Gabriel Fogg

[Guest]

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CASE FILE: Amestrian Militant {CAPTAIN} Alchemist// Alkahestrist

You want narcotics? What am I, a doctor or an angel of mercy?
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FULL NAME:
→ Wu Mengyao
→ Past Aliases: Yomotsu Sangeki (Aerugo) Afanasiy Crnobogovich Nechaev (Drachma), Corwin Barhydt (Creta)
→ Current Alias: Dr. Gabriel Thadeus Fogg

AGE:
→ 47

SEX:
→ Male

BIRTH PLACE:
→ Xi’an, however is now an Amestrian citizen

RACE:
→ Xing

DATE OF BIRTH:
→ 12/22/1964

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HEIGHT:
→ 230 cm (approx. 7.5 feet)

WEIGHT:
→ 360 kg (primarily augmentation weight)

PICTURE:
→

Spoiler:

DESCRIPTION:
→ Towering above about 95% of any given populace, herr Doktor is a sight that very few can miss and even fewer would ever forget. Whether taking on his slow stammering step, hunching like an ostrich trying to limbo, or standing completely erect and adopting his long bizarrely coordinated strides, Dr. Fogg constantly has the air of the unnatural around him, and this is even before one has seen what is under his robes. Let us start at the top of his head and work down to his toes shall we?

Fogg begins with a long oily mane of black hair that he lets drape about his head in loose unkempt strands. Although much of the rest of his body is kept immaculately clean, he does little to nothing with his hair as he sees it as little more than a bodily process for recycling dead cells. His head itself is somewhat elongated and tapers to a sharp stubble-less chin, giving him an almost weasel-like appearance. His eyes are normally thin slits, barely seen, but when acting in mock surprise or when otherwise attempting for effect, his irises are an animal like yellow while the whites of his eyes are almost completely red seeming due to an inordinate number of popping veins underneath. His face is otherwise unhampered by many oddities and in fact could have once been considered handsome, although such days are seemingly lost in severe personal neglect.

However as we proceed down the neck, things begin to take a turn towards nightmare fuel. His neck is long and sinuous; the sternocleidmoid muscles of his neck extremely prominent and seemingly in a state of strain while his clavicles protrude from his tight yellowed skin as though they were close to ripping out. Anyone taking more than a moment’s glance at it would be able to see masses of undulating cords within his neck, a horrific combination of technology and organics feeding who knows what throughout his body. Still downward, we come to his tortured and emaciated frame, a brutally savaged structure of added mechanics and bone held tightly together with a series of massive carbon-steel screws which Herr Doktor claims to be Chi points. His skin is stretched taut against his frame as though it was more of a tarp than a living tissue, and this might be closer to the truth than one might think. Under his skin high tensile strength cords and thin but tightly weaved composite materials form a sort of second skin that provide some level of bullet and ballistics proofing while his rib structure itself is a combination of bone and medical carbon metals. Below this layer, the creature’s organs have been moved and manipulated by alkahestry to obtain maximum function and minimal waste, while at the same time scrambling their position to avoid damage by a well-aimed shot. If one proceeds to the waste, one would find a mostly artificial pelvis and no sign of genitals.

From this wretched core protrude four elongated and bizarre limbs, combinations of incredibly advanced automail and biomechanics. Instead of being made from single large pieces of metal and clockwork, Fogg’s limbs are made of masses of fibrous synthetic muscle which work through a complex but powerful system of hydraulics whose cores are housed inside the Doctor’s well protected torso. At the end of these long twisted arms a pair of detachable hands, of which Fogg currently possesses three pairs. The one pictured is his primary hands, used in most everyday situations and laso called his Surgical Hands, and appear as long dexterous claws capable of fine manipulation and make handy scalpels both on the table and on the battlefield. Fogg's secondary pair are his Alchemy Hands, which appear at first as normal albeit large human hands. However this second pair is able to break its digits into a multitude of small digits which allow him to multitask on a massive scale, manipulate objects in a very fine and minute manner, and gives him perhaps the fastest typing speed of any living being. Given their function, it also allows him to draw out complex alchemic and alkhestric circles at blazing speeds. Finally his tertiary hands, which bear no special name, appear as twin clamps of devastating crushing power. He can use these for holding onto additional weapons or as dangerous weapons themselves, however they lack all but the most basic dexterity. His legs, which are bent backwards like an ostrich and allow him to reach supra-human sprinting speeds, end in cruel permanent talons that allow him to traverse or climb most terrains with ease and gives him a rather brutal kick.

