08-02-2017, 08:17 PM
08-02-2017, 08:17 PM
Clive Heartman [Inactive Name]
Nickname: "Funny Sunny" / "Sunny"
Age / Origin: 28 [From Club Opening] / Liberty
Rank: President
Chapter: N/A
Skill Chart:
Background:
Born and raised in New Jamestown on Planet Los Angeles, Clive had a tough upbringing. The streets of the city were known to be riddled with crime and it was not rare to smell the sent of drugs, a litter of used syringes, or shattered glass bottles. The city lit up anew at night with neon and flashing signs, with the sound of dance or house music from the local clubs and bars fighting against distant sirens in the distance. Everyone knew, though, that it was simply a response unit to clean up whatever blood was spilt next. The weak and vulnerable either didn't survive very long or was taken advantage of, with no help administered by the local corrupt authorities; bought-off by local gangs. In Jamestown, credits were king. Of course, there was the odd occasion of an arrest just to keep the law enforcement looking busy, but often it was either a plant or frame, to get rid of someone, or for another pre-determined purpose.
Clive's father left at a young age; as if out of the blue. As far as Clive knew, he wasn't a heavy drinker, or any sort of addict. He could take care of himself just fine as well, being well built and running a family business at the nearby flier dealership along with his uncle. With father gone and Clive only being 13 at the time, he'd trug along in high school till the age of 16 and drop out, deciding best to help in the family business and take care of his mother. He wasn't much of a stickler to the sciences or maths either while in school, preferring rather his physical education classes, weight room sessions, or working down in the school's workshop even on after-hours. It was while working there that he thought most about his father and where he would have gone; what could have happened to him. He wasn't the most behaved kid either, often getting into fights and returning home with bruises and wounds, sometimes even cuts and bringing with it bad reports from school. What mattered to him, though, was to not look weak but rather gain notable respect. When he dropped out, he felt relieved to leave it behind, but also wondered what the future would bring him.
At the age of 18, Clive received an unexpected surprise; a letter from the navy calling to a mandatory enlisting into the Liberty Navy Forces, due to war breaking out between Liberty and Rheinland. Enlisting in and leaving his in-tears mother behind with the care of his uncle, he soon found himself in training and ending up being positioned into an interceptor squadron after excelling at piloting light-fighter craft. As the position was dangerous, Clive would receive higher than normal pay and would enter the thickest of battles and managing to dodge incoming projectiles and missiles in order to pin the enemy's valued ships in position for assault. The drive and adrenaline pushed him to sometimes perform highly skilled but rewarding maneuvers and reserved rewards for his intuition and bravery in the heat of battle.
Progressing in the ranks, Clive gained more important missions, leading towards entering a new squadron dedicated to fight alongside the LNS-Archangel, a battleship dreadnought dedicated to spearheading the enemy and breaking formations. Some of the highest skilled pilots were members of the squad, and Clive soon found himself around good company but also catching his eyes on a certain attractive individual.
She was a redhead, strong for her size, a hot body, and had a fiery character. Able to fit in easily with the boys, she wouldn't be afraid to speak her mind or stand up for herself. If challenged or ridiculed, she'd make it clear she was equal, if not more skilled than the challenger. She had a good sense of humor too, and easily approachable. Clive was met with admiration, respect, and even love towards her.
Over time on breaks and rest in-between missions, he'd talk and learn more about her: her hobbies, interests, some aspirations. They seemed to connect very well. Clive know, however, that there was a rule to not date other pilots as their line of work held no promise of tomorrow. Even so, he drew closer to her, thinking when this would be all over then perhaps they'd kick something off.
Unfortunately, things did not go as he had dreamed. The squad was send off on a highly important high risk mission with its battleship into the front-lines of enemy territory, down into Hamburg on a raid and assault near the planet. He could make out in the distance the armada of enemy forces grouping to take them on as they themselves prepared for battle. Their orders were to break up enemy formations and split the enemy forces in two, dividing their power by half while the rest of the navy forces would attack and bomb key targets before making a retreat. When they received their signal, the squadron was sent forward to draw fire while the battering ram of the LNS-Archangel drew evermore closer with the rest of the forces in the rear. As the arrow-head pierced forward, unexpectedly more ships appeared from thin air, uncloaking in front of their eyes and engaging in brutal assault. Projectiles and missiles rained down on them from all directions as they began intense evasive maneuvering to cope with the sudden tactical counter. Among the constant warnings of incoming missiles, flashes from heavy mortars, and fast projectiles, Clive listened to the transmission while holding his breath.
