Cyril Samar

by **Epsilon** June 23rd 2013, 12:56 am

Harrier
"I am alone; I am always alone no matter what." -Marilyn Monroe

Basic Biography

Real Name: Cyril Samar
Renegade/Hero/Villain Name: Harrier
Title: Just the right guy for the job
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral/Renegade
Age: 1.75 Earth Years
Gender: Male
Race: Plovian
Hair: Black
Eyes: Amber
Height: 6'6"
Weight: 210 lbs
Blood type: A+

The Looks

The specimen known to the humans as 'Cyril Samar' possesses a figure reaching 6 foot 6, and weighing in at 210 pounds. His hair is the color of darkness, black and styled in a short, professional way atop a head that is pigmented somewhere between a chestnut and copper color. The most interesting feature of Cyril's face, however, would have to be his eyes. The eyes are bright amber, and looking into them speaks a message of warning and capability. His strong jawline completes the face, and sets the precedence for Cyril's confident and proud posture. The man generally wears average clothing, though he leans towards the sharper side of dress. All in all, Cyril extrudes an air of professionalism and ability. He might catch a few eyes on a street, but when competing with superhumans, his impressive visage doesn't attract nearly the attention it might once have.

The specimen known to the humans as 'Harrier' shares Cyril's height and weight, along with eye color and physique. Both Cyril and Harrier are chiseled statues of hard work and dedication, lean and strong. Harrier's costume is skintight, covering his entire body, and made to both offer protection and allow for movement. The backside of the torso is dark blue-grey, with the frontside of the torso just a tad lighter blue-grey. The legs are the same dark blue-grey as the back of the torso, with the boots and gloves being black. Harrier's head is completely covered by a cowl that on the back is black, but is splashed in the center front with more blue-grey. The classic white eye circles cover Harrier's true eye color, and surrounding them swooping towards the sides of his head where the ears would be are two separated black swooshes. There are two slits on the sides of Harrier's cowl, one each on the side of his head, that match up with the black swooshes. Harrier wears a multi-pouched, brown utility belt around his waist.

This is because Harrier, or Cyril Samar, or whatever someone were to call him, is not human. It will be discussed in the history, but in terms of image there are some differences from the average human. Harrier's ears are large and elongated, and they fit through the holes in his cowl so that his hearing is unobstructed. The ears are black, and give the impression that the black swooshes from his mask have become three dimensional. Along with the rest of his body, the ears are scaled like a reptile. Around his shoulders, Harrier has what appears to be a cape clasped in the front. If one looks closer, though, they can see that it is actually a pair of wings that Harrier folds to simulate a cape when he's not using them. The wings are feathered, reaching up well above his head when not folded as a cape. The inside of the wings is light blue-grey, while the outside is a dappled mixture of black and dark blue-grey. The costume in general has various shades that provides camouflage. A prehensile tail that comes to a point provides balance while in flight, and rounds out the inhuman aspects of Harrier's appearance.

When thinking of colors and harriers, think this color scheme:

The Legacy

Personality: Cyril treats his associates with the respect that he feels they've deserved. If you've accomplished your goals, then your respect from him has increased. He highly prizes getting the job done, and leaving something unfinished infuriates him. At the same time, Cyril can't help but be annoyed by those who don't know when to back out and finish the job at a later date. He prefers his own company, but will put up with others when acting the part of the human or engaging in a business transaction. Cyril is rather professional when it comes to business. He doesn't care who needs his skills, or for what, as long as they make good on their end of the bargain. He also isn't too particular with what's needed of him, seeing as he is confident in his abilities that he can accomplish virtually any goal with enough time and just the right idea.

As to be expected by that, once he has a target or goal to accomplish, it gets done. It just gets done on his terms and in his timeline. If someone wants him on the job, they have to be willing to hand him the reigns of whatever task they need accomplished. Cyril doesn't make personal connections, he makes business connections. At the end of the day, Cyril puts himself and his survival at the forefront, with the job just behind it, and everyone else kinda off over there somewhere. His social skills are rather lacking, though he knows when to turn on the tact in order to make ends meet. This translates into focus as well. When Cyril, or rather Harrier, is working a job, the concentration in his amber eyes does indeed remind one of a bird of prey circling for the kill.

