Post by Berlioz Lamond on Jun 4, 2013 20:12:42 GMT -5
Name: Berlioz Lamond
Rank: *PFC*
Assignment: Infantry
Section: *1st Squad*
Age: 24
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 171 lbs.
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Years of Service: 6
Injuries Received in the line of Duty: Broken Humerus. Broken Clavicle. Fractured Ribs (2 times). Shattered Femur. All Metacarpals in left hand broken. Gunshot wounds to both shoulders, right thigh.
Character's Kit: M1 Personal Defense Weapon, M68C9 Assault Rifle (Top Rail - Trijicon ACOG Red Chevron 4x32, Left Rail - AN/PEQ 15, Lower Rail - Fore Grip), x2 M2 Smart Grenades. A21 Tactical "Marauder" Armour.
Frame: Berlioz doesn't have a hulking build but his lean frame is hiding several years worth of physical training that allows him to engage and defeat enemies several weight classes heavier than himself. Relatively short black hair coming barely past his eyes and ears does little to prevent people from seeing the often dead expression on his face, developed from years fighting on the front lines. His personal appearance is kept in check simply out of ease rather than a desire to respect the UCHD and SDC, keeping his uniform up to the minimum standard ensures that he doesn't need to deal with any more people than absolutely necessary. The stiffness and near unnatural precision that Berlioz moves about can lead to many people feeling uneasy around him.
Personality: If someone were to sum up Berlioz in a brief phrase, they would fail, as in the 6 years he has struggled to develop any kind of genuine friendship with any other members of the UCHD and the few that managed to spend longer than 10 minutes in his presence were soon killed in the line of duty. His experiences in conflict have almost completely removed his desire to even attempt to make friends as he often finds people either irritating or chooses to act distant so he doesn't have to go through losing more people that he knows.
Berlioz is a consummate soldier and a combat pragmatist with countless hours in both live and simulated combat, spending considerable amounts of free time maintaining his strength, skill in close-quarters combat and with firearms. In fact the amount of time he spends keeping himself in the highest form leaves little time for Berlioz to even try and make friends if that was what he wanted. Very quickly after his first engagement with an enemy force, he came to regret his decision to join the armed forces and briefly considered leaving, however he felt that his skills were best used where they could help the most people, on the frontlines.
In the time that he has served, he has come to develop a well buried hatred of the wars he fights in and the people that lead him into battle, feeling that each war is meaningless to both sides and that no matter who believes they are right, they are both wrong. Despite his distance from others, on the battlefield Berlioz will do his absolute hardest to do what is right by those alongside him, endeavoring to bring home as many as possible and fighting to his, often literal, breaking point.
History: Born on the 11th of February, 2735 and growing up in Zanabar, Redwing, Berlioz was constantly exposed to the military as a child. His father, Hector Lamond, a recently deceased Sergeant in the UCHD Republican Army was a massive influence in his very early decision to sign up into the armed forces. While his mother, Alicia Lamond, didn't agree with his choice she knew that his heart had been set on this long before he ever told her.
Berlioz left education as soon as possible, getting only somewhat above average grades and enlisted only a week after his 18th birthday. He had expected training to be hard, but hard didn't even come close to describing it, however he quickly came to excel at hand-to-hand and close-quarters combat, also picking up a very high degree of proficiency with firearms, coming top of his class and in the top 20% respectively. Had he tried harder he could maybe have applied for Marksman training but he felt that his place should be in the heart of the conflict rather than 2km away from it. He was assigned to a peacekeeping task force in the Republican Army.
Unfortunately all the training in the world couldn't have prepared Berlioz for everything that happened after he had passed all sections of his training. Only 3 days after the predetermined waiting time between training completion and first deployment, he was shipped over to one of the more remote colonies to deal with a city on Rohan in the Remus star system that was attempting to declare independence by taking its own residents hostage. Three companies of infantry with light armour backing them up went into that city to take control back, it was meant to be over in less than 48 hours. Instead it turned into a two week long stalemate with the defenders far more dug in that originally thought and considerably better armed than was reported. Over half of his platoon was dead in the first hour and he spent several days stranded without support.
