AIM, MSN or Skype name (at least one): email@example.com on msn.
Character being applied: Fixer
Journal name: elevenforty
Short physical description (N/A if clone):
Short psychological description: Second in command of Delta Squad, Fixer is an extremely driven and focused man. His by-the-book nature and dedication to the missions at hand mean he is often described as a "model soldier". Fixer doesn't use his squad mate's nicknames - instead referring to them by their numberical designations. And he often has to tell Sev and Scorch - and occasionally even Boss - to can the chatter and press on with the mission at hand. Not a social being, Fixer finds solace in kit and tech - which he has a great love for - after all, he is the Delta's slicing expert.
Example of a first-person post (at least four of five sentences): The Cheif's taken Six-Two and Oh-Seven around the other side of the Sep outpost to try and draw off the battle droid forces, and judging from the sounds coming from the other side of the courtyard - and Six-Two's gloating crackling over the comlink - it's quite some diversion. There are only a few clankers left on this side of the building, and I deal with them with my Deece's sniper attatchment before sprinting forward to reach the side of the outpost. The console is easy enough to find - it's lit by a deep red backlight. Blocking out the sounds of carnage and gunfire, I let my fingers take over and begin jacking into the Sep's computer mainframe. A few moments later and the red light shifts into a bright green glow. "Chief, the doors are open. Inform the Omegas and then get out of there. I'm heading to the rendezvous point. Four-Oh, out."
Example of a third-person post (at least four of five sentences, in a narrative style, as if from a RC book): Whilst the rest of the commandos - Deltas and Omegas alike - had headed out to Monument Square for a bit of sightseeing, Fixer had instead gone straight to the Arca barracks armory and picked through the several crates of gear labelled "New Aquisitions" - tech and weapons that had been 'liberated' from fallen Separatist soldiers and shelled-out Separatist warships. Now, he sat in his room, playing with a disruptor-pulse rifle. Half of the deadly weapon lay in pieces on the floor, and the other half - the half containing the weapon's beautiful focusing crystal - sat cradled in Fixer's lap, as he scrubbed away carbon scoring and dirt from the device. Who needs to see the sights,
he thought, when I have everything I could possibly want to see here? Some think mountains are beautiful. I think this is.