Dietrich Krauser

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• Vital Stats

  • Name: Dietrich Krauser
  • Gender: Male
  • Played by: The_Strigoi
  • Nicknames: Diet (Pronounced "DEET")
  • Race: Caucasian
  • Deity: Agnostic
  • Age: 32
  • Body Type: Athletic
  • Height: 6'1"
  • Weight: 250lbs
  • Hair: Blonde
  • Eyes: Blue
  • Handedness: Right
  • Scars: Some visible on neck and torso.
  • Relationship Status: Single
  • Personality: Quiet, Stoic, Pragmatic
  • Likes: Eating, Reading, Writing
  • Dislikes: Unwarranted cruelty, Dishonorable behavior, Underhandedness

• Biography

  In the near future, mounting pressure from the looming threat of diminishing natural resources leads to heightened tensions between nations. The largest world powers lead the way for pioneering new sources of energy and the development of new technologies. In other regions of the globe, nations turn their eyes to the resources held by their neighbors. Border disputes increase in frequency, and in some extreme cases, sporadic fighting breaks out in between small nations in Africa, Eastern Europe, and the Middle-East. World leaders call for an immediate deescalation of aggressive acts committed across the world, with little result.
  
  Enter Dietrich Krauser. A man of German origin, Dietrich was once injured as a member of a PMC hired to protect shipping lanes from piracy off the Eastern coast of Africa. Badly disfigured by the blast from an RPG impacting the gunwale directly next to him, Dietrich was unable to carry on, and was eventually respectfully discharged from the PMC he'd been a part of for years. Using what money he'd put away from his time spent fighting piracy, Dietrich rebuilt his body with special augmentations and prosthetics. Afterward, he was arguably much better at his job than he was capable of being before. Now merged with top of the line bionics and technology, Dietrich sits poised to return to the realm of mercenary work as his own independent contractor, with the intention of eventually building a PMC of his own in order to earn a living off of the currently-growing global tumult.

• Basic Personality

  Dietrich was always a quiet sort. More so now than before, though. After having replaced an arm, a leg, and repaired much of his damaged body with cybernetic augments as a result of his war injury, it's become evident that there are some parts that can't be put back on once they're blown off.
  
  Dietrich is a gentle giant. He tends only to speak when spoken to, or if he has a good reason. And, like a giant, he can be a nigh-unstoppable powerhouse of physical destruction when the need arises. Through his combination of augments and military training, he's equally at home slinging brass casings as he is at slinging bodies through walls.
  
  He possesses a strong moral compass, as well as a conscience. While he's normally quiet, he'll be one of the first to speak out against things that are unethical. Dishonorable behavior is the fast-track to his bad side. He might be able to bench-press a smart car, but he's still human, and occasionally liable to act impulsively when pushed too close to the edge of his temper.
  
  Dietrich also boasts a sense of humor. He finds that jokes are an excellent way to dispel tension and enjoys making witty observations. He's also self-aware, and frequently makes light of his own tragic history to keep himself grounded.

• Sample Post

  He was brought back to reality by a familiar whisper on the wind. He opened his eyes as the sound coalesced into a rumble, then a growl, as a vehicle made its way up the road from the Southeast. His hands went through their practiced motions and retrieved the needed equipment from his kit as his vision quickly adapted to the darkness thanks to some discreet machinery in his eyes.
  
  Then he'd wait, staring straight ahead as the noise grew louder at the vehicle's approach. An almost eerie light melted through the trees as headlights shone through them from around the short bend up the road to his right. His eyes automatically dimmed it as the truck rounded the bend, lessening the contrast so he could get a good look at it.
  
  The vehicle matched the description given. So it was the one he'd take. His entire body tensed, like a spring ready to release its stored potential energy. He felt his moment had come more than saw it, sensing it in the vibrations the truck sent trembling through the ground as it closed in on top of his position. His legs fired like twin shotgun barrels, propelling him from his hiding spot and into the middle of the road with an arcing leap, like an athlete diving for a ball.
  
  He was only visible in the headlights for an instant before the truck drove over him, passing him overhead as he laid straightened on the road surface. Thrusting the device in his hands upwards, it would cling to the truck's chassis, adhering magnetically with an audible clank. An instant later, Dietrich was staring once again at clear night sky. He panned his head upward, the glow of red taillights bathing his surroundings--before abruptly winking out.
  
  A sound like a rapid-fire series of staccato clicks pierced the air, the truck continuing aimlessly forward and stopping as it coasted into a tree with a muffled bang, leaves rustling as the trunk budged abruptly forward. He rose from his flattened position and quickly stalked towards the vehicle, keeping low to the shoulder. Drawing closer, he could smell ozone. And the familiar stench of burnt skin.
  
  He approached the driver's side door, applying a small cylindrical charge to it and standing aside as it emitted a sharp pop and blew the lock, and the door, open. Reaching inside, he'd separate the deceased driver's hands from the wheel with some effort, soon pulling him from the seat and laying him down gingerly in the small ditch the vehicle currently rested in.
  
  The vehicle itself was armored, so the tree it'd hit was more hurt than it was. However, his weapon had fried the electrics. It wasn't moving. It didn't have to. He put the vehicle in neutral and planted his hands on the hood, grunting with exertion as he slowly heaved it back onto the road, getting it under as much open sky as possible, before throwing it back in park and hopping into the driver's seat. He armed a beacon that had been clipped to his chest, and slipped it into the glove compartment. And that was the last of the heavy lifting done. He buckled himself into the seat and settled back. Closing his eyes again to steal some sleep. Hopefully when the bird arrived to pick them up, the acoustic dampening on its engines would be enough not to wake him.