I DREW A FUNNY MAN // WASHINGTON

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]/this is awful BUT I DID IT

Gabriel didn't take much time to ever really look at himself. He knew the general basics of himself: owl-cat, wings, beak, talons, long-ass tail, white speckles on his wings. There wasn't much more than that, in all honesty, but at times he just...wondered. He knew what it was like for people to see him for the first time, because this wasn't his original body; when he first saw it, he had found himself stumbling through several emotions, the first shock, the second confusion, the third disgust. Yeah, all right, maybe few people ever went that far in visible reactions when they saw him, but he didn't blame them for it when those expressions did crop up. He was- he didn't even understand the logistics of how his body worked. Gabe had an owl's digestive system in terms of hacking up pellets, and a sleeping schedule constantly wavering between one animal's habits and the other's, but beyond those, he was at a loss. Was his entire skeleton built like a bird's, in terms of hollow bones? Were his blood vessels partially an owl's, with the way he could twist his head?

He didn't suppose it mattered much. Regardless of how he existed, he lived nonetheless, in all his fucked up glory. Sometimes he was tempted to track those eggheads down, ask them what the hell they did to him, but- he couldn't bring himself to do it. Gabriel didn't want to, because he hoped to leave that section of his life behind with his old body. It would help if he didn't always feel so bizarre looking at his reflection, always with the blaring alarms of this isn't right. They did so now, as he stared into the pond, onyx eyes gazing right back, almost accusatory.

"Never thought I'd miss those scars."
[align=right][i]——INFO

[| AGENT WASHINGTON |]

(Thanks so much buddy!!)

Washington was disgusted with the way he was now. He didn't have any intention of staying in the current body that he was in now. He would rather die than stay with the likes of an animal as this wasn't a place where he exactly belonged. The Freelancer knew that he didn't fit in well with the group that was indeed around him. Washington didn't have a reason to try and fit in with those that he would probably never see again once he became human again. So, he had no intention of making friends while he existed in this place, and he was fine with that. Others, however, seemed to consider it rude, but they just didn't simply understood. The armor that he wore was the only simple consultation for being turned into the likes of an animal. He knew the reason why he had turned into something like this. Well, only slightly. He had his theories, as it was those theories that kept him sane in a strange world that made absolutely no sense to him.

The former human believed that the alien technology that they had on the ship that he was on when it crashed out of orbit mixed with the explosion that destroyed the said ship and teleported them here. Was something like that even possible? He didn't know, as there were few people that were allowed to actually use said alien technology anyway, so he didn't know what they had on board when the explosion did happen. There had actually been different teleporters that were taken during the many raids that hey ended up going on. The explosion had caused the technology to malfunction and mix with the explosion, although the teleportation technology expanded faster than the explosion itself. Hence why he hadn't died in that explosion like one would think. Considering how big the explosion of a ship that was massive, basically bigger than that of a skyscraper, he knew that there were several options of those that could have gotten trapped in the explosion.

The Freelancer now knew that there was more of a chance of other Freelancers making their way to this outpost. He didn't like the idea of working with others that were in the project, especially with the recent appearance of Agent Texas. He was surprised that she hadn't decided on trying to burn the place down. It was annoying because he knew that he couldn't be around her thanks to his messed up mind. His episodes being triggered by simply thinking her name. The last thing he wanted was to show weakness around those that he didn't even remotely trust. It was his own means of protection, just like his armor was. Washington was disgusted to look himself in a reflective pool of water two months ago when he crashlanded here. The former human didn't like being an animal, and just thinking about being stuck as one made him want to vomit.

He had all the scars that he had when he was a human, the wounds, and memories trapped onto a body that probably wasn't his own. Washington didn't care what others thought when they looked at him constantly wearing his armor. Imperia had already questioned him because it was strange that he would want to establish a barrier between himself and everyone else by wearing it. As far as Washington was concerned, his armor protected him, and since every day seemed to come at random it meant that he needed to prepare for everything. His armor was something familiar that he could latch onto. It was an object that made him feel like a human again. He hated looking at his face, and he knew that as soon someone looked at his face they would associate him with that animal and there would be no going back. This wasn't who he was. He was a soldier. Not some type of predator that was constantly struggling in this world because others refused to understand where they were coming from. It was frustrating.

Even after being in this outpost for almost two months now, no one had seen his face just yet. They may have seen his chin and his broken teeth, but the smilodon kept his appearance under wraps. Few even saw him without even the rest of his armor on his body. One positive though was that there were very few animals that were capable of carrying the gear. So he didn't have to worry about the likes being stolen. When it came to nighttime, Washington was usually awake. He only ever gave himself two hours of sleep after all, so he was awake at night using gathering intel and data. He needed to keep up his patrols in case any other former humans from his world ended up arriving. It was difficult to do when he could only walk on three legs since his left leg was broken but he was managing.

