or a means to an end?

Money would be useful, but I can make do without it. It doesn't make you happy and it doesn't make you live any longer, not in and of itself, so the only use of a heap of cash is to get something that's more useful than a heap of cash.

How do you generally treat others?

I try to treat others with respect, and I don't jump to conclusions about them. Until they prove that I can or can't trust them, I won't make assumptions in either direction.

Are you a trusting person? Has your trust ever been abused?

I trust people to act according to their natures. When people don't, or when they reveal natures different from how I had them pegged, it takes me by surprise.

Are you introverted (shy and withdrawn) or extroverted (outgoing)? Do you have a lot of self-confidence?

I am a social introvert; I can deal with people just fine, and I do on a regular basis, but I need time alone to recharge. I am self-confident in that I believe I have the power to pursue my mission. Beyond that, I have my doubts. I try not to think about them.

How do you act around attractive, available members of your preferred sex?

The same way I act around anyone else. They're no less deserving of respect.

What are your most annoying habits?

I wouldn't be the person to ask. I imagine others find it irritating that I am so single-minded; "downtime" is not a word in my vocabulary.

Do you feel contempt for any general category of people? Who are they, and why?

I wish that people would at least try to live to their potential. Those who don't even make an effort irritate and depress me, but I wouldn't say I hold them in contempt, exactly.

What is your favorite food? Do you prefer any particular type of food? Do you take the time to enjoy your food, or do you eat as fast as you can?

I've subsisted off of soy grown in caves and salvaged prepackaged foods for my entire life. To try something that can genuinely be called food is something I look forward to.

What is your favorite drink (alcoholic or otherwise)?

I wouldn't know, but water tastes wonderful after a day or two without it.

What is your favorite treat (dessert)?

Again, I wouldn't know.

Are there any specific foodstuffs that you find disgusting or refuse to eat?

I've eaten a lot of things that look and taste vile in order to stay alive; I'm pragmatic in my choice of diet.

What is your favorite color? Are there any colors you dislike?

Hadn't thought about it. Maybe orange, subconsciously; it features prominently enough in my equipment.

What sort of music do you like? Is there any that you hate?

It always helped me focus to have a good beat going while I'm working on building something. It doesn't really matter what.

If you have a favorite scent, what is it?

Insulation gel. Brings back good memories.

Do you have a favorite animal?

There were no animals left on Shyne except for some hardy bugs. I'll have to wait and see.

What is your most treasured possession? Why?

My biosuit. It's Defiant's face, and that makes it all-important to my mission.

Do you enjoy "roughing it", or do you prefer your creature comforts?

I've always roughed it. Creature comforts would be nice, I'm sure, but I don't need distractions.

Is there a job or a task you would absolutely refuse to do?

Steal. Commit murder. Anything that causes undue harm.

Do you consider yourself a spiritual person? If so, how do your beliefs affect your life?How important is it to you?

I'm not one for spirituality. If higher powers exist, so be it. I expect to be snuffed out when I die, and I live accordingly.

Was your faith influenced or molded by anyone special?

No. My faith, or lack thereof, was built out of growing up in hell.

If you belong to a religious organization, how often do you attend? Do you have a specific place of worship, or friends within the organization? How much do you agree with the beliefs of your organization?

This doesn't apply to me.

Could you kill? Have you killed?

I can destroy machines, certainly; I've done it for years. But I can build machines, too. I don't take lives. You can't replace people.

What circumstances led to you forming that conviction, or taking that action?

A life of watching people die.

Are there circumstances under which you believe it is permissible to kill? What are they?

Only to prevent something worse. I would hate to have to make that judgement.

How would you react to watching someone kill another person? Would your reaction be different if the killer was a friend or an enemy of yours?

No matter who it was, they would have to face judgement for that act.

How would you react if something important was stolen from you?

The only things important to me are the things I need for my mission, so I'd go looking.

How would you react to public humiliation?

I would focus on my mission; I'm good at not feeling.

