Full Name: Trent Andrews<br/><br/>Age: 21 1/2<br/><br/>Gender: male<br/><br/>Height: 6' 2"<br/><br/>Weight: 198<br/><br/>Human Appearance:<a class="postlink" href="http://i833.photobucket.com/albums/zz260/TimeKeys/smexy/Ederson-Brazilian-Blond-Fashion-Model.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/>Special Talents: Healing, Inventing<br/><br/>Personality: Eccentric, Creative, Curious, Kind, Warm, Easy going, Lively, Romantic<br/><br/>Family: Mother - Gela Andrews : Deceased Father - Nexos Andrews : Deceased, Brother (twin): Mathias Andrews<br/><br/>Past: Doesn't really have that interesting of a past. Travels around to different realms. Has been an inventor since he was three years old. Had two eccentric parents that made him grow up to be an eccentric inventor. Graduated Highschool at thirteen. Was out of college with several majors by twenty one.<br/><br/>Other: Twin brother Mathias Andrews<br/><br/>Is an inventor and is working on a robot called Cheebo<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://i833.photobucket.com/albums/zz260/TimeKeys/sumomo.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/>*finished product*<br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/>JUNE 1ST<br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/>Trent walked through the country of France. To be exact...Paris, France. He had just finished a semi-delightful semi-please shoot me this man is too serious...meeting with a scientist name Paul Marquis. The man was way old and way stuck up. Still he had learned some interesting perceptions from the man. Aside from that...nothing. It had been a complete waste of time. The mane was more into drink and weed than in his work. Most of what he had said had to be heard over the coughing of the people hidden in back. Least he hadn't used it around him. In any case...it was a fruitless venture. Ah...but now...now he was free to roam around in Paris....the city of love. Yeah he was a romantic. He happened to like being such.<br/><br/>His long hair currently tied back in an almost elegant ponytail. He worked on Cheebo. She was almost done. The skin she had felt real. It was synthetic and artificial yet it was real. Her hair real hair. Her eyes similar yet not real. He continued working. Just a few final fine tuning with the tools in the special glove he wore. When he finished his tinkering he put Cheebo back in the special pouch holster on his side. Moving his jacket back over it. Short sleeved jacket on over a semi-tight top that was loose enough to not suction but tight enough with the right movements it showed off the toned muscular structure. Sure he was an inventor but that didn't mean he didn't need to keep himself in shape.<br/><br/>He had on a pair of jeans that hugged his form yet also weren't suctioned. He flexed his hand into a fist. The glove began to unfold from the very tips. Folding backwards half inch by half inch from the very tips. These folds sinking into each other and folding downwards. Continuing to do this until it folded back into the band upon his wrist. This band returning to a normal leather band. Or so it would seem. "Ah...Paris...the city of love.  Romance. Passion. Amants se caressent dans le danse au clair de lune." (french for: Romance. Passion. Lovers caress within the moonlight dance.) He continued walking. Buying a cinnamon pastry stick and eating it. "mmmm bon apetit." He said. Enjoying the taste of it. Nothing much to do when in the city of love but enjoy sights, taste and all sorts of exotic beauty.<br/><br/>Before long it was turning towards later afternoon. The sunset starting to fall into the horizon. He stood against a rail which overlooked a cliff that dropped into a beach of pearly white sands. These pearly white specks of minerals led into the now sparkling and shimmering ocean waters. Waters that rose to kiss the falling autumn colors of red, orange, and yellow. Those leading into the darker purples and blues. He was not one to keep his guard up. He had it up some but apparently not enough. The next thing that shot through his mind was a sharp pain. This pain caused by the rough thrusting inwards of a razor sharp needle into his veins. A pulsating stinging burn shooting throughout his very core. Then darkness. His form slumped. As his vision blurred he heard blurred and muffled voices. Much like someone in a coma hears before the eternal darkness takes over their thoughts.<br/><br/>When he came to he was laying on his side with arms behind him and his legs. His mouth gagged. The room was dark and lit only by one swinging dimly lit latern light. He still had his bracelet and the pouch with cheebo. Everything else on his person had been taken or destroyed. With some struggle he was able to activate the glove and use the laser tool to cut through the ropes binding wrists and ankles. A slight burn to his back and a thin burned through hole in his shirt proof of his doing this. When freed of his limbs his glove shut itself off. Indicating an electronic pulse sent it into reboot mode. This mode installed so eventually he'd be forced to initiate a rest period.