His left leg having been broken by a former friend of his, and the only reason it got broken in the first place was that he had hesitated to attack the other Freelancer. Thinking that the other was willing to work together, even after the stories that Carolina had shared with him saying that he was a threat. The smilodon was making progress though, with his arm as he was able to put a little bit of pressure here and there. It wasn't all that surprising that Washington came across Gabriel while he was looking at the pond. He had to admit that he wasn't used to the aspect of hybrids and they confused him. But when it came to genetic engineering, it was common where he was from to try and splice things together that usually wouldn't go together. As long as the guy didn't grow as big as a tank they would have no problems. Right now he was keeping up the method of trying to gather information on everyone and being the 'good guy' of the Freelancers.

He had no intention of being buddy-buddy with any of them. Hell, he would more than likely try to kill them if they got in his way. It wasn't hard to see Washington at night, as the lights that were attached to his armor were constantly on as long as they were touching his body. They weren't extremely bright but instead acting like small flashlights when he walked around. The former human had a splint that was on his left arm, and he kept it slightly hovering above the air. Most animals weren't out all that late except for a couple, which didn't exactly make sense as most of the animals that lived in this outpost were basically nocturnal to a certain degree. Washington stopped a little bit of a distance away from Gabriel, his gaze hidden behind the helmet that he always wore. His armor had rattled on his approach, and his heavy pawsteps were a heavy indicator so he didn't think that he would have snuck up on the other. Washington kept almost ten feet between him and the hybrid. "You're out late." Washington stated in the usual deadpanned tone that he talked with. The smilodon sat himself down, craning his neck to the side until he could hear a pop, and looked at the water in front of him. "speech"

[glow=black,2,300]— ✘ —[/glow]

Tags | Updated 06/26/18:

GENERAL:
★ AGENT WASHINGTON | WASH, WASHINGTON, DAVID | MALE
★ Heterosexual
★ 3 years | Birthday | Ages realistically
★ Ascendants |  Regular member | Freelancer, Former Human

IMPORTANT FACTS:
★ Agent Washington always wears his armor and never takes it off. Which means no one knows what his face actually looks like.
★ He hates being called any sort of nickname, preferring for his full name to be used when addressing him. He will constantly state so, as its just how he's used to being talked to.
★ Agent Washington suffers from insomnia and auditory/visual hallucinations. 
★ The armor that he wears is extremely tough, there are some spaces in between the armor, but if someone were to hit his armor it would not break.
★ Due to his experience when he was a human, he prefers working alone and not counting on others to help him in a bad situation.
★ Washington will not trust your character. No matter how nice they are. He will not tell them anything until getting to know them.
★ His current goal is to turn himself back into a human, as he doesn't want to be a cat forever. Because of this goal, he is less likely to offer assistance to the groups.

RECENT EVENTS (oldest-recent):
★

PHYSICAL:
★ ARMORED SLATE GREY SMILODON FATALIS [birth/main] | health: 100% | Reference.
580lbs. Agent Washington is a species of Smilodon, roughly the size of a lion. Washington is different compared to most Smilodons due to the strange coloration of his fur. That being a dark slate grey compared to the regular tawny of a simple smilodon. There are faint spots that are visible around his back legs, but only when the light hits it in a specific way. Not only that, but Agent Washington wears titanium alloy armor, making it extremely durable for taking hits and can be used as a means of bashing an enemy. The armor color itself is slightly lighter than that of his actual fur color. He wears a chest plate, that covers his chest and half of his back. Then there are shoulder plates that cover his shoulders and his arms protecting the front half of his body. There is a gap between the shoulder plate and the rest of the arm plate of his armor. His shoulder plate is a yellow, making it stand out from the slate grey armor he wears. Washington also wears a Spartan Helmet resembling that seen in the Halo series. The visor is a reflective gold and having a yellow line going down the middle of the helmet. While he wears armor, one doesn't notice the extreme amount of scars that cover his body, that has transferred from the time that he was a human. Scars ranging from those made by knives, bullets, and blunt trauma. Since his armor doesn't cover the lower half of his body (flank, and back legs), several scars can be seen uncovered in that area. Even though no one has seen his face, if someone were to see his face, his eyes are a deep gold color with blue wrapping around his pupil. The blue is a result of the trauma from a failed AI implantation when he was human. There is a scar on the back of his neck that branches out almost like a lightning bolt, and its barely visible as his helmet hides the majority of said scars. Being a Smilodon means that he has long incisors, but it seems for some reason someone had filed down his incisors, making them useless unless he can put enough force into the blow. However, since he wears his helmet, its impossible for him to use his fang to attack. Leaving his powers and paws as the only offensive means.
- major injuries: none
- minor injuries: none

