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Drax1995

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About Drax1995

  • Birthday October 26

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  1. Rayford was born in Anchorage, Alaska where he grew up with his older half brother, mother and father. He had a particularly normal childhood, his mother homeschooled and his father was a Military Police Officer in the United States Army. He followed in his fathers footsteps and served in fathers footsteps and became an Army CID field operative. He learned quickly that he had a knack for blending in extremely well with local civilians and it led him to many successful cases in his six years of active duty service. This caught the eye of the Notable Potius Cras corporation and they brought him on the team as a field operative, sent him to Chernarus for a Classified Mission and set him to the task of espionage and infiltration. He has learned to change his dialect and accent to resemble a Southern United States Citizen and can adopt other accents or dialects if the situation arises. He uses many false names as well as false personalities to fool other individuals he may encounter and changes his clothing and haircut to match. Rayford is the epitome of the “Grey Man” earning himself the handle “Grey” with his colleagues. While he is still a formidable operator during raids and tactical Corporate missions, his skills and expertise are mostly served gathering intelligence and infiltrating other factions and settlements. He travels mostly alone, but will sometimes be in the company of one or at most two other operatives depending on the assignment at hand, although in his own opinion, companions slow him down and increase the chance of becoming compromised, this operator is known to have taken beatings and in the face of execution by enemy combatants has been successful in denying any affiliation with The Corporation and fooling his captors. This Operator wins his battles by being the smartest person in the room and knowing more about any given situation that he lets on. He calls this technique “playing the village idiot” and exercises it to great advantage. This operator has such skill in espionage it is possible that none of the information contained in dossier is actually factual.
  2. Scotty Weathers was always just an odd child. His parents first noted this when upon, the death of his puppy, he shed no tears instead he began laughing hysterically. all he told them was "WOW! That's a good one there!" He never made many friends in high school and the ones he did make all had some for of social disorder. All the other students called them the crazy club. Although his outward personality was carefree, internally Weathers hated the entire student body for mocking himself and his friends. Soon this would lead to a very violent outbreak when one day Scotty Weathers picked up a brick he found outside and began bashing in the skulls of several students and faculty members, all the wile laughing hysterically and saying "WOW! That's a good one there!" When emergency services and police arrived on scene, Weathers offered no resistance to arrest. During his trials he was deemed criminally insane and locked up in a psychiatric facility. There he had several violent incidents when he would hear a Staff member making fun of a resident. A total of 8 faculty members lost their lives to Weathers. Eventually weathers would be located by The Corporation and brought in for evaluation and ultimately released into Chernarus as part of a ground team there.
  3. Apologies to all if this thread is confusing at first, I have decided that as I add to the narrative I will only edit the original post so it will be the first thing you see, individual parts will be labeled and I will try to update this thread once or twice daily depending on what happens thank you for reading -Drax
  4. Thankyou I feel like since I have a character that doesn’t really have a backstory in his bios before his release from prison, that I will continue writing these narratives and reveal his backstory through the content