Eventually the civilians were evacuated, instead of regrouping and taking the city back, the heavy cruiser they were deployed from fired down from orbit and the city was leveled to prevent further causalities. Berlioz remained deployed on the planet for 15 months before returning home for his only leave, after only a day away, he enrolled for the next transport off-world and was sent back into combat, never speaking of the reason he left. He has consistently refused any leave time since, preferring to be signed up to a new unit and sent back to fight. As of his most recent transfer to the 32nd Honored Brothers Special Drop Corps, Berlioz has been in near constant conflict for four and a half years, the strain of which is beginning to show.
Sample Roleplay: The dull roar around him was probably the most familiar noise to Berlioz, that noise that slowly filled his head and cut out any unnecessary thought. Opening his eyes again he turned his head as best he could, considering the helmet and body armour that he was wearing, looking at the men and women that were strapped into identical parallel rows of seats.There were no windows to see the dark sky whistling past outside, no vents to allow the cool air in. They were in a flying metal box designed to get them in and out in one piece, not that it did its job particularly well.
The soldier next to him was clinging onto the restraining bars a little harder than necessary, you could see his hands constantly shifting grip and changing position. Clearly nervous but there was little Berlioz could do it help him, the fact they were probably minutes away from coming into contact with their target meant that potentially these minutes could be their combined last. The one thing he was glad for, were the polarized visors of the helmets. Staring into the faces of the people around him never exactly made him feel any better about the situation so having blank unresponsive helmets at least made it look like everyone was in control of themselves even if that wasn't the case in reality.
[We are T-5 minutes to drop point. Everyone back there make final checks on your gear as you will not have the chance during the landing.] The grating voice over the intercom shattered the pseudo-silence and several people appeared to jump in their harnesses at the sudden noise. The best Berlioz saw of checks were people attempting to glance down at the rifle next to each seat. From where he was, he could make out a combination of M68C9s and M27A1s, a pair of M24 LMGs and the soldier at the back corner appeared to have an M50A2 SWS locked in next to his seat.
A sudden shudder rippled through the Sparrow, quickly followed by another. Great, they didn't say anything about this being a hot drop, he thought as a third shiver shook them. [T-2 minutes to drop!]That voice again, sounding somewhat strained this time. He felt his insides begin to rise as the Sparrow dropship began to descend; while he couldn't tell exactly how bad this drop was going to be, the near constant shaking of anti-aircraft fire gave a fairly good impression that this ruin of a city held some kind of strategic importance to them.
The green lamp that sat above the door turned a deep amber,signalling 30 seconds to drop. Then everything went to hell in a hand basket.There was a horrific bang and everything shifted sideways and the pair sat in front of him became a hole in the side of the Sparrow, red was sprayed across everyone and the soldier sat to their left lost his arm. The roar of the jet turbines was suddenly overpowering as they were no longer insulated from the outdoors. The man to Berlioz's left stiffened suddenly as a pair of .50 AP rounds punched through the armour plating and his seat. There was a terrific lurch and they came to a standstill, [Go go go go!], the pilot yelled out as the light above went red. The door dropped open as the seat restrains came loose.
Berlioz rapidly stood up and grabbed the rifle to his side and charged out into the torrential rain, rounds kicking up mud, water and shredded asphalt. An explosion threw him behind a massive piece of concrete that had fallen on the sidewalk. Looking up from his new position on the ground he saw the Sparrow attempting to peel away, one of its engines spewing flames. His helmet was suddenly full of noise as the pilots apparently began to broadcast on an open frequency, [-rget that! Jesus pull up! Pull up! Fuc-]The dropship lost its stability and rolled over in the air, its cockpit torn open as it clipped a building and proceeded to drop down onto the soldiers that had only just left its hold.
