Samuel Hartmann III

[Dai]

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CASE FILE: Cretan Militant

"I'm sorry. I couldn't 'ear ya over th' sound of your shit blowin' up."
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FULL NAME:
→ Samuel Amadeus Hartmann III
→ Codename: Wrex

AGE:
→ 27

SEX:
→ Male

BIRTH PLACE:
→ London, Creta

RACE:
→ Cretan

DEPARTMENT:
→ SPECTRE

DATE OF BIRTH:
→ September 16, 1985

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HEIGHT:
→ 184 cm

WEIGHT:
→ 62 kg

PICTURE:
→

Spoiler:

DESCRIPTION:
→ At first look, we can see that Sam has a tall and lanky figure, not appearing to have a lot of girth, and being quite a lot of skin and bone. His height and weight make him appear to sway a little in the wind, and he's often referred to as 'beanpole' by future targets of explosives. Despite his tall and lanky figure, if one were to get him disrobed, they would see that he is still powerfully-built and solid, with enough muscle to be useful in a fight if necessary. His arms are especially powerful due to the weaponry that he's used to carrying. His skin is pale and almost flawless, though there are several burn marks on his arms and legs from... mistakes. that have been made over the course of his lifetime, but most of them are from about ten years previous--he rarely makes those mistakes anymore.

His hair is a dark color, very close to black but with a bit of dye in there to blue it up a little. It hangs down by his ears, unkempt, and he doesn't want to cut it any time soon. He washes it daily, but that's about all--no preparation really needs to go into this hair of his. He is almost always seen wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, covering up deep blue eyes. These eyes are of average size, and almost always watching with a slightly seductive nature. He has a deep, gravelly, almost quintessentially Cretan accent despite his posh name.

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PERSONALITY:
→ Loud and proud. Sam is the sort of guy who will tell you whatever the hell you want to know--every grisly detail, and then some--he's disturbingly honest at times. He finds that lying to anyone is exactly the same as lying to himself; so he refuses to do such a thing. With that in mind, he must be said to be quite truthful with himself, and almost always knows exactly what he wants, when he wants it. This confidence that he exudes has drawn several people to his side over the years.

A lot of this confidence is false, unfortunately. Over the years he has built a 'badass' persona, and he tries to stick with it as much as he can while in public. Considering that he also can't hear out of one ear, he makes light of almost all of his wounds when in battle, fighting to the very bone. He shows little regard for his own life, willing to throw himself between people and attacks like it's nobody's business but his own. He acts quickly and desperately, making certain that those around him are more guaranteed to survive than he. It could almost be said that he has something of a death wish.

It all boils down to this lack of self-satisfaction that he feels with himself, and with life. He feels that his own life and self are completely expendable, as long as the mission is completed without a hitch. He would prefer to survive, but is also willing to give up his own life at a moment's notice. Because he fights with explosives and heavy weaponry, he quite often gets roughed up and doesn't care. Nobody else has ever cared, so why should he? He does, however, tend to care about people he gets close to--not worried about if they care back. If he finds someone he can devote himself to, he may possibly allow himself to survive more often...

LOVE:
→ Metal, rock, Explosives, Explosions, Anything that can go 'boom', anything that is large and will cause a lot of destruction, kittens, puppies, alcohol, his specially-branded cigars, his sunglasses, the sun rising on a beautiful day.

HATE:
→ Country music, Cigarettes (he finds them lacking in class), pistols aka pea-shooters, alchemy, people that hate kittens and puppies, people that hate alcohol (he doesn't mind if they don't drink), bigoted vegans, posh accents, Zenith Howler.

DEEPEST SECRET:
→ He has a haunting fear of Alchemy and its applications. He's slowly getting to the point of where he can stand it, but certain things continue to pressure him into remaining afraid.

IDOL:
→ Alfred Nobel, the inventor of Dynamite.