His voice is something of a mystery to most as it never seems to stay the same for very long. Fluctuating between a high nasal soprano to a deep drumming basso profondo, he more or less seems to be constantly trying to find a voice that fits for him and never completely satisfied with any one. When speaking, however, he always tends to be rather lively but formal in his speech, often seeming to be highly apologetic, unerringly flattering, and above all most interested. He does, however, lack almost all tact and understands very few social stigmas and will thus often say things rather horrific without seeming to understand that they are. He does all of this with a light enthused smile plastered across his face, only changing his facial expression when he wishes to make a dramatic point. The Doctor when alone as no so called quirks, tics, or other such things. However when in the company of others, the Doctor will take on quirks and a vast display of body language to make his company feel more at ease around him. All this said, however, the Doctor is more or less without real emotion and will, when either serious or alone, remain with a blank affect and will speak in an androgynous monotone.

As for clothing, he usually keeps it simple enough, opting for a black Aerugese style kimono and a matching gasa to hide his features. He does not, however, bother hiding his hands or his feet.

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PERSONALITY:
→ Dr. Fogg has all of the personality of the deranged sociopath that he is. Probably the main focus of his personality is a certain twisted sense of perfectionism, to him the human body is a canvas that needs to be improved by any means necessary even if that means the canvas must be torn to shreds and stitched back together again. He seems to be unable to distinguish between the living and the inanimate, treating everything like ingredients or puzzle pieces waiting to be put together to make something more brilliant, preferably himself. The Doctor is inanely curious and can be manipulated to a certain extent should information new or alien to him is presented. He makes deals and changes sides rather quickly depending upon who curries his favor the most and is not immune himself to flattery. He is willing to provide complex, time consuming, and highly advanced favors ( often making, designing, or producing various technologies and surgical modifications) in return for very little if his interest is piqued enough.

Dr. Fogg tries to pose himself as a being with emotion, often reacting or simply acting in a way that seems to him like the appropriate emotional reactions. However due to his own twisted way, these "emotions" only help in making him seem like the monster he is. He is not easy to "anger" usually just taking everything in his a grin and keeping a calm demeanor. However, out of this calmness, he can easily lash out with what could amount to rage without notice. Laughter is something that Dr. Fogg has been experimenting with; changing between cackles to guffaws, his favorite now is a light and sinister mix of a cackle and a snicker. Dr. Fogg does not give a damn about anyone but himself, however when someone shows themselves to be useful he will do whatever in his power to keep them from coming to harm. It is almost paradoxical that a being so seemingly evil can also be among the most loyal of minions if it comes down to it.

LOVE:
→ Sciences, information, old technology, new technology, books, experimentation, the smell of chemicals, perfection, himself

HATE:
→ IMPERFECTION, IMPERFECTION, IMPERFECTION, IMPERFECTION, IMPERFECTION….oh I need different one? Test subjects who fight back, thankless superiors, unwillingness to do whatever it takes to reach a goal, mondays

DEEPEST SECRET:
→ Fogg generally does not keep secrets of any sort.

IDOL:
→ Johann Dippel, James Lind, Luigi Aloisio Galvani, Count Alessandro Giuseppe Antonio Anastasio Gerolamo Umberto Volta,

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HISTORY:
→ How does one accurately describe the childhood of an entity whom is no longer attached to that former state of being? Indeed, how does one accurately tell what childhood is appropriate for this particular entity? One must refine one's definition of self, what part of the body is it? The being now called Dr. Gabriel Thaddeus Fogg is far from the man once call Wu Mengyao. Some gray matter, perhaps an organ or two, and some of the skeletal structure is all that remains of the man called Wu Mengyao. One might bring up the Soul, but when one critically looks at a noumenal object such as the soul, where does one correctly identify the self within it? Is the self within the Soul the person whom the belonging body was, is, or will be? Is it a noumenal substance that remains the same beyond all change? Can it not be said that from instance to instance, as we change and redefine ourselves, that it too become reflected in the blank slate of our being? So, who is to say if there is anymore history to Dr. Gabriel Thaddeus Fogg than an infinite series of infinitely small moments, tied together not by causality but only resemblance. However, for the sake of simplicity, we shall give him voice to allow, in his own words, a look into his childhood.

