|Reason for joining ARM||Volunteer|
This man is a member of the CSU.
At Character CreationEdit
Already graying, he is shorter than average, but has a soldier's bearing, and walks as if suffering from old, unseen scars or wounds.
Current, Out of ArmourEdit
As above, but wearing a worn set of combat fatigues from... somewhere.
A man in a standard MCP-I.
Christopher was a salesman and a gamer. He also had a second name. Quite good at flogging cars, he managed to buy an account on one of the largest VR military simulator MMOs on his planet, an ordinary, run of the mill arcology-covered civilian conurbation. This MMO was entirely immersive, containing millions if not billions of NPCs and players, with millions of missions, battles, etc. After playing for a while, Christopher asked some of his gamer friends to "put him under", i.e. send him into the VR environment without letting his conscious or subconscious know it wasn't real. They did this, but, as a cruel joke, failed to let him out. He had a life-support system installed letting him play for days, and had had his time-perception distorted in order to get more playing hours while in the environment. As he did not know it was a simulation, and server rules forbade anyone from telling him, he spent the next 40 years of his life in the VR, fighting impossibly large battles, experiencing war after war after war, while only 3 passed in real life. When his bank account ran dry, switching off the automated life support, he found himself destitute, partnerless, unemployed, unable to trust reality or to participate in civilian life, and had also forgotten his second name, his current one being thought up by a snarky bureaucrat. No normal military was interested in employing someone so unstable, so he went to ARM instead, seeking fufillment, acceptance and redemption.
Will: Upon death everything goes to the Common Soldiers' Union.
Sir Jackson II partners up with Christopher, kidnaps D'usse de Cognac, and lures STEPHEN HAWKING into coming to orgyverse. With their ship loaded full of booze, alots, and several pocket dimension remotes, the group sets off together in order to spread knowledge of STEPHEN HAWKING, get into many catgirl orgies, increase their dakka, and ultimately find Catgirl Prime. Many decades later one of the base units for their pocket dimensions is examined as part of routine maintenance. They open up the pocket dimension itself and find an ecosystem of inbred feral catgirls hunting herds of alots across fields of barley. The other pocket universes contain a variety of objects, many of which are alien in nature, as well as a photo album, mostly holding Polaroid images of genitalia, weapons, and weapons alongside genitalia, only broken up by a small assortment of pictures depicting unknown planets and alien lifeforms. The fate of the crew is unknown, and none of their pocket dimensions have been used in many years.
Someone else's organs Probably..
Shallow gash caused by Twitchblade.
- Swiss Army Pimpknuckle (built in the assaultsuit)
- 'Doctrine' Shard Autocannon (18/18)
- Level 1 Fleshknit Round
- Black Material Corrosion Round
- Black Shielding Round
- Black Fleshrend Round
- Black Mindfuck Round
- 3 knives
- Civ gauss pistol (nonfunctional)
- Halfbrick in a sock
- Huge club
- 8 Assault rifles from Trinity 3 + Ammo
- 2 cans of medifoam (loaned from team fund)
- Some flowers and small rodents
- Some food and nice wine from Trinity 3
- Piece of soap carved to look like a gun
- 0 Tokens
Last Levelup: Mission 27