Bio Page: Razorback

General Callsign: Suicide Joined: 2000.04 Skins: Download Squads: none Intro: Past Returns History: Past Returns Inactive	Personal Name: Location: Birthdate: Email: razorback@antipode.cjb.net ICQ number: ? Website: Echoes of Ebony Forums:
Vehicles /

Character information: James Tanner

General history

Born in Utopia Planitia, Mars 2798. Employed as a scientist and engineer. Chief Navarre contracted him (unwillingly) to build torture devices, and he was witness to numerous atrocities. He fled Mars for Mercury in 2828, and during the Starsiege he and a group of other survivors managed to hide from the Cybrids. One by one they were captured, except Razorback, who managed to escape long enough to encounter the Ghosts.

Development of abilities

See Xenogears.

Traits

190cm 69kg sandy/blue Caucasian/American descent. Unemotional. Shows no feelings at all, anger, joy or anything in between (except after flashbacks). Has a near-perfect memory, and is very good with numbers. Mechanical engineering degree, electrical engineering degree, good background with computers. Excellent mechanic, often able to get machines to perform better that specifications, even with limited equipment. Sleeps very little, and is always busy, often doing three things at once. Spends his free time either tinkering with machines in the vehicle bay or in the Fantasma gardens working through hypothetical situations of all sorts, in an attempt to keep from thinking too much. Will socialize if invited, but does not go out of his way. Sometimes has flashbacks, usually triggered by fire or the sounds of screams, during the flashback (can last from 5 or 10 seconds to nearly half a minute) he freezes and afterwards he is prone to strong displays of emotion, usually anger.

Character study

He awakened tired, as usual, when the alarm sounded a bare hour after he'd gone to sleep. Fortunately, lately he seemed better able to sleep uninterrupted; the trick was to get to sleep to start with.

The previous night's tossing and turning he pushed from his mind, sitting up and angrily throwing the covers aside. He needed to worry about today, not last night.

He scowled. There was no mirror (why would he want to see himself?) and no cabinet either. He had to install one. He was tired of running down to Four to eat, which was probably how he ended up rail-thin.

He showered, even as he mentally mapped out his quarters and tried to remember where he'd thrown his boots and tool belt. He didn't get into Ops until late afternoon, and he'd be damned if he'd sit around his quarters and wait for his overactive mind to dredge up something else from his horrid past.

He emerged from the shower, dressing as he searched the room with his eyes. One boot. Belt on the table. The other boot flung into a corner.

He retrieved the boots and belt, muttering mental notes about necessary repairs. He had to keep busy.