Black Box Recording Wrote:>Red: There's too many! ****ING HELL! Hold steady... COMMON! I've got some on my 3 and 6!
>Clive: Keep it together, hold on... I'll take some off your back!
>Charlie: We're moving in to help! Hold tight!
>Red: You've got too many, no! I'm... .... I'm taking damage! Hull is breaking!!
>Clive: Use the damn nanobots and get back to Overlord!! Take cover around it!!
>Red: Can't... ... too many bogies! Retreat while you have the chance!
>Beta: Enemy Squadron at 7! BOGIES AT 7!
>Clive: You'll make it, YOU WILL MAKE IT! Damn Krouts... Keep her together for just a little longer!
>Red: This is Red Fox to Overlord Angel. I'm in trouble.... .... MAYDAY MAYDAY, I've CAUGHT ON FIRE!!
>Clive: DAMN DON'T GIVE UP NOW!! YOU'LL MAKE IT!
>Red: Getting hot!! LOOSING POWER!!! TELL THEM I LOV--
***Red Fox Signal Lost***
Until this moment during the war, Clive had not felt the intense feeling of loss as he did now, matching only to how he felt with his father. Managing to put the feelings aside, break free, and retreat for cover, he survived with several others in the squadron that day, with several other losses. The event hit home for him of how stupid this whole war was, as he felt like a pawn, ready to be eliminated or replaced on the chess board, and only valued as a number among the whole. He questioned for the purpose of the war and whether there was any gain from it. So many people perished on both sides... and for what purpose? The girl he knew was now gone, as well as her dreams, hopes, ambitions.... all that remained in the end was her memory.
After the war was over, Clive was discharged from the army, along with many others including those from his squadron. He would form The Archangel's Fighter Club which was initially the members of the squadron hanging out and having a good time, unable to get back into the real pace of regular life and craving adrenaline in their fighters. Clive left himself behind in the navy, taking his nickname as his new name and resented the navy and what they had forced him to do; what they forced him to be a part of. The Club would serve to commemorate and keep the memories he had back then and keep them from fading away. The emblem of the A.F.C was created and meant a lot to the members, calling the centerpiece woman's silhouette "The Red Lady." To Sunny, it was so much more...
Criminal Record:
Ships:
Badges Earned:
08-02-2017, 08:17 PM
Alexander Thrace
Nickname: Racetrack
Age / Origin: 43 / Omicrons
Rank: Vice President
Chapter: Bering
Skill Chart:
Background:
TBA
Criminal Record:
Ships:
{AFC}-Hot.andGreasy[VP]
{AFC}-Black.Raven[VP]
{AFC}-Mighty.Shark[VP]
{AFC}-Silver.Falcon[VP]
{AFC}-Silverstone[VP]
{AFC}-Mad.Falcon[VP]
{AFC}-Protector[VP]
{AFC}-Bloody.Hornet[VP]
{AFC}-Nasty.Torpedo[VP]
{AFC}-Peach.Blossom[VP]
{AFC}-Black.Mantis[VP]
{AFC}-Maniac.Power[VP]
{AFC}-White.Lion[VP]
{AFC}-Mystery.Ride[VP]
{AFC}-Golden.Eagle[VP]
{AFC}-White.Comet[VP]
{AFC}-Bugatti-163[B]
{AFC}-Daytona-B66[B]
{AFC}-Gideon[B]
{AFC}-Hotdog[B]
{AFC}-Old.Ride[B]
{AFC}-Geisha.Palace[B]
{AFC}-Kobol[B]
{AFC}-Rattlesnake[B]
{AFC}-Dirty.Rat[B]
{AFC}-Dragon's.Blade[B]
{AFC}-Mad.Dog[B]
{AFC}-Scorpion[B]
{AFC}-Tarantula[B]
{AFC}-Bloody.Mary[B]
{AFC}-Chapter.Bank[B]
{AFC}-White.Falcon[B]
{AFC}-Maniac.Falcon[B]
{AFC}-Monster.Cheese[B]
Badges Earned:
08-02-2017, 08:18 PM
08-02-2017, 08:18 PM
Hyun Shik
Nickname:
Age / Origin: 20 / Kusari
Rank: Cheif Engineer
Chapter: Kepler
Skill Chart:
Background:
A natural talented and skilled navigator, Hyun Shik was able at a very early age to plot courses with precision, accuracy, and high efficiency. Able to think three-dimensionaly, outside of the box, and in moments of intense pressure, he would be a key assets in any space organization.
