I can move mountains / joining

[Elon]

You spoke of roses- all I feel are thorns ・°☆ } ——— [size=10pt]info

Her tummy sounds like distant thunder, rumbling loud and gurgling in a choir cry of need. It's been a long time since she's been starving, 100s of years really, and she certainly doesn't miss the novelty of the feeling. It just makes her bitter that she currently doesn't have the means to just appear some food, just make it so, because it's what she desires (and she's so used to getting what she wants). And oh what foods she desires right now! Pancakes, meat pie, porridge, beer! Elon sighs and squints at nothing in particular as she pauses in her wanderings. [b]"Well this sucks."

So she plops down in an effort to conserve energy and in vain, tries to sap some from the environment. It only frustrates her further, making her curse this stupid form (but not literally, she needs it, even if it is weak). Aren't cats, the familiars of her ilk, meant to be more mystical than others? So why is she dead in the water magically now? She could try to force sustenance out of this forest the animal way, hunting, but Elon doesn't have the coordination in this form just yet. Besides, the thought of gobbling down rodent guts is just as repulsive as starving right now because she's not that desparate. She's had to do it before when she had her normal form that wasn't made for that and she's still in that mindset. Cats eat rats, but not this cat. She'll hold out hope for something, anything else.

To do that, she must keep moving. She stands up strong, puts a slender white paw forward-- then immediately collapses onto the ground. Rolling around in the field  she holds her stomach. "I hate this! I don't want to die and be little field rat food! That's too ironic for me! Help! Helppp!" She finally gets to a universe that seems like her old one and now she's going to die in the wilderness like she was meant to many moons ago? Bummer.

[Zjarr]

[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Hunger was not a powerful feeling he was unfamiliar with, but due to his experience as a nomadic hunter he had learned to quickly secure and scavenge for nourishment when his body needed the support. Generally the demon was capable of going quite a bit of time without anything to fill his stomach, but he simply didn't enjoy fasting most of the time. He had a passion for a good meal that would ravage any group's food storage. It was quite interesting how he managed to still have some leftover barbecue—likely because no one wanted to eat it. Well...it was a cat that he had skinned and roasted, but it was food, nonetheless! He'd hold out for anyone who wanted a piece simply because he was ever-so-generous like that.

Frankly, the cyborg wolf took every chance he could to flee from the primary activity hubs of the Ascendants, so to avoid those who didn't take too kindly to his presence. Since he'd secured a room for himself he had been trying to steer clear from many others—this was not because he hated social confrontation (he found it to be a nuisance at worst), but rather to diverge from any potential disputes that would very quickly be made public. Clearly it already has. Just about every fucker here practically considered Pele a daughter or niece or little sister or cousin or whatever the hell. And they didn't see him as her father whatsoever.

This was what led him to a brief walk, which would in turn lead to the discovery of the rolling, thrashing white domestic feline in the midst of the plains. Zjarr watched the scene unfold with an almost disinterested and bored dullness in his natural chocolate brown eye, but he presumed that he ought to interfere anyway. After all, someone who yells "I DON'T WANT TO DIE" clearly has to be in dire need of assistance, right? "Hey, hey!" the wolf called, making his way across the field of looming grass over to the feline. "What the hell's the problem here? Ya hurt, miss?" He had witnessed her attempt to walk and then collapse to the ground, so he figured that something was very amiss with the cat. Along with the fact that, well, she was literally writhing around. The wolf glanced over his shoulder in the hopes that maybe someone else would arrive and help with the situation. Hopefully some sort of medic.

[glow=#f24b00,2,300]how'd it get so scandalous?[/glow] — ☼

[Elon]

You spoke of roses- all I feel are thorns ・°☆ } ——— [size=10pt]info

'This is going to be terrible,' she thinks. Not because of how she may die but how she'll look if someone finds her. Stomach swollen, eyes buldging- she'll be a fat corpse even though she died of starvation. That and rat food is just too humiliating. But alas, it seems that won't be a problem because she's caught a lucky break! Her cat instincts tell her she's no so lucky since it seems to be a dog trotting over but she ignores that in favor of the fact that well, he's not nibbling on her head yet and he's talking all concerned. Then she realizes he's not a dog but a wolf and that's a little unnerving for her person self. Though if she were her person self, she'd probably be trying to eat him right now. The metal bits would have proven an issue however...