  5. The darkness slowly began to melt away with the coming of dawn. The operator sat on his knees as he carefully tended to his own wounds. The once proud lord of this forest lay lifeless on the ground a few feet away. “You just couldn’t have left me alone, could you brother?” Thought the operator. He felt a great sadness for the death of such a proud beast. “Well I can’t let his life mean nothing.” The operator began to skin the carcass with means of using his fur for some meager comfort in his bedroll. He then dug a shallow grave and gave his opponent a proper burial, and was on his way. The road was long and the sun was hot, bearing down in his combat gear he was soon soaked through with sweat he figured if he traveled north west he would reach the airfield before nightfall and could resupply his dwindling reserves of food and ammunition. Soon the operator came upon a small town, he could smell the village before he could see it. That was one advantage the living had in this new world of the dead, the smell of rot and decay was so powerful it was as if someone had physically struck him. The operator crested the a small hill and looked down upon what was once a charming little hamlet, but It was now a citadel of the dead. The previous inhabitants were still quite at home but instead of greeting each other with friendly faces and cordial hellos, they were petrified, shambling husks of people. Remnants of a long dead past. The operator sat crouched with his binoculars, scanning the village for possible dangers or even other survivors. He still had his monthly quota of blood and tissue samples to collect and if he came up short again the Doctor would not be pleased. As he scanned the village, all at once he heard “CRACK...CRACK...CRACK”. The shots echoed off the surrounding countryside. “Some idiot is shooting a fucking Mosin!?” The operator mutters a string of curses under his breath. The whole town was now a swarm of activity. The hoarse cries of the dead a deafening roar. There wouldn’t be any sneaking through the town now. The operator backtracked down the hill and cut into the wood line to his left. After a few minutes of travel he heard some muffled static and a short break of garbled speech in his earpiece, he adjusted a few dials on his transmitter and replied “Say again?” His rough, gravely voice seemed strange to him. He was never one to speak much, and usually when he had to converse with other humans he came across harsh and callous. “Bulldog this is Knight, do you copy?” The voice of his fellow operator came through clear and precise “10-4 Knight, I read you Lima Charlie” after a pause “Bulldog this is Knight, what’s your 20?” The operator replied “20 is unsure currently, somewhere South-East of Northern Airfield. Set an RV at the Northern Wall?” A moments pause “10-4 Bulldog, Wolfe and Myself will meet you there. Knight out.” The operator switched his transmitter of and thinks to himself “Fuckin’ great.. they are sending backup” he figured after not checking in for three days that this was bound to happen. He began traveling to the north west and in a few hours time found himself at the RV point that he has set for his comrades. He climbs into a watchtower to wait for his squad mates and sits back. Soon he is lost in his own thoughts. Thoughts of a different time a different place. Lost to time forever. “Greg! The fuck are you doin? You fuckin pussy!!” Thomas was screaming at him l, his nose just a few inches from his face. Thomas was the undisputed tough guy at Mrs. Callahan’s foster home. He and Greg had both been there since they were infants, Thomas was a few months older than himself. “I... I just wanted to play with the baseball...” replied Greg, “Well that’s MY FUCKING BASEBALL YOU LITTLE BITCH!” SLAP!!! Thomas backhanded him and ripped the ball out of his hands “Haha! Greggy Boy you are the biggest puss I have ever met in my fucking life! You won’t ever be anything!” With a smirk and a look of hate in his eyes, Thomas unzipped his pants and began to piss all over the young Greg’s head “Look at you! You can’t even fight back! Geez it’s no wonder you parents didn’t want you. How could anyone be proud of having such a pussy for a son!” Once Thomas was finished he buttoned his pants, kicked Greg in the ribs and walked away laughing. Greg just chose to lay there for awhile, humiliated and sore he wept quietly to himself.
