pryongreed

[pryongreed]

🚀- "I wouldn't turn it down if you did help me." Sutton's expression softened, granting himself permission to let the unwarranted feeling of losing a vital part of his operant normal be curbed. He deeply inhaled to ease the tension that felt like a nuclear meltdown from consuming himself and Walter. Harbinger. The intake of air swells his broadness. Sutton softly hummed as he extended a fellow agent a hand to shake. But he wondered if it was a careless mistake. Some people didn't want to touch others. And some couldn't. He awkwardly laughed as he looked between his hand and the other; considering if it should be withdrawn. "Pyron. Don't be confused if you hear some people call me BoomBoom." He'd explain but the fun was in the guessing.

"I--don't mean to cause others distress. I just get in my head 'bout stuff like this." He doesn't explain it. He does know about oversharing and worries about being that agent. He looked down at the cup and questioned it for a second, before drawing a response. "I was havin' a light meal. I'm assumin' that's where I was last but I could'a been distracted." It was nice to have a calmer presence beside him. It stabilized the sporadic energy of his current state. He chose to stuff his empty hand into his back pocket.

Confusion. At least, that’s what it felt like to him witnessing the scene with his own eyes, head tilting to the side, not with a morbid curiosity but a degree of… concern. Walter understood part of it. The base they were all on was rather huge and it was quite easy for someone to get lost if they were not careful. The same had happened to him after he came out of his… it did not matter. All it took was time and maybe a kind soul that was willing to provide some modicum of assistance. Which he could. He still remembered how it felt to walk around without a direction in mind, feeling confused and overall lost when everything looked the exact same thing no matter where he looked.

”Do you need help?” His first instinct is to reach out to make sure the other man is ok. For a moment – he forgets that he still has his gloves on and quickly retracts his arm, choosing to just take a step closer but keep his hands to himself. No danger would come to others as long as his gloves were on. No danger would come to others as long as his gloves were on. A mantra repeated time and time again. His heart was once again beating steady rather than at an erratic pace. “I’m Walter – Harbinger.” He offered the other man a polite smile. It was hard to memorize faces when he did his best to avoid almost everyone, scared of hurting them in some way. “Do you require help searching for your memo pad? Where did you come from? Maybe you left it unattended for a minute or two. I’m sure it will still be the same place where you left it.”

[pryongreed]

🚀- "I I'm not?" Sutton hadn't heard those words in quite a bit of time. So; the more he dwelled on the complex and varying intricacies of his current condition, the more it began to chip away at his usual relaxed demeanor. The thumb of his idle hand began to pick at an absent cleave of skin. He shoves his hand into his pocket, avoiding discovery of his distress. He didn't like when people worried about him or even placed himself at the center of all-the-drama. His eyes shift from Luiz to the walls. They were so flat that he soon trekked to the ceiling. Eventually his shoes. He stirred absently as he turned in the opposite direction and began his pursuit.

He mumbled low to remind himself why they were going back toward the restaurant.

"Did I get injured?" He questioned as if Luiz had been on the same recovery mission. Sutton inhaled once and eyes immediately jot in a singular line toward the agent. Of course not. He stifled an awkwardly placed laugh that escaped through the nose and closed mouth. "I Sorry. ..Sorry." He'd apologize. "I just get turned around sometimes. It's the short-term memory that gets me."

"You okay, big guy?" The other agent's movements were rather frantic. Luiz was worried he'd had a meltdown right there and he didn't think he was equipped to deal with such things. He only just got out of his room to head to the restaurant for a meal. He'd been buried in his piles of books and, as usual, he lost track of time, only for a bit. Living in an isolated quarter tended to dull one's perception of time. Even after years of being an agent, it still happened to him. Then he came across another agent--big, tall, and burly--looking around with a cup in his hands, absolutely lost, as Luiz said so himself.

