Character Description Name: Bruce Octerno Physical Traits Age: 21 Height: 6'9 (Ha ha so funny) Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Blue Skin Color: Tan Caucasian Weight: 215 lbs Mental Traits Traits: Quiet, Intense, Modest, Caring Mindset: Determined Sanity Status: Slowly slipping away Relationships: None Profession: National Assassin Likes: Weapons, Isolation, Killing, Helping people, Making the world a better place. Dislikes: Being lied to, Publicity, Attention. Clothing Shirt: Black Vest Pants: Black Dress Pants Shoes: Dress Shoes Hat: None Jacket: Long Dark Grey Overcoat Glasses: Black Glasses Weapons Kabar Knife .50 Cal Pistol Minigun (Special Occasions) Throwing Knife Bio A very muscular and strong soldier, Bruce was the most highly trained and experienced soldier in his entire battalion. He came from a dark past, from a childhood few could even bare to imagine. Bruce rarely talks, because he is afraid that, if he does, secrets will be revealed that would be best kept in the dark. Because of his 5 partners, all deceased, Bruce doesn't take risks with forming any relationships because he doesn't want to form a friendship that would end in the all too familiar tragedy of death. That's all he feels like his life is now. Just death and destruction. Slowly, day by day, a little bit more of his sanity slips away, and the more alone he feels. This is what makes him such a great soldier. Such a great assassin. _________________________________________________________________________ Roleplay Bruce waited anxiously as the plane landed, he had been planning the trip to the Antarctica for months, and it seemed like years before the opportunity arose to finally go on it. As the plane landed on the runway, traction caught the wheels and Bruce felt his body lurch forward with the brakes activating. The large metal craft slowed to a near stop, and found its way to the hangar, where the door opened and seatbelt lights were switched off. His belt unclipped with one swift movement of his large hands, and he grabbed his SCUBA equipment from the rack above his head. The gear was slung on his back and he walked out of the craft, his heavy footsteps shaking the floor. Bruce looked around at the white wasteland, and saw the glowing of a nearby village. He looked down at his watch; 23:41. He never readjusted to normal time, so he kept all of his devices in military time. A truck came to pick him and a few others up, and drove them to the village. Once they arrived, Bruce walked to the cabin he was renting for the next few weeks, and opened the door with a loud THUD against the wall it hit. Bruce smiled and smelled the fireplace burning, the large single room lit up by the lone fireplace and a few candles. His equipment found its way to the couch, and his suitcase rolled to a stop against the wall. His large body walked into the bedroom and fell onto the soft, lush bed, and within a minute Bruce laid there asleep. Bruce was rudely awoken by loud and rapid knocks on the door of his cabin, and with a groan he set up and walked to the door, swinging it open quickly. A woman a whole head shorter than him looked up at him in fear. "Um... E-Excuse me? I was told to deliver supplies to this location..." She stuttered, a duffel bag in her hand. "Yes. Thank you." Bruce grabbed the bag from her and walked back into the cabin, closing the door. He now had everything he needed for the dive. What the woman had just delivered was a machine that filled air tanks, something that was too bulky for his other equipment bag. Bruce took his suit off, took a quick shower, and clothed himself with a large puffy jacket, cargo pants, and thick underclothing. All of the equipment together weighed a total of 243 lbs, and Bruce piled it all onto the back of one of the two snowmobiles that sat in front of his cabin. After that, he put the keys in the ignition and turned, the engine roaring to life. Bruce sat on it and pulled the throttle, heading to his predetermined dive location. It took a total of two hours to get to where he wanted to be, the gas canisters preloaded on the sides of the snowmobile having spent a quarter of their capacity when Bruce stopped to refuel. He smiled as the yellow flag sticking out of the ground came into view, and slowed his vehicle to a stop. The bag containing most of the supplies was dropped on the snow covered ice, and Bruce quickly set up his tent. The air pump was pulled out of the bag, and the steel spikes dug into the ice. Bruce pulled the tank out of the bag and began to fill it, and grabbed his BCD and dive computer, regulator, and other pieces. Once all of the equipment was assembled, he took the tank off of the pump and shut the pump off, hooking it up to the BCD and the rest of the equipment to the tank and BCD. After Bruce looked over everything and made sure there were no leaks, he grabbed his dry suit and entered the tent, and changed into the proper outfit. He pulled his hood over and mask on, leaving no cracks for the deathly cold water to get through. He pulled his boots on, and grabbed his fins, the exited the tent. He smiled for the first time in years, and looked at the hole he would be entering the water through. He hoped he would see narwhales, penguins, and seals. Maybe even killer whales. These parts were too cold for Sea Lions or manta rays, which were by far his favorite underwater creatures, but he was excited to see new things. The heavy BCD and tank were pulled on his back, and he filled the BCD with air and checked his PSI, 3000 even. He hopped in the water, using the leaping stride entrance technique. Once in the water, he pulled his fins on and submerged himself. Once he was under the water, Bruce lit a bright lamp and placed it in the ice near the entrance of the hole, so he could trace himself back when the time was needed. The underwater world was beautiful, lit by four lights on Bruce's arms and legs, and one mounted on top of his head. The ice was carved as if somebody brought a knife to it and made delicate art and structures. Bruce brought his camera from his leg and took pictures where he saw fit, and when he saw the group of 9 killer whales, his breath was taken away. His camera almost became overloaded with the rapid succession of each picture taken, and he was so excited, he didn’t notice the leopard seal sneaking up behind him. His whole body became numb as he felt the water rush into his suit, and the sharp teeth bite into his arm and pierce his tank, creating a large explosion that propelled him to the surface, fifty feet away from the hole where he entered. He dropped his camera, but all he was concerned about was escaping with his life. He looked down where he was attacked and saw a large red splot of blood where the seal's face once was, obliterated by the explosion. Bruce pulled his knife out and dug it into the underside of the ice, and launched himself with the grip to the hole. Once he reached the hole, Bruce couldn’t feel any of his body. With all of his strength, he climbed out and watched as blood-mixed water poured from his suit. He tore his BCD off and threw it to the ground, and heard the growing growl of an engine approaching. Before he had a chance to react, his feet found a slick ice patch, and his head found the ground quickly. When Bruce awoke, he found himself in a cabin much like the one he rented. Across the room, he was a woman sitting in front of a fireplace. He had been stripped down to his underwear, and found bandages wrapped around his chest, legs, and arm. "Wh... What happened?" He asked, leaning forward and quickly regretting the decision, then set back down as pain filled his body.