How would you react if a good friend or relative were purposely or accidentally killed? Has it happened to you?

It's happened. I would take steps to combat the killer, then focus on my mission. Again, I'm good at not feeling.

What do you consider to be the worst crime someone could commit and why?

A crime that makes people wish they were dead is even worse than one that actually kills them.

If your life were to end in 24 hours, what five things would you do in those remaining hours?

I would let myself feel again. I would mourn for the people I've lost. I would tell the people I care about how I really feel about them. I would pass my equipment on to someone who could use it well. And I would die watching the sunset, if at all possible. We didn't have sunsets on Shyne.

Career & Training

Do you have any special training in your hero skills? If so, where and how did you get it?

Much of what I know about machines comes from my mother. The rest I learned in the field.

Who taught you the most about your heroing abilities? What was your relationship with that person?

Other than my mother, I haven't had any significant mentors.

Do you have any particularly unusual skills? How did you acquire them?

I wouldn't say so. I have mundane skills that I have taken to unusual levels.

Do you do something besides hero work for a living? Have you ever done anything else, or do you plan to?

No, the mission is the only thing I focus on, and I plan for things to stay that way.

What is your preferred combat style?

Quick and to the point, whether at range or up close.

Have you ever received any awards or honours?

No, nor should I.

What skill areas would you like most to improve in? Is there anything you can't do that you wish desperately you could?

I hope, over time, to become a more skillful fighter, and to upgrade my equipment. I wish I was innately superhuman, in a way; I could put less effort into getting ready for the mission and more into actually doing it.

How do you act around people who are more skilled than you in areas you'd like to improve? Are you jealous, or do you try and learn?

I certainly hope that I try to learn. Jealousy doesn't do anyone any good, so it's one of the emotions I try to bypass.

Lifestyle & Hobbies

What is a normal day for you? How do you feel when something interrupts this routine?

A normal day is spent out on patrol. If it's interrupted, its either because I need to spend time on my gear or because something has happened to me. I'll always hope for the former.

Do you have any hobbies, or interests outside hero work? What are they, and where did you pick them up?

Not really. The mission is what gives my life meaning and purpose. I'm not a well-rounded person.

What do you do for fun?

I find building things very satisfying.

Do you have a costume? What does it look like?

My biosuit is composed of black nanometal with a deep orange faceplate and readouts.

How do you normally dress when not in costume?

I normally dress in my biosuit. Outside of it, I try for loose, mobile clothing.

What do you wear to bed most nights?

My biosuit is my bed. I don't have a home.

Do you wear any special jewelry? What is it, and what does it look like?

No, I don't.

Do you have a special place where you keep your valuables?

On my person.

What's your preferred means of local travel? How about long distance?

I use my hoverboard to get around. I haven't had to travel long distance yet; I guess it'll depend on the distance.

Miscellaneous

Have you ever made a will, or tried to make arrangements for your death? What provisions did you make?

I haven't yet. I probably should. I want my equipment to end up with people who will use it for the right reasons.

If your features were to be destroyed beyond recognition, is there any other way of identifying your body?

That's grim. Other than the distinctive equipment I use, I suppose there's not.

What would you like to be remembered for after your death?

I'd like to be remembered as someone who gave everything he had to make a difference for the better.

Do you believe you pose a threat to the public? Why or why not?

I don't think so. I would never turn on the public willingly, and greater heroes could slap me down relatively easily if I were somehow mind controlled.

What do you perceive as your greatest strength?

My determination. I don't quit. It's the defining feature of my life.

What do you perceive as your greatest weakness?

My one-dimensionality. I see the world along very clear, simplistic lines, even when it doesn't actually work that way.

As a player, if you could, what advice would you give your character? Speak as if he/she were sitting right here in front of you. Use proper tone so they might heed your advice...

It's not wrong to live in a way beyond constant action, and it's not wrong to feel. Your life will be a lot more fulfilling if you let yourself do at least a little of each.

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