[JOURNAL] Rhett Landers & Arrow (KaiRosewolf)

[NinjVet]

You really don't want to post here. Not without express permission. There are so many things within this fog that you do not understand.

 

[NinjVet]

Page One .....
- Main
- Scanning Index
- Zoid Information
- MRZ
- Organoid Information
- Pilot Information
- Heritage
- Status
- Current Mission
- Mission Status
- Targets
- Trophies, Prizes, Bounties
- Relationships
- Roleplay Logs
- Credits

Page Two .....
- Journal Entries

 

[NinjVet]

(What? A Zoid? Crazy talk. No seriously. He doesn't have one.)

 

[NinjVet]

(He doesn't have one of these either.)

 

[NinjVet]

Name: Arrow
Ancient Name: Verator "Hunter"
Assumed Gender: Male
Species: Feline (Caracal/Leopard Similarities)

Personality: Uncaring and opportunistic. He’s not particularly friendly or mean. He simply seems not to care about anything or anyone, save Rhett, and even that seems to be a bare minimal interest. He does not appear to care about battles, zoids, or humans. He lives on his own agenda. As if he has some other mission in life, that has little- if anything- to do with zoids. He does, however, hold an unusual and highly destructive dislike of other organoids..

History: By now, most people have seen or heard rumors of the “black fog,” and some have even seen or heard tale of the Judge, Jury, and Executioner. There’s another twist to this story, one which won’t completely be revealed here. Along with any great power comes great fear. The ancient zoidians were no different. They wanted to get rid of other ancient creations, specific ones, so they created their own weapons against them. The ancient Verator, the hunter, was one of those weapons.

The hunter was never specifically created nor designed to merge with a zoid core like the main purpose of organoids are to do, however later upgrades allowed for this to be possible as a secondary use for him. He was created to shut down and, given the chance, destroy other organoids in organoid-to-organoid confrontation. Virtually all of his powers and abilities are within his own form, not “assisting” abilities that become pronounced when merged with a core, thus his balance, armor, speed and power are far beyond that of normal organoids, especially those created in current day. His sensors were tuned to a degree few other sensors could reach, able to track down other ancients with an endless degree of patience and persistence. His primary weapons are his fangs. Built with special magnet-electrical transmitters on their tips, should they pierce the primary AI circuits of another organoid usually located at the back of the neck or directly behind the head (as in the brain stem in an organic creature), the immediate connection will shut down the organoid. Contact for an increased period of time will shut down the organoid permanently.

Such a weapon had to have a serious counter balance for control. The last thing the ancient zoidians wanted was this organoid going on a rampage, to be on the loose with no way to catch or defeat it. Surely they could create something more powerful, perhaps, but then they would have two problems and not be free of the one they had. One of the ancient zoidians, a young man, proposed the idea to have this creature bonded in an irreversible way to a human. Should this connection be severed, such as the human dying whether naturally or unnaturally, Verator would shut down. He would go into stasis until the next heir could take the preceeding human’s place. He could not function without his human, or get too far away from him without loss of sensory ability. It was a huge flaw in Verator’s system, but the only thing that the ancient zoidians could, without a doubt, control him by.
When that first ancient zoidian touched Verator, bonded by some unexplainable ancient zoidian magic, a change occurred. His light hair turned black, his light skin tanned to a more yellow-bronzed hue, his eyes turned golden from their muddy brown, and a cat-scratch-like tattoo rippled across his face. And every proper heir, usually the oldest son, would inherit those same characteristics, except for the tattoo which was given in a ceremony-like fashion when his duties were explained to him- wanted or not. The visual similarity to Verator- in current day renamed Arrow- was uncanny.

This given tattoo, and the inherited colorations on each successive “hunter” son, was followed by a pendant necklace of a compass, rumored to hold some sort of extra power, enhanced by the true zoidian blood which filled each of them so significantly as to hold this ancient tradition and bond. However, even though each son was told that Arrow was special, and that they must hunt with him, they were never told what they were hunting. They had to figure it out for themselves, and thus went on lifelong fruitless journeys generation after generation. Arrow’s mission has always been the same, while the humans at his side have progressively believed he is simply a powerful bounty hunter tool for human targets, and nothing else as his sensors can be tuned to other targets as well. None have bothered to believe anything other than this misconstrued truth with such extensive proof. This made the family of Arrow-holders a long line of particularly troublesome and lethal bounty hunters, known through the legendary rumor as “the Quiver problem.”

