Name: James Guillermo Rose
Age: 19
Gender: male
Height: 173cm
Weight: 78kg
Eye Color: brown
Hair Color: dirty blonde
Ethnicity: Hispanic-caucasian
Appearance: Image in black and white because I'm too broke for colored
Other Information: Due to being a Factor, his body boasts of increased healing rates, strength, reflexes and senses that put him way over what an average joe would be able to achieve; due to a slew of unresolved issues however, Guille boasts of a remarkable gravitation towards overly boisterous and extravagant shenanigans, closely described by the Chuunibyou archetype.
These advantages over non-factor individuals also comes with an extremely longevous lifespan, being practically immune to the passage of time, his body ceasing to age after a certain point he hasn't reached just yet.
Despite still having both his eyes intact thanks to his Machina's nanomachines, he still insists on covering one of them up with a bandage - the only reason it's not an eyepatch is because he doesn't like them from a visual standpoint.
He constantly blathers on and on about "justice" in his case defined by "The capability to live on", expanded upon as something closer to fighting for his survival and that of others; a simple, naïve belief that with power he can make it so no one else has to die needlessly like he once did.
Biography: A stowaway from the colonies with the dream to perhaps get a proper life down on the Earth's surface, of perhaps getting a better lot than what'd been given to him - a mediocre education, a mediocre life, and a mediocre outlook on what'd come afterwards should he follow the demands of the job market; so, in his boundless intellect, Guillermo hid inside a freighter on route to the earth - y'know, it's a long trip, what's a nap or two gonna do to someone like him, it's not like the entire ship was gonna come down from an alien attack-.
The Morning after that freighter left on its way down to the pale blue dot, it'd come careening down through the athmosphere like a shooting star - cutting down through the clouds until crashing down a mere kilometer away from an active battleground. The answer given when asked the classic "well how did you survive?" is always the same: "I didn't." Point at which young Rose would simply walk away from that conversation.
In truth, he did perish that day, the containers he'd hidden between having been broken apart by the intial impacts that send them headfirst into the athmosphere, his body ending up a needlessly mangled mess upon hitting the ground. But there was a thing down under the rubble, its eyes barely visible through the chunks of shrapnel and pouring blood that threatened to take away his vision and whatever blood was still flowing properly to his head; a whimper of help barely escaping from him, an outstretched hand towards that odd buried demon, and it answered the call without reply other than a bright green glint in its eyes.
Mobile Weapon: Linebarrel
The Linebarrel additionally boasts of an abnormally high rate of regeneration, allowing it to repair most of its damage in a matter of hours; or most minimal injuries practically within seconds.
it seems to count with several other options and functions currently outside of James' own capabilities.
Affiliation: Unaffiliated for the moment
Combat Style: Bruiser
Strengths: The Linebarrel's high firepower and regeneration allow it to dish out large amounts of damage while swallowing an equally large amount of damage - the lower end of damages being practically brushed off entirely - practically carrying its pilot's flaws with sheer brute force.
Weaknesses: Linebarrel's strongest weapon - the Executor - consumes a hilariously large amount of energy, be it when fired as a cannon (barely having 6 shots before being too much for the Machina to take in one deployment) or when used as a "Fuckoff laser sword" (reportedly strong enough to sweep a weapon's satellite out of the sky).
Energy constraints aside, the pilot's an exuberant idiot, his attempts at extravagant moves and quick pauses to boast, taunt or monologue at his opponents - let's not talk about the goddamn poses - leave flagrantly obvious openings in his stances and attacks. The lack of any trained Finesse or proper training in general only adding into that, as most his attacks are mere brute force corrected for by the Machina itself
Age: 19
Gender: male
Height: 173cm
Weight: 78kg
Eye Color: brown
Hair Color: dirty blonde
Ethnicity: Hispanic-caucasian
Appearance: Image in black and white because I'm too broke for colored
Other Information: Due to being a Factor, his body boasts of increased healing rates, strength, reflexes and senses that put him way over what an average joe would be able to achieve; due to a slew of unresolved issues however, Guille boasts of a remarkable gravitation towards overly boisterous and extravagant shenanigans, closely described by the Chuunibyou archetype.
These advantages over non-factor individuals also comes with an extremely longevous lifespan, being practically immune to the passage of time, his body ceasing to age after a certain point he hasn't reached just yet.
Despite still having both his eyes intact thanks to his Machina's nanomachines, he still insists on covering one of them up with a bandage - the only reason it's not an eyepatch is because he doesn't like them from a visual standpoint.
He constantly blathers on and on about "justice" in his case defined by "The capability to live on", expanded upon as something closer to fighting for his survival and that of others; a simple, naïve belief that with power he can make it so no one else has to die needlessly like he once did.
Biography: A stowaway from the colonies with the dream to perhaps get a proper life down on the Earth's surface, of perhaps getting a better lot than what'd been given to him - a mediocre education, a mediocre life, and a mediocre outlook on what'd come afterwards should he follow the demands of the job market; so, in his boundless intellect, Guillermo hid inside a freighter on route to the earth - y'know, it's a long trip, what's a nap or two gonna do to someone like him, it's not like the entire ship was gonna come down from an alien attack-.
The Morning after that freighter left on its way down to the pale blue dot, it'd come careening down through the athmosphere like a shooting star - cutting down through the clouds until crashing down a mere kilometer away from an active battleground. The answer given when asked the classic "well how did you survive?" is always the same: "I didn't." Point at which young Rose would simply walk away from that conversation.
In truth, he did perish that day, the containers he'd hidden between having been broken apart by the intial impacts that send them headfirst into the athmosphere, his body ending up a needlessly mangled mess upon hitting the ground. But there was a thing down under the rubble, its eyes barely visible through the chunks of shrapnel and pouring blood that threatened to take away his vision and whatever blood was still flowing properly to his head; a whimper of help barely escaping from him, an outstretched hand towards that odd buried demon, and it answered the call without reply other than a bright green glint in its eyes.
Mobile Weapon: Linebarrel
The Linebarrel additionally boasts of an abnormally high rate of regeneration, allowing it to repair most of its damage in a matter of hours; or most minimal injuries practically within seconds.
it seems to count with several other options and functions currently outside of James' own capabilities.
Affiliation: Unaffiliated for the moment
Combat Style: Bruiser
Strengths: The Linebarrel's high firepower and regeneration allow it to dish out large amounts of damage while swallowing an equally large amount of damage - the lower end of damages being practically brushed off entirely - practically carrying its pilot's flaws with sheer brute force.
Weaknesses: Linebarrel's strongest weapon - the Executor - consumes a hilariously large amount of energy, be it when fired as a cannon (barely having 6 shots before being too much for the Machina to take in one deployment) or when used as a "Fuckoff laser sword" (reportedly strong enough to sweep a weapon's satellite out of the sky).
Energy constraints aside, the pilot's an exuberant idiot, his attempts at extravagant moves and quick pauses to boast, taunt or monologue at his opponents - let's not talk about the goddamn poses - leave flagrantly obvious openings in his stances and attacks. The lack of any trained Finesse or proper training in general only adding into that, as most his attacks are mere brute force corrected for by the Machina itself
