Post by FreudTastic on Oct 29, 2024 19:45:47 GMT
"My father's gift for my 18th birthday was a bullet to the chest. Today is my chance to say 'Thank you'."
General Information
Name:
Arin Fairfax
Alias:
Pocket
Age:
23
Origin Game:
Deadlock (Canon)
Homeland:
The City
Faction:
The Thieves Guild
Gender:
Male (They/Them pronouns)
History:
The oldest child in the Fairfax family line, Arin was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth thanks to the efforts of his father Maximilian Fairfax. He always loathed being spoiled and showered with whatever he might or might not have wanted, but he quietly accepted it all nonetheless, none the wiser as to WHY his father was spoiling him. He was always thrust into the spotlight whenever his father brought him to conference meetings between his own booming business -- Fairfax Industries -- and the ever-flourishing Institute, his father always dismissing it as merely wishing to express his pride and joy for him. Truth be told, however, Maximilian was setting the path for Arin to be his next successor for his company, and to be the one to complete the corporate merge between Fairfax Industries and The Institute. Problem was that Arin seemed to have little to no interest in the complex corporate chess-games he was playing, merely wanting to focus on the here and now, and what was best for the present. Frustrated, Maximilian kept up the charade and games until a boiling point was reached, when it was more than crystal-clear and evident that Arin was never going to follow in his footsteps.
At his 18th birthday, everything seemed to be going smoothly, with Arin being celebrated and praised by all of Maximilian's fellow corporate guests attending the party, and with Arin being presented with a very special gift from the Institute itself; a rather innocent-looking suitcase, which had been modified to contain a pocket-dimension module, as a means of infinite storage potential. A mere prototype in the workings, it was still a significant gift which Arin humbly, yet begrudgingly accepted. In the midst of the festivities, however, a gunshot rang out, and blew Arin's chest wide open, the birthday boy falling down in a puddle of his own blood. The guests cleared out in the midst of the panic, along with Arin's (seemingly) confused and shocked father getting herded along the panicked crowd, leaving him dying and alone. Panic and fear ran rampant through Arin's body, and he begged for the first time in his life, pleading to not let this be the end of him. Somehow, the pocket-dimension module in his suitcase seemed to activate on its own accord, as if responding to Arin's pleas, and something came out of it.
It seems as if by a freak accident, the pocket-dimension module had activated during Arin's pleading for his life, and another dimension had caught hearing of them. And a being from said dimension had now emerged out of the suitcase, presenting itself as a frog-like spirit that only introduced itself as "The Spirit". It sensed that Arin's life was hanging by a thread, and offered to aid Arin and spare him from the brink of death, in return of letting the Spirit be his patron. Desperate, Arin agreed, and took the Spirit within himself, which slowly but surely rejuvenated his wounds and physical trauma to the point where he was functional again. Mentally, however, Arin was forever scarred by the event. How could this have happened? WHY did it happen? WHO had done it? These questions would receive no immediate answer, so Arin took his suitcase, and before law enforcement could show up to the crime scene, he fled.
He roamed the streets for a while after that, going under the alias of "Pocket", foregoing his actual name out of a sense of self-preservation. He roamed the streets of the City, becoming adept at avoiding the law where he could and steal to survive. However, it was not long before he was picked up by curious eyes... eyes who had noticed his penchant for stealing and getting away with ease. He was approached by a member of the nefarious Thieves Guild, and in specific, one of their self-proclaimed "top thieves" Sly Cooper. He was at first a bit doubtful about the approach, thinking it was just an attempt to get him back to Fairfax Industries, and so he briefly fought Sly with his powers, but after a short bout the two stopped, figuring out the misunderstanding. Still a bit hesitant over the whole thing, Arin realized that it might be better than nothing, if only for the sake of keeping himself hidden. And so he joined as a new recruit of the Guild, keeping himself out of the eyes of the public, but also trying to find himself a new purpose as "Pocket".
Drive:
The only real 'drive' that Pocket has right now is to keep himself safe and out of the eyes of the public, in fear that Fairfax Industries might spy him out and drag him back to his father, who he suspects to have had a hand in his attempted murder. Still, with his mind in so much turmoil, he also just wishes to make a new life for himself, and if a life of thievery is what it's going to be, then so be it. Overall, he just wants to keep on living.
Visuals
Image:
General Information
Name:
Alias:
Age:
23
Origin Game:
Deadlock (Canon)
Homeland:
The City
Faction:
The Thieves Guild
Gender:
Male (They/Them pronouns)
History:
The oldest child in the Fairfax family line, Arin was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth thanks to the efforts of his father Maximilian Fairfax. He always loathed being spoiled and showered with whatever he might or might not have wanted, but he quietly accepted it all nonetheless, none the wiser as to WHY his father was spoiling him. He was always thrust into the spotlight whenever his father brought him to conference meetings between his own booming business -- Fairfax Industries -- and the ever-flourishing Institute, his father always dismissing it as merely wishing to express his pride and joy for him. Truth be told, however, Maximilian was setting the path for Arin to be his next successor for his company, and to be the one to complete the corporate merge between Fairfax Industries and The Institute. Problem was that Arin seemed to have little to no interest in the complex corporate chess-games he was playing, merely wanting to focus on the here and now, and what was best for the present. Frustrated, Maximilian kept up the charade and games until a boiling point was reached, when it was more than crystal-clear and evident that Arin was never going to follow in his footsteps.
