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His interviewer hesitated when David did not take a seat, but then decided that he needed to be in his faux-leather desk chair anyway to type up the profile. After logging into the computer and straightening his thick round glasses firmly on the bridge of his stubby nose, he turned his attention to the refined man standing before him. Clearing his throat, his rodent-like voice proceeded with the interview.
“Ahem. Mr. Da --”
“Doctor David MacBeth.”
“Right. Dr. David MacBeth. Now, To begin this profile, I need to have you life story, though we do not need it to be too detailed. After that, we will get into more about your combat side. So, you can proceed at your leisure. We have until I get off at 6:30 this evening, or about two hours.”
David tossed his head slightly. His shoulder-length auburn hair was so light that he was often mistaken as blonde, but in the warm glow of old incandescent office lights the ruddy hues shown through in the carefully trimmed feathering and layers as they moved. The two emerald pendants glinted in the faint light as they swung from his ears, carefully chosen to perfectly complement his hair. As he began pacing, it became obvious that he had practised his walk, for -- though masculine -- it bore both a dignity and a pride about it that was unmistakably refined, such as would not be unexpected in a Manhattan fashion show. Supple white leather boots made almost no sound as he padded back and forth.
“I was born in the year 1897. My father was a medical man, by profession, but dabbled in a wide variety of sciences. Since we were the torch-bearers of a long line of politicians and bankers, money was never a problem, allowing my father to pursue many side interests at will. I enjoyed the normal life of an only child in a wealthy family, up until the age of 16. By this point in time, I had already been shadowing my father for years in his studies, so it was little wonder that he brought me with him to meet Nicola Tesla.
“Tesla has had many unfair things said about him over time, but the fact that he investigated many more...fringe...studies is quite true. It so happened that while we were there, my father and he decided to test one of his electrical devices designed to warp gravity. Though science did fascinate me, this was one of my less favorite fields, so I had wondered off...apparently into close proximity to the testing area. The test fired without a glitch, and I was far enough away to only be briefly stunned by the electrical discharge.
“I have since realized that it was that experiment which changed me. It, quite simply, warped a bit more than gravity. To go further in this vein would take a great deal of time, so I will leave it with that. I grew into the handsome and successful young man that I am now, studying medicine at John Hopkins. Because I was going into the medical field, I was excused from duty in World War I, which was a blessing at that point in my life. During the roaring twenties, I rose to the top of my field, becoming known as a ‘miracle doctor’ for my ability to bring health and healing to any case I took, no matter how severe or unusual. My parents died in a car accident during this time, as well as an aging great-aunt, leaving me with the entire family fortune.
“I was smart, and converted most of that fortune into various secure forms of investment, such as precious metals, jewels, and burgeoning industries like airplanes, automobiles, and oil. When the Great Depression hit, I was unscathed, and in fact continued to ply my trade and my money to great success. I traveled abroad, learning every language I could, and diverting myself with athletic and scientific endeavors. Hunting was a favorite during that time period, and I learned to be quite a good shot using my father’s Winchester ‘73 One-in-a-thousand. Excellent weapon, that was.
“Well, in addition to one unusual change that happened when I was 16, I also had come to notice that I was not aging. By the time World War II started, I was over forty years old, but looked no more than mid-twenties. In my own evaluations of my health, I was no more than mid-twenties. Unusual, but not unpleasant. Anyhow, since I was young and fit, I decided to take my experimental and cutting-edge medicine to the front lines all over the world. I had no family to worry about -- not to say that I had not enjoyed the company of many women over the years, but just that I did not marry -- and with my money under the management of a loyal financier who happened to be a distant relative, I was worry free.
“War, however, proved to be distinctly unpleasant. It was a gruesome business, and many times I was using my Winchester more than my medic bag. There...there my combat skills began to be honed. Quite often I found myself captured, and used the opportunity to make allies on both sides of the war...a doctor has that benefit of ambiguity of allegiance, you know. I fought in Europe, the Middle East, Africa, Asia, and the Pacific. Everywhere I went, I kept careful notes on what I learned, as well as careful memory of how to keep myself alive. Every time I gained a new patient, I drew from them all the information I could about their job, and how to do it. The conversation got their mind off of their pain, and gave me useful insight. By the end of the war, I knew how to do almost anything in any role, and sometimes did.
“Though World War II ended, it had placed in me a deep love of the thrill of combat. It pushed my knowledge of biology and medicine to its limits, as well as incorporating my love of dangerous and exciting endeavors. I had gained much notoriety for my work and discoveries, as well as medals. For my service in the Pacific -- which included being a pilot for several months -- I was given the P51-D that I flew as a reward. Still use that bird, sometimes.
