Post by John Hart on Jul 23, 2011 3:11:02 GMT 10
Character Sheet - Canon Characters
Player's Name: Xtricks
Player's Email/AIM/MSN: xtricksx@gmail.com (no IM)
Player's Age: old
Roleplaying/Writing Experience: lots
Country + Timezone: GMT-8
How did you hear about us?: add on RPG-D
How often can you get online?: every few days or so
Character Name: John Hart
Character Gender: Male(-ish)
Character Age/Birth date: 1255177-bangor
Character's Nicknames [if applicable]: Get the hell away from me! Or, sometimes, Crazy Murder!
Nationality/Heritage/Species: 51st Century Human(-ish). Elder Uncle was a bit scaly.
Occupation: You pay me, I'll do it. If there are explosions or shiny, shiny valuables involved, I might do it for free.
Sexuality: you're joking, right? Hey speaking of fucking, how about we just close the door here and I'll show you my sexuality up close and personal. We don't even have to close the door.
Personality: John Hart is a man of strong impulses and poor impulse control. He wants what he wants and he wants it now and he doesn't particularly care what anyone else wants. Folks excited by quaint little categories might call him a sociopath, or simply an asshole. He is someone who can hold grudges for decades, show surprising (if twisted) loyalty and startling moments of joy. He can also be savagely cruel, and has the morality of well, something with no real morality. He is quite capable of scheming for long term goals, however, and has worked in groups and in organizations before he just needs to see the direct benefit for him to do so. John can be extremely charming and personable, if a little edgy, and loves to have a good time though a good time may include some gunfire and bad touch.
Personal History: John Hart is from the future, and it's a far better, shinier, place than this dirtball.
Which is what he'll tell you but, like Jack, he grew up in a warzone and was a soldier before his voice broke. Perhaps growing up as a child soldier broke something in him, the part that was willing to see others as more than tools or obstacles, the part that shied away from watching others suffer. Perhaps, if he'd been in a more civilized part of his world, the 51st medical system might have picked up on his moral flexibility early enough to do something about it. But, even in the 51st Century, people fall through the cracks and John Hart spent his developing years fighting a losing guerilla war.
For him, family are the people you share your ammo with and what blood relatives he might have had he's long lost contact with, or care for.
The Time Agency found John, just as he was, useful. And he found the Agency useful how many people get to travel through time, taking what they want, screwing who they can catch, knowing that you can kill someone's grandparent and they'd never even be born. The Time Agency did make various attempts to rehabilitate him, especially after that incident on Arcadius-Three. Still, they sent John on the sorts of missions that required an attention to bloody details and a low concern about life and safety.
Pairing John and Jack up was a stroke of genius. They were both willing to do the dirty work, if Hart was a little more enthusiastic about it, Jack didn't care, not then. They tore a bright, blazing path through their world and, for a time, no one in the universe mattered except each other. They knew all of each other's terrible secrets, and it seemed like they were match made in a very violent heaven. They did love each other and John will shoot anyone who says otherwise. The time trapped in a time loop was the beginning of the end.
They had nothing to do, no one to distract them except each other. It let obsessions grow, unchecked and the inability to get away from each other twisted something in both of them. Once they were freed by other agents, the two split up.
John was there, when sentence was carried out on Jack, the one that stole years of his memory but he was forced onto a mission during his recuperation and he knew Jack well enough to know he'd see the Agency's actions as a betrayal. He tried to get back before Jack conned his way out of the Agency to go with him, but he was too late and they lost each other in time.
John won't admit he's been looking for Jack ever since, and looking to get in his good graces too.
The Time Agency, depending on where you are in time, is destroyed. There are only a handful of survivors, John and Jack being two of them. John has taken advantage of the disruption to do his own thing, which mostly means stealing, conning, lying, killing, fucking and otherwise having a good time through the ages. He's found a few interesting things, though, and a path to get what he wants.
And have a little fun at the same time.
occ: yeah, I implied pretty heavily that John is the sort of guy who'd be a sexual predator but I'm not going to do any such thing in-game, though he'll talk a good line.
Scenario #1:
Hart wasn't here for the coffee, which tasted like piss even loaded with sugar and all the shakers of stuff he could pour into it, so he left it sitting next to the jug. He'd left a mess too and gave the counter girl a pretty grin when she stalked over to clean it up, mopping up the spills he'd left behind with a handful of napkins, soaking her fingers in the process. When she turned back she stumbled, feet suddenly clumsy, and Hart leapt up to give her a hand --
"Oi!" Coffee cascaded down his trousers and that wasn't to plan at all. Hart kicked back from his chair, trying to avoid the worst of the mess and feeling the hot coffee trickling down into his boots with a grimace.
"S-ssory," the girl mumbled, swaying, eyes wide. "I -- I don't feel so good."
"Fuck," he muttered, grabbing the girl by the arm and dragging her out of the shop despite her slurred protests and the shouts from the other patrons. He had about five minutes before the sedating drugs he'd loaded his coffee with put him down as well as the girl.
