Post by Spooky on Apr 27, 2017 0:43:58 GMT
GENERAL
Ain't no thing like me, 'cept me!
===========
Name: Rocket
Aliases: Raccoon, Ranger Rick, trash panda, vermin, rat, fox, Subject 89P13
Age: 4 years
Species/Race: Alien
Home Universe: Guardians of the Galaxy (MCU)
Dialogue Color: 5296e2
PERSONAL
You know, they told me you people were conceited douchebags, but that isn't true at all! *winks* ... Aw shit, I used my wrong eye again didn't I? I'm sorry, that was meant to be behind your back.
===========
Image:![](http://sm.ign.com/ign_pt/screenshot/default/08_v12b.jpg)
Appearance: A four foot tall, 55 lbs alien who looks remarkably like an earth raccoon. Is covered in grey, brown, black and white fur with black ringed markings on his tail, a 'bandit mask' of black fur around his eyes and small ears. Has black claws, brown eyes and sharp teeth, along with a blue sleeveless (and shoeless) jumpsuit. Under his clothes he has many scars from his implants and the infections that resulted in it, the ones on his shoulders, around his neck and on his back being the most visible.
Personality: Long story short he's a professional asshole (and bounty hunter) with a penchant for heavy weaponry and bombs. An easily irritable, mean, abrasive, foul-mouthed little bastard who acts like a tough big shot to hide his fears and insecurities. He can be bitter, brutally sarcastic and cynical. It doesn't take much to make him angry and he has a kleptomaniac streak. He's assertive, vain and chaotic with has a vicious sense of humor. He prides himself on his abilities and professionalism. He has a high sense of self-preservation and interests, caving to pessimism and panic when involved in situations that are out of his league.
Despite being a jerk to pretty much everyone within eyesight and hearing range of him, Rocket is sort of heroic and enjoys helping people but has a warped view on logic and ethics, especially regarding law. Under the misanthropic attitude and bad hygiene, he's incredibly hardworking, wickedly funny and a genius. Deep down he's incredibly lonely and carries overwhelming pain over the experimentation that was performed on him before he was a mercenary. He isn't used to receiving kindness or someone being gentle with him, and doesn't know how to express that he cares about others without being even slightly jerkish.
Friends: Mantis, Kraglin, Yondu, Nebula
Family: Groot, Peter Quill, Gamora, Drax (While not officially family they're like family to him)
Enemies: Taserface, Ronan, Thanos
Attached NPC(s) Information: None.
Backstory: Subject 89P13 was recovered by some alien scientists and taken to a lab on Halfworld where horrific tests and experiments were done on him. Throughout the extensive genetic and cybernetic rewrites and enhancements to give him full sentient intelligence he began calling himself Rocket and developing the personality you see today. One day he managed to break free and barely escapeed Halfworld with help from another experiment, Lylla, though they only managed to make it out the doors before she died. After that he became a gun slinging mercenary. During a job he ran into the living tree called Groot, who became his friend and partner in bounty hunting.
Eventually their search for employment brought them in Peter Quill's path, and the two tried to capture him. Groot, Rocket, Gamora and Peter were imprisoned by the Nova Corps, but from the minute they entered the courtyard Rocket already had a plan to escape; and it worked. Taking Drax along with them, the five headed to Knowhere to sell a powerful artifact which they found out was an Infinity Stone, which Ronan the Accuser was searching for. In the end they defeated Ronan, secured the stone and started calling themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy. Some months later Guardians of the Galaxy 2 occurs.
FIGHTING
I didn't ask to get made! I didn't ask to be torn apart and put back together over and over again and turned into some little monster!
===========
Powers / Abilities: Despite his small size he's very capable of using things much bigger than he is due to his cybernetic enhancements which grant him unnatural strength. He's an expert marksman and sniper, escape artist, strategist and pilot. Has great creativity and mechanical ingenuity, tactical finesse, leadership skill and an overwhelming willingness to fight dirty. Due to his augmentations, Rocket is capable of surviving damage that would normally be sufficient to kill an animal of his size, can lay out full grown humans with a couple of good punches, and his entire skeletal structure is cybernetic, allowing him to move more like a human and still be as agile as a raccoon. He also has an acute sense of smell, sight, hearing and touch, and sharp claws to climb things (or gouge somebody's eyes out).