He got it, the base was a huge place. The first few times Luiz tried to venture around by himself, he ended up in places he didn't know existed. "You're not okay," Luiz concluded, "and, no, I didn't. Sorry. I just got out of the lift." He made a gesture towards the lift behind him. "I'll help you look for it. Pyron, right? Where were you before you went here? The restaurant?" Luiz peered behind Pyron's broad shoulders to the corridor that led to the restaurant. "Maybe you left it there? Let's go check it out."

[pryongreed]

starting point: level 06 (corridor between restaurant and the arcade)

🚀- "Nah. I ain't lost. I just came fro--..." The certainty in his eyes faded as he looked down at the sealed cup. He knew how to seek cues from particular articles about his person. Whether it was a piece of ribbon or a set of concise instructions scratched into a pad. He groaned, obviously perturbed by his lack of direction. Frustration didn't make it easy. In fact, it was probably only exacerbating the situation. He paused a moment to awkwardly laugh.

As if it were to ease the tension.

"I ...," He pats his chest as if he had a breast pocket. The pats eased down his obliques and eventually his hips. No avail. The stack of sticky notes is gone. Idle steps; in this singular spot, twirled him about like a twister. The sloshing of ice rattled. The thick soles of his boots clonked about. It was; truly, a scene to see the agent bound by his own lack of awareness. He'd frantically searched for them. Maybe he dropped them.? "Okay...maybe a little." The horrible attempt to lie and mask his vexation crumbled in an instant. "Have you seen a little memo pad? I marked three corners so I knew they were mine. I..need them."

[pryongreed]

🚀 - "Ain't really much of an idea of fun but I'm just tinkerin'." Sutton froze. His eyes steadied on Cyrus but it was as if he was being scolded or guilty of wrongdoing. His eyes widened as they roamed the library. His empty hand; wrapped in a set of gloves - one latex and the other a woven material, was an act of preserving the condition of the book. In his other hand was a wrench and the artistic decoration of motor oil. One could assume he was working on an engine part. But what vehicle? Was it even PANDORA property?

"It's...uh..." The boyish antics soon became a revelation of confusion as the piece of information failed to be recalled. Usually, Sutton would cheat by looking down at a device. "I really couldn't tell you. It was...Sunday...yesterday. So it gotta be Monday. How long you been droolin' in here all over the desk?" Heartily chuckled. "No. Today is Friday. I scribbled it on the inside of my arm." Reveals his cheat sheet after he took a peek.

[ location : library of alexandria ] [ open to : everyone ]

cyrus had been deep in the books this week, tracking down another ancestral line of occultism that had been denied the attention it deserved. he was determined to rectify that injustice, but was now risking burnout chasing his own tail too far down the rabbit hole without coming up for air.

"what ti--..day is it, even?" thursday evenings still rang bells of rest and relaxation for him, always a good time to get out of the books and into the cups. he wandered away from his table of study toward the nearest open door, wanting a breath of fresh anything else.

"hey, were you on your way to do something fun by any chance?"

[pryongreed]

[  michael b jordan,  questioning,  cis male +  he/him,  thermochemical energy field manipulation  ]  sutton garrettson  is  a  neutral good  agent  of  pandora  selected  for  their  piloting skills before his family’s legacy serving the u.s. air force and elevating the benchmarks to recruit top class airmen  that  made  them  an  ideal  candidate  and  underwent  the  top-secret  mutation  process.  to  the  rest  of  the  world,  the thirty-eight year  old  originally  from  fort morgan, alabama  is  deceased  or  missing.  however,  in  atlantis,  they  are  now  known  as  pyron  of  greed  after  developing  the  ability  to  bodily generate thermo-chemical energy and release it from his skin that can be used as thrust to cause his body to be propelled at great heights and speeds with considerable maneuverability and direction .  the  agent  has  been  with  pandora  for twelve years and  is  trusted  for  being  daring  &  devoted ,  but  once  reprimanded  for  being  forgetful &  fuzzily.