More recently, Arrow was just awakened a few months ago. His previous human partner had fallen ill for a long period of time, and until he died, Arrow was unable to be passed down. Rhett, the blood-born heir to take him, had long left his family when he’d turned 18- 8 years prior to his father’s ultimate illness and death. His father had been unable to hunt for about 10 years or more, leaving Arrow unable to progress on his ultimate mission. Thus, Arrow went dormant- a coma-like state that made him seem more of a statue than an organoid, until Rhett returned, unknowingly of the situation, to help with his father’s burial. A small group of believers took this opportunity to nearly kidnap Rhett and take him to a small temple to complete his birthright. Arrow revived, his sensors weak at first after so much time of dormancy, to begin the hunt again alongside his new ball-and-chain.

Abilities:
* Extreme Sensor/Tracking capabilities, especially towards ancients (except Executioner)
* Extreme self-shielding/stealth. Grainy-like covering stealths Arrow unless he's within a certain range
* Magnet-electrical fang tips: Allow for shut down and/or destruction of other organoids
* (List incomplete)

 

[NinjVet]

Name: Rhett Landers
Gender: Male
Height: 6’3”
Weight: 180 lbs
Age: 26
Preference: Straight
Build: Lean but toned
Blood Type: AB-
Skin: Caucasian, evenly toned
Hair: Black
Eyes: Gold
Facial Markings/Tattoos: Very specific red double-claw mark and single ‘blood drop’ on his right face.
Specialty: Bounty Hunter
Possessions of Importance: Compass Pendant

Personality: Relaxed, but excitable. Focused, but danger-loving. He is driven to solve the problem of his ancestors, and thus takes bountyhunting to an extreme none of his forefathers ever did. He doesn’t love to kill, thus his targets often meet a very quick and impersonal fate. Rather tender-hearted despite the profession, there’s a big ole’ teddy bear there. Indeed, he is a goofy (often clumsy), life-loving kid who had to grow up all too fast to follow a legend he isn’t quite sure he truly believes.

History: His childhood was wrought with trouble, as many found at this particular time. Death and sorrow followed his family. Or, more accurately, the organoid attached to his family ever since ancient times. After countless hardships and the loss of his father, Arrow the feline-like organoid was passed down to him, and he was sent off on the journey that none of his forefathers were able to finish. (See Arrow’s history for details).
Before obtaining Arrow, at the age of 18 Rhett left his family’s disaster-riddled village to join the Helic Republic army, wanting so badly to belong to something as most in that age-range tend to yearn for. He fought under the direct orders of the First Lieutenant Kyrea Sakashi. Although she was younger than him, as a cadet he took little offense to it- most of that due to his child-like, teddy bear of a personality. She was serious- too serious, he thought. But he followed her just like he would any commander.

About four years into serving the Republic, Sakashi’s unit was captured by a wayward group that apparently had a bounty out for the first lieutenant. They were contained in tiny cells in some dark indescript warehouse basement, and the choice that would decide if he or another soldier who followed the lieutenant, Jayer, would live was given to Sakashi. She had to kill one herself, or both would be killed. Kyrea had to choose one life over another, and he would never understand why she chose him. He watched one of his best friends and allies die at her hand, but there was a brief look he had caught in her eye that told him something strange; she chose him for a reason, but even that reason she did not know why. He also saw that this particular commander had more issues than governmental- and that there were more issues than political that he needed to quickly become aware of.

His faith and faithfulness in the army dissolved rapidly. There was more to Planet Zi than following orders. Somehow, with that terrifying encounter, some sort of sense was knocked into him. This was not what he was meant to do.

Upon receiving a letter that his father’s illness which had wracked him for many years at this point had reached a detrimental degree, he went AWAL and vanished off the scope of the military’s radar. He returned home, spending some amount of time comforting his mother about his father’s impending death and his siblings who had recently died during a sour military mission- a concept he could relate to well enough. His father passed away and as he was cleaning up after the funeral services, three robed figures appeared behind him, and swiftly knocked him unconscious.

- Continued in “Heritage” -

With the help of the secret zoidian organization and a ceremonial induction, he quickly and unwillingly learned about his heritage and the path upon which his life would soon travel. Arrow awoke, and began to travel at his side- or more commonly way out ahead forcing Rhett to follow to a journey he has yet to figure out.

 

[NinjVet]

Rhett tied the tops of the plastic garbage bags into knots, tossing them one by one into the corner. It had been a long day. He wasn’t that close to his father, but to watch his mother struggle so with this loss combined with the loss of his siblings.. Well, being here was the least he could do. Lost in cloudy thoughts, he never did hear the footsteps behind him. Or maybe he did, and his subconscious waved it off as the passing of some of the guests from the funeral behind him.

