Demeleier app
Jul. 25th, 2012 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pootisPlayer Name: Benamas
Player DW: Benamas
Contact: AIM: Benamas
Character Number: II
Name: Heavy Weapons Guy (real name: UNKNOWN) (Red Team)
Source: Team Fortress 2
Appearance: http://tf2wiki.net/w/images/f/f7/Zoom_tf2-litho.heavy.jpg
Personality: A man of few emotions and even fewer words, the Heavy appears at first glance to be a dim-witted giant. He speaks simply and moves slowly, with a sleepy demeanor, like a large, cuddly bear which has just woken up. This is, however, a very deliberate facade, and confusing his economy of motion with gentleness will get you ripped limb from limb -- the heavy is a stone-cold killer, and has no problem breaking anything or anyone that gets in his way with his titanic strength.
The Heavy's main occupation is as a mercenary, a killer for hire. In a firefight where he believes he has the upper hand, his normal calm level-headedness quickly gives way to a maniacial fervor as he happily guns down everyone in sight, laughing madly or even singing in his deep, gravelly baritone as his minigun flings shells in one direction and brass casings in the other.
On the other hand, his usual mindset off the battlefield is very practical, focused on the task at hand and not prone to distractions, but with a very clear understanding that he expects to be paid, and paid well, for his work. He may play dumb, but he approaches most problems with a rather cold, businesslike demeanor, and will patiently and eventually puzzle out most conundrums. He enjoys classic literature, listening to tapes on his walkman, and obsessively maintaining his minigun. He is also a very shrewd and calculating poker player.
Because most of the people he meets in a normal day are either someone he's trying to murder, helping him murder someone, or paying him to murder someone, the Heavy does not easily make lasting friends. Even on a good day, he barely has amiable acquantainces. He does has legitimate respect for those with abilities he lacks, such as his Engineer or Medic teammates, and will grudgingly acknowledge when he is outmatched, outsmarted, or outgunned by his foes, but anyone who appears or acts weak in his eyes will be dismissed and, if he can help it, mercilessly crushed like the tiny baby men they are.
The Heavy is perfectly capable of normal emotions like joy and kindness, but these are, unfortunately, usually applied to his weapon: a 150-kilogram minigun named 'Sasha'. He is perfectly aware that she is an enormous, deadly gatling gun, and has used her many, many times to murder people for money. His emotional attachment is well beyond what most mercenaries have to their weapons, though: Sasha is the Heavy's baby. He talks sweetly to her even as she turns men into bloody rags, cleans and maintains her after battle as if she was an infant, and goes so far as to tuck her into a tiny bed at night before he goes to sleep himself.
Due to his enormous bulk and beefy muscles, the Heavy's daily caloric is staggering. He is, indeed, something of a gourmand, most fond of heavy, filling food. To this end, he has been known to carry around sandwiches of dagwood-like stature, and use them to take snack breaks even in the heat of combat. He often seems to eat to excess, and carry around a lot of extra weight as a result, but in his line of work most of this is rapidly burned back off, and the huge organs in his barrel-like torso are in better shape than it appears.
History: The Heavy's past is shrouded in mystery, and he prefers to keep it that way. His home, when not travelling for work, is a small cabin in the Dzhugdzhur Mountains, Khabarovsk Krai, USSR.
The Heavy's father was a counter-revolutionary, executed some time in 1941. He, his mother, and his sister, were sent to a Siberian Gulag that September. For reasons unknown, the same Gulag was destroyed in December of that year, with all prisoners escaping. He now works as an international mercenary, secretly sending most of his paychecks home to his family.
Timeline: In the process of defending a bomb on a minecart, conveniently just stepped into a teleporter constructed by his Engineer teammate.
Abilities:
The Heavy's most outstanding attributes are his incredibly durable, beefy bulk and outrageous upper body strength -- he is able to carry around a 150kg custom-built machine gun ("Sasha") for long periods without breaks
His major talents are the use and maintenance of the above-mentioned gun; few men would know how to care for Sasha, and fewer still would be able to actually aim her with any accuracy. He is quite handy with a common shotgun as well.