At his 18th birthday, everything seemed to be going smoothly, with Arin being celebrated and praised by all of Maximilian's fellow corporate guests attending the party, and with Arin being presented with a very special gift from the Institute itself; a rather innocent-looking suitcase, which had been modified to contain a pocket-dimension module, as a means of infinite storage potential. A mere prototype in the workings, it was still a significant gift which Arin humbly, yet begrudgingly accepted. In the midst of the festivities, however, a gunshot rang out, and blew Arin's chest wide open, the birthday boy falling down in a puddle of his own blood. The guests cleared out in the midst of the panic, along with Arin's (seemingly) confused and shocked father getting herded along the panicked crowd, leaving him dying and alone. Panic and fear ran rampant through Arin's body, and he begged for the first time in his life, pleading to not let this be the end of him. Somehow, the pocket-dimension module in his suitcase seemed to activate on its own accord, as if responding to Arin's pleas, and something came out of it.
It seems as if by a freak accident, the pocket-dimension module had activated during Arin's pleading for his life, and another dimension had caught hearing of them. And a being from said dimension had now emerged out of the suitcase, presenting itself as a frog-like spirit that only introduced itself as "The Spirit". It sensed that Arin's life was hanging by a thread, and offered to aid Arin and spare him from the brink of death, in return of letting the Spirit be his patron. Desperate, Arin agreed, and took the Spirit within himself, which slowly but surely rejuvenated his wounds and physical trauma to the point where he was functional again. Mentally, however, Arin was forever scarred by the event. How could this have happened? WHY did it happen? WHO had done it? These questions would receive no immediate answer, so Arin took his suitcase, and before law enforcement could show up to the crime scene, he fled.
He roamed the streets for a while after that, going under the alias of "Pocket", foregoing his actual name out of a sense of self-preservation. He roamed the streets of the City, becoming adept at avoiding the law where he could and steal to survive. However, it was not long before he was picked up by curious eyes... eyes who had noticed his penchant for stealing and getting away with ease. He was approached by a member of the nefarious Thieves Guild, and in specific, one of their self-proclaimed "top thieves" Sly Cooper. He was at first a bit doubtful about the approach, thinking it was just an attempt to get him back to Fairfax Industries, and so he briefly fought Sly with his powers, but after a short bout the two stopped, figuring out the misunderstanding. Still a bit hesitant over the whole thing, Arin realized that it might be better than nothing, if only for the sake of keeping himself hidden. And so he joined as a new recruit of the Guild, keeping himself out of the eyes of the public, but also trying to find himself a new purpose as "Pocket".
Drive:
The only real 'drive' that Pocket has right now is to keep himself safe and out of the eyes of the public, in fear that Fairfax Industries might spy him out and drag him back to his father, who he suspects to have had a hand in his attempted murder. Still, with his mind in so much turmoil, he also just wishes to make a new life for himself, and if a life of thievery is what it's going to be, then so be it. Overall, he just wants to keep on living.
Visuals
Image:
Other than the eye-shaped tattoo mark on his left back-hand, he also has a huge, healed-over scar over his chest where his heart is, indicative of where he was shot through.
Personality
At first glance, Pocket is very much a brooding and dark character, soft-spoken and few-worded when they interacts with people, and also seemingly paranoid over meeting new people. While all of this is fair on him with a bit of context, even Pocket themselves realize how detrimental it is towards themselves. So they do their best to be friendly with people, even if their first attempts might be awkward and clumsy. They also have a bit of a nihilist streak to them, sometimes viewing themselves as 'already dead' due to barely having escaped it through sheer luck, and therefore seeing things as a bit dull and meaningless. But they do still realize there is a lot they can do in their new life, so he just takes things one day at a time.
Equipment
Pocket's main weapon is the "Black Sheep", which is a seven-barreled lever action shotgun, one main barrel surrounded by six smaller ones. Its ammunition is not physical bullets, but rather projectiles made out of occult energies, yet it still requires reloading after consecutive shots.
They also have their personal briefcase with a pocket-dimension module, meaning that there is an entirely separate universe contained within their briefcase that they can retreat to if they so choose, and emerge out of it later.
Abilities/Powers
Pocket's natural capabilities makes them a very adept acrobat and sprinter, having had to develop such skills on the streets. This also makes them very adept at navigating even the most treacherous back-alleys and side-streets.