History:
Day One:
The team has been assembled, the contracts have been signed, and there is no turning back. I find myself in the employ of eleven other brilliant plovian minds, along with a single kaklite. The others don't trust her, but I figure she deserves a chance for the information that she brought us. Plus, us girls have to stick together! I'm super excited to begin work on the specimen tomorrow, even Dr. Hortip is eager to begin. There's never been a scientific experiment with this much funding and support behind it in the history of the planet, and we've been assured that the numbers are only a formality! The search for the perfect candidates begins tomorrow as well, along with the official opening of the facility. There's so much riding on this, I don't know if I'm up to the challenge. But the kaklite armies won't stop attacking civilian outposts, so I suppose we can't rest either!

Day Nine:
It's been over a week since the search began for the appropriate genetic materials needed. Yurna, the kaklite scientist, has been a surprising help, even to me! The search has lasted for much longer than anyone expected, but after sampling what must have been most of the population on the planet, we finally found what we need. Dr. Hortip finally dismissed the rest of the line, calling the rest of us into the lab immediately. A group of sixteen plovians awaited us there. We finally made progress! The subjects were led to their rooms and left to acclimate to the facility. I've been assigned to keeping them healthy. Not my first choice, but important nonetheless. I received another letter from my father today, they're holding up well enough. The troops in the neighborhood saved them again today during a raid. I have to do the best I can here, if not for the plovian empire, then at least for my family.

Day Fourteen:
We had our first casualty today. A younger volunteer. They took him away covered by a sheet, but we all know what was under it. The other volunteers know it too. They've gotten jumpier, some of them almost won't let me in the room anymore to bring them their food. Dr. Hortip's become quieter, more focused. The rest of the team's on edge too. I heard Urnt and Ikle arguing over coffee this morning, something they've never done before. I went into the lab to drop something off yesterday, and got my first glimpse of what we're really doing. Right now we don't have much, just a lot of liquid in a big jar, but the blip on the machines means that something's there. The machines even sped up when I went in, and the others shooed me out pretty fast. I saw Yurna in there; her face seems older now. Maybe kaklites age differently than we do. It's funny, I only start thinking about our neighbors in the universe when it's to destroy them. Volunteer seven is convulsing again, I need to see to her.

Day Twenty-Six:
Only Dr. Hortip, Yurna, and Twij are allowed in the room with the experiment now. We've lost another two volunteers, and the others have become so hostile that I have a guard who accompanies me on my rounds. If I'm being honest, I've noticed more guards here recently. I can't believe how many are being spared from the front lines, where they're really needed. I suppose it's not my place to question that. The guard that comes with me seems nice enough, not very chatty though. I managed to figure out that his name is Blek. He doesn't carry a weapon, which seems odd to me. Instead he takes on any attacks from the volunteers with quick and sure hand to hand combat. I can tell he's a master at it, and manages to subdue them without a problem. The team talks less as a group now, when I joined I figured it would be this glorious think tank of the brightest minds to combat the war. I suppose I was mistaken.

Day Thirty-Four:
I can scarcely go anywhere around the facility now without an escort. It's beginning to feel less and less like we're appreciated here. The reports claim that the increased amount of troops around us is because the facility is serving a duel purpose at the moment. To house us and our experiment, and to house troops who are scheduled for airlift to Kaklite. I don't envy them, the ride to Kaklite is almost as dangerous as the toxic place itself. I've seen the reports of the air quality over there, horrible. Sadly, it seems that we are losing this war. I managed to get an audience with Dr. Hortip today, to express my frustration with not being able to take part in the most exciting pieces of what we're doing here. He actually permitted me to visit the lab! Oh, it's been so long since I was in a laboratory, I felt like a new scientist all over again! There is now something in the container filled with liquid, though it still lacks definite shape. For now the closest I can think of is a disc for throwing that children play with. Or... that children would play with... if it were safe for them to play anymore. I suppose that's why I'm still here. We need this experiment to succeed. Otherwise... I don't want to think about what would happen to us.

Day Forty-Two:
A massive breakthrough! Dr. Hortip was so excited he called a meeting, something he hasn't done since the guards started to increase. The air was... different. It wasn't the same cheery, excited feeling that we'd had on the first day. Still, we're scientists, and we got to work almost immediately. After the midday meal, we were led into the lab, much like we had been all those days ago. The liquid jar remained, but now a definite figure could be seen within. The growth rate was astonishing! Even as we stood there, discussing the creature, I noticed it got at least half an inch larger. The meeting went well, and the atmosphere had certainly taken a turn for the better now that we all knew our efforts weren't going to waste. When I later got a call that another three volunteers had left us, I was less upset than I should have been. This means we only have ten of the original volunteers remaining. I will make sure to try my best and keep them comfortable. I suppose there's a sickness going around their rooms, but I cannot move them without the Doctor's authorization, and he's refused to give it. The least I can do is make them as comfortable as possible in their last days.