She shakes her head to steady her wandering mind then rolls onto her stomach and clears her throat. She's quick to recover as her vanity preserves even as she wastes away. Elon blows a reed from her forehead then puts a pearly pink pawpad to her cheek. He seems friendly enough but she's still pretty cautious. She's never seen a cyborg before after all and she wonders what strange magic brought that about? She'd certainly like to harness some of it. But first thing's first. [b]"Oh, haha. I'm just a little snackish. Got anything to eat? Anything good. Something, someone?" She laughs airly even though it hurts her empty stomach. "A joke, of course." It's not.

Elon tries to stand but that's just not going to happen right now so she pretends like she was just adjusting. "I was just trying a, uh, fasting diet. I have to keep my figure of course." She fluffs her cheek fur. "Seems my body is trying to tell me it's perfect already. Care to help me out, whatever your name is? I'm Elon."

[rhosmari]

[align=center][div style="0px; width:450px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px; color:black;"]"Usually no one jokes about eating someone." At least not from where she came from so she was not very inclined to believe that it was a joke at all. Frankly the woman didn't know why she had even made her way over here. Perhaps it was the over the top screams that had forced her from her solitude. A part of her wished she had just stayed where she was so she didn't have to be bothered with all the nonsense and backwater ways that this group functioned on. Already she had seen a joining and frankly it made no real sense to her. All the animal did was sit there and then request to join and then poof suddenly they were a member without even having to work for it. It wasn't something she thought should be so lightly handed out and also she couldn't fathom wanting to join as a member anyway. There wasn't anything impressive here nor did she find it to her liking thus far with how some of them acted. A frown pulled at her muzzle before she sighed, heated stare fixated on the domestic feline of snow white fur.

Whoever she was she supposed she'd just end up avoiding her too as she did everyone here besides Wash. Or at least she tried to in order to get any sort of work down before they found and started questioning here again. Mildly irritated the ginger colored leopard sat down upon the ground. Well, she had given a name which was Elon and she pulled her ears forward a bit. The name was...pretty but she wouldn't say anything of the sort out loud. It was unnecessary information anyway and she straightened herself up before she rolled her eyes as she looked away from the other. "Agent Carolina. My friend Agent Washington usually carries some type of meat jerky with him. So you can probably ask him for some if you are really that hungry. Other wise do as you please." She wasn't here to snap at her for trespassing or making a scene, that was for one of the members of this place to do. Rising to her paws the wildcat turned her body, preparing to walk away.

[Suiteheart]

SUITE
HEART

As a newly made vampire, Suite knew what the fuck hunger was. While she dealt with it as a normal feline, it was not nearly as terrible as in this new lifestyle. She was hungry nonstop, but she did not like the prospect of having to feed on the blood of others. She was afraid. She was too worried that once she began to dig in, she wouldn't be able to stop. She was too worried about losing control, rampaging, destroying -

'Griffin... Stop.'

Suiteheart wasn't sure how, but the firestorm of her split soul had risen. Griffin was projecting memories into Suite's head, shuffling things around, forcing her to imagine obliterating everything she had ever known or loved in a blind rage. She hadn't meant it, Griffin explained. She had simply lost control of her powers when no one listened to her warnings. Suite tried to relax the 500-year-old being as she neared the group, but the visions were still rolling in her mind's eye.

"Before we give you food, what're you planning on doing here?" the white feline asked, coming to a halt in between Zjarr and Carolina. Baby blue eyes scanned the other fae in guarded curiosity. "Suiteheart, by the way. But call me Suite."