My childhood you say? You wish to know the who, what, when, and where that a being such as I originates? Yes, I can see it as a question worth posing if one wishes to understand things thoroughly, however I must admit your interest in historical origins is much less interesting that chemical or biological origins. I will, however, humor you as it is the socially appropriate action is it not?

Forty Seven years ago in the Xinganese city of Xi'an, a man named Wu Wei and a woman whom custom declared his wife named Wu Xue preformed an action dictated by both custom and instinct in order to create a third being in order to preserve the species, in short they procreated. The spawn of this union was named, as is customary for the purpose of identifying a single individual from another single individual, Wu Mengyao. The conception, bearing, and birthing of this entity went without incident or issue, due in part to instinctual application of caution on the mother and instinctual protection by the father, in this case by the application of his own Alkahestric skills. Thus, the physical body that would eventually gain the name Gabriel Thaddeus Fogg was created....

Oh, you want more than this? Did the narrator not just explain the flaws of causality and of the arrow of time? Ah, such Humian skepticism turns stomachs does it not? I for one will have none of it. Very well, the child called Wu Mengyao was of a family favored by the Imperial line and had since time immemorial been Alkahestrist of substantial skill, which explains the etymological origin of their Surname which when translated may roughly be equated with sorcery. In such a family, the child Mengyao grew with little or no want or needs that could not be provided for, he knew not suffering nor illness that could not be healed, hunger nor thirst that could not be sated, questions that could not be answered. One could call such a life luxurious or stifled, mattering upon ones own subjective bias. In short, however, his every hierarchical need was seen to in a manner fitting of a psychological fulfillment.

Due to choice genetics and apt teaching techniques, the boy grew and learned at a rapid pace befitting of his personal qualities. Early on he was enrolled in a teaching institution formed for the purpose of boarding and educating individuals whom society had judged to be superior and he did little to take away from this applied status. Due to hormones released during puberty, of course, he did perform certain imperfect actions common to youth within his society; however these minor annoyances to his elders and fellows were looked over or dealt with as per societal measures and were of little to no consequence in the long run. Eight years later he would exit the institution, sexually and mentally mature, and ready to begin his education in earnest. Thus, once again reunited with the individuals designated as his family, the young man began an apprenticeship under his father to learn the secrets of Alchemy and Alkahestry passed down through their line alone, a form of educational primogeniture.

Ah, you stare at me as though you judge what I say to be quite queer. I daresay I am telling the story in a just and concise manner worthy of the situation, it is no fault of mine that you are interested in misadventure and dialog, for I fear such things are inconsequential and rather absent. Such things represented such a small part of the young Wu Mengyao’s life, speech was little tolerated next to correction action and adventure, mis or otherwise, were nonexistent. So, please do not interrupt again and I shall thank you graciously.

For some years the young Wu Mengyao practiced under his father’s tutelage and worked as his assistant. In such a position, he was able to work upon and study many many specimens, from the myriad of illnesses that were required to be treated to the body modifications asked for by the social elite. Furthermore his education was supplemented by the many executed prisoners of the Empire that his father was supplied with for in-depth study. At one time the social stigma of working with the dead would have surely placed the father and son in a low end caste; however such a stigma was long since dropped by all but the most traditional and zealous. However one cannot deny the experiences the young man gleaned from dissecting and studying the still warm bodies of junkies, murderers, pedophiles, and political traitors.

After some time the young man was deemed worthy of partnership in his father’s practice, treated as an equal to his father’s genius. It was at this time that he was allowed his own laboratory and personal specimens to work with. Having been long stifled by the tutelage of his father and his schooling, Mengyao took the opportunity to pursue his own studies, though at this time one could hardly call them radical. A few modifications in the application of circles, a change in the drawing of the Dragon’s Pulse, the use of newly synthesized medicines and some more traditional Xinganese herbalism. He would, in his own time, push breakthroughs in several antitoxins, numerous vaccines, and a number of inventive but effective surgery techniques. Having so long only acting as he was commanded, this individual path was new and fascinating. His mind began to rewire itself in an unexpected manner, it developed its dopamine reward system in such a manner that medical and scientific progress became an intense drug to him; to put it simply, Mengyao became addicted to perfection.

