MY NAME IS: DOOMLOCK
MY ENTRY IS FOR: Combat spark – sparring partner (to help keep Striker’s skills in top condition)
My profile: Name:Ex-Commander Slithor Psa, but he’s called Striker by most people.
Gender: Male
Age: 80 – middle-age for a Naga
Physical description: Striker is a Spitting Cobra Naga. He stands about 7 foot tall, but can be taller if he stands up on his tail in a strike position. His scales are a Greenish brown in color and cover his entire body. When he gets mad, he can spit venom up to 20 feet at a target.
History/Backstory: He was a Commander in the one of the many wars that happened years ago, and that’s how he got the name “Striker”, but as for the rest of his past, it is a blur. He knows he had troops that were the best of the best. They were his friends and allies but something terrible happened (The Hunt). He can’t remember what happened to them - one minute they were there and the next thing he recalls, he was retired and didn’t remember what happened to his troops. When he tries to remember, his head starts hurting and he doesn’t know why. He wants to find out what happened to his troops, where they are now and why he can’t remember what happened to them.
Other important notes, quirks? He’s a good leader and likes weapons, getting any that he can.
My RP resumé: Nothing as of yet, but I’m very interested in this.
Response: I picked prompt: One
Fricasseed rats – they tasted good to Striker, but left him with an annoying aftertaste of ash, because he always overcooked them He had just finished such a meal, complete with a glass of red wine to wash it down.
He relaxed on his favorite worn recliner with his tail curled around the footrest, the cushion melded to his frame as he digested his lunch. Striker started to flip through the channels on his big screen television, when he came upon a documentary special.
“Nothing on thissss ssstupid thing any more,