<br/><br/>He stood up and looked around. This wasn't good. He spent this time to study his surroundings. He noticed a grate overhead and some power controls. He continud to study yet provide them with neither any trouble nor information or assistance. He was rather bruised on his chest by the end of this first day.<br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/>AFGHANISTAN<br/>JUNE 3RD<br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/>He looked down at the man who laid unconscious upon the ground. He had seen them shut the door after the man came in with food. He had no need for the gun. Merely that communication device he had. That taser. A few other odds and ends within the man's person. He was now rigging himself an electrical hacking current negator device. Which he would use to break out of this room, mess with their security, and fry all but necessary amounts of electricity. In other words...a path out of here. He was tired and weak. Battered and bruised. All he knew was they wanted him to make him ultimate something. Yes he knew various basic dialects but this mixture was not one he had ever heard of. Yet from what he gathered...it was something very bad. He wanted no part of this.<br/><br/>He stopped and heard gunfire. He looked at Cheebo. So close. He could turn his created by science yet living child into activated mode soon. Very soon. Just...not here. He went back to tinkering. "Ahah!" He said. It powered up and he smiled. Going over to the box and began using the new tool. Outside the lights would start to flicker on and off as he typed into the touch screen phone. Sparking in places. The alarms turned red then blooooooooooooooooooooooooooed out. ~Alarm system deactivated~ Came the computerized voice. He continued to use this and type randomly. Tinker with a few things. ~Security systems now offline.~ Came the computerized voice again.<br/><br/>He tampered a bit more. ~Power disengaged...initiating emergency lighted escape path now~ Came another A loud buzzing could be heard as he got the doors to unlock and swing open. Sparks flew and he dropped it. The thing exploding and turned into a flaming pile of now molted wreckage. "hmmm...oops. Seems that wasn't stable enough for all of that. Oh well...when you invent...doesn't always come out perfection. Not like...Cheebo is." He then turned and picked up the gun. Then he hurried out into the darkness. He moved with his hand to the wall. At least until he saw the lights. Hurrying over and followed their path. He heard muffled voices around the corner. He pressed into the wall. A chinese dude came and started firing. He jumped back into the shadows.<br/><br/>Crap. He knew which way to point the weapon in his hands. Now...how the hell did you operate it. He was playing around with it when he pulled the trigger. The shot went off and fired. Ricotteching off a few things before hitting the man behind the dude. He blinked. "That was unfortunate. But huh...so that is how it works. I do believe that isn't how it is supposed to be done but..." He began using his genius skills to fire bullets in a way they ricotteched to distract the people. Bolting past them and out into a more well lit area. He had no idea where he was going. Shouting told him they had realized he was not trapped. He almost yelped when a bullet intended for hitting him in the leg to knock him down just<span style="font-style: italic">BARELY</span>missed truly hit him. "OUCH!" He yelled out. Loud enough it echoed all around and into the areas near him.<br/><br/>A trail of blood going down his leg from the bullet graze. Well that stung. Gah! This was no time to be fascinating and studying the facts. He had an ever so slight limp because he was not used to such things. He made it into another room. Flying to the ground and almost losing his hold on his consfiscated with only about six shots remaining weapon. He rolled onto his back. Trigger. Located. Finger pressing on it. Check. What now? Um...pull? Yeah pull. He fired and the guy let out a strew of broken English that carried to the two rooms away where the good guys were.<span style="color: #FF0000">"Stupid. Fucking. Lucky s-shot. Inventor! I kill you."</span><br/><br/>Trent blinked and looked up. The guy had a hole through his left hand. He made a face. He rather disliked all that blood. Even more that he put it there. He turned and moved to get away. His hand lost the gun and it skidded across the floor when a heavy foot came down upon the bruised area in his spine. A stiffled cry of pain left his lips.<span style="color: #FFFF00">"Where think going?" Asked a dark and heavily accented man. Wasn't Russian but it was the voice of a man who worked with that russian. Javier Delough. A traitor to all countries.</span><br/><br/>Trent groaned. "To be honest? I was in the process of attempting escape. I believe it had gone quite spendidly up until now." He said with a lively and easy going voice. It was quite sexy but only to women and gay dudes.<span style="color: #FFFF00">The man scoffed. "Can't have that now...can we mr. inventor?"</span>