Slightly post-modern semi-romantic RP (Male)

Started by Gnomez, December 09, 2008, 10:25:55 PM

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Let me set the scene for you:


Loading File. . .

Enter Access Code ******


Welcome Dr. Trish.

Opening File. . .

Subject #: 115
Name: Braze Audax
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 185lbs
Sex: Yes
Eye Color: Gray
Hair Color: Black
Race: Human (caucasian)

Psychological Analysis: Confident. Determined. Guarded. Subject 115 puts up a strong front. Cynical and crude, we suspect these behaviors are linked to the constant state of pain he seems to be under. Subject 115 is open enough to talk about himself, if he feels he has the time. However, he seems to always feel pressed for it. Though highly intelligent, he follows his R-complex for confidence and closure. We suspect relying on a macho exterior makes him feel safe. Showing pain in the presence of others also seems to make him increasingly uncomfortable mentally. This further supports the evidence that when he pretends to 'be tough' it makes him feel that way. This is often a coping mechanism, and one subject 115 utilizes to likely deal with issues he has acquired within the facility.


Subject 115 seems to have contracted a neurological disorder of untraceable origin or trigger. This causes violent seizures that can last up to 5 minutes. The disorder seems to be progressing at a consistent rate, increasing time in seizure and recovery. Brain damage is consistent with the progression.

"Dr. Trish. . . I've been meaning to talk with you about your involvement with subject 115," said an elderly man in a white lab coat. He had barely managed to look at her when he spoke, eyes hurrying back to the notepad in his hands as he glanced over a formal document.

Dr. Trish abruptly turned from her work, eying her superior. But more importantly, she caught a glance at the documentation he was looking over. It was a disciplinary paper. . . "Have I done something wrong, Dr. Grimstone?"

The other scientist looked up from his notepad, tossing her a tiny smirk. "Not that we've been able to confirm with full certainty. That is why I'm issuing this as a warning."

"It has to do with Braze, doesn't it?" Trish crossed her arms over her ample bust. The young woman's face had sterned.

"Please refer to him as subject 115. That's not his name, anymore. I will not accuse you, doctor, but I will remind you that any and all contact with the test subjects must be kept on a formal level. Nothing 'intimate' in nature is permitted. Is that clear?"

"But of course," she replied, annoyed. Jealous, she thought sourly.

"Good. I'm glad you understand, doctor. To these subjects, we are little more than what they need to keep mental and physical stability. No attachment, in any form, is acceptable."

"I get it, Dr. Grimstone," Trish curtly replied, hints of anger in her voice. "I'm not a child, or some horny school girl. Now don't you have something more important to be doing? Because if you don't mind, I was running some important tests."

"On subject 115? You should be more focused on subject 73. 115 is a dead man, Dr. There isn't anything we can do for him. Subject 73 has not only shown excellent vital signs throughout all procedures and tests, but has far out performed every other test subject. An--"

Dr. Trish cut him off. "Every other test subject except number 115. If you recall his performance records in our tests, minus those relating to longevity, he far outclassed her in every category."

"Well be that as it may. I wouldn't give him anymore than five years worth of life. And that's if he is lucky," remarked Dr. Grimstone a little too eagerly.

Dr. Trish shrugged before turning around, fixing her attention on the computer console once more. Her glasses reflected the glow of data on the otherwise dark monitor screen.

Dr. Grimstone sighed, then waved his hand dismissively at the woman even though she had already turned from him. "Just remember not to get too attached. I won't hesitate to remove you from this project if keeping your distance becomes too much to handle," he said while already walking away from her.

Trish heard the doctor, but didn't trouble herself with a response he could hear. "Asshole," she muttered.

One fateful night, during a cell check...

"SIR! SIR! I've found Dr. Trisha Jacobs in Cell 85. She's been knocked unconscious and Subject 115 is no where to be found!" Came the frantic call of an officer over the inter-laboratory radio.

"What?! Seal all the exits, and emergency seal the ventilation system! I don't want so much as a fucking rat crawling out of this facility!" barked a hot headed security chief.

"Yes sir!" replied a security technician, his fingers flying over a keyboard with quick confidence. "Damn! The system has me locked out!"

"What the fuck!?" the security chief whipped around, running over to the tech officer. "Out of my way!" he shouted, brusquely shoving the man from his chair. The tech officer fell from his seat, landing hard on his side against the cold, metal floor.

"Fuck! I can't get in either!" panicked the chief. The tech officer was just picking himself up.

"Now what?"

The chief took a deep breath, thinking a moment. Then, he gave a cool, more collected answer. "Get on the PA and alert all personnel to his escape. Subject 115 is loose, and needs to be detained. Five years left or fifty, we can't let that mother fucker out to see the light of day."

"Yes sir!" responded the security officer crisply.

What I am looking for is someone to play Braze. He's a bold jackass with little care for others, save for Trish, whom he bashed in the head to get out. (That ought to give you a hint about his personality ;) )

That is, until he runs into another legitimate genetics facility by the name of MediGene. The desire to have someone find a cure for this disorder. The lab he breaks into is property of one Dr. Divinity Buchanan. A very spunky individual, she tries to get him under control, but rather he kidnaps her once he sees the ID tag that delinates her status as Lead Geneticist. As they work together, a romance develops that will be put to the test. I don't want this to happen overnight, mind you. In the beginning I anticipate a good deal of bickering! :P

But, if you're interested, send me a message. I'm a bit finicky about who the person to play this will be soo...yeah. Let's talk.
\"...Amongst the pit of feet and hands, below the hell of shifting sands, There we shall wait for him, to purge us of our plastic sin.\" <Lightswitch.