[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags

© [color=black]MADI

[imperia]

[align=center]

Small calloused paws move quietly through the plains, the blades shivering and dancing in the gentle breeze. A petite figure woven from the darkness of space and the shine of starlight moves elegantly through the sea of amber grasses, her gait swift and steady. A pair of brilliant silver eyes gaze adoringly upon the beautiful landscape, a soft smile gracing thin black lips. Imperia thanks the Maker every day for liberating her from that wretched place in the mountains and guiding her to this wonderful place. She only wishes her mother was included in His marvelous plan for her escape, but Peri is careful not to forget Marguerite's sacrifice for her own freedom. It hurts to be without the one person in her entire life who ever truly loved her, but Imperia does not question the will of her god. Everything has a reason and nothing happens without a purpose--she may not always like how events unfold, but she knows that it is impossible to experience happiness until sadness has been endured.

As she wanders dreamily through the fields, the petite she-wolf catches whiff of a large gathering of people. Intrigued, the tenderhearted creature adjusts her trajectory to investigate. As she crests a small hill, she almost immediately hears someone asking for food. Imperia is a simple creature: she hears that someone is need and she goes to help. Combat is not her strong suit and she avoids hunting more than what's necessary for her survival, so the dainty predator found her own niche in terms of aiding those in need. It is a good hobby, she thinks. Makes her feel useful and needed while others receive nourishment or healing or whatever else they might require. She cooks, she cleans, she heals, and she always lends a shoulder to cry on. There are plenty of individuals within the Ascendants to take of the mantle of defender and warrior. And Imperia? Well, she is merely a caretaker, but she likes it this way. The young female carefully makes her way towards the newcomer, a warm smile gracing her lovely visage. Lithe muscles ripple beneath an argentine pelt as the angelic healer weaves through the crowd with doelike grace. Most of the individuals are unfamiliar with the exception of Suiteheart and perhaps Carolina, but only the former is friendly enough for Imperia to feel comfortable around.

"Bonjour," she greets in a soft voice. As the girl settles into a seated position, she is surprised to hear Carolina mention that Washington carries snacks with him. Her ears prick with interest. A tiny smile tugs at her lips. He likes them! Imperia was unsure if her armored friend would appreciate the jerky she prepared for him after hearing he did not like consuming raw meat. Pleased with that information, the girl cannot help but speak up and say, "I-I actually have some jerky with me now if you would like some.." Kind yet awkward.

[| AGENT WASHINGTON |]

Despite the place being flowing with prey almost every single day, Washington had struggled to find out what he was capable of eating from the very beginning. Being used to being human, he was used to cooked food and even MRE's when he worked for the military. The stuff tasted horrible, but at least it was some semblance of food anyway. Washington didn't exactly know what it was like to really go out and hunt for their own food when he was even a human. With the Great War that had kicked everything off, it meant that Earth didn't think about the animals that were on their planet while the War was going on. Instead, Washington usually just ate the basics of what they could manage to afford during the crisis of War. It was difficult living, but everyone was going through with it and the entirety of the human race was working hard so that they didn't face the likes of extinction either. He did everything that he could to support his family once he was old enough as his mother was a single mother when his father had died during the Great War.

The loss of his father never really did anything to Washington because he was far too young to even really remember what the face of his father even really looked like. He also had to think about the two sisters that he was supposed to take care of, being the other brother already meant that he had responsibilities and his mother had raised him right on exactly how to deal with them even while he was outnumbered. Could he remember any of the good times that he had when he was a kid? No, he couldn't. Not anymore at least. Those memories had been replaced with different ones, and the only way that he could even figure that out was because they didn't feel like they were placed correctly and that the names didn't sound familiar in those said memories. He only remembered a portion of his childhood now, leaving holes and blank spaces in his mind, and that had all been because his mind had been invaded by someone else. Washington knew that he was mentally messed up. He also knew that there was probably no way for him to get over his damaged mind if he even tried. But the last episode he had was several days ago and he hadn't gone back to the way he once was.

It was easier for everyone around him to believe that he was okay, as it meant that they would have no reason to doubt why he did certain things. Right now he was wearing a facade that was practically perfect to make others think that he was on their side when he wasn't thinking twice about betraying them if they did get in his way. Washington had no reason to think that he could trust anyone that he came across thanks to the wounds that were still so fresh along his back. The betrayal of the Program that he had basically donated his entire life in order to better that of the human race only to turn out that what they were doing had nothing to do with them. And instead, it had to deal with someone's obsession with everything that was going on. The male didn't want to get stabbed in the back and therefore he distanced himself from those that he met. Not establishing any friendly bonds in his mind, while others may think of him as more of a comrade. Washington could care less what they thought of him as long as they were willing to give him the supplies that they were going to need to get back to the way that they were.