Rocket's best ability is his unparalleled genius in mechanics and engineering. He is an expert in handling, creating, modifying and constructing equipment and high-tech weaponry and has a talent for fashioning useful things out of random junk in a time crunch.
Weapons: Favors the use of many different high-technology weapons, especially guns and explosives. He'll use whatever he can find or make himself if the explosives, barrier generator, two blaster pistols and the larger, collapsible gun he has aren't good enough.
Other Items: Various pockets and bags filled with different things, and a wrist-mounted computer he made on Halfworld with Lylla. He also has an aero-rig and a space suit. The aero-rig can be shrunk down into a thick disk on the user's back, can materialize and dematerialize between forms in a similar fashion to Quill's helmet, and functions as a jetpack. It has no altitude limit, allowing a user to fly into space, though they would need proper isolation from it to survive.
Weaknesses:
+ Rocket hates being reminded that he's an animal or being prejudiced against due to his size.
+ There is not a force in the universe that can make him fight fair.
+ As a scientific experiment he doesn't have very good social skills.
+ Afraid of the vulnerabilities that come with a caring relationship and tries to pre-empt that by pushing people away. He's slowly learning to get over that hurdle.
+ Rocket has picked up Peter's love of listening to oldies music from Earth while doing something badass.
OTHER
Groot says "Welcome to the frickin' Guardians of the Galaxy." Except he didn't use frickin'.
============
Canon Point: Post Guardians 2. With a bit of his Telltale background mixed in.
Other Information: None.
Sample Post: Rocket looked his newest customer up and down. Female human, red hair, green eyes and looking pretty beaten up and exhausted despite her savvy looking jacket, tank top, black jeans, boots and the grey duffle bag at her feet. There were ugly black and yellow bruises on her arms along with a couple of healing lacerations. Under the smell of cinnamon and vanilla shampoo, gun oil, shoe shine and titanium alloy was the cloying, subtle sting of antiseptic. Whitey must've visited a hospital before she came here. He noted. His ears twitched as she spoke, a voice that surprisingly didn't waver from how banged up she was, laced with mild confusion. "You're Rocket?"
The alien shrugged his shoulders. "Th' one and only." He answered cooly and brushed his clothes down, trying not to growl as he felt her eyes on him. Sizing him up, or more likely, studying him. The four foot thing covered in fur and metal implants with Halfworld's lovely 'no return' policy didn't exactly blend in too well with the common crowd. Still, a customer was a customer - she hadn't done much to piss him off, so there wasn't much reason to tell her to take a hike. Rocket nodded to the bag when she had opened her mouth to no doubt to say something like 'I thought you'd be taller'. Which, in his experience, usually translated to 'I thought you'd be human'. "What's all that?"
Without fanfare the woman hefted the bag back up, strode past him and set it on his workbench before unzipping the top. Rocket stood on top of his stool to get a better look as his customer pulled items out and set them down carefully; a charcoal colored chestplate, cracked and battered to the point it looked like it could've split it half if someone touched it wrong, along with a damaged helmet. "My armor. I've done what I could myself." She explained as Rocket reached over to carefully examine the damaged chestplate first, his claws picking up the tiniest nicks and dings that wouldn't have been immediately obvious at first glance. "Got the rest to fix, and some weapons. If you want some extra cash..."
"Jeez, what'd you do to this thing?" Rocket mumbled, noting everything he could. Some of the metal looked scorched, tinier bits possibly melted together. Or maybe that was plastic? He made a quiet 'hm' noise as he noticed the fading scent of ozone beneath the other smells. After a few moments he glanced back up at the woman again with a small smirk. "I can do it. It ain't gonna be easy though. Not cheap neither," He told her and turned to lean against the bench's edge. "Double my usual rate, nothin' less unless ya have somethin' to trade with. What'll it be Red?"