"'Et me go!" she had a bit of fight left and tried a clumsy roundhouse.
"Daddy misses his little girl, bitch, quick struggling. You're going home." Hart shoved her into the alley alongside the shop, pulse thudding heavily in his ears. The sight of his car, dark windows and all, made her struggle harder -- bit of survival instinct still going strong despite the drugs. Too bad it wasn't enough. Too bad for her, anyway.
He shoved her into the back seat anyway and stumbled into the front. Hart managed to get the engine going but his hands kept slipping from the steering wheel.
"Just a 'little kidnapping'," he snarled to himself, clumsily fumbling for his comm. "'Won't take more than a couple of hours from your day, pay's great.'"
"Back-up," he stuttered into the comm, head thunking down onto the steering wheel, vision going dim at the edges. "C'mon and get me the hell outta here. Job went to pot...."
He just couldn't catch a break on this crappy planet, even a simple kidnapping went sour.
Scenario #2:
"I know all about it," the man was all eager eyes and fidgeting hands. Hart leaned forward encouragingly.
"Yeah?" he said. "What is it you know all about?"
The poor sod wasn't even suspicious, not when John caught him nosing around some of the off-site archives, not when John just smiled at him and slung an arm over his shoulders.
"Torchwood," he leaned over to hiss in John's ear. "The Queen's own alien fighting force, defending the Earth, fighting for the future of humanity."
John bit back a sneer, that sounded just like Jack fucking Harkness, didn't it? A recruitment spiel for rubes like this guy here. And that ... that gave Hart an idea. Maybe he wouldn't off the man, after all.
"Lemme tell you a secret," he hugged the guy closer. "It's not easy finding out about Torchwood is it?
The man grinned, "Nope, but I've got the smarts and the skills -- wikileaks ain't got nothing on me."
"And that's just the sort of thing we need," John said puffing up the rube's pride and whispering conspiratorially in his ear. "Smarts, like you've got, skills and the wit to put 'em to good use, right? Someone who can run rings around ... wikileaks." Whatever the hell that was.
"We?"
John smiled at him and the man was too dumb to run. "Torchwood. Torchwood needs someone just like you."
"You -- you are Torchwood," the man crowed triumphantly. "I knew it!"
John slapped a hand over the man's mouth. "Yeah and keep yelling, the rest of the city will too. Wouldn't want that, would we?"
He shook his head wildly under John's palm, breath hot and fast on his fingers.
"So, how about you tell me how you got here," John said, because he needed to know how to erase the very path the man had used to bring him to John's attention. "And then you can stop being on the outside looking in."
Because John could always use some more cannon fodder.
Player's Name: Xtricks
Player's Email/AIM/MSN: xtricksx@gmail.com (no IM)
Player's Age: old
Roleplaying/Writing Experience: lots
Country + Timezone: GMT-8
How did you hear about us?: add on RPG-D
How often can you get online?: every few days or so
Character Name: John Hart
Character Gender: Male(-ish)
Character Age/Birth date: 1255177-bangor
Character's Nicknames [if applicable]: Get the hell away from me! Or, sometimes, Crazy Murder!
Nationality/Heritage/Species: 51st Century Human(-ish). Elder Uncle was a bit scaly.
Occupation: You pay me, I'll do it. If there are explosions or shiny, shiny valuables involved, I might do it for free.
Sexuality: you're joking, right? Hey speaking of fucking, how about we just close the door here and I'll show you my sexuality up close and personal. We don't even have to close the door.
Personality: John Hart is a man of strong impulses and poor impulse control. He wants what he wants and he wants it now and he doesn't particularly care what anyone else wants. Folks excited by quaint little categories might call him a sociopath, or simply an asshole. He is someone who can hold grudges for decades, show surprising (if twisted) loyalty and startling moments of joy. He can also be savagely cruel, and has the morality of well, something with no real morality. He is quite capable of scheming for long term goals, however, and has worked in groups and in organizations before he just needs to see the direct benefit for him to do so. John can be extremely charming and personable, if a little edgy, and loves to have a good time though a good time may include some gunfire and bad touch.
Personal History: John Hart is from the future, and it's a far better, shinier, place than this dirtball.
Which is what he'll tell you but, like Jack, he grew up in a warzone and was a soldier before his voice broke. Perhaps growing up as a child soldier broke something in him, the part that was willing to see others as more than tools or obstacles, the part that shied away from watching others suffer. Perhaps, if he'd been in a more civilized part of his world, the 51st medical system might have picked up on his moral flexibility early enough to do something about it. But, even in the 51st Century, people fall through the cracks and John Hart spent his developing years fighting a losing guerilla war.
For him, family are the people you share your ammo with and what blood relatives he might have had he's long lost contact with, or care for.
The Time Agency found John, just as he was, useful. And he found the Agency useful how many people get to travel through time, taking what they want, screwing who they can catch, knowing that you can kill someone's grandparent and they'd never even be born. The Time Agency did make various attempts to rehabilitate him, especially after that incident on Arcadius-Three. Still, they sent John on the sorts of missions that required an attention to bloody details and a low concern about life and safety.