Born on Planet Kyushu, Hyun grew up in a wealthy home with career pursuing and high IQ parents. Eager for their child to over-succeed in life, they pushed him though intense learning when they noticed a hint of his intelligence. The boy grew up, leaning quickly in the subjects of mathematics and the sciences, performing outstandingly well in advanced classes. While the boy had dreams of one day becoming a space fighter pilot for the navy or even the rebellious Blood Dragons, the boy was instead found by the IMG while looking in schools for potential talented children. At the age of 13, Hyun was granted the possibility of an early scholarship and contract to work for the IMG, offering to help continue his studies outside of school and learn out in the field in co-op sessions. His parents agreed, sending Hyun off to work for The Guild. Hyun started with small freighters, flying basic scrap to miners in need of repairs. After quickly getting the handle of the basic controls, he would travel up the ladder and gain more trust and responsibility, despite his age. He quickly learned and memorized starmaps, being able to often pinpoint with high accuracy the location of jump holes and stations as well as plot travel courses in his mind. As he traveled and explored, he would remember and be aware of his location and how he got there, even when sensors performed at limited range. As a result, his travel times got shorter progressively and his supervisors became more confident in him as his scheduled check-ins began to stop happening.
Finally, one man decided to test Hyun and asked him to ship a load of alien organisms halfway across Sirius, requiring in his order to have them all safely arrive at its destination. Hyun agreed, not knowing that the cargo would be quickly deteriorating. He left early in the morning eagerly, excited to travel. Only several hours later, before the man would take a bite out of his breakfast, did he receive a phone call from the receiving party:
Call From Client Wrote:Man: Hello? Can I help you?
Client: Ah hello, I am speaking on behalf of our company who ordered the alien organisms from you the other day.
Man: Ah yes, is something wrong? We have the cargo already--
Client: Quite the contrary, sir. I just wanted to personally thank you. We have already received the cargo and it is fully intact despite us ordering extra.
Man: But, that can't be ours... It's only been 5 hours since the shipment left. The cargo was scheduled to arrive this evening by our best estimates--
Client: Well unless the ship's ID signature has a doppelganger with a similar cargo hold, it's arrived. Anyway, where can I send a tip for the outstanding work?
With the success of the mission, Hyun was presented with a heavy transport named The Sunikuu~ingu and given clearance to higher class missions IMG had to offer. He had a motto painted on his ship "Fast and Guaranteed". He flew any cargo required in half the time of the other pilots and was being offered raises and benefits for being valuable to The Guild.
As Hyun's fame grew, so did his infamy. Other pilots secretly began to be jealous of his success in the guild and began to stalk him, charting out his routes. Oblivious to what was happening, Hyun continued his work but quickly noticed an increase in pirate reports where he would fly. As his times dropped to account for the dangers, his "opponent's" times increased. By the time he had caught onto what was happening, the damage had already been dealt. His contacts stopped hiring him as his age was young and still seemed "ill experienced", rather hiring older pilots with years of experience. Hyun was forced to take on lower paying missions to keep up, and as the pressure grew to stay on top he was not able to accept his situation and started to crash from the shock of his failures. He turned to drinking and gambling to ease the pain for a time, getting easily drunk and forgetting about his problems with no one to support him. As a result his financial side also took a hard dive, loosing most of his credits.
Just when he was about to give everything up, an idea sparked into his mind. He had seen Archangel members around from time to time, aiding in escorts with the IMG and decided to move onto a new chapter in his life. He sold his ship along with most of his possessions and made contact with one of the members, soon introducing himself to Sunny. Being accepted as a Virgin, in a few days he had already impressed them enough to become a full member with a new ship to perform smuggling routes. As he figured: if you are going to get caught trading anyway, you might as well make it worth your while.