“Soon I was involved in the Cold War. I engaged myself in every open combat, and used my wealth -- now far more immense than anyone except myself knew -- to work my way into politics as well. My breeding and vast store of knowledge have proven their worth to me, their boon to my friends, and their danger to my enemies. I have since engaged in nearly every conflict I could find, including having just returned from fighting ISIS for a short while. I just moved here because my maneuvering can sometimes bring me into...conflict...with others.”
The HR worker heaved a sigh as David finished his tale, then clicked onto the next section of the registry from. “Now, Doctor, would you tell me why you have decided to join the Rock Hard Gladiator organization?”
David laughed. It was a the sort of sound that seems less a genuine expression and to be manufactured for quality of sound alone. “The same reason I join any conflict. With such wonderful and unparalleled abilities as I possess, there must be some outlet for expression. My clinic alone does not provide such.”
“Uhuh…..I see. Now, what are your combat skills and abilities?”
A condescending smile crept across Dr. MacBeth's face. “There are really only three, perhaps four depending on how you look at it. I would have to list my primary skill as my knowledge of medicine, biology, and chemistry. Though I can work miracles of healing, these skills can be equally lethal in the hands of one so talented as myself. My second set of skills is my knowledge of combat. I excell in various forms. In close combat, I have my own breed of grappling that has proved itself many times. Tactical knives are a must for me, as well -- whether held or thrown, I have razor-edged accuracy. Though I can fire essentially any firearm, the only one I actually own personally is the Winchester I mentioned before hand. I think I have mastered that weapon more than anyone else in history. As for other weapons, I am at least moderately good with everything from pocket-guns to missile launchers, TNT to tanks, plastic explosives to planes. Ancient weaponry is not my thing, but I still make do in that as well, particularly sword-like weapons. Lastly, I have my last and unusual ability -- a state I have dubbed triplexia. What I said you might consider fourth is that I have learned to seamlessly combine all three of this skills, making me powerfully deadly, far out of proportion to what one might presume.”
Once the interviewer finished this, he set down his glasses and turned to face David. “I would like any last notes you have, but first could you clarify about what you call ‘triplexia’?”
David’s nimble fingers flicked the door open, and he took one step through before pausing to answer. “My last note is that my clinic will be specializing in RHG patients. As for the triplexia...we can leave that for my first opponent to discover, can’t we?”
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OOC (Meta) Profile:
Name: Dr. David MacBeth
Age: Over a hundred, but considering he is mid-twenties for all intents and purposes, it doesn’t really matter. He will say he is 27.
Appearance: Looks David stands a little over six feet, with the build of a gymnast. He is far more slender than buff, though finely worked muscles are clearly visible on his unclad body. See beginning of Backstory for a more thorough description.
Sex and Sexuality: Male, and straight.
Height and Build: 6’4” (about two meters) and gymnast-like
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----Military Learning: He’s been in over a dozen wars, and many smaller conflicts. He is functional at literally anything relating to modern military, and is impossible to fluster.
----Combat Skills: He is the consummate master of knives and rifles...particularly his Winchester. Combine that with an unusual but effect grappling technique (think Jiu Jitsu meets mountain-man wrestling meets….angry octopus?)
i
----Supplies: Preparedness is his motto. His ammo/supply options are vast and specifically designed to help him meet any challenge. Cutting edge technological gismos are certainly in his wheelhouse, but not what he prefers to equip, however.
----Reflections:
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----A Little of A Lot: Though he can drive/fly, shoot, launch, or trigger just about anything modern you can think of, that doesn’t mean he can do it with any degree of proficiency. In fact, much of his knowledge in these things is nothing more than what he has memorized from his notes, not even actual experience.
----Limited Weapons: Knives and a rifle are great. But the rifle takes a while to reload (it is a lever-action repeater, but the 20+ cartridges must be loaded one at a time), and the knives are, well, short. Throwing them helps, but knives vs. a katana master will put him in a pickle.
----Limited Supplies: Just like his medical gear, he can only carry so much.
----Reflections:
All of David's Reflections have these similar weaknesses -- namely, they can ONLY be materialized and dematerialized in his line of sight. Secondly, they all put some level of strain on him, varying by different conditions. More is explained in the following spoilers. Thirdly, they can all be killed, and though he can rematerialize them, even a body of a Reflection still puts strain on him and counts as an active Reflection, requiring line of sight to dematerialize (unless it has been completely obliterated by the enemy).
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He carries precisely 2 Tactical knives, both with 3.5 inch blades. He prefers the short blades for their balance in throwing, and their easy concealment.
Within his jacket, he stows his medical supplies: an assortment of small, insulated cases containing anywhere from a few grains to a few milligrams of chemicals, as well as a small case of capsules, syringes, and needles. When necessary, he will carry a briefcase with extra medical supplies, but that must be prepared ahead of time.
His Winchester ‘73 One-of-a-thousand Rifle is something he keeps near at hand, but not always with him. When carrying it, he will keep the rounds for the rifle in his jacket as well. Th