Ain't no thing like me, 'cept me!
===========
Name: Rocket
Aliases: Raccoon, Ranger Rick, trash panda, vermin, rat, fox, Subject 89P13
Age: 4 years
Species/Race: Alien
Home Universe: Guardians of the Galaxy (MCU)
Dialogue Color: 5296e2
PERSONAL
You know, they told me you people were conceited douchebags, but that isn't true at all! *winks* ... Aw shit, I used my wrong eye again didn't I? I'm sorry, that was meant to be behind your back.
===========
Image:
![](http://sm.ign.com/ign_pt/screenshot/default/08_v12b.jpg)
Appearance: A four foot tall, 55 lbs alien who looks remarkably like an earth raccoon. Is covered in grey, brown, black and white fur with black ringed markings on his tail, a 'bandit mask' of black fur around his eyes and small ears. Has black claws, brown eyes and sharp teeth, along with a blue sleeveless (and shoeless) jumpsuit. Under his clothes he has many scars from his implants and the infections that resulted in it, the ones on his shoulders, around his neck and on his back being the most visible.
Personality: Long story short he's a professional asshole (and bounty hunter) with a penchant for heavy weaponry and bombs. An easily irritable, mean, abrasive, foul-mouthed little bastard who acts like a tough big shot to hide his fears and insecurities. He can be bitter, brutally sarcastic and cynical. It doesn't take much to make him angry and he has a kleptomaniac streak. He's assertive, vain and chaotic with has a vicious sense of humor. He prides himself on his abilities and professionalism. He has a high sense of self-preservation and interests, caving to pessimism and panic when involved in situations that are out of his league.
Despite being a jerk to pretty much everyone within eyesight and hearing range of him, Rocket is sort of heroic and enjoys helping people but has a warped view on logic and ethics, especially regarding law. Under the misanthropic attitude and bad hygiene, he's incredibly hardworking, wickedly funny and a genius. Deep down he's incredibly lonely and carries overwhelming pain over the experimentation that was performed on him before he was a mercenary. He isn't used to receiving kindness or someone being gentle with him, and doesn't know how to express that he cares about others without being even slightly jerkish.
Friends: Mantis, Kraglin, Yondu, Nebula
Family: Groot, Peter Quill, Gamora, Drax (While not officially family they're like family to him)
Enemies: Taserface, Ronan, Thanos
Attached NPC(s) Information: None.
Backstory: Subject 89P13 was recovered by some alien scientists and taken to a lab on Halfworld where horrific tests and experiments were done on him. Throughout the extensive genetic and cybernetic rewrites and enhancements to give him full sentient intelligence he began calling himself Rocket and developing the personality you see today. One day he managed to break free and barely escapeed Halfworld with help from another experiment, Lylla, though they only managed to make it out the doors before she died. After that he became a gun slinging mercenary. During a job he ran into the living tree called Groot, who became his friend and partner in bounty hunting.
Eventually their search for employment brought them in Peter Quill's path, and the two tried to capture him. Groot, Rocket, Gamora and Peter were imprisoned by the Nova Corps, but from the minute they entered the courtyard Rocket already had a plan to escape; and it worked. Taking Drax along with them, the five headed to Knowhere to sell a powerful artifact which they found out was an Infinity Stone, which Ronan the Accuser was searching for. In the end they defeated Ronan, secured the stone and started calling themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy. Some months later Guardians of the Galaxy 2 occurs.
FIGHTING
I didn't ask to get made! I didn't ask to be torn apart and put back together over and over again and turned into some little monster!
===========
Powers / Abilities: Despite his small size he's very capable of using things much bigger than he is due to his cybernetic enhancements which grant him unnatural strength. He's an expert marksman and sniper, escape artist, strategist and pilot. Has great creativity and mechanical ingenuity, tactical finesse, leadership skill and an overwhelming willingness to fight dirty. Due to his augmentations, Rocket is capable of surviving damage that would normally be sufficient to kill an animal of his size, can lay out full grown humans with a couple of good punches, and his entire skeletal structure is cybernetic, allowing him to move more like a human and still be as agile as a raccoon. He also has an acute sense of smell, sight, hearing and touch, and sharp claws to climb things (or gouge somebody's eyes out).