Later as The Club was looking for club members interested in research and development, Hyun eagerly applied. After showing his potential he was given leader status of the division. He is now working as head researcher, having his hands in several AFC projects.
Criminal Record:
Ships:
Badges Earned:
08-02-2017, 08:18 PM
Frank Gambit
Nickname: Gambit
Age / Origin:
Rank:Chapter Official
Chapter: Bering
Skill Chart:
Background:
The streets of the New Catalonia peninsula never looked so bad. The once higher end Nightlife district of Planet Manhattans capital city, had fallen into decay as a result of the expansion of the Planets main Cargo Space Port. With the expansion, came a new approach path for all spacecraft and the approach path brought it directly over New Catalonia.
Over night, most high end business owners, closed up shop and left for cleaner seas. The shoreline for the most part was now a collection of boarded up restaurants and hotels, with a collection of low end dive bars still surviving on the side streets that ran off of the now decrepit and mostly vacant boardwalk.
The city government, once accustomed to having some of the highest tax revenues of the planet, now struggled with funding even the simplest of city services. With this in mind, the New Catalonia Urban Council, had instructed the head of local law enforcement corporation to no longer issue citations for possession of small amounts of narcotics and prostitution.
They had realized that unless they turned a blind eye towards certain infractions, they would scare off any fish left in their little stagnant and vile pond. Any tax revenue from what little businesses was left, was better than no tax revenue at all. The decision had come at a cost, and the lavishness had given way to decadence, the opulence and new ship smell had morphed into littered alleys and pissed on street corners, pleasant sounds of the ocean waves, now drowned out by the screaming pulsing engines of inbound space ships.
For Frank Gambit, the worse it looked, the more money he made. He realized he was getting to old to work the doors anymore. Bouncing was a younger dumber mans game, and if his years of experienced had taught him anything, it was that New Catalonia was a small kingdom looking for a king. It was still early enough in the cities decline, that anyone could lay down a claim to a street corner and not be stepping on anyone´s toes.
With that in mind, he had been doing all kinds of side jobs and had put together a small amount of credits for the purchase and transfer a small but well situated nightclub. It was in the worst part of New Catalonia, less than 3oo meters from the Small Freighter inbound approach path. And that to him, was the beauty of the plan.
He was almost flat broke again. Flipping contraband only got you so far. You always had to deal with a middleman. It was always hard trying to save up some scratch, and you usually spent half of your earnings trying to make your next sale. And while the cops were no longer ticketing for possession, they were still on the take....only now, what they lost in salary cut backs, they made up for on the streets and then some. Dealing with the cops was easy though, compared to what would come around when he started making some real cash. He was gonna need some new friends or associates, and he new it. New Catalonia had become a "See here, Say here, stays here" kinda place. No one cries when someone ends up face to the pavement in New Catalonia.
Frank Gambit joined AFC two years ago, looking for a way to earn enough credits to open up his own bar on planet New York. Since that time he has had frequent run ins with the Rhienland and Liberty lawful forces. He is a known hater of anything Gallic and regularly assist in the resupply of resistance forces on Planet Leeds. He has also received the tittle of "Bulwark of Kusari" for the assistance he gave the Empire during a recent Nomad attack. He has pulled the clubs President ass out of the fire on more than one occasion, most notably when Sunny got podded by the Unioners in the Omega 7 system. His time spent with the Liberty Navy as a crew chief on a gunboat is a little known fact among other club members and while he participates in the racing events hosted by the club, he is more of a hands on type of invidual. He has archived the rank of Bering Chapter Official.