For a time this system became a powerful driving force for him, the feelings of satisfaction from each new success becoming greater and greater as his mind became more and more focused. However, like any addiction to any substance, the effects of each victory became lessened, his body building a resistance to its own chemical system. Here begin to see what some might call the fall of Mengyao, and perhaps such a term would be correct. His studies and innovations became less and less open, less and less frequent to the public eye. He turned to using methods deemed inhuman or unethical in order to pursue the high of progress. Even these actions did little to stimulate the feelings of joy that he had experienced early in his career. Soon he developed a method of synthesizing dopamine for direct processing, however the further abuse numbed his receptors further and began to wrack his body with pain. It was at this seemingly desperate moment that Wu Mengyao turned his studies onto himself.

So long he had been expected to be perfect, so long he had been praised. At one time he could feel that praise, he could feel that he was worthy; however such a time was long since passed. He was beyond the understanding of other men, beyond the restrains of his own body; he could not feel because he had pushed himself beyond the limits of feeling. It was therefore imperative that he modified his form to befit his evolved mind; it became imperative that he obtained perfection. Thus Mengyao secluded himself from the world at large and began his metamorphosis.

At first his techniques were experimental at best, the strange stitching and melding of flesh, bone, and steel. He required numerous subjects to experiment on, the unhealthy corpses of executed prisoners not enough to quell his thirsts. He soon began to prey upon the weak and feeble, individuals from shanty towns that no one would miss. As his experiments progressed, however, he required more and more worthy subjects. A string of seemingly random disappearances began to crop up throughout Xi’an and Xing on a greater scale; prostitutes, businessmen, officials, and children; none were safe from the threats posed by Mengyao’s hunger. As his actions began to attract greater attention, he began to learn to synthesis flesh and muscle chemically. It was not, he reasoned, human transmutation if the parts were grown alone and without the assistance of alchemy; it was if anything a truer form of creation, closer to the perfection he wished for.

They eventually found Mengyao, his now highly edited form a twisted wreckage of parts living within underground catacombs hollowed out by his own hands. The hunting detectives who found him, however, had expected a depraved serial killer, not an accomplished alkahestrist. Their deaths were neither instant nor pretty, and it would later some time pry their remains from the hewn walls. However it posed a problem for Mengyao, if he was discovered once then he would be again, therefore it was time for a change of scenery.

A period of wandering occurred then for a number of years, travelling on foot or by hitching rides on trains, carrying with him his secrets and his tools, ready to enact his art when and where he could. He healed or killed for money and resources and more than once he has appeared as a background figure in various cartels, governments, and organizations. Where new knowledge appeared, Mengyao followed, looking constantly for ways to improve his being beyond its simple confines. When his presence became a burden or his stay had become unwelcome, Mengayao moved on to new territory where he could start again. Oft times the discarded and disturbing remains of his experiments were not discovered until he had long crossed the borders.

Over this time, he continued to change his form and his mind continued to…well you might say degrade. Mengyao became less and less a person and more and more something else. One could say that at some point over those infinitesimal moments, all that was Mengyao died as he slowly but surely replaced himself. A nameless being bent on perfection rose from what was once Mengyao, a being who changed and evolved each day, editing both mind and body towards that most delicious of goals. Yes, the man died and from it rose the pupa, the next stage that would eventually reach perfection!

The narrator taking over once more, we see that very little of Mengyao’s history is remembered or cared for by the being now calling itself Dr. Gabriel Thaddeus Fogg. Details are unimportant and lost, replaced by an overwhelming drive for perfection. Emotion, pleasure, and pain all burnt out in this pursuit; all replaced by a mockery of niceties and manners. This is the man who will, in mere moments, arrive at Fort Briggs and offer his services; thus for the first time allowing Amestris to either reap the benefits of his twisted yet genius mind or become the victims of it.