Even now, his comrade Carolina was a threat to his well being if she figured out what he was planning on doing when he got back. He knew what her plan would be when she returned to being human, but Washington had a better idea that meant gaining the trust of the man that betrayed and killed their friends only to bring the program to justice. He would much rather have it end without violence because of all the shit that had happened. Washington didn't want anyone to die, and if anything the man would just rot in a cell without anyone remembering him. No one would just a man that had been broken over and over again. The armored smilodon usually went on patrols around the border of the outpost to make sure that he didn't miss anything while he was walking around. Considering that Carolina had popped up on the border there was a chance that another Freelancer could do the same and once that happened he knew that it was all going to hell again. He knew that he could have some form of trust in Carolina, but everyone else? He wasn't sure because he didn't know what side they were on when it came to the time where their ship crash-landed on a snow planet before exploding.

The Freelancer didn't want to take any chances when he could still easily die in this body as he wasn't exactly the greatest fighter and never had been. But adjusting to a new body was going to take him time, and he hadn't even been here around a month either. The smilodon himself was around the size of a lion but had the weight between that of a tiger and lion. He had the claw shape of that of a tiger, being a saber-toothed tiger after all. The armor that he wore across his body certainly made him a bit heavier than the average animal, and the armor he wore was still incredibly light considering that it was made out of titanium. Titanium being UNSC standard for any sort of armored suit. Right now he was the only one that had that kind of armor, not even Carolina having any of her armor right now. Something that he was still on the lookout for too. He wore a helmet that hid all of his facial features and hid the scar that was on the back of his neck, although only a little bit. If he had an undersuit no one would have been able to see the scars. Not like it mattered because he wouldn't answer any question regarding his implantation. The entire time that Carolina was around though, the Freelancer was making sure to keep a close eye on her so that she didn't get attacked by someone.

Not to save Carolina, but to save the one that was attacking her just in case. Washington heard his name being spoken as he was lagging behind from where Carolina had approached whatever was happening. The size difference would almost make it seem like Washington was capable of taking on the likes of the Carolina, but their first interaction with one another would say differently. He could barely balance in the body that he was currently in. It wasn't hard to hear the smilodon coming, as he stopped slightly off to the side of Carolina. He regarded those that were around and realized that he knew everyone that had gathered except for one. His helmet looking down at the domestic cat that was just laying there. She looked like Suiteheart, but slightly different and he hadn't managed to catch the other's name. All he had managed to catch with the conversation was his name, and Carolina had said that. "You called Boss?" Washington said with a small tease in his voice. But of course, he carried the jerky that Imperia had provided with him in case he got hungry, or if Carolina decided that she didn't want to eat and he would bug her to eat anyway. His helmet had turned toward the leopard but looked at everyone else as if to figure out what was happening in the situation. "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

[Elon]

You spoke of roses- all I feel are thorns ・°☆ } ——— [size=10pt]info

[b]"Well, good comedy's not for everyone," she says back to Carolina with a smile that quirks a little far toward her ear. That's a pretty tame one, she thinks, though she's right in her suspicions in a way. Still in a human mindset, animals for food is pretty normal and starving colonists don't differentiate domestic from wild in those circumstances. This one though, is too big for food and puts her in awe because she's never seen such creatures.  Maybe whispers of some in books she wasn't allowed to read. "Wow, you're a big kitty." Why couldn't she be something like that? The title 'agent' really takes her off track though and her tired eyes almost seem to shine. "Like a secret agent? A suppper secret agent?" Should she trust agent food? Elon isn't sure she has a choice and oh how talk of it makes makes her stomach cry. She has to hold her breath a moment to muffle it away.

