Cardell, A.

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Cardell, A.
Posts: 1
Joined: Jun 26, 2011, 10:02 PM
Rank: Private First Class
Status: Healthy
Billet: None
Injuries: No injuries
Weapons: Unarmed
Designation: Rifleman
Location: Rhode Island (formerly Mississippi)

Cardell, A.

Post by Cardell, A. »

Name: Alex Cardell
Sex: Male
Age: 22
Date of Birth: April 12, 2221
Race: Caucasian
Height: 5'11
Weight: 190 lbs
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Black
Medical Record: N/A

Physical Appearance: Alex Cardell were to be described in one word, it'd be "unremarkable." At first glance there's nothing about him that sticks out or stays with someone, just an average looking white guy with black hair and brown eyes. His face is also just as unremarkable, with a default expression which can be described as "bland."

Personality: Alex Cardell is a quiet individual who keeps to himself, mostly. He's most often found in the background watching events unfold, only adding his input when he thinks it's most pertinent or when he's asked. When he does speak, it's often short and all kinds of blunt or caustic.

Though he can make a joke or two, Cardell's work ethic is as no bullshit as his beliefs on sugarcoating. Though he'll call someone out on what he thinks needs to be addressed, he also understands that mistakes are learned from, and usually doesn't hold them against people. The average civilian might find him an unpleasant conversation partner, but most Marines get along fine with him.

Background: Alex Cardell is a truly unremarkable individual, on the surface at least. He simply cruised through high school making no attempts at establishing a foundation for future life skills and education. Really, he was just sorta…there. When doing things outside of school like attending parties or sports games, he’d often stand just on the outside of whatever group he drifted to. If anyone addressed him, he’d answer with a short and to-the-point response that was as honest and even caustic as it was short. He didn’t really make any friends, only a couple fuck buddies and a co-worker who’d bitch about the job all day, occasionally asking Cardell for input of his own, which was usually short and not-so-sweet.

Of course this also meant that, when he finally did graduate high school, he had no plan for his life. The wake-up call of a seemingly pointless life made Cardell finally seriously consider his life options, and decided he’d earn some skills in the military, maybe get out someday and use those skills in a new job. That changed when he tried out for recon training on a whim, earned his MOS, and found a real calling.

Example Post: From Ward’s Helljumpers RP board :

There were no less than six Elites to the right. Their fire was constant, if inaccurate, but it was damn effective at its intended purpose: suppression.

Holvic and Richardson managed to combine their fire and drop one. Their rifles compensated each other's weakness in accuracy, rate of fire, and magazine capacity to make one double-headed hose of death that had made short work of one split-lip. Before they could turn onto the others, however, the two ODSTs found themselves leaning back behind their respective pieces of cover.

The plasma fire was too strong, and soon the Elites would use bounding tactics to overrun their position. Holvic looked across the hall and his eyes landing on Richardson, who in turn was looking to him. Behind his visor, Holvic's face cleared for a second before he activated his COM.

"Snake, ready a frag!" he said, his voice raised to be heard over the sound of combat, as he pulled a frag grenade from its pouch on his belt.

Richardson raised a hand, showing the grenade it held as if to say Already ahead of ya.

Holvic snorted with a wry grin before broadcasting to the whole squad, "All Oxide units, this is Vegas, two frags goin' out!"

With a nod to his teammate, Holvic pulled the pin, whipped out from behind his cover, and threw the frag down the hallway, Richardson mirroring his actions. They both ducked back and waited, and were rewarded with two explosions and the sounds of aliens letting out screams of pain.

When the two ODSTs whipped out again, their rifles raised, they saw only three Elites, all covered in the small flickering lightning of disabled energy shields, and all bleeding from shrapnel wounds.

The two Shock Troopers' rifles made quick and easy work of 'em. When the last fell dead, Holvic removed the empty empty magazine from his rifle and let it fall to the floor, inserted a new one and slapped it home, and slid the open bolt forward. As he was doing all this, a transmission came through.

"Vegas, this is Mother, interrogative: what's the SITREP on those tangos to our right?"

When he'd finished loading his rifle, Holvic keyed his own COM.

"Mother, this is Vegas," he began. "Tangos eliminated and flank cleared, moving to support other elements, over."

With a wave of his hand to his teammate, Holvic and Richardson moved back to their teammates position, noting the explosion of another frag (this one without the friendly heads-up) as they did so.

A cry of, "Damn! Buzzards on our rear have us pinned!" grabbed the corporal's attention. He and Richardson made their way to Mac and Owen's position.

"Heard you needed some help," Holvic said as he lid into what little cover he could find. Peering around and seeing only two Grunts and two Jackals, Holvic took careful aim, hoping the plasma flying around his head and shoulders would stay there, when he fired a single shot at a Grunt's methane tank.

The desired result was the welcomed outcome: the tank sent the Grunt into the air like a firecracker before exploding, knocking the Jackals, and more importantly their shields, down.

They never stood a chance before the four ODSTs annihilated them.

With a satisfied grin, Holvic smacked Mac's shoulder twice. "That's what I'm talkin' about, now let's get back to the others!"
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