From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
|Player: Admiral Duskgear|
|Occupation:||Technology supplier, presumed smuggler|
|Place of Birth:||Confidential|
|Base of Operations:||KMS Solomon|
|Robotic minions, field-generator technology, high-tech weaponry|
|Flight, material-scanning, high tech-aptitude, field manipulation|
|Energy rifle. energy pistol, HUD, integrated armor, unknown technology|
|No additional information available.|
Once a high-ranking officer in the Kriegsmarine, his life was changed forever when his ship, the KMS Solomon, encountered an ancient pyramid floating above the waves. None but the Admiral know what transpired there, but he left that place with a new name, a robotic crew, and secrets best left forgotten.
The Admiral is a patient man, but do not test him. He is fairly giving with his trust and expects the same in return, but he is proud, and does not take insults or failure well, and betrayal even worse. The only guarantee is that he'll give you at least one chance. Don't expect a second one. He is not above working with those he dislikes- it's something he does on a regular basis- but he is rather hard-set in his beliefs. He knows better than to be open about them in this day and age though, and propaganda was never his strong point anyway. He is quite fond of experimental technology, although he finds countermeasures distasteful. When it comes to combat his views are slightly scattered, espousing contradicting methods as supreme and believing in them equally despite their differences. The common thread, however, is brutality, overwhelming force, be it an 800mm cannon shell, a salvo of torpedoes, or a near-suicidal ramming plane. Tread lightly, but don't be afraid. You'll know when you should be afraid.
Duskgear is a very small man, normally proportioned but about waist-height for an average person (not including his cap). His hair and beard are neatly trimmed, and seem to be naturally purple somehow. When in hazardous environments the majority of his body is encased by a tech-suit, circuits glowing with unknown energies. His coat is in good condition but its age shows. He carries himself with the posture and self-control that one would expect from a high-ranking naval officer, but a tired bitterness shows in his actions.
Powers, Abilities, and Equipment
Admiral Duskgear has an array of technological wonders which he employs in his schemes.
His bodysuit provides the platform for many of these, as well as a number of other functions. It is bulletproof, waterproof, and capable of minor medical aid and flight. It does not seem to augment his strength, but it does enable him to move as fast as a person much larger than him. Some form of trans-dimensional storage has been confirmed. The power supply is unknown. An alternative version of the suit has been confirmed, which he uses in particularly dangerous situations. It is bulkier and all-encompassing, although any enhanced capabilities are unknown.
The Admiral's weapon of choice is a custom built energy rifle, with which he is fond of executing helpless foes. It has several firing modes, with drastically different effects.(aka other ranged attack powers). When in more relaxed or neutral locations such as the D or a friendly base he relies upon a compact pistol version, just in case.
Admiral Duskgear is adept at manipulating energy of an unknown source into barriers of various kinds. They allow him to protect himself and his minions from harm, as well as providing very crude kinesis. Several other field-types have been speculated on, including communications jamming and electro-repression, none of which have been confirmed.
The Admiral himself is neither resilient nor powerful- he's just a human with a fancy suit. The Admiral is never truly by himself though, as a deadly robotic strike team is never more than a few seconds away. Kept in standby aboard the KMS Solomon, they can be deployed within a minute via specialized cannon shells. These bots are neither elegant nor subtle; they are hulking monstrosities, swathed in armor plating and hefting armaments that would not be out of place on a tank.
The KMS Solomon
The Admirals' ship, in which he makes his base of operations. Its origins are unknown, and its profile does not match any known classification. As yet, the only confirmed armaments are the cannons on deck. The ship itself is old and worn, save for the threads of glowing circuitry and unknown high-technology. It is unmanned in the sense that apart from the Admiral himself, all of the functions of a normal crew are carried out by various automatons, presumably constructed for this purpose by Admiral Duskgear himself. Rumors that it is submersible are unconfirmed.
The 5th Column and Council
While one would suspect friendship or cooperation between these groups and the Admiral, bringing up the subject is a good way to hear him rant and rave about how those "treacherous dogs" and "stinking rat-bastards" have slighted him in a thousand ways, real and imagined. From his view the Column stole his funding, failed his country and then deserted and betrayed it when it was needed the most. The Council is little better, but at least they don't claim a common goal. This attitude pervades many of his dealings, and is rather apparent to those who know him. He will leave no insult or injury unpunished, but he is patient enough to wait. After all, he has all the time in the worlds.
The Supreme Society
Originally contacted for his naval expertise, Duskgear has become fond of and embraced the concept of the Supreme Society, an eclectic collection of individuals with a rather lofty goal of world domination.
Was rather high up on the food chain, but that's all in the past, unfortunately. ((He is a National Socialist, aka Nazi. I am not. He despised the concentration camps, but only because they were wasting his funding and returning nothing. As said before, it's not something he publicizes in this day and age.))
Either send me a tell ingame @Prodiguy or send an email, adress on my userpage. His communicators get reception anywhere in the present of this dimension if you want to play it that way.
((available to those with his full name and some digging))
Stefan Müller was born in Wilhelmshaven, Germany, in the early 1900s. No details of his life have been confirmed up until 1943, where his name is mentioned in conjunction with several of the experimental research projects that never bore fruit. Of particular note is a scorched piece of paper found in Dresden, listing him as the head of a project called "Neunauge", as well as authorization of a trial run in the Nordmeer with an objective of containment. Nothing else can be made out, the scrap was all that remained of what must have been a hidden research base due to the heavy Allied bombing. Stefan is lost to history at this point, and when he resurfaces in the wake of the Cold War he is barely recognizable as the man he once was. Now he seeks power for its own sake, seeking the glory of the country he once served.