"B-being fed..., would be very pleasing right now. An absolute delight." She sounds a little desparate now because by word she really is shriveling with each breath. Her mouth is watering at the thought of the jerky, a food she's quite used to, when suddenly her face sours. What? Just feed her already! Laughing dryly, Elon forces politeness before she pauses a bit to stare at Suiteheart.  It does throw her off how they look alike but once again because of that human way of thinking. She wouldn't have batted an eye then at seeing two white cats, but now that she is a white cat...  "Uh, I'm here to stay here a while or something- I can do that right? I heard food here is just great ." Well, they're different anyway! Suite is clearly linen white, while she's cotton white and Suite has baby blue eyes and she has cyan eyes and she's bigger and shorter furred and who is she kidding- Elon wants back her long red locks, her lithe figure, her rbf that such a cute face as this one just can't perform. But she will never, ever give up fighting for the fairest title, even as a dumb cat.

"Elon. Good to meet you. You have a good fashion sense in... skin." Oh boy, oh  wow, that came out bad. Doesn't work outside of the craft. Moving on. Her eyes flick away quick in a flush and Elon catches sight of another wolf, Imperia, approaching, but this one much more meek seeming. She always liked meek girls, they're a lot easier to manipulate, but they can also be dangerous on the inside. She knows from experience. But this creature wants to feed her and that makes her very much happy. And she seems French! Aren't they famous for food? Does that extend to jerky? "Yes, yes! Can I please-" her voice is getting a little strained, fed up with all this talk and no food yet, but she is quick to correct it. "Ahem, please? Have some?" She's not begging, she doesn't beg. Elon struggles up onto her paws then, trembling, but holds her head up strong just in time to catch sight of another creature with a strange... hat on? He talks to the Carolina chick so maybe they are similar creatures, but he looks so much bigger. Infact, most of them grouped around her are and it makes her nervous but she doesn't show it. She has to be strong. She can't run away again, not when things are just returning to normal. Or, as normal as she's going to get. "Hi. Again. Elon here. Slowly starving to death, haha." Her stomach growls and she doesn't even try to cover it up this time.

[BASTILLEPAW]

[table][tr][td]

[/td][td]

[/td][td]

[/td][/tr][/table]

SING, GODDESS, OF THE RAGE OF ACHILLES

Slowly starving to death, haha. The dismissiveness and the fake laugh attached had Bastille smirking in amusement as he stopped beside Margy, studying this stranger briefly. He didn't really care to fully analyze people or note every detail right away: he just wanted an aura sweep and a general impression to attach to a name and face. Everything else could be sorted out later. Or not. He didn't really care if he was best friends with everyone or not, frankly, as all as everyone was relatively happy and no one was plotting to overthrow him in their despair.

(Well, actually -- Bastille would probably welcome a coup. If his people wanted it and it gave him excuse to abandon this god awful role? Hell yeah. He hated this damn job and would forever question why on gods' earth Starry had hated him enough to curse him like this.)

In the meantime, he drawled idly with that smirk still in place, "Well, nice to meet you then. I guess the first thing we should do is get you more food. I'm Bast, by the way."

[b]BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS — ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — TAGS

[| AGENT WASHINGTON |]

Washington and Carolina had refused to eat the likes of raw meat while they were around. For Washington, it just didn't seem like something that he would ever end up getting used to. He would much rather have something cooked, even if his body looked at raw meat like it was the best thing in the world. Washington was trying to keep his human mind and his animalistic mind separate from one another. But that was a little bit more difficult with the fact that his mind was already messed up enough as it was. There was no changing the damage that had been done by Epsilon when he had been put into his head already. He refused to get used to the aspect of life in a place like this where he certainly didn't belong. Which should have been obvious by now with the way that he interacted with others and the way he and Carolina didn't just follow the orders that were given to them in a place like this. They wanted to get back to being human, and if any of those that lived in this current outpost took that as some form of insult, then he didn't really care.

Just because they hated humans because this year humans still hunted animals, it wasn't really business. He was pretty sure that if any human saw the likes of him or any of the larger creatures that lived here in this Outpost, they would run away in fear and not even bother to fight back. He had even debated forcefully making his way toward a human city so that he could grab all the supplies that they would end up needing to communicate those that could actually communicate with them. Easier said than done when he couldn't exactly move around as silently as he would have liked anyway. Carolina was more suited to that, but that was only because she had her suit on. She was a feline, which was more than capable of moving around with a significant amount of silence that made stealth missions a whole lot easier. He had never really been all that stealthy, but he had been smart during his time in Project Freelancer where he would be able to take shots at a long distance away and make it seem like he had never been there.