Pairing John and Jack up was a stroke of genius. They were both willing to do the dirty work, if Hart was a little more enthusiastic about it, Jack didn't care, not then. They tore a bright, blazing path through their world and, for a time, no one in the universe mattered except each other. They knew all of each other's terrible secrets, and it seemed like they were match made in a very violent heaven. They did love each other and John will shoot anyone who says otherwise. The time trapped in a time loop was the beginning of the end.
They had nothing to do, no one to distract them except each other. It let obsessions grow, unchecked and the inability to get away from each other twisted something in both of them. Once they were freed by other agents, the two split up.
John was there, when sentence was carried out on Jack, the one that stole years of his memory but he was forced onto a mission during his recuperation and he knew Jack well enough to know he'd see the Agency's actions as a betrayal. He tried to get back before Jack conned his way out of the Agency to go with him, but he was too late and they lost each other in time.
John won't admit he's been looking for Jack ever since, and looking to get in his good graces too.
The Time Agency, depending on where you are in time, is destroyed. There are only a handful of survivors, John and Jack being two of them. John has taken advantage of the disruption to do his own thing, which mostly means stealing, conning, lying, killing, fucking and otherwise having a good time through the ages. He's found a few interesting things, though, and a path to get what he wants.
And have a little fun at the same time.
occ: yeah, I implied pretty heavily that John is the sort of guy who'd be a sexual predator but I'm not going to do any such thing in-game, though he'll talk a good line.
Scenario #1:
Hart wasn't here for the coffee, which tasted like piss even loaded with sugar and all the shakers of stuff he could pour into it, so he left it sitting next to the jug. He'd left a mess too and gave the counter girl a pretty grin when she stalked over to clean it up, mopping up the spills he'd left behind with a handful of napkins, soaking her fingers in the process. When she turned back she stumbled, feet suddenly clumsy, and Hart leapt up to give her a hand --
"Oi!" Coffee cascaded down his trousers and that wasn't to plan at all. Hart kicked back from his chair, trying to avoid the worst of the mess and feeling the hot coffee trickling down into his boots with a grimace.
"S-ssory," the girl mumbled, swaying, eyes wide. "I -- I don't feel so good."
"Fuck," he muttered, grabbing the girl by the arm and dragging her out of the shop despite her slurred protests and the shouts from the other patrons. He had about five minutes before the sedating drugs he'd loaded his coffee with put him down as well as the girl.
"'Et me go!" she had a bit of fight left and tried a clumsy roundhouse.
"Daddy misses his little girl, bitch, quick struggling. You're going home." Hart shoved her into the alley alongside the shop, pulse thudding heavily in his ears. The sight of his car, dark windows and all, made her struggle harder -- bit of survival instinct still going strong despite the drugs. Too bad it wasn't enough. Too bad for her, anyway.
He shoved her into the back seat anyway and stumbled into the front. Hart managed to get the engine going but his hands kept slipping from the steering wheel.
"Just a 'little kidnapping'," he snarled to himself, clumsily fumbling for his comm. "'Won't take more than a couple of hours from your day, pay's great.'"
"Back-up," he stuttered into the comm, head thunking down onto the steering wheel, vision going dim at the edges. "C'mon and get me the hell outta here. Job went to pot...."
He just couldn't catch a break on this crappy planet, even a simple kidnapping went sour.
Scenario #2:
"I know all about it," the man was all eager eyes and fidgeting hands. Hart leaned forward encouragingly.
"Yeah?" he said. "What is it you know all about?"
The poor sod wasn't even suspicious, not when John caught him nosing around some of the off-site archives, not when John just smiled at him and slung an arm over his shoulders.
"Torchwood," he leaned over to hiss in John's ear. "The Queen's own alien fighting force, defending the Earth, fighting for the future of humanity."
John bit back a sneer, that sounded just like Jack fucking Harkness, didn't it? A recruitment spiel for rubes like this guy here. And that ... that gave Hart an idea. Maybe he wouldn't off the man, after all.
"Lemme tell you a secret," he hugged the guy closer. "It's not easy finding out about Torchwood is it?
The man grinned, "Nope, but I've got the smarts and the skills -- wikileaks ain't got nothing on me."
"And that's just the sort of thing we need," John said puffing up the rube's pride and whispering conspiratorially in his ear. "Smarts, like you've got, skills and the wit to put 'em to good use, right? Someone who can run rings around ... wikileaks." Whatever the hell that was.
"We?"
John smiled at him and the man was too dumb to run. "Torchwood. Torchwood needs someone just like you."
"You -- you are Torchwood," the man crowed triumphantly. "I knew it!"
John slapped a hand over the man's mouth. "Yeah and keep yelling, the rest of the city will too. Wouldn't want that, would we?"
He shook his head wildly under John's palm, breath hot and fast on his fingers.
"So, how about you tell me how you got here," John said, because he needed to know how to erase the very path the man had used to bring him to John's attention. "And then you can stop being on the outside looking in."
Because John could always use some more cannon fodder.
