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[Rated M-for possible mature content]


We don't exist. Not one of us does. We have no past, no family, no hometown to call our own. We don't exist. We have no birth date, no social security number, no finger prints. We don't exist. We were born, raised, and we will die in this job. Our only recognition will be a grave marker with our names on them.

We don't exist...


After the year 2030 AD, the world began to advance quicker than anyone fathomed to be possible. Science over took everything, imagination and creative thinking out weighed logic, and mankind was given wings. But with all of these wonderful advancements in science, a new problem in the world came to the surface: we were soon to become a world divided. The world split into four power giants who were all notorious for their own advancements.


Russia claimed power first when they began to release man-made monsters similar to the ones from our darkest nightmares. Despite their wild demeanor, they knew loyalty to their creators and them alone. Monsters that seemed nearly indestructible became the hounds waiting at Russia's doorstep. They proved to be the wild card, and despite their loyalty to the Russian military, to the rest of the world, these hulking monstrosities were mindless, bloodthirsty, and feral.


Germany entered the fray while keeping to their roots in technology. Machines became the way of the future long ago, but these machines could be fashioned into automated soldiers, war machines that could fight alongside their military and lead them to victory. These mechanical monsters were made to be hellbent on war and became more powerful than anything their prisoners were banking on.


East Asia surprised us further still with finding, unlocking, and harnessing the hidden potential in humans, allowing them to use the power of magic to protect their lands as well as become a major threat to the rest of the land. With no basis or necessary limits on what their magic could do, their opposition would be forced to have to take the most caution while dealing with them.


In North America came an even greater surprise. The U.S. joined with the generally neutral Canada, opening the market to weapons. The weapons they were making were nothing that you would necessarily take to any shooting range, but they would be able to take down anything that a normal, unarmed human wouldn't be able to face alone. Due to the...questionable...fashion of these weapons, they had created an underground black market to distribute their weapons to the highest bidder.


These four power giants became known as "The Four Horsemen" of the century, plunging our world into darkness...


...Where we were born to become the light.


We too joined the power struggle, but not for the same reasons. We don't desire power. We don't desire control. What we want is to fight for the people of the world. What we want is peace. We were born out of the darkness to rekindle the light and allow it to grow. We are the hunters and huntresses of UFO. The Unidentified Fighting Organization.


Whenever things get out of control between The Four Horsemen, we're sent to restore the peace and protect the citizens. Once the towns are liberated, we disappear, leaving no sign we were ever there.

We don't exist.

We have no real names.

We have no history or past.

No one knows we do the jobs we do.

And we're the best at what we do.


Welcome to UFO. As unnamed defenders of the peace, we are given names that suit us by our combat styles, technique, special skills, or anything else that stands out about us. We are the UFOs(Unidentified Fighting Operatives)

Name: (It can be an actual name so long as it is one given to you, otherwise, keep it simple but meaningful)
Age: (16-29. We're brought into the organization young but complete our training in our mid-teens. If you want to be older/younger than the limits I placed, just PM me. I'm reasonable)
Appearance: (Detailed description or an image please)
Equipment: (Each of us is given or has created their own specialty weapon. Go into as much or as little detail of their capabilities.)
Skills: (What is your skill set? Hacking, hand-to-hand combat, demolition, vehicle operations, infiltration, arcane knowledge, etc. Try giving a little detail)
Snippet: (Since we don't have a background before our teenage years, just give some insight on your character in the time they've been in UFO. A paragraph at minimum please.) Edited by Kayin Cloud

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Name: Allura (Aka Gamble)

Age: 28

Appearance: See attachment 

Equipment: She carries a leather pouch that has her own unique weapon that she forged her self with in it. The pouch hides a deck of poker cards that are made of thin steel and sharpened to razor edges along the whole of the card. Even though made of steel these cards look like the real things, the deck containing all of the suites and all the numbers, kings, queens and jacks as well. 

Skills: She is well adept at throw weapons, having uncanny aim with her cards but it a pinch she is also well trained in hand to hand though she prefers kick boxing to actual hand to hand fighting. 

Snippet: Allura sat at a small table on her own, she enjoyed the quiet and the solitude most of the time; her face set in the same stern expression as usual she tilted her chin upward as the intercom above her head sounded off. It called for her and a few others, no doubt to go and put an end to something haven gotten out of hand by one of the Four Horsemen. Sighing she pushed away from the table and walked out of the cafeteria, her hands sliding into her jeans pocket as she moved seemingly on auto pilot. Her boots made no noise as she walked the hall at her own pace, a few men and women rushing around her as another team was called, no doubt for something else having gotten out of hand. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and continued walking. Reaching the main office she stepped in seeing the rest of the people she usually worked with, saying nothing she took a spot in the back as they were given their orders. More war machines from Germany wreaking havoc on a few towns, no shock there. Tapping the toe of her boot on the floor she looked around, most of the people in this place didnâ??t even remember their real names, the few that did rarely used them. Very few people knew her real name, and fewer still used it. She looked up as the man giving out the orders called her.