Criminal Record:
Ships:
{AFC}-F.Gambit[B]
{AFC}-Sirius.Express[B]
{AFC}-The.Wilkinson[B]
{AFC}-The.Huntsman[B]
Badges Earned:
08-02-2017, 08:19 PM
Mons Bergovitz [Inactive Name]
Nickname: "The Adad"
Age / Origin: 23 / Rheinland
Rank:
Chapter: Bering
Skill Chart:
Background:
Mons was born on Planet Stuttgart. He grew up in an average home as an only child though did not make friends easily. Due to feeling alone and distant from others, Mons grew slowly to resent people, going further into himself. He wouldn't care much about others and would often resort to acts of vandalism, expressing his hate through the damage he left behind. While others tried to get close to him, he would push them aside, not wanting contact. At an early age, his parents thought it would be just a faze for the boy, but then later gave up on trying to aid him. When he turned 16, his parents grew enough of him and all his damage he caused and kicked him out of the home, thinking he'd return soon after thinking about his attitude. This however only made things worse, as Mons decided to leave his home behind, feeling totally abandoned and his life ruined. Living on the streets for weeks and staying alive from petty begging and pick-pocketing, he would dive himself into selling drugs, taking some himself on occasion.
His dealings hit a jackpot when he gathered an unusually high amount of credits, selling his whole stash of drugs to a a dealer from a local nightclub that had opened up. He had not seen that much credits in all his life but knew he wanted to leave his old life behind and start anew, hearing some stories every now and then from people that explore deep space. With the little credits he had gathered, Mons purchased a Stargazer and set out into the unknown, careful though to bypass local police force security and make a clean leave from the darker side of the planet.
Taking off into space, Mons did not care where he headed. His only desire was to get out of civilization. His desire was so high that he traveled and ended up in the Omicrons, running on food and fuel stops here and there. Yet after a few weeks spent in the Omicrons, he changed dramatically. He had seen things no kid would wish of seeing and only in dreams. He saw nomads.
His hatred for people was diverted towards the nomad species. While on a trip through a desolate system as he was looking for a strange signal calling to him from deep space. As he got closer, he approached a ship wreckage and got closer, wondering what was inside. Curiosity overtook him as he boarded the wreak and went inside to explore, but soon he would quickly regret ever entering. As he entered the command room of the wreaked ship, he discovered bodies and blood spilt on the ground, staining into the floor. As he witnessed the evidence of what could only be a massacre, he did not notice someone creeping behind him. He turned around and to his supersize went face-to-face with who could only be the killer, a man in a space suite wielding a bloodied knife in his hand and a severed head, held by the hair, with the other. Fear overcame him and he ran for his life, but what he remembered from the man the most was piercing purple eyes, as if blazing down on him in rage.
The experience left a large mark over him and he was determined to find out more, though with his research, he found himself dealing with all sorts of shifty people and doing smuggling jobs and the like. After two years in the Omicrons, he ventured to Liberty with a load of artifacts with him, eager to grab his share of payday. With him, he brought a matured darker version of himself, eager to continue smuggling work and hanging around with the wrong crowed, sometimes doing more serious acts of vandalism with the local Liberty Police Force close on his tail but every time managing to slip away.
From smuggling, he went further into the unlawful underground of Manhattan's cities, purchasing a fighter ship he named "The Adad" and doing illegal bounties for local gangs including the rogues. What once terrified him in that wreckage had gradually overtaken him as he drove into lunacy; madness. He considered his targets as "nomads", to make his work easier, changing his target into merely an object to eliminate.
At the age of 23, his Stargazer was shot down by the liberty forces while performing a bounty contract for the Rogues in a high priority mission and was left to drift in space, left abandoned. He was luckily found by a Rogue patrol, which tractored him to initially salvage him and his ship, dead or alive for themselves. Threatening him with slavery after realizing he had survived but failed, Mons agreed to a counter-offer to pay his dues, offering to perform organ transplants to sell on the Black Market. To numb the pain, he was given a drastically high dose of pain-relieving drugs that knocked him out cold, though in the process wiping certain details from his memory, including his own name. After that moment, he was known to the Rogues by the ship he failed on: The Adad.
Feeling broken and worthless, he took off from the Rogues after making a get-away and taking some supplies and credits he could gather with him. He would land from on bar to another, drinking away his worries though not really caring about his health as his liver and other related organs would be replaced by mechanical 'organs', allowing him to drink more than the usual man. Landing inside one night club, he would meet some Archangel members and soon learn about them and their brotherly bond...
Criminal Record:
Ships:
{AFC}-Labraid[B]
{AFC}-Shrine[B]
Badges Earned:
08-02-2017, 08:19 PM