Rank: *PFC*
Assignment: Infantry
Section: *1st Squad*
Age: 24
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 171 lbs.
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Years of Service: 6
Injuries Received in the line of Duty: Broken Humerus. Broken Clavicle. Fractured Ribs (2 times). Shattered Femur. All Metacarpals in left hand broken. Gunshot wounds to both shoulders, right thigh.
Character's Kit: M1 Personal Defense Weapon, M68C9 Assault Rifle (Top Rail - Trijicon ACOG Red Chevron 4x32, Left Rail - AN/PEQ 15, Lower Rail - Fore Grip), x2 M2 Smart Grenades. A21 Tactical "Marauder" Armour.
Frame: Berlioz doesn't have a hulking build but his lean frame is hiding several years worth of physical training that allows him to engage and defeat enemies several weight classes heavier than himself. Relatively short black hair coming barely past his eyes and ears does little to prevent people from seeing the often dead expression on his face, developed from years fighting on the front lines. His personal appearance is kept in check simply out of ease rather than a desire to respect the UCHD and SDC, keeping his uniform up to the minimum standard ensures that he doesn't need to deal with any more people than absolutely necessary. The stiffness and near unnatural precision that Berlioz moves about can lead to many people feeling uneasy around him.
Personality: If someone were to sum up Berlioz in a brief phrase, they would fail, as in the 6 years he has struggled to develop any kind of genuine friendship with any other members of the UCHD and the few that managed to spend longer than 10 minutes in his presence were soon killed in the line of duty. His experiences in conflict have almost completely removed his desire to even attempt to make friends as he often finds people either irritating or chooses to act distant so he doesn't have to go through losing more people that he knows.
Berlioz is a consummate soldier and a combat pragmatist with countless hours in both live and simulated combat, spending considerable amounts of free time maintaining his strength, skill in close-quarters combat and with firearms. In fact the amount of time he spends keeping himself in the highest form leaves little time for Berlioz to even try and make friends if that was what he wanted. Very quickly after his first engagement with an enemy force, he came to regret his decision to join the armed forces and briefly considered leaving, however he felt that his skills were best used where they could help the most people, on the frontlines.
In the time that he has served, he has come to develop a well buried hatred of the wars he fights in and the people that lead him into battle, feeling that each war is meaningless to both sides and that no matter who believes they are right, they are both wrong. Despite his distance from others, on the battlefield Berlioz will do his absolute hardest to do what is right by those alongside him, endeavoring to bring home as many as possible and fighting to his, often literal, breaking point.
History: Born on the 11th of February, 2735 and growing up in Zanabar, Redwing, Berlioz was constantly exposed to the military as a child. His father, Hector Lamond, a recently deceased Sergeant in the UCHD Republican Army was a massive influence in his very early decision to sign up into the armed forces. While his mother, Alicia Lamond, didn't agree with his choice she knew that his heart had been set on this long before he ever told her.
Berlioz left education as soon as possible, getting only somewhat above average grades and enlisted only a week after his 18th birthday. He had expected training to be hard, but hard didn't even come close to describing it, however he quickly came to excel at hand-to-hand and close-quarters combat, also picking up a very high degree of proficiency with firearms, coming top of his class and in the top 20% respectively. Had he tried harder he could maybe have applied for Marksman training but he felt that his place should be in the heart of the conflict rather than 2km away from it. He was assigned to a peacekeeping task force in the Republican Army.
Unfortunately all the training in the world couldn't have prepared Berlioz for everything that happened after he had passed all sections of his training. Only 3 days after the predetermined waiting time between training completion and first deployment, he was shipped over to one of the more remote colonies to deal with a city on Rohan in the Remus star system that was attempting to declare independence by taking its own residents hostage. Three companies of infantry with light armour backing them up went into that city to take control back, it was meant to be over in less than 48 hours. Instead it turned into a two week long stalemate with the defenders far more dug in that originally thought and considerably better armed than was reported. Over half of his platoon was dead in the first hour and he spent several days stranded without support.