Regardless, a very hard and flat object struck the back of his head and everything immediately went black.

When he awoke, he found himself in yet another dark indescript place. His chest tightened, wrought with fear and memory of his worst moment in the military. As his heart pounded in his chest, his eyes adjusted, and the once non-descript cell became a much grander place. It was gigantic, if dimly lit. A huge temple with runes etched in the walls, thick pillars forming the central room into more or less of a circle. A feline-organoid statue stood poised just off-center of the inner most ingrained circle on the floor upon a raised stone platform. A secondary stone rose just beside it, a platform which looked more like a human-sized torture table, and this was the one he was tied down upon.

Thick leather straps bound his hands and legs, and he felt sick with nerves. He was allergic to death, especially after that first near-encounter.

Multiple darkly robed and hooded figures encircled him and the statue and condensed around him, tightening the circle like a cage. The circle broke as a single figure stepped forward.

“Your life is no longer your own, young Landers. Your journeys are no longer without purpose. Your fate is no longer a single strand.” Spoke the figure, his voice grim and almost happy at the same time. One robbed hand lifted and pulled back his hood.

“.... Mr. Roberts?” Rhett struggled to get a good look at the man, and it was indeed his long-time neighbor and family friend. Confusion jumbled Rhett’s expression as he struggled to grasp what exactly was going on. Surely old Mr. Roberts wasn’t going to stake him? He would never have thought he’d get knocked out and kidnapped by the nice old man either.

“It’s me.” The old man agreed, and his voice remained eerily cheerful. “But it’s no time for idle conversation, Rhett. We’ve got a lot to do this evening.”

“My old man just died, and you just kidnapped me, and you expect me to be happily compliant?” Dry humor colored his disbelief.

“I do, and you will.” His tone grew serious. “This is not something you have a choice in.”

“So what is it? What’s going on?” Rhett wasn’t really willing to play anymore. Most anything he could be giddy and cheerful about, but if the time called for it, seriousness could be met. This could be death he was facing, and he wasn’t going to be so cheerful, even if he had known this man and likely the others since childhood.

“This is your heritage, Rhett. This is what you were born to do.” His hands swept out around him to motion to the temple-like room, and one hand slowed and ended with a brandish towards the feline-organoid statue. “Your father, his father, his father’s father, all since very ancient times, have all taken this path. Your blood is your oath, offered up by your forefather when this creature was first released into the world.”

This was simply sounding worse and worse. Rhett gritted his teeth against a comment.

“This is Verator, the ultimate hunter.” His hand remained poised in reference to the statue. “He was created by the ancient zoidians, and tied to your family line by magic and blood. He is no normal organoid, Rhett. He is a weapon. He is a tracker, and he will find his target no matter what.”

“What is he tracking?”

The robed man sidestepped the question, and continued fluidly, “He has powers no other organoid we’ve ever known has, his will to hunt and destroy is unparalleled. He is persistant, and unswayable. So many weapons and camouflage systems which you’ve only seen in zoids themselves are held within his system. He is the ultimate weapon.”

“What was he created for?”

“This is your life’s purpose, young man. To figure out Verator’s purpose. If he accepts you.”

“What do you mean if?”

“If you aren’t worthy of his task, he will kill you.”

“But I thought this was my heritage?”

“Verator can’t accept a weak partner. He will be tied to you, absolutely. In every path he is to follow, you have to go as well. Gain too much distance between one another, and his senses begin to fade. He will be strongest at your side. If you die, he will shut down. This is why the timing has come after your father passed away. Verator shut down a long time ago, when your father first became ill. He is no simple pet to keep around the house, but he also cannot be passed down to the next heir until his previous partner dies, so he chose to become dormant until you were ready.”

“And if I’m not chosen?”

The man’s thoughtfulness turned grim, “You are the last of your line, Rhett. If he doesn’t accept you, whatever his purpose is will go undefined. We can only imagine how serious whatever he’s searching for must be, based on how powerful his design is. So powerful, that he had to be magically bound to a human to keep him from being loose within society. Do you understand the seriousness of this task?”

“Not really.” He was being dryly sarcastic. This wasn’t sounding good to him. If someone wanted to get rid of Verator, all they would have to do is kill him. Wonderful.

“Let us get started.” The man pulled his hood back up over his head, and stepped back into the tight circle of men which surrounded him.