Despite his resume's angle towards mercenary work and murder, the Heavy reportedly has a doctorate degree in Russian Literature. When asked, he replies that this knowledge is used in his line of work "More than you would think."
He is a decent boxer as well, able to floor most opponents with a single freight-train punch (but he is not exceptional -- his footwork is slow and sloppy).
Inventory:
1x Ham, baloney, and cheese sandwich (white bread, cut diagonal)
50x Custom-tooled gun cartridges (for Sasha, on bandolier)
2x Boxing gloves (red w/flame patterns)
1x Foam and leather boxing helmet
Notably: No guns!
Prose Sample:
Suddenly, out of nowhere, for no reason in particular, there is a strange sound and a flash of pale red light. Simultaneously, a large man appears from thin air, holding his arms at an awkward angle in front of him as he bellows out a mighty war cry and charges forward into empty space, toward nothing.
His shout peters out into a low groan of confusion as he slows his beefy frame to a gentle stop. Two blue eyes slowly pan across the landscape as his large-jawed face adopts a concerned expression. This expression changes to amiable amusement as two gorilla-like shoulders affect a shrug.
"Engineer has messed up."
With this simple point decided, he looks down toward his massive hands; empty, but still held away from his body in odd positions. He appears shocked, which slowly makes way to absolute rage as some unknowable thought makes its way to the front of his mind, while his hands flex and grasp at the air.
He roars at the sky, holding both fists upward in a gesture of incredible fury.
"ENGINEER HAS MESSED UP BAD."
Journal Sample:
[A large man appears on the communicator's screen. His face is flushed, and his eyes are watery and bloodshot, as if he has been recently crying. His expression is deadpan, however, and he begins speaking in a deep, level voice.]
I am Heavy Weapons Guy. And I cannot find my weapon.
She weighs one hundred fifty kilograms, and is the most beautiful-- [He cuts himself off, wincing as he chokes on his words. He covers his face in embarassment with one giant hand as tears begin to roll down his cheeks. A long moment passes before he is able to take a deep breath and start again, this time in perfect Russian.]
<Sasha, please come home. I'm not mad. Daddy misses you. Please, just come home.>
[With a sniffle and a sob, he reaches out towards the camera, and the video ends.]
Player DW: Benamas
Contact: AIM: Benamas
Character Number: II
Name: Heavy Weapons Guy (real name: UNKNOWN) (Red Team)
Source: Team Fortress 2
Appearance: http://tf2wiki.net/w/images/f/f7/Zoom_tf2-litho.heavy.jpg
Personality: A man of few emotions and even fewer words, the Heavy appears at first glance to be a dim-witted giant. He speaks simply and moves slowly, with a sleepy demeanor, like a large, cuddly bear which has just woken up. This is, however, a very deliberate facade, and confusing his economy of motion with gentleness will get you ripped limb from limb -- the heavy is a stone-cold killer, and has no problem breaking anything or anyone that gets in his way with his titanic strength.
The Heavy's main occupation is as a mercenary, a killer for hire. In a firefight where he believes he has the upper hand, his normal calm level-headedness quickly gives way to a maniacial fervor as he happily guns down everyone in sight, laughing madly or even singing in his deep, gravelly baritone as his minigun flings shells in one direction and brass casings in the other.
On the other hand, his usual mindset off the battlefield is very practical, focused on the task at hand and not prone to distractions, but with a very clear understanding that he expects to be paid, and paid well, for his work. He may play dumb, but he approaches most problems with a rather cold, businesslike demeanor, and will patiently and eventually puzzle out most conundrums. He enjoys classic literature, listening to tapes on his walkman, and obsessively maintaining his minigun. He is also a very shrewd and calculating poker player.
Because most of the people he meets in a normal day are either someone he's trying to murder, helping him murder someone, or paying him to murder someone, the Heavy does not easily make lasting friends. Even on a good day, he barely has amiable acquantainces. He does has legitimate respect for those with abilities he lacks, such as his Engineer or Medic teammates, and will grudgingly acknowledge when he is outmatched, outsmarted, or outgunned by his foes, but anyone who appears or acts weak in his eyes will be dismissed and, if he can help it, mercilessly crushed like the tiny baby men they are.