He was a good distraction for a rookie he had to admit, even if others weren't going to say it for him. He had to have some semblance of pride if he wanted to continue climbing up the ranks like he was. Either way, he didn't want to become an animal and simply refused to do what his body wanted him to do half of the time. He ate what he needed to eat just enough to keep him alive, but also keep his muscle mass healthy so that he didn't die from starvation. He didn't hunt like the rest of the group, and instead waited for the food to be prepared, something that he was used to doing, although it could be considered selfish. Washington refused to teach himself how to hunt because he knew that if he did that he would be forced to become more of an animal. He didn't want to stoop to that level, not even a little bit. He would much rather wait for jerky or just cooked meat to be prepared so that he didn't give into his animal instincts. Being a large predator had its perk that he didn't have to worry about most animals picking a fight with the likes of him.

But there was also the factor that he had to worry about the instincts that came with being an apex predator. Anything that was smaller than him basically looked like potential food for him to kill. He had remembered getting the urge to kill Church when the other had disobeyed a direct order. He had been furious at the canine, and Washington was more than capable of snapping the other's neck with a slap of his paw if he had really wanted to. Which had been obvious to the simulation trooper because the other hadn't exactly refused any orders that he had given recently. Good enough. They didn't exactly have time to argue amongst themselves when they could be working together to get out of here. The Freelancer had more to worry about than his struggles of being an animal. He knew that there were more threats around that they were going to have to take care of, threats that he had somewhat kept hidden from the Ascendants because they didn't need to know because it wasn't their fight.

It was the Freelancer's job to make sure that everything was accounted for. It was protocol, and soon he and Carolina were more than likely going to start moving from place to place. This way they could cover more ground, and Washington didn't care if those that they came into contact with didn't like it. They needed all their gear, and he wasn't about to let anyone have any of it. It was important, and not only that it was expensive. If they brought it back to the Director, there was a chance that they wouldn't be killed on the spot. Either way, Washington's attention went from Carolina back to the domestic cat when she started talking once he had arrived. He didn't really know what was going on with the situation, and he honestly didn't really care. A low huff escapes his jaws at the way that Elon is looking at Carolina. He wasn't sure if he liked it and what it actually implied. "More like classified agent." Washington would interject for the female.

Super secret agent? That sounded something like a joke, but he was quick to correct her on what they really were. Refusing to actually state exactly who they worked or, or didn't really work for anyway. He flicked one of his ears inside of his helmet as he waited a couple of seconds before speaking again. "Agent Washington." The armored smilodon would introduce himself with a distinct lack of emotion. He didn't care about how others knew his name or how they addressed him as long as they did it with respect. The other had obviously heard his name spoken if Carolina spoke to her about himself. Which raised the question of why Carolina had mentioned him at all? The rest of the interaction between everyone was certainly... questionable. But it wasn't his job to question those that were looking to get into this place, and she certainly didn't remind him of any Freelancer that he knew even if she was going by a different name. From the sound of it, she sounded hungry, and everyone seemed to be willing to give her the food that she would need.

He knew what it was like to be close to starving to death. Something that Washington had done to himself when he had refused to eat any raw meat until he was given some other option. That's why he was mentioned, although Imperia probably had more than he did inside of his armor at the moment. She was definitely sarcastic he could give her that, but he doesn't really seem to care about the females sarcasm. He raised one of his half armored paws and reached to the side of his armor where there was a small storage space just underneath where his armor touched his skin. It wasn't extremely hot out so the plastic bag didn't exactly feel warm. Soon, he presented a bag of venison jerky that was seasoned by Imperia herself and tossed it gently in Elon's direction. "There." Washington stated calmly, not saying anything else about the situation. If she wanted to join this place, that wasn't his job and it was those that lived here that were going to have to take care of her now. The armored smilodon soon got back up onto his paws and looked like he was ready to leave unless Elon had anything else to say. "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