As he recollects the events of his life, he often remembers that his personal mission is to make sure that everything he does is to the highest degree and all of his effort. His life didn't start as lavish if you will. He had his first memories with local planes. His first love. Every day he'd come from school, just to do what he could to get the beauty in pristine shape. When he didn't have to tend to their oyster farm, he'd volunteer at the local airport hangers. And it was all up from there. His high school days were JROTC and drills. Weekends were composed of manning their booth at the local farmer's market where the girls all seemed to take a liking and their parents' pockets always seemed to be available for his sweet charm. The oysters were great, too.

He'd eventually follow his father and uncle's footsteps. Sometimes blind devotion and ignorant bliss are a blessing. The military came knocking. He ultimately chose the Air Force. Six years, several records set, and decoration seemed to bring many interests to his door. With his future set, he'd initially ignore the offer from Project PANDORA. But they drove a hard bargain. With his family set, he'd agree to the pretty picture they created for him. How do you simply ignore the massive, pink bow on top? Twenty years passed him by. Often memorized by the tracing of battle scars and the memory of nearly losing an eye from missions gone rogue. Or sometimes suffering from short-term memory loss.

THE BREAKDOWN

NICKNAME: BoomBoom CALLSIGN: Pyron MORAL ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral DIVISION: Greed TENURE: 12yrs ALT GROUP: Mechanic/Pilot FORMER OCCUPATION: Airman HOMETOWN: Fort Morgan, Alabama AGE: 38yrs GENDER: Cisgendered Male MARITAL STATUS: Single SEXUALITY: Questioning ROMANTIC: Questioning HEIGHT: 6ft 1in (1.85m) ARCHETYPE: Mesomorphic HAIR COLOR: Black HAIRSTYLE: Variable (Example of his common style here) IRIS COLOR: Honey Brown FACIAL HAIR: Example here NOTABLE FEATURES: he has a scar on the left side of his face that spans from his brow bone to the apex of his cheekbone. his body temperature ranges from 120 to 130 degrees ( 48.9 - 54.4 celsius ) but normal body function can continue at human baseline. MORALITY: (Lawful Neutral) Pyron (or BoomBoom) usually tries to stay within the perimeters of doing what is morally just by following regulation, honor, law, and/or belief. He prioritizes and prefers giving a chance to do better but recognizes that "chance" could potentially allow deflecting from the correct path.

WHY PANDORA: Service. A chance to protect on a broader spectrum. Maybe he didn't listen to their pitch when they offered him a place in the ranks. Or perhaps he was following that blind devotion, again. He saw a chance to provide for his family. It's hard to forget all the agents who didn't make it this far and some new prospects with so much ahead of them.

NOTE: Pyron does suffer from short-term memory loss. He has learned strategies to cope with it. While these many habits work, there are times that he can not prevent them from happening. You may see him scribble, read, and repeat small things to himself. He does wear a pair of modified goggles with digital notes within a HUD- just in case. During the first few years of his service, his peers could hear the explosive forces of his energy fields detonating which was followed by a second explosion if he used more energy to accelerate. Thus, he was nicknamed "BoomBoom".

MUTATION: Thermochemical Energy Field Manipulation. Pyron's mutation allows him to release thermokinetic energy fields from chemical reactions and expel it from skin/body. This was originally only able to be controlled by a singular propulsion (like a rocket). With training, he's learned to refine the amount of energy and force/energy it releases. His propulsion range varies as he can sustain a simple hover or exceed speeds that challenge most recording/observable media. He has learned to extend the field to increase his durability. Concentration allowed him to push his field to any object within his grasp. Through strength training, he has learned to use it offensively and reject the immediate propulsion forces. Recently, he has learned to detonate the field around him to appear as if he's self-immolating. Though it's not fire, it can create immense degrees of heat that it controls with the amount of energy produced. Though he can not blast objects, he has generated a field hot enough to slice through steel and melt rock.

DIVISON SKILLS: Vehicular Operations and Perception EXPERTISE IN: Marksmanship PROFICIENT AT: Acrobatics & Evasion, Athletics, Battlefield Endurance, Brute Force, & Pain Tolerance SUBSTANDARD AT: Deception & Seduction