Rocket's best ability is his unparalleled genius in mechanics and engineering. He is an expert in handling, creating, modifying and constructing equipment and high-tech weaponry and has a talent for fashioning useful things out of random junk in a time crunch.
Weapons: Favors the use of many different high-technology weapons, especially guns and explosives. He'll use whatever he can find or make himself if the explosives, barrier generator, two blaster pistols and the larger, collapsible gun he has aren't good enough.
Other Items: Various pockets and bags filled with different things, and a wrist-mounted computer he made on Halfworld with Lylla. He also has an aero-rig and a space suit. The aero-rig can be shrunk down into a thick disk on the user's back, can materialize and dematerialize between forms in a similar fashion to Quill's helmet, and functions as a jetpack. It has no altitude limit, allowing a user to fly into space, though they would need proper isolation from it to survive.
Weaknesses:
+ Rocket hates being reminded that he's an animal or being prejudiced against due to his size.
+ There is not a force in the universe that can make him fight fair.
+ As a scientific experiment he doesn't have very good social skills.
+ Afraid of the vulnerabilities that come with a caring relationship and tries to pre-empt that by pushing people away. He's slowly learning to get over that hurdle.
+ Rocket has picked up Peter's love of listening to oldies music from Earth while doing something badass.
OTHER
Groot says "Welcome to the frickin' Guardians of the Galaxy." Except he didn't use frickin'.
============
Canon Point: Post Guardians 2. With a bit of his Telltale background mixed in.
Other Information: None.
Sample Post: Rocket looked his newest customer up and down. Female human, red hair, green eyes and looking pretty beaten up and exhausted despite her savvy looking jacket, tank top, black jeans, boots and the grey duffle bag at her feet. There were ugly black and yellow bruises on her arms along with a couple of healing lacerations. Under the smell of cinnamon and vanilla shampoo, gun oil, shoe shine and titanium alloy was the cloying, subtle sting of antiseptic. Whitey must've visited a hospital before she came here. He noted. His ears twitched as she spoke, a voice that surprisingly didn't waver from how banged up she was, laced with mild confusion. "You're Rocket?"
The alien shrugged his shoulders. "Th' one and only." He answered cooly and brushed his clothes down, trying not to growl as he felt her eyes on him. Sizing him up, or more likely, studying him. The four foot thing covered in fur and metal implants with Halfworld's lovely 'no return' policy didn't exactly blend in too well with the common crowd. Still, a customer was a customer - she hadn't done much to piss him off, so there wasn't much reason to tell her to take a hike. Rocket nodded to the bag when she had opened her mouth to no doubt to say something like 'I thought you'd be taller'. Which, in his experience, usually translated to 'I thought you'd be human'. "What's all that?"
Without fanfare the woman hefted the bag back up, strode past him and set it on his workbench before unzipping the top. Rocket stood on top of his stool to get a better look as his customer pulled items out and set them down carefully; a charcoal colored chestplate, cracked and battered to the point it looked like it could've split it half if someone touched it wrong, along with a damaged helmet. "My armor. I've done what I could myself." She explained as Rocket reached over to carefully examine the damaged chestplate first, his claws picking up the tiniest nicks and dings that wouldn't have been immediately obvious at first glance. "Got the rest to fix, and some weapons. If you want some extra cash..."
"Jeez, what'd you do to this thing?" Rocket mumbled, noting everything he could. Some of the metal looked scorched, tinier bits possibly melted together. Or maybe that was plastic? He made a quiet 'hm' noise as he noticed the fading scent of ozone beneath the other smells. After a few moments he glanced back up at the woman again with a small smirk. "I can do it. It ain't gonna be easy though. Not cheap neither," He told her and turned to lean against the bench's edge. "Double my usual rate, nothin' less unless ya have somethin' to trade with. What'll it be Red?"