“Wait, wait a minute!” Rhett’s chest tightened in anxiety, and his voice rose a touch in key with a hint of franticness.
The temple-like room suddenly began to hum as the men began chanting in some ancient tongue, first low in volume, then slowly rising until the whole room began to pulse with sound. The sound began to feel heavy, as if their chanting was turning into something tangible. Magical. The bodies of the circle swayed from side to side along with the humming, and Rhett began to feel light-headed and dizzy. The tension in his limbs seemed to drain, and he felt as though he couldn’t fight his bonds any longer. He laid limply on the sacrificing stone, with his consciousness attached to his body but also somewhat seeming like it was hovering above him- waiting, waiting for something to join it.

And something did.

You need some work. Another consciousness joined his own and spoke in a voice that sounded bored and uninterested in this whole to-do. But as I have no option, you will have to do.

His mind suddenly felt very full. Two minds set in one place. At first, he closed his eyes and struggled against it, but he had no energy. The chanting had swept every ounce of fight from his body.

The organoid statue behind him shifted, inanimate becoming animate. Stationary becoming organic and fluid. The armor that was once a faded stone-y bronze now shown as brilliant gold armor with pulsing red runes at its shoulder and flank. Red eyes blazed, and it poised and erupted into a growl as organic life returned to his systems in a rush of awakening.

The caracal-like organoid shifted and sprung, landing on top of Rhett, each clawed paw carefully placed just beside his prone body. Nobody would know what Verator chose, whether he was going to kill the man now, or keep him. Only Rhett knew, and he could say nothing. The chanting paused in apprehension as Verator opened his mouth- his saber-tooth-like fangs glittering, dripping with some strange fluid. In a flash of movement, Verator dug those thick, dripping fangs into the flesh of Rhett’s shoulder right at the base of his neck.


Unable to scream, Rhett’s eyes widened and his back subconsciously arched. The pain which filled his body was immense. Whatever coated those fangs rushed through his system like liquid fire that simmered and burned like an oil burn that lingers and gets hotter and hotter as it sits in contact with flesh. He couldn’t breathe, and his vision began to waver. Verator wouldn’t let go, that liquid pouring into his veins and pushing through to every capillary, every organ, every cell.
Rhett’s body internally began to transform. Muscles hypertrophied, skin bronzed slightly, hair darkened into a deeper black. Genetic and developed weaknesses of tendons, ligaments, or any poorness in genetic code were repaired. The ancient zoidian aspect of his blood was awakened and pulled from the buried depths of its diluted state into a present and dominant position in his body. The dull gold of his eyes faded and then brightened, becoming as vivid gold as Verator’s armor. The worst of the pain suddenly erupted over the right side of his face. Internally, it felt as though his face was melting away from his body. Externally, red markings etched over his face in the ancient mark of two claw marks and a blood drop beneath the eye.


What felt like an eternity later, the pain- the fire- began to ebb. The licks of flame slowly released his toes, fingers, legs, arms and eventually his central body. It would take a long time for Rhett to realize that Verator had released him, his bonds had been untied and the robed figures had bandaged his shoulder and neck. Ever so slowly, he sat up, shifting ever so carefully. There was still pain, certainly, but it was bodily pain. Not that horrible toxin which the organoid had sent through him.
The old man he knew as Mr. Roberts stepped forwards again, and laid a necklace around his neck. The metal was freezing as it touched his skin. More than freezing, he realized after a moment. It, too, burned by with ice rather than fire. Automatically he reached for the pendant to yank it off, only to find that he could not take it off. The golden compass wouldn’t move from around his neck, it wouldn’t break has he yanked on the chain. It, too, along with the four-legged weapon, had become a part of him.

“We do not know what that is for.” The old man admitted lowly, “But every single one of your forefathers who inherited Verator wore it, and it binds with them, attracted to their zoidian blood. The inscription on its back denotes that it will point you to your fate.” That sound lovely. The problem was, the compass had no pointer. It was just the background and its directional rose.

“Arrow.” Rhett whispered. It was as if centuries worth of memories flooded into his mind, now shared with that of Verator. He saw the experiences of his fathers, felt their training as bounty hunters, body guards and assassins. This would save time, all this knowledge suddenly shared. This was what Verator- Arrow- meant.

Rhett was ready now, physically at least, infused with nanobots and zoidian magic. Ready to begin a journey that may or may not end with his life in tact.

 

[NinjVet]

Current Mission

Target: Colonel Serius Kolins

Location: Helic Republic Secondary Outpost 2-16

Time: Change of guard :0300: hours

Reason: Involved in blackmarket dealings. He was not able to pay off an outstanding debt to the loansharks for high-price zoid parts used for his own personal (military) zoid. This mixture of disloyalty and illegal dealings have set him as a target for the mysterious benefactor who dictates directly with Arrow.