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HISTORY:
→ The Hartmann family. Well-off. Powerful. Influential. A family with a hand in every cookie jar known to man. They had shares in a good 25% of the country itself, and yet their very structure at the time was unknown. Corruption was abound in this family, until the birth of the Third Samuel. The previous two were maniacal and corrupt, maintaining order in their family with a heavy hand. Samuel the First specialized as an oil tycoon, building the family's wealth out of liquid gold. Samuel the Second was a mining specialist. He fed the family's coffers with ore and coal. So, of course, one would expect Samuel the Third to be in the same boat. They expected him to grow into a ruthless businessman, so they simply stopped caring. Smiles weren't shared--Sam had no real family life to speak of. Then... The Second heard of the Amestrian Alchemy. Knowing that he could make a profit off of it, he decided to attempt to force it upon Third.

Having had no real guidance, Samuel didn't take it well. No matter how hard Second tried, Samuel continued to rebel against his father, not wanting to do what he wanted. This continued on for a month or so before Samuel finally caved in--but being the foolish businessman he was, Second immediately wanted great results. And he got them. In the form of spikes through his abdomen. Now, no matter how much you hate your family, you never really get over watching them get disembowelled. So much so, that even the mere idea of Alchemy scared Samuel witless. He escaped from his home, but no before getting those idiot businessmen (whom believed him within minutes) to liquidate as much of their stocks as possible, before hoarding the family fortune and leaving. He was eighteen, stupid and sick of living there. He had nowhere else to go, but he didn't want to be there any more. He took his money and bought an apartment in central London.

From then on, well, things got interesting. He signed himself up into the military. Not sure why, but it may have been impulsive. Instead of going into the army, he was put into the Air Forces. He quickly took to pilot training--maybe it was so that he didn't have to face Alchemic Foot Soldiers. But the years went on as Sam fought, flew and trained himself to become better and stronger. His preferred aircraft were the bombers; he found great pleasure in dropping bombs upon enemy strongholds. As he progressed through the ranks, he came across a man named Zenith Howler. They worked three or four missions together; but the largest one that they worked together... was an utter fuck up.

Sam had it perfect. Everything was in place. However, what he didn't know was that some idiot had decided to pull a trigger far too early. As soon as he'd realized, it was too late. The explosives went off around him, knocking him back, and unconscious...

By the time he awoke, he found himself to be disoriented. A loud ringing emanated from his right ear, and no matter how much he looked--the fucker wasn't there. He searched for about an hour, before giving up--he simply walked back to London, cursing Zen Howler with every step. The ringing faded about a day before he arrived, but that didn't fix his hearing. After making sure with his CO that he was still alive, he checked himself in--and was told a day later that the inner area of his right ear had been completely shattered. He wouldn't hear from there again. Three days later he was consigned to the Spectres. It's been three years since then. Three years, and somehow that fucker has evaded his every move. Three years worth of explosions.

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TRIVIA:
→ Speaks Cretan and Aerugese. Wants to start learning Esparian.
→ Has a kitten named Grunt
→ Lives in a small apartment when he's not working, despite having an inheritance in the millions of pounds.
→ Lost the hearing in his right ear due to Zen's idiocy.
→ His favorite cocktail is the Long Island Iced Tea.
→ He prefers to use dynamite in battle, and will be smoking when he does so.
→ Give him enough C4 and about an hour, and he'll be able to drop any building to the ground.
→ He excels in guerilla combat.
→ The smallest weapon that he'll choose to wield is a 50 cal. sniper rifle.
→ He is very skilled in tracking.
→ His theme song is Short Change Hero by The Heavy
→ He chose his codename because of how similar to sounds to "wrecks".
→ He's spiritual, but not religious. He believes in an afterlife, and will treat all victims as such. He already knows that he's doomed to damnation.
→ If he were to have a voice actor, it would likely be Jason Statham.
→ He has a pilot's license, and can fly any plane shy of a Hercules in size.
→ As a result, however, he cannot drive anything on land or water to save his life.

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ALIAS:
→ Dai~

OTHER CHARACTERS:
→ Presently, this is my first character.

CREATOR'S COMMENTS:
→ Hopefully I'm not too rusty. xD Also, the character that supposedly has this FC is gone, so yeah.

FACE CLAIM:

Code:

[b]LA STORIA DELLA ARCANA FAMIGLIA[/b] [i]Jolly[/i]

CUSTOM RANK:
→ BOOM, BABY

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[Iris]

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Looks gewd owo WELCOME BACK