07-31-2018, 07:33 PM
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[/td][/tr][/table]Agent Washington
former human - freelancer - manipulative
He wasn't great with technology in general. He was a soldier. There were those that went into specific fields for that kind of stuff, and Washington hadn't been one of them. He knew how to work with heavy machinery, by driving it. Fixing it though? That would take a little bit of time unless he had some sort of manual to help him with it at all. He was far too stubborn to ask the likes of others to come and help him figure out what he was trying to do with the damn helmet. The technology that was inside the helmet probably more advanced than what others could actually think of it. Now, if this was a gun he would know the ins and outs of it. How to take it apart and put it back together. It was easy that way. Guns were usually made almost the exact same way, and that was a pattern that one could memorize when looking at a gun. Whether the gun was alien or not. He had never really had any interest in the alien technology that they usually got because it wasn't his business. And he would rather stay away from the stuff that had nearly killed him several times during the first portion of his military career. He had his own reasons for liking and not liking certain things. He was a great shot, and like every other soldier had been given a time on how fast he could take apart a gun and then put it back together just like it was new.
It was one of the more fun exercises that they had done, and cleaning his battle rifle had been one of the many ways that would keep him busy and from being bored out of his mind. Most of the time while he was in the military they were out doing something but there were instances where they had a couple days until the next patrol or the next mission that would be given to them. There was little time to rest, and if there was, Washington sometimes kept working, or simply tried to catch up on sleep. Those that were in the military were used to working on little to no sleep, and that was how Washington would end up becoming, especially during Project Freelancer where they had to keep watch if they were trying to set up an ambush. Sometimes they would be right on target, or something that they didn't anticipate could happen and they would have to improvise. Washington didn't like to improvise. Give him a gun and he would be completely content. It was strange not being able to reach under his pillow if he heard a noise and grab the gun that was there. Now all he had were claws and they weren't exactly that affected. The one that had managed to fight more though, was probably Carolina, as the last time he tried to fight someone he ended up getting his arm broken. One of the more frustrating injuries that he had gotten, and his first injury that he had gotten since he was in this outpost. He wished he had something that he could properly fight with than just his paws.
Close combat not being his specialty despite how bulky he already was. Luckily for Diya, Washington had sisters when he was younger. There was little he could remember about them though thanks to the memory loss. He tried his best to remember the good times that he had with his family but those memories were replaced. He wasn't given a choice, and it was almost sad that he could barely remember his childhood anymore. It just made the growing hate for the AI's and the Director burn even further into his stomach. It pissed him off that was for damn certain. The Freelancer flicked one of his ears when he heard pawsteps that were coming toward him. Washington had to rely on his hearing as he couldn't smell anything inside of his helmet, meaning he couldn't realize on scents. He turned to look over his shoulder as his paw hovered over the wires inside of Tex's helmet before he saw a small white domestic cat. A child. Great. What did they want? Washington thought that they were going to bug him, and that was the last thing the smilodon needed while he was working. This wasn't the case though as he watched the female sit down with her book, and then just start reading. Oh.
Washington didn't say anything as he wasn't in the mood for any sort of conversation and went back to what he was doing. He looked to the left of where his notebook was at, looking at the wires that were labeled in his drawing. Grabbing the soldering iron next to him, careful with curling his paw around it, he began to melt the different wires together. The sizzling sound certainly reaching the child's ears. There was a small voice in the back of his head that was telling him that the creature behind him was sent by those that lived in this outpost to keep an eye on him. He didn't like it, but he wasn't about to snap at a child just because he was paranoid. Washington's body language remained stiff as it usually was. There was an instance where Washington ended up burning one of his toes with the soldering iron, making him hiss as he shook his paw to get the burning sensation to stop. It wasn't that bad, thanks to his high pain tolerance, but it was still uncomfortable to deal with and the last thing he needed was to set his fur on fire. He turned the page again, stopped what he was doing so that he could read. Washington believed that he was making some sense of progress.
howieIt was one of the more fun exercises that they had done, and cleaning his battle rifle had been one of the many ways that would keep him busy and from being bored out of his mind. Most of the time while he was in the military they were out doing something but there were instances where they had a couple days until the next patrol or the next mission that would be given to them. There was little time to rest, and if there was, Washington sometimes kept working, or simply tried to catch up on sleep. Those that were in the military were used to working on little to no sleep, and that was how Washington would end up becoming, especially during Project Freelancer where they had to keep watch if they were trying to set up an ambush. Sometimes they would be right on target, or something that they didn't anticipate could happen and they would have to improvise. Washington didn't like to improvise. Give him a gun and he would be completely content. It was strange not being able to reach under his pillow if he heard a noise and grab the gun that was there. Now all he had were claws and they weren't exactly that affected. The one that had managed to fight more though, was probably Carolina, as the last time he tried to fight someone he ended up getting his arm broken. One of the more frustrating injuries that he had gotten, and his first injury that he had gotten since he was in this outpost. He wished he had something that he could properly fight with than just his paws.
Close combat not being his specialty despite how bulky he already was. Luckily for Diya, Washington had sisters when he was younger. There was little he could remember about them though thanks to the memory loss. He tried his best to remember the good times that he had with his family but those memories were replaced. He wasn't given a choice, and it was almost sad that he could barely remember his childhood anymore. It just made the growing hate for the AI's and the Director burn even further into his stomach. It pissed him off that was for damn certain. The Freelancer flicked one of his ears when he heard pawsteps that were coming toward him. Washington had to rely on his hearing as he couldn't smell anything inside of his helmet, meaning he couldn't realize on scents. He turned to look over his shoulder as his paw hovered over the wires inside of Tex's helmet before he saw a small white domestic cat. A child. Great. What did they want? Washington thought that they were going to bug him, and that was the last thing the smilodon needed while he was working. This wasn't the case though as he watched the female sit down with her book, and then just start reading. Oh.
Washington didn't say anything as he wasn't in the mood for any sort of conversation and went back to what he was doing. He looked to the left of where his notebook was at, looking at the wires that were labeled in his drawing. Grabbing the soldering iron next to him, careful with curling his paw around it, he began to melt the different wires together. The sizzling sound certainly reaching the child's ears. There was a small voice in the back of his head that was telling him that the creature behind him was sent by those that lived in this outpost to keep an eye on him. He didn't like it, but he wasn't about to snap at a child just because he was paranoid. Washington's body language remained stiff as it usually was. There was an instance where Washington ended up burning one of his toes with the soldering iron, making him hiss as he shook his paw to get the burning sensation to stop. It wasn't that bad, thanks to his high pain tolerance, but it was still uncomfortable to deal with and the last thing he needed was to set his fur on fire. He turned the page again, stopped what he was doing so that he could read. Washington believed that he was making some sense of progress.
Tags | Updated 07/27/18:
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