Ever since making a pact with the "Spirit" now inhabiting their briefcase, Pocket has access to occult powers that allow them to utilize a variety of powers. These include launching projectiles of spirit energy, imbue their cloak and coat with spirit power and send it forth as a projectile, and then warp to its current location, and hiding in the extra-dimensional space in their briefcase.
The most ultimate display of Pocket's powers comes from their ability to unleash a terrible Affliction from his Spirit patron, unleashing a swarm of poisonous frogs from his briefcase that spread a blight to anyone near them. This power is very taxing on Pocket's spirit reserve, however, and they have to use it sparingly.
Pocket is very well-versed in combat capabilities, whether it be basic hand-to-hand combat or utilizing their shotgun.
Roleplay Sample
"... So damn noisy tonight."
They sigh as they look down from the rooftop that they sat upon, just gazing upon the streets beneath that they recognized as a street that they and their 'father' had driven down not too long ago. They remember the conversation they had in the car that day. Their 'father' had told them all about a big corporate meeting coming up, and how he wanted his 'beloved son' with them. They had refused. Said it was just pointless and boring. This had made their 'father' a bit upset, wondering why 'his son' saw it as something so unnecessary. They just said it was, and that seemed to be that. They were still dragged to the meeting regardless.
Taking a drag from their cig, Pocket felt the smoke burn down their throat and lungs, a small cough being heard as they breath out a thick cloud of nicotine-infused smog. Was that really an 'easier time' with his family? Should they have stayed? The question still gnaws at their mind, even after having joined this rag-tag group of vagabonds. In the end, they thought... it was a lot better than being DEAD.
With a final sigh, they stand and sling their coat over their back and shoulders, staring out into the neon-lit horizon leading over towards the towering Institute, knowing that it was most likely where their 'father' was now. Turning away and walking off, their parting words are--
"Goodbye... dad."
Personality
At first glance, Pocket is very much a brooding and dark character, soft-spoken and few-worded when they interacts with people, and also seemingly paranoid over meeting new people. While all of this is fair on him with a bit of context, even Pocket themselves realize how detrimental it is towards themselves. So they do their best to be friendly with people, even if their first attempts might be awkward and clumsy. They also have a bit of a nihilist streak to them, sometimes viewing themselves as 'already dead' due to barely having escaped it through sheer luck, and therefore seeing things as a bit dull and meaningless. But they do still realize there is a lot they can do in their new life, so he just takes things one day at a time.
Equipment
Pocket's main weapon is the "Black Sheep", which is a seven-barreled lever action shotgun, one main barrel surrounded by six smaller ones. Its ammunition is not physical bullets, but rather projectiles made out of occult energies, yet it still requires reloading after consecutive shots.
They also have their personal briefcase with a pocket-dimension module, meaning that there is an entirely separate universe contained within their briefcase that they can retreat to if they so choose, and emerge out of it later.
Abilities/Powers
Pocket's natural capabilities makes them a very adept acrobat and sprinter, having had to develop such skills on the streets. This also makes them very adept at navigating even the most treacherous back-alleys and side-streets.
Ever since making a pact with the "Spirit" now inhabiting their briefcase, Pocket has access to occult powers that allow them to utilize a variety of powers. These include launching projectiles of spirit energy, imbue their cloak and coat with spirit power and send it forth as a projectile, and then warp to its current location, and hiding in the extra-dimensional space in their briefcase.
The most ultimate display of Pocket's powers comes from their ability to unleash a terrible Affliction from his Spirit patron, unleashing a swarm of poisonous frogs from his briefcase that spread a blight to anyone near them. This power is very taxing on Pocket's spirit reserve, however, and they have to use it sparingly.
Pocket is very well-versed in combat capabilities, whether it be basic hand-to-hand combat or utilizing their shotgun.
Roleplay Sample
"... So damn noisy tonight."
They sigh as they look down from the rooftop that they sat upon, just gazing upon the streets beneath that they recognized as a street that they and their 'father' had driven down not too long ago. They remember the conversation they had in the car that day. Their 'father' had told them all about a big corporate meeting coming up, and how he wanted his 'beloved son' with them. They had refused. Said it was just pointless and boring. This had made their 'father' a bit upset, wondering why 'his son' saw it as something so unnecessary. They just said it was, and that seemed to be that. They were still dragged to the meeting regardless.
Taking a drag from their cig, Pocket felt the smoke burn down their throat and lungs, a small cough being heard as they breath out a thick cloud of nicotine-infused smog. Was that really an 'easier time' with his family? Should they have stayed? The question still gnaws at their mind, even after having joined this rag-tag group of vagabonds. In the end, they thought... it was a lot better than being DEAD.
With a final sigh, they stand and sling their coat over their back and shoulders, staring out into the neon-lit horizon leading over towards the towering Institute, knowing that it was most likely where their 'father' was now. Turning away and walking off, their parting words are--
"Goodbye... dad."