((For those who knew him))
After rising from a humble machinist to the lofty rank of Admiral, Stefan was understandably miffed when he was recalled at the outbreak of war to help supervise and develop public works projects. That all turned to excitement and pride, however, when Adolph Hitler himself spoke to him and a handful of other such individuals chosen to explore the more esoteric military options available to the Reich. His natural skill and leadership served him well, and he quickly found himself Hauptforscher of the entire division. This position brought him in contact with nearly all the facets of research, from the occult and daemon-binding (a program he personally terminated during a containment breach), to the exploration of possible other dimensions, his last known assignment. He was a harsh, unforgiving supervisor, and developed quite a reputation for his tirades against rival programs who received more funding than his own. There were some rumblings after his disappearance that the top commanders of the military had had him killed, but that is obviously not true. He is, however, radically different in appearance from the man you once knew.
((The real story))
Stefan Müller was born on August 1, 1900, the son of Hans and Helga Müller. He spent a happy childhood in Wilhelmshaven until his 14th birthday, when his father was called to serve in the quickly-escalating conflict that would become the First World War. Inspired by his mother's patriotism despite her husband's absence, he lied about his age and got a job as an apprentice machinist in the now-buzzing shipyards of his country. He was quite skilled, and as the war wore on his diligence and attention to detail made him the pride of his mentor, as well as the welders and other laborers he worked with. His mother, ever the patriot, kept him inspired at dinner with the news of his father's victories and how proud she was to see him serving the Fatherland with the gifts he'd been given. And then his father died, killed by mustard gas. A normal boy would have been deeply moved by this news, and Stefan was no different in that sense. Instead of sorrow, however, he grew hateful. He nearly doubled his output at the shipyard, and even his mother was amazed at the zeal with which he worked. He'd known who his enemies were in this conflict, and he had hated them as any good citizen would. But now, it was personal. They had not just struck the Fatherland but him as well, and his teenage naievete didn't help this attitude. He saw clearly how he had been wronged, and became determined to get payback. As the United States entered the war he began to apply to the navy despite his age, finally being accepted just in time for the armistice between the Central and Entente Powers. Needless to say, he was flabbergasted. His amazement and outrage grew to a peak during the Wilhelmshaven Mutiny, where he was forced to put down several mutinous friends and assisted loading one of the cannons used to disperse the riot. The Treaty of Versailles left him utterly flabbergasted and even more enraged, particularly since he felt the effects firsthand as the German navy was forcibly weakened. He remained diligent however, and his discipline saw him to the rank of Admiral shortly before Adolph Hitler was sworn into the chancellorship. Stefan had monitored Hitler's rise via radio, and found himself increasingly enamored of the ideals of National Socialism. A strong Fatherland required a strong government, one immune to the corruption and dirty deals that had betrayed its people to the ravages of foreign extortion. The concept of removing undesirables appealed to him as a worker, as someone who valued hard work and contribution, and as someone who personally resented and was affected by an unjust treaty. As opposing parties began to disappear he applauded the removal of the divisive bickering that prevented decisive action. And as the first bombs fell on Poland, he smiled and began to load the chip on his shoulder into his vessel's main cannon. As before, he would not get to serve his country through the navy. He was recalled to help supervise and develop public works projects, and nearly had to be physically forced onto the transport that came for him. He stormed off the boat ready to strangle whoever had pulled him from his duty, but was stopped short when he realized that the smiling man before him was none other than der Führer himself, who exchanged salutes and then led him to the secret bunker and explained his new posting. He was to be a roaming assistant of sorts to the various research groups of the Reich, to apply his mechanical and organizational genius to the various esoteric projects under development. He adapted well to his new position, quickly gaining a reputation as a ruthless taskmaster. No-one could deny his skill however, and more than one project was terminated when he revealed a fatal flaw, sometimes violently. While he couldn't tell his wife precisely what he was up to, she was assured by his mother's company and the safety of Dresden, where they had moved at the onset of war. His family was safe, but Stefan's new authority both required and allowed him to dull the impact of his zeal. He adapted to the political maneuvering by internalizing his rage, building a cool, calm facade that allowed him to work largely unmolested. His superiors weren't fooled, but woe upon any clerk who diverted funds from his current project. His reputation grew, and so did the friction amongst the Reich's other top figures. When he was assigned to the research vessel KMS Solomon it was no secret that he was being got rid of. The ship's mission was to harness a strange anomaly that had been discovered in the North Sea by a Uboat prowling the area, dismissed by most as a simple thunderstorm. The ship vanished, the Allies invaded, and the war was lost. That wasn't the end of Stefan's story however. The anomaly was quite real, and it engulfed the Solomon. It entered a dimension of matterless energy, and the crew was ripped apart. Stefan alone had the force of will to retain his self, but not his form. He observed the Allied landing at Normandy, watched as his countrymen were slaughtered at Stalingrad, his impotent rage consuming and sustaining him. Filled with disgust and anger he watched over his wife and mother as they huddled in fear of the Allied bombers, unable to act as flames consumed them both. How long he remained in those ruins, none can say, but the occupying Soviet forces had several superstitions regarding the place. As the U.S.S.R. died he stirred, vindicated by the sight of one of his grand vengeances being carried out. The decades of pent-up emotion allowed him to force entry back to the material world, remaking the Solomon and himself. He returned changed, forever linked to that strange dimension. He remained a brilliant inventor however, and was quick to utilize this unlimited energy source to settle several revenges and re-establish himself as a major player in this new world.