Day Fifty-Five:
The facility was attacked today. Kaklites, straight out of the sky, attacked us without warning. I was lucky to be near to a safe room. Urnt wasn't. I can still hear Ikle mourning while I write this. The two of them were close, closer perhaps than any of the rest of us. Half of the remaining volunteers were also caught in the attack, meaning my charges now only number five. They've actually become extremely docile, but seem to have lost the ability to speak. Blek and I still haven't really gotten to know each other, but then again, maybe that's a good thing here. The experiment seems to be coming along well at any rate. That's if Dr. Hortip's mood is any indication. He's been beaming at anyone in the facility all week. Yurna doesn't seem to share his demeanor. Come to think about it, I didn't see here around when we went on our tour of the laboratory as a group. When I asked her about it, she simply responded that she'd needed to lie down from so much excitement, but I have a bad feeling about it all. I owe the soldiers here my life, and for that, I will redouble my efforts again for the future.

Day Sixty-Nine:
I... uh... got another letter today. It's been so horrible here that I hadn't even thought about it, but a letter came in finally. The kaklites attacked my hometown again. This time, I wasn't so lucky. My father and grandmother were killed in the attack, and my mother died from her wounds a few days later. Now only my brother lives on, and he's run off to join the resistance. Is it not enough that we're fighting the kaklites, that we must fight one another as well?! I'm down to only four volunteers now, and they can't be far behind. Dr. Hortip assured me that I'm doing all I can, but I don't even know what that means anymore. My only consolation is that Blek seems to have finally opened up to me. He's got a wife on Kaklite tending the wounded. I can't imagine how he must feel. My brother might be an idiot, but at least he had the sense to stay on the planet. I'm at a loss. Perhaps I'm just tired. Tomorrow might bring brighter tidings.

Day Seventy-Three:
There's only one volunteer left. I've decided to focus my efforts on discovering why they perished, seeing as Dr. Hortip hasn't invited me back in the laboratory. I spent the day studying the remaining volunteer, but unfortunately didn't learn much. I rarely see anyone else on the team nowadays. It's almost as though they aren't even here any more. Blek is the only one I ever see consistently, and Dr. Hortip I see on occasion. After hours of watching the last volunteer, I started talking to him. At first, he exhibited fear, avoiding me when I entered his room. Then, as I began to talk with him, he seemed to grow more comfortable. Eventually, I got him to come right up to me. It was a bit like a small child, or perhaps an animal is more accurate. Either way, the deterioration of the volunteers has never sat well with me. I expressed my concerns to Dr. Hortip today, and he assured me that I shouldn't worry about it. The guards have started to look at me funny. Almost like I'm a threat. That's crazy, isn't it? They're here to protect me... right?

Day Eighty-Six:
They're coming for me now, I know they are. There was another attack on the facility, this time the kaklites were working with a new type of creature. I overheard Dr. Hortip calling them 'humans'. That doesn't matter though, what matters is that the last volunteer is dead, and they don't need me any more. I snuck into the laboratory yesterday, I just had to see how progress was going. The tube was gone. Instead, there was a new room that seemed to be hastily built in the corner. I couldn't help myself, but I looked into the room. There was a figure curled up on the bed that I couldn't identify, and I'd seen everyone in the facility at least once. The creature seemed plovian, but even by the way that he seemed to be resting I could tell that this was not something to be awoken. I snuck back out, but maybe they caught me on camera, because I can hear them coming for me. Wait... What's that noi

Day Ninety-One:
Dr. Quon has been terminated. After reading through this log that she kept, I, Dr. Hortip, have decided to continue her log of our efforts, albeit in a slightly more formal manner. She served her purpose, as did the others. They have all been administered to the specimen to further its genetic tailoring. The last one to be administered is Dr. Yurna. I had hoped that the volunteers would have lasted longer than this delicate stage, but them coupled with the development team has proved adequate. The soldiers are tracking down our kaklite guest now, and soon she will provide the most useful step in defeating her own race. The arrival of human troops assisting the kaklites was an unexpected development, we were not aware that our enemies had the technology for the multidimensional transport yet. No matter. The specimen has passed the preliminary tests with flying colors, and after the good Dr. Yurna is added we shall move on to the more difficult stages of testing and development.