â??Gamble, youâ??ll be going on this one. Is that clear.â?

She nodded knowing there was no point in saying otherwise, no one cared if you were comfortable with the orders you were given, you did them without question and without fail. She turned and walked out of the conference room, the others doing much the same; not saying anything they separated and went back to their rooms to suit up and get ready, a small time span of 10 minutes was always given before a mission to gear up. Going to her room she grabbed her thin strapped jacket, pulling it over her vest  she felt it drape down and hit the backs of her ankles, pulling her leather pouch from her desk she strapped it to her leg. Opening another drawer she pulled out a felt cloth and opened it slowly, grabbing her Kevlar gloves she slipped them on leaving only the tips of her fingers exposed she reached down and carefully picked up her weapon. No one else had anything close to it in the entire UFO base, she had forged and designed it herself making it that much more unique, much like many of the people at UFO did. It was part of the process, you learn about the world, learn to fight, learn to follow orders, design your weapon, forge it, pass the test and then after years your turned into a member of UFO.
Looking over the playing cards turned weapon she ran her finger along the edge of one and nodded to herself as it sliced her finger clean, blood dripping from it slowly. The cards were designed to look exactly like a deck of playing cards, each suit, every number, even the jokers; but they were made of strong, thin, light weight steel and sharpened on all sides making them deadly when thrown with accuracy and precision, both she had. Holding the deck together she slipped it snugly into the leather pouch on her leg, grabbing her sunglasses she pulled the mass of her hair back, grabbing her long sides one by one she wrapped them around the bulk of her hair and tied it off into a pony tail. Checking to make sure she had everything she needed she left the room and walked through the halls til she reached the garage. She sighed somewhat, even with all the advancements in science and technology the vehicles remained the same.  Possible due to the Four Horsemen using all the science and technology to create weapons and cause chaos in the world instead of advancing it. She looked around the garage to see what vehicles were left and chose a motorcycle parked in the corner, she could see a few other members of her â??teamâ?? pile into a convertible, and another hop into a corvette. Engines came to life as they all started the machines they picked waiting for the signal to start their mission, watching as the light in the garage slowly shifted from red to yellow. Engines revved and roars as the impatience of the men and women grew. Allura pulled her sunglasses over her eyes, pushing a small button on the side to activate a colored night vision setting. They slowly made their way over to the garage doors, and as the light shifted down to green the doors flew open allowing them out onto the street. Allura felt her hair whip back over her shoulder as she kicked the bike into gear and set it into motion. The member known as Beat whipping the corvette onto the street next to her before she pulled ahead of him. It wasnâ??t a long ride and she knew it would be an easy mission, Germany always was, their bulky machines making large easy targets. It would be over quicker then it started and they would return home without the world ever knowing they had been there. Thatâ??s how it always was, strike quickly, and quietly, never be noticed and leave before anyone could find out what had happened.
They didnâ??t exist.
They werenâ??t supposed to have names.
None of them remembered their families.
They simply didnâ??t exist.
Thatâ??s how UFO had always been, and how they always would be. Secret, safe, and for the people. 

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Name: T.J. aka "Tempo"
 

Age: 25
 

Appearance: Tempo
 

Equipment: Tempo created his own weapon suitable for his fighting style: The Nova Gloves and Boots. These reinforced boots and gloves are armored enough to allow Tempo to punch through the hull of a ship with little reprucussive damage. On top of which, they are equipped with internal generators that are powered by the number of blows thrown with each one. Given enough power, T.J. can use them to generate searing heat or even electricity. The energy can be discharged in a one-shot projectile once powered enough, though it depletes the generators in all of the units.
 

Skills: Tempo is a hand-to-hand specialist as well as being very tech-savvy. While not a complete hacker, he did single-handedly engineer the design for his Nova Gloves and Boots. While being small in size may have their disadvantages, he takes every advantage of his height when he can.