  6. Thanks, I’m trying to chronicle my characters life and experiences. I am just trying to do it through a different means than just a journal. I want it to be almost like memories being recalled by an older version of himself. There will be at least one entry per day possibly more if enough interesting occurrences happen
  7. Part 1 Somewhere in Central Chernarus, a Corporation Operator stirs out of slumber during his brief nightly rest. He sits up against the trunk of the cedar he was resting beneath and draws his wool blanket tightly around his broad shoulders, quietly blending into the shadows of the underbrush. “What woke me up?” The operator ponders in his mind as he wraps his fingers tightly around his Combat Knife. He peers into the thick blackness pressing in all around him, and as his eyes adjust to the dark he slowly begins to make out shapes of trees, broken brush and scattered organic debris along the forest floor. “Something is lurking there...watching me...waiting for an opening...” These thoughts hammer through the skull of the seasoned operator, he couldn’t see his foe. He merely felt its presence, a primal, malicious consciousness stretching its tendrils through the dark, cold night. “This is no man.” The operator thinks, “No man can face the primal dark with such prowess, all men fear the dark. This is a beast of these woods, and I am a trespasser in his home.” The operator sits in absolute silence, the only sounds were the slow rhythmic beating of his own heart pumping blood and oxygen through his muscles. There he sat tensed as a coiled viper waiting to strike out at any would be assailant. Time passed and then it happened, the clouds parted for a moment and the silver beams of moonlight passed through the forest canopy. The operator saw the flash of two large eyes 30 feet in front of his position, then the outline became clear, a lone grey wolf stood crouched waiting for his moment to kill. The two apex predators locked eyes, both knowing the other would not yield, and in half the span of a single heartbeat... the fight was on. It would be a battle of titans, both hunters, both killers, both without a single ounce of fear in their heart. The two warriors fought with an intense primal rage that would shake the foundations of even the most hardened soldiers. Then all grew still. The clouds blanketed the moon once again and the forest floor grew dark and the silent blackness once again swallowed the world inside the forest. Part 2 The darkness slowly began to melt away with the coming of dawn. The operator sat on his knees as he carefully tended to his own wounds. The once proud lord of this forest lay lifeless on the ground a few feet away. “You just couldn’t have left me alone, could you brother?” Thought the operator. He felt a great sadness for the death of such a proud beast. “Well I can’t let his life mean nothing.” The operator began to skin the carcass with means of using his fur for some meager comfort in his bedroll. He then dug a shallow grave and gave his opponent a proper burial, and was on his way. The road was long and the sun was hot, bearing down in his combat gear he was soon soaked through with sweat he figured if he traveled north west he would reach the airfield before nightfall and could resupply his dwindling reserves of food and ammunition. Soon the operator came upon a small town, he could smell the village before he could see it. That was one advantage the living had in this new world of the dead, the smell of rot and decay was so powerful it was as if someone had physically struck him. The operator crested the a small hill and looked down upon what was once a charming little hamlet, but It was now a citadel of the dead. The previous inhabitants were still quite at home but instead of greeting each other with friendly faces and cordial hellos, they were petrified, shambling husks of people. Remnants of a long dead past. The operator sat crouched with his binoculars, scanning the village for possible dangers or even other survivors. He still had his monthly quota of blood and tissue samples to collect and if he came up short again the Doctor would not be pleased. As he scanned the village, all at once he heard “CRACK...CRACK...CRACK”. The shots echoed off the surrounding countryside. “Some idiot is shooting a fucking Mosin!?” The operator mutters a string of curses under his breath. The whole town was now a swarm of activity. The hoarse cries of the dead a deafening roar. There wouldn’t be any sneaking through the town now. The operator backtracked down the hill and cut into the wood line to his left. After a few minutes of travel he heard some muffled static and a short break of garbled speech in his earpiece, he adjusted a few dials on his transmitter and replied “Say again?” His rough, gravely voice seemed strange to him. He was never one to speak much, and usually when he had to converse with other humans he came across harsh and callous. “Bulldog this is Knight, do you copy?” The voice of his fellow operator came through clear and precise “10-4 Knight, I read you Lima Charlie” after a pause “Bulldog this is Knight, what’s your 20?” The operator replied “20 is unsure currently, somewhere South-East of Northern Airfield. Set an RV at the Northern Wall?” A moments pause “10-4 Bulldog, Wolfe and Myself will meet you there. Knight out.” The operator switched his transmitter of and thinks to himself “Fuckin’ great.. they are sending backup” he figured after not checking in for three days that this was bound to happen. He began traveling to the north west and in a few hours time found himself at the RV point that he has set for his comrades. He climbs into a watchtower to wait for his squad mates and sits back. Soon he is lost in his own thoughts. Thoughts of a different time a different place. Lost to time forever. “Greg! The fuck are you doin? You fuckin pussy!!” Thomas was screaming at him l, his nose just a few inches from his face. Thomas was the undisputed tough guy at Mrs. Callahan’s foster home. He and Greg had both been there since they were infants, Thomas was a few months older than himself. “I... I just wanted to play with the baseball...” replied Greg, “Well that’s MY FUCKING BASEBALL YOU LITTLE BITCH!” SLAP!!! Thomas backhanded him and ripped the ball out of his hands “Haha! Greggy Boy you are the biggest puss I have ever met in my fucking life! You won’t ever be anything!” With a smirk and a look of hate in his eyes, Thomas unzipped his pants and began to piss all over the young Greg’s head “Look at you! You can’t even fight back! Geez it’s no wonder you parents didn’t want you. How could anyone be proud of having such a pussy for a son!” Once Thomas was finished he buttoned his pants, kicked Greg in the ribs and walked away laughing. Greg just chose to lay there for awhile, humiliated and sore he wept quietly to himself.