Eventually the civilians were evacuated, instead of regrouping and taking the city back, the heavy cruiser they were deployed from fired down from orbit and the city was leveled to prevent further causalities. Berlioz remained deployed on the planet for 15 months before returning home for his only leave, after only a day away, he enrolled for the next transport off-world and was sent back into combat, never speaking of the reason he left. He has consistently refused any leave time since, preferring to be signed up to a new unit and sent back to fight. As of his most recent transfer to the 32nd Honored Brothers Special Drop Corps, Berlioz has been in near constant conflict for four and a half years, the strain of which is beginning to show.
Sample Roleplay: The dull roar around him was probably the most familiar noise to Berlioz, that noise that slowly filled his head and cut out any unnecessary thought. Opening his eyes again he turned his head as best he could, considering the helmet and body armour that he was wearing, looking at the men and women that were strapped into identical parallel rows of seats.There were no windows to see the dark sky whistling past outside, no vents to allow the cool air in. They were in a flying metal box designed to get them in and out in one piece, not that it did its job particularly well.
The soldier next to him was clinging onto the restraining bars a little harder than necessary, you could see his hands constantly shifting grip and changing position. Clearly nervous but there was little Berlioz could do it help him, the fact they were probably minutes away from coming into contact with their target meant that potentially these minutes could be their combined last. The one thing he was glad for, were the polarized visors of the helmets. Staring into the faces of the people around him never exactly made him feel any better about the situation so having blank unresponsive helmets at least made it look like everyone was in control of themselves even if that wasn't the case in reality.
[We are T-5 minutes to drop point. Everyone back there make final checks on your gear as you will not have the chance during the landing.] The grating voice over the intercom shattered the pseudo-silence and several people appeared to jump in their harnesses at the sudden noise. The best Berlioz saw of checks were people attempting to glance down at the rifle next to each seat. From where he was, he could make out a combination of M68C9s and M27A1s, a pair of M24 LMGs and the soldier at the back corner appeared to have an M50A2 SWS locked in next to his seat.
A sudden shudder rippled through the Sparrow, quickly followed by another. Great, they didn't say anything about this being a hot drop, he thought as a third shiver shook them. [T-2 minutes to drop!]That voice again, sounding somewhat strained this time. He felt his insides begin to rise as the Sparrow dropship began to descend; while he couldn't tell exactly how bad this drop was going to be, the near constant shaking of anti-aircraft fire gave a fairly good impression that this ruin of a city held some kind of strategic importance to them.
The green lamp that sat above the door turned a deep amber,signalling 30 seconds to drop. Then everything went to hell in a hand basket.There was a horrific bang and everything shifted sideways and the pair sat in front of him became a hole in the side of the Sparrow, red was sprayed across everyone and the soldier sat to their left lost his arm. The roar of the jet turbines was suddenly overpowering as they were no longer insulated from the outdoors. The man to Berlioz's left stiffened suddenly as a pair of .50 AP rounds punched through the armour plating and his seat. There was a terrific lurch and they came to a standstill, [Go go go go!], the pilot yelled out as the light above went red. The door dropped open as the seat restrains came loose.
Berlioz rapidly stood up and grabbed the rifle to his side and charged out into the torrential rain, rounds kicking up mud, water and shredded asphalt. An explosion threw him behind a massive piece of concrete that had fallen on the sidewalk. Looking up from his new position on the ground he saw the Sparrow attempting to peel away, one of its engines spewing flames. His helmet was suddenly full of noise as the pilots apparently began to broadcast on an open frequency, [-rget that! Jesus pull up! Pull up! Fuc-]The dropship lost its stability and rolled over in the air, its cockpit torn open as it clipped a building and proceeded to drop down onto the soldiers that had only just left its hold.