Day One Hundred:
No matter how long I remain in the employ of science, I will never be pretentious enough to claim that I know all her secrets. Not long after we'd administered the genetics of Dr. Yurna, the specimen began to convulse. The specimen had previously possessed most of plovian physiology, including the pointed ears and fangs, but we were wholly unprepared for what the kaklite genetic material altered in it. The specimen now possesses wings of all things, along with a tail that seems to assist it in balance. We were forced to hold off on the tests, as we almost lost the specimen today. The experiment is so close to being complete. Once we know that we can accomplish these hybrid creatures to fight our battles, the possibilities become endless for what we can make them do.

Day Two Hundred:
A full hundred days have passed since my last time of writing, and I fear that it will be my final time. We finally began the specimen on the more difficult tests, and the results blew us away. While not all the intelligence potential that we pumped in seemed to take, the specimen certainly seems to be smarter than it is letting on. It also outclasses the average plovian and kaklite alike in strength and toughness. The real jewel is the creatures speed. The specimen can easily outmaneuver even our fastest drones, and even some of our security systems. The power of flight, courtesy of the late Dr. Yurna, has proven a deadly combination with this speed. The true area of expertise seems to be hand to hand combat, though the specimen has proven to excel with all manner of weaponry, ranged and up close. Blek, the best known combatant in our world took to training the specimen personally, and now is taken down in a matter of moments. The specimen has proven itself time and again in all manner of situations to be resourceful, and always accomplishes its tasks. Killing is no object for it. But alas, we failed. The experiment has no desire to join the ranks in the fight against the kaklites. We shall have to modify our accelerated program for that. The job shall fall to someone else, as I have begun to fear for my safety from those piercing amber eyes. I fear my only option is to escape to the other dimension of earth and live alongside the humans to carry out my experiments. I shall leave this log with Blek, so that he may pass it to my successor. The device to alter my appearance to fit with that of the humans has been constructed, and currently rests in the very pen that I am using now to record this entry. The dimensional tear shall open in my office in any minute. To whom it may concern, I sincerely hope that you have better luck here than we did.

Day Three Hundred:
Hortip, guy's a real nut. He just tried to walk out. I put a stop to that. His bosses weren't ready for him to leave, so I stopped him from leaving. I suppose I should explain, that 'experiment', 'specimen', 'creature' that kept being referred to? That's me. I made a choice that day that Hortip tried to run, I chose to buy my freedom from this prison, with his life. I now live here, with the humans. I may or may not have swiped his device before I handed him over to the soldiers. The first week or so was difficult, but humans aren't hard to fool once you get the basics down. Most of them will shut up for money, and the ones that don't? Well, some humans realize that there're more important things than money. Life for example, is something that most humans find in short supply if they cross me. I found a name for myself, almost ashamed to admit how I got it. Let's just say that learning to read human wasn't easy. I've named myself 'Cyril', and for the last name that humans prize? I took one off some mail that someone wanted to disappear. That's what I'm doing now; making things, people, sometimes even ideas disappear. You want something done, I'm your guy, as long as you're willing to pay me what it's worth.

Day Three Hundred Sixty-Five:
I got some information recently about these things called 'metahumans'. I suppose normal humans can't do any of the things that these metahumans can. Most of my clients think I'm some sort of superhuman, and as long as it keeps them from prying, that's fine with me. I don't need anyone knowing about the things I did during my early stages. I've figured that having another name for business is ideal, so I've decided to use a creature called a 'bird' that I seem to resemble. Perhaps one day I'll look into my own genetic makeup, but honestly, there's no real point to it. I'm keeping on the low end of the metahuman spectrum, the less attention I attract the better. I don't pretend to understand the human laws, or why they persecute the ones who try to protect them, but it's none of my business. Harrier looks out for himself first, and everything else is a secondary objective.

The Powers

Power 1: Flight

Power 2: High Intelligence

Power 3: Superior Senses (including Night Vision)

Power 4: Increased Speed

Misc
The form that Harrier assumes (with the wings and ears and all that) is his default form. The 'human' form is the product of the device he stole and doesn't alter Cyril/Harrier's grid, it's just cosmetic. If I understand [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] correctly, then that means that there isn't a problem with that whole thing. (If there is, let me know.) When his Night Vision is activated, his eyes glow a solid, soft golden color that encompasses the entire eye. Cyril/Harrier's unique mixture of genetics means that his blood is close enough that it can pass for the A+ blood type. His metabolism is also rather demanding.

Grid
Intelligence: 5
Occult: 0
Strength: 4
Speed: 6
Durability: 4
Ability: 1
Fighting Skills: 8
Magic: 0
Spells: 0
Flight: 2
Wealth: 1

by **Chellizard** June 27th 2013, 3:03 am

Approved and moved. (:

Cyril Samar

Cyril Samar

Re: Cyril Samar