 

Snippet: "From shaaadooooows weeee'll deeeeescend upon the world, take back what you stoole-" Tempo sang to himself quietly as he regulated his breathing with each blow, striking to the beat of the song in his headphones. He bounded from the floor, slamming his left knee into the robot's center before landing a solid right kick to send the machine sliding sideways across the ground despite it raising its arms to defend itself. Tempo could be heard singing the same song as he hit the ground running after the bot as it rose to its feet and opened fire on Tempo. Lowering his body, he bounded forward with an explosive force from his boots over the incoming fire before coming down like a meteor on the machine with his right fist. The war machine managed to avoid taking unsustainable damage and tried to get up to move from the young man's offensive by discharging electricity from its body. Unfortunately, it backfired as an overheated knuckle punched clear through the mechanical body. Tempo withdrew his hand, shaking the heat from his fist. His other hand reached up to press pause on his headphones, lowering them to rest on his collar.

 

"Nicely done, T.J. Maybe you ought to try saving some of the training bots for the rest of us next time though, huh?" a brown haired man chuckled as he walked into the simulation room, seeing the training machines scattered about in pieces. "You know it helps when you leave enough parts to salvage, right?" he added with a smirk.

 

"Listen, Hunter... You and I both know these bots are recycled into new and stronger training machines based off of gathering information from their defeat. If they can't adjust to my fighting style transitioning, they'd better make some better observations in the lab. Otherwise, it's just showing that my style of fighting is effective enough to not be predicted," Tempo replied, shaking his head.

 

"Yeah, but you'd think they'd figure it out with all of those oldies you listen to," Hunter laughed.

 

"Think you can read it then?" T.J. looked at Hunter with a challenging glance. Hunter shook his head with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, Hunter, you're as skilled at close quarters as I am with your streetfighting. Why do you continue refusing to spar with me?"

 

Hunter scratched the back of his head with a grin. "Well, you see, if we got into it, there's a good chance one of us would wind up knocked out and they might need us on a mission so...er...yeah..."

 

T.J. stared at Hunter blankly for a while. "Either you're scared you'll beat me or scared that you'll lose. Having a hard time figuring out which it is right n-"

 

"Attention UFO operatives: New mission is being assigned. If you are summoned, report to the director's office immediately. Tempo-" blared over the intercom, interrupting T.J.

 

"Gotta jet. Don't think you're out of the woods yet," T.J. said as he slipped his headphones on before taking off toward the director's office to be briefed on his mission.

Edited by Kayin Cloud

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Name: Metal Smoke, commonly refered to as Metal.

 

Age: 19
 

Appearance: [attachment=15388:595994117092151.jpg]
 

Equipment: Nanite Cloud. Smoke followed the practice of most UFO members and crafted his own weapon, nicknamed Smoke. Which part of how he earned his name, the other being a cigarette that he is constantly seen smoking. Smoke is a cloud of nanites that keep him in top physical condition. They also allow him to complete his jobs easier, as they can do practically anything from hack a German Warbot to become tools he uses to repair the vehicles used by the teams. When not in use, they condense themselves into piercings, which are in various places all over his body.
 

Skills: Hacking and Vehicle Operations. He was originally trained for the operation, maintenance and upgrading of UFO's transport fleet. It was because of this that he trained in computer engineering, quickly mastering that as well, allowing g him to create Smoke.
 

Snippet: Metal lay on his bed, resting before he was called on a mission. He was always called on a mission, since Smoke came in handy with any quick repairs or minor healing. -wonder who's going to be the Horseman that screwed up today- he thought as he stretched and sat up slowly. After standing up and  stretching some more, he suddenly dropped to the ground and began doing pushups from where he caught himself. Completing 50 repetitions, he rolled backwards and pushed himself up into a handstand before he stood on his feet again. He then headed to the shower. He stood in the hot water, letting the heat seep into his skin as he tried and failed to remember anything of his childhood, his parents. Nothing. He lashed out in frustration, leaving a fist sized dent in the ceramic tiles that lined the bathroom wall. He barely registered the pain or the blood that ran down his fingers to drop onto the wet floor, only to be washed down the drain.-just like my memory- he thought harshly. He wished he could cry about his lost memories, but years of solitude and heavy training prevented him. He heaved a tired sigh and turned off the water. He walked back into his room, his towel still hanging where he put it when he was given this room. He glanced at the clock on the desk. 0100 it read. LTime to head to the garage then" he said as he made.his way across. the sparsely furnished room to the wardrobe, the only piece of furniture that held any ties to an attempt at showing anything besides utilitarian style decor. He pulled out the only outfit he owned: a pair of black leather pants and a black mesh tank. They were promptly thrown on the bed, followed by the black combat boots and fingerless bike gloves. Having that taken care of, he headed over to the desk ans began fitting the series of piercings sitting on the top next to a laptop, his only means of communication outside the base. His morning ritual over with, he began dressing, going his normal commando style, and headed out the door when he was finished.

Edited by Nyxian

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