The Heavy is perfectly capable of normal emotions like joy and kindness, but these are, unfortunately, usually applied to his weapon: a 150-kilogram minigun named 'Sasha'. He is perfectly aware that she is an enormous, deadly gatling gun, and has used her many, many times to murder people for money. His emotional attachment is well beyond what most mercenaries have to their weapons, though: Sasha is the Heavy's baby. He talks sweetly to her even as she turns men into bloody rags, cleans and maintains her after battle as if she was an infant, and goes so far as to tuck her into a tiny bed at night before he goes to sleep himself.
Due to his enormous bulk and beefy muscles, the Heavy's daily caloric is staggering. He is, indeed, something of a gourmand, most fond of heavy, filling food. To this end, he has been known to carry around sandwiches of dagwood-like stature, and use them to take snack breaks even in the heat of combat. He often seems to eat to excess, and carry around a lot of extra weight as a result, but in his line of work most of this is rapidly burned back off, and the huge organs in his barrel-like torso are in better shape than it appears.
History: The Heavy's past is shrouded in mystery, and he prefers to keep it that way. His home, when not travelling for work, is a small cabin in the Dzhugdzhur Mountains, Khabarovsk Krai, USSR.
The Heavy's father was a counter-revolutionary, executed some time in 1941. He, his mother, and his sister, were sent to a Siberian Gulag that September. For reasons unknown, the same Gulag was destroyed in December of that year, with all prisoners escaping. He now works as an international mercenary, secretly sending most of his paychecks home to his family.
Timeline: In the process of defending a bomb on a minecart, conveniently just stepped into a teleporter constructed by his Engineer teammate.
Abilities:
The Heavy's most outstanding attributes are his incredibly durable, beefy bulk and outrageous upper body strength -- he is able to carry around a 150kg custom-built machine gun ("Sasha") for long periods without breaks
His major talents are the use and maintenance of the above-mentioned gun; few men would know how to care for Sasha, and fewer still would be able to actually aim her with any accuracy. He is quite handy with a common shotgun as well.
Despite his resume's angle towards mercenary work and murder, the Heavy reportedly has a doctorate degree in Russian Literature. When asked, he replies that this knowledge is used in his line of work "More than you would think."
He is a decent boxer as well, able to floor most opponents with a single freight-train punch (but he is not exceptional -- his footwork is slow and sloppy).
Inventory:
1x Ham, baloney, and cheese sandwich (white bread, cut diagonal)
50x Custom-tooled gun cartridges (for Sasha, on bandolier)
2x Boxing gloves (red w/flame patterns)
1x Foam and leather boxing helmet
Notably: No guns!
Prose Sample:
Suddenly, out of nowhere, for no reason in particular, there is a strange sound and a flash of pale red light. Simultaneously, a large man appears from thin air, holding his arms at an awkward angle in front of him as he bellows out a mighty war cry and charges forward into empty space, toward nothing.
His shout peters out into a low groan of confusion as he slows his beefy frame to a gentle stop. Two blue eyes slowly pan across the landscape as his large-jawed face adopts a concerned expression. This expression changes to amiable amusement as two gorilla-like shoulders affect a shrug.
"Engineer has messed up."
With this simple point decided, he looks down toward his massive hands; empty, but still held away from his body in odd positions. He appears shocked, which slowly makes way to absolute rage as some unknowable thought makes its way to the front of his mind, while his hands flex and grasp at the air.
He roars at the sky, holding both fists upward in a gesture of incredible fury.
"ENGINEER HAS MESSED UP BAD."
Journal Sample:
[A large man appears on the communicator's screen. His face is flushed, and his eyes are watery and bloodshot, as if he has been recently crying. His expression is deadpan, however, and he begins speaking in a deep, level voice.]
I am Heavy Weapons Guy. And I cannot find my weapon.
She weighs one hundred fifty kilograms, and is the most beautiful-- [He cuts himself off, wincing as he chokes on his words. He covers his face in embarassment with one giant hand as tears begin to roll down his cheeks. A long moment passes before he is able to take a deep breath and start again, this time in perfect Russian.]
<Sasha, please come home. I'm not mad. Daddy misses you. Please, just come home.>
[With a sniffle and a sob, he reaches out towards the camera, and the video ends.]