PERSONALITY:
Once being immature, goofy, and charismatic, Washington was changed completely after the implantation of a computer inside of his head that nearly caused him his death. He is a soldier and hasn't been anything but a soldier in his life, making sure to follow the rules as much as possible. He believes loyalty is everything, and unless given a reason to he will not betray anyone. He is extremely serious and will work himself to exhaustion before trying to relax. Thinking that he must be prepared for everything that will be thrown at it. He prefers to be alone, but that just puts more stress on his head due to the factor that his mental stability is almost nonexistent. Washington is an expert when it comes to regular military strategies, and he almost knows nothing of the clans and how they work. In his mind, he is only on an alien planet and they potentially did something to him. He knows that he needs to get back to the project once the ship had crashed, but now he is actually in a different world. His only plan is to figure out a way to find his goal, and if that means he has to kill anyone in his way to get the information he will do just such. Washington suffers from different lapses of hallucinations and this can be easy for him to snap toward others in a violent manner. Being a soldier, if all else fails he will use violence at his full extent.

RELATIONSHIPS:
★ Single | 1/2 nothing
★ NPC x NPC | Generation 1 | No mentor

POWERS:
★ Electricity Elementals (Not Discovered)
★ Air Elementals (Not Discovered)
★ Earth Elementals (Not Discovered)
★ Fire Elementals (Not Discovered)
★ X-Ray vision (Not Discovered)
★ Teleportation (Not Discovered)

INTERACTION:
★ Message this account to plot
★ Extremely hard to befriend
★ Physically extreme | Mentally easy | Training constantly
★ Will start fights, and will finish them quickly
★ Attack in by tagging account
★ Cannot powerplay peaceful or nonviolent actions. ALL OPINIONS ARE IC

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]/SORRY THIS IS SO LATE i fell into a video game coma
wash is that text post that goes like
significant other: why don't you get out of that battle armor and slip into something more comfortable
wash: i am most comfortable when i am impervious to most physical forms of attack

Right. They all had their heavy luggage to pull around. Sometimes the contents weren't as awful as people thought, just some mild dirty laundry packed too tightly in one place; in other instances, there were lost loved ones in those bags, or people they killed. For Gabe, it was a bit of everything, and he had a few extras even, ones he wouldn't unzip from the suitcases because those were not roads he would willingly go down. His life wasn't so wild as alien technology and missing opposable thumbs, but he had been a soldier once, too. Once. Like that was something he could leave behind. Anyone who had ever truly filled that position knew it wasn't possible to ditch the discipline in the past, or to forget the camaraderie- certainly not the sorrow that came when those partners-in-arms were lost.

It couldn't be left in the past because the duty and purpose remained a part of you even when hundreds or thousands of miles stood between the beginning and the present. Gabe didn't regret his choice, though he wished he might have been a little less bright-eyed about it all, a little less naive and starstruck. In the same breath, he wished he could have stayed innocent longer, that he could have held onto the optimistic spark in his chest, but it was another result of soldiering. No one who ever went in left the same way, if they left at all.

He was honestly ashamed of himself for burning out as he did. His body hadn't been broken, could have gone on saving people, but Gabriel gave up. Of the many unsavory attributes of his history, of the shitty things he'd done for the sake of a greater good that never came to be, quitting had to be one of -if not the singular- his heaviest regrets. It had been easy for Gabe to lose sight of himself when who he was depended on what he could do for other people. When he found he had inadvertently brought harm to anyone, or that he'd been an accomplice to suffering, it shook him to his foundation.

Recovery hadn't been so much of a healing process as it had been a complete uprooting of everything he knew. Effective, but- looking at himself in the water, he would have liked to keep his old body. Not this expressionless owl-cat crime of nature. Even the grim mass clunking over nearby was, at the very least, somewhat natural. He was some kind of prehistoric creature from what Gabe could tell. An owl-cat had never really been a verified natural occurring species, but he supposed it didn't matter. He had no control over it.

"Am I? My sleeping schedule's so fucked I don't know when it's early or when it's late anymore." He snorted, tone dry, before he cast an onyx gaze over to the armored fellow. "But unless you're stuck between two different sets of instincts, I think you're the one who's really out late. Maybe. Still can't tell."
[align=right][i]——INFO