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ALCHEMIC/ALKAHESTRIC ABILITY:
→ Synthesis: Using a combination of chemistry and alchemy, Fogg is able to produce just about any chemical you might want at a much higher rate of speed than simple chemical techniques. That said, unless he has a good lab or plenty of raw materials, these chemicals will be limited in their quantity. For example, one of the easier items for Fogg to synthesize is hydroxide, which he can simply use the oxygen and hydrogen from air or water to make, and he can easily use this as a base for various acids if he has some access to other materials (like a banana for phosphorus.) Another favorite is using table salt and hydrogen to synthesize hydrochloric acid. An additional application with table salt is the creation of chlorine gas, however such an application would require him to have some personal protection against its effects. However he can make much much more advanced chemicals given time and access, such as 4-(2-aminoethyl)benzene-1,2-diol, 5-Hydroxytryptamine, (R)-4-(1-hydroxy-2-(methylamino)ethyl)benzene-1,2-diol, and 5-ethyl-5-(3-methylbutyl)-1,3-diazinane-2,4,6-trione also known as dopamine, serotonin, adrenaline, and amobarbital (truth serum) respectively. His main advantage here is the speed at which he is capable of mass producing these items or breaking them down. In a Lab setting he has various pieces of specialty equipment and circles that allow for this process. In a Battle setting, he possesses a flask, two vials, and a number of syringes which have specialized circles embedded into them. In either situation, he requires some sort of base material to work with.

→ Biosynthesis: Expanding upon his abilities to produce just about any chemical, Fogg has applied his alchemic synthesis techniques to his alkahestric training. Thus given the equipment, which is part of his larger lab, Fogg is able to rapidly synthesize just about any biological matter. He requires previous experience with a sample material, he cannot just create a chicken lung if he had never studied one, however for all intents and purposes Fogg is a master of human anatomy and can thus produce almost any human matter (from lungs to livers, to hearts and blood, however no brains). While this might seem to touch on the edge of human transmutation, this vat grown flesh is lifeless and incapable of being given life, however they are competently capable of being used for skin grafts and organ transplantation. He has been experimenting with ways to produce super-human examples however no overall body system is thus far capable of sustaining such examples for long. As this is a far more lengthy and resource heavy ability, it has no applications in battle scenarios.

→ Technosynthesis: In his quest for obtaining bodily perfection, Fogg has studied into beyond human sources in order to get closer to that goal. Thus Fogg has become a veritable master at the melding of flesh and technology, using his biosynthesis in combination with advanced technological creations to create prosthetics that function as naturally with the human body as currently possible. While the ability here alone is not applicable in a battle scenario, it does allow Fogg to develop and implement technology that few others could hope to image much less actually act upon. His legs, arms, and specialized hands are examples of this ability, and he is sure that the prosthetic heavy Fort Briggs will be more than delighted to upgrade its wares.

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TRIVIA:
→ Fogg cannot feel pain, nor pleasure for that manner, and is thus unable to accurately gauge the damage that his body receives in many circumstances. This allows him to push his body well passed its limits and perform superhuman acts of strength and speed, however it also means that Fogg can easily push himself beyond the point of no return and permanently damage himself
→ Fogg can be loyal to a fault if the one whom he is working for provides enough resources to make it worth Fogg's while. That said one can never really determine what Fogg feels is worthwhile as it could merely be an insightful thought or it could be access to top secret technology.
→ As a side note to those whom possess some type of mind reading abilities, such an act might be considered highly dangerous to perform on Fogg as his mind, at this point, is almost beyond human comprehension and can cause severe backlash to those unprepared for it.
→ Fogg is, with the help of his alkahestric and alchemic techniques, perhaps one of the best surgeons and automail technicians out there, although he would never call himself either. To him his art is the sculpting or editing of the human body to a more perfect state.
→ Fogg is capable of reading the Dragon's Pulse, however not to the degree of alkahestric purists or Xingese ninja.
→ Amestrian , Xingese, Aerugese , Drachman , Cretan

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ALIAS:
→ Aldrich

OTHER CHARACTERS:
→ Aldrich von Konig

CREATOR'S COMMENTS:
→ Nope

CUSTOM RANK:
→ Head of Briggs Science Division

OFFICIAL TITLE:
→ The Dysmorphic Alchemist

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[Guest]

I believe Dr. Fogg here is finished, I have his equipment app in the works.

[Dai]

A P P R O V E D

I'll admit, there are what most people would call "issues", though that is more to do with the fact that Gabriel is a Humanoid Abomination than anything else. If other people find a problem with this application, they are welcome to come to me with their issues, since this is a unique and well-written character; a welcome addition to Briggs.

[Dai]

Level Two; Major Rank Roll...

[Dai]

The member 'Dai' has done the following action : Rank Roll

'Major Roll' : 2

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