  8. Somewhere in Central Chernarus, a Corporation Operator stirs out of slumber during his brief nightly rest. He sits up against the trunk of the cedar he was resting beneath and draws his wool blanket tightly around his broad shoulders, quietly blending into the shadows for the underbrush. “What woke me up?” The operator ponders in his mind as he wraps it fingers tightly around his Combat Knife.  He peers into the thick blackness pressing in all around him, and as his eyes adjust to the dark he slowly begins to make out shapes of trees, broken brush and scattered organic debris along the forest floor. “Something is lurking there...watching me...waiting for an opening...” These thoughts hammer through the skull of the seasoned operator, he couldn’t see his foe. He merely felt its presence, a primal, malicious consciousness stretching its tendrils through the dark, cold night. “This is no man.” The operator thinks, “No man can face the primal dark with such prowess, all men fear the dark. This is a beast of these woods, and I am a trespasser in his home.” The operator sits in absolute silence, the only sounds were the slow rhythmic beating of his own heart pumping blood and oxygen through his muscles. There he sat tensed as a coiled viper waiting to strike out at any would be assailant. Time passed and then it happened, the clouds parted for a moment and with the silver beams of moonlight passed through the forest canopy. The operator saw the flash of two large eyes 30 feet in front of his position, then the outline became clear, a lone grey wolf stood crouched waiting for his moment to kill. The two apex predators locked eyes, both knowing the other would not yield, and in half the span of a single heartbeat... the fight was on. It would be a battle of titans, both hunters, both killers, both without a single ounce of fear in their heart. The two warriors fought with an intense primal rage that would shake the foundations of even the most hardened soldiers. Then all grew still. The clouds blanketed the moon once again and the forest floor grew dark and the silent blackness once again swallowed the world inside the forest.

    B2AF7A1A-CEB3-4BDE-AA2E-3573000E846D.jpeg

  9. The only information known about Operator Bulldawg before the Corporation is that he was sentenced to life in SuperMax prison for multiple charges of assault, battery and murder. ///WARNING/// THIS OPERATOR IS TO BE WATCHED CLOSELY, IF TRIGGERED HE WILL BECOME EXTREMELY VIOLENT. EXTREME CAUTION IS TO BE IMPLEMENTED WHEN PERFORMING FIELD OPS.
  10. Cottonmouth was a Louisiana native who spent most of his childhood in juvenile detention facilities. He was absolutely a bad egg. Sociopath, Paranoid Schizophrenic, Bipolar and an extreme hatred towards cats. He found satisfaction in slowly torturing small animals to study how they responded to different types of pain, eventually this led to his own twisted "human trials". Cottonmouth was serving a life sentence for multiple accounts of kidnapping and murder in the first degree when he was notified he would be transported. Someone had decided to pay enough money to actually own this freak show. His life would soon be altered, in his mind for the better, in this strange new world.
  11. Walter Scott is a Texas Native who served in the Dallas PD police force, after ten years of service he became a Detective and took a job in Detroit, Michigan. After the death of his partner Detective Emmanuel Cortes he took some leave from work to visit his brother who had recently moved to Russia. While visiting the outbreak happened and after a tragic incident Walter was forced to kill his own infected brother. Since then he has traveled to Chernarus hoping to find a reason to keep living.
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