- Character Name:
- "Mach" - AKA Elitia Turner
- Mk 1.3 Human with a few addons
- Place of Origin:
- Trying to turn a crap hand golden
- Now here was a man. Not a great man, not even a decent one, but a man nonetheless. Standing at six and one he was built like a scrapper; strong, lean, and well tooled though not quiet chiseled. Had a chiseled jaw though; square chin and rugged pretty boy features as well. Usually they were alight with an ever ready smile, the winning kind that just made a person want to join in on what joy or joke amused him though the truly genuine ones tended to be far and few between. He was a regular heart throb that made the ladies swoon and the guys jealous... until one got to know him probably. Not exactly a bad sort of fellow but he certainly wasn't a good sort either. Clever and sly with an interest in mischief; or for general purposes your regular sort of puckish jerk; but maybe that was just the jadedness from his job.
One probably wouldn't have guessed it from first glances but the man was a military certified mage hunter, or an insane idiot by more colloquial terms. Dressed simply and efficiently in timeless style though not so fancy as to mind if they get burned off. Slacks and casually worn button downs with suspenders a must though he wore his sleeves down more often as late to cover his swanky prosthetic arm and techno-neo-chic tattoo on his other. Aside from that was an ever present potion belt with gun holster which helped carry a bevy of enchanted and outdated items and weapons that supposedly helped him take down inhuman monsters wielding arcane fury. Yeah... don't ask him why he did it, he wasn't sure either. But he was still alive, and usually had both eyebrows so he had to be doing something right... or at least not doing something wrong enough to be final.
And why was the man known as “Mach” one might ask? How did anyone ever get a nickname… either they got enough people to call them something that had to be better than whatever godforsaken moniker their parents bestowed upon them or some group of pissed drunk buddies came up with it and kept calling someone by it until it just stuck.
Maybe it was because the man wasn't quiet fully human anymore. An upgraded version with bells, whistles, and go go gadget bits which helped him stand toe to toe against things that would usually hamburger patty a normie like he. Not that it was too noticeable at current with the sporty pirate eye patch covering his right eye and a distinctly prosthetic right hand the color of charcoal. A real 'Mach'-ine man, but then given how completely unremarkable such was for hunters where he came it would seem sort of silly for only he to have warranted the moniker.
Perhaps it was supposed to be short for ‘Machiavellian’ as the man did have a love of stirring trouble and then sitting back and watching the fireworks. But then one had to take into account the sort of people Eli associated with, and he was fairly certain none of them even knew what the word was much less be clever enough to use it as a nickname… certainly not when there was such an easier name to remember starting with ‘a’ and ending in ‘hole’ which rhymed lyrically with ‘mast pole.’
Maybe it was supposed to be exactly that… ‘Mach,’ or the speed which the man could run from real trouble when it reared its ugly head. Now let’s get one thing straight, Mach wasn't a chicken. You didn't get into a field of work that had you facing down someone that could fry you with lightening, cook you to a crisp with fireballs, and wash away your ashes with a lovely spring shower all at a fancy if you were a chicken. No, there was a much more fitting moniker for one that willingly did that. But just because he did something incredibly dangerous and stupid didn't mean he was stupid enough to stick around when things got incredibly dangerous. But then again one didn’t get paid to run in this sort of job; and so as nice a thought as it may have been sometimes to simply turn tail the man tended to stick it out even if dealt a truly crap hand.
Maybe it was someone who mistook him for being Irish? Maybe it was some idiot’s idea of a joke? Maybe it was his? No matter the reason that’s what he was known as and would gladly spin anyone a story for why if they asked… just don’t ask if it’s the truth or not.
- Captain in the UTRA - Class A3 2B 2C Military Mage Hunter (Peacekeeper)
- Additional Notes:
- What more could be said for the schmooze? The man was a scholar in the school of hard knocks. He was known to be able to charm poison from snakes and high fives to the face though some attest that his charisma is more than just advice from a cracker jacks box. As for potentially real or useful skills though, well, those are better just experienced dealing with the man himself... arguably anyway.
(FYI: WWW is to tumblr and Mach is not a very 18- individual so be warned, thar may be inappropriate content!)
- Date Registered:
- February 01, 2015, 10:13:40 PM
- Local Time:
- September 21, 2019, 01:36:48 PM
- Last Active:
- September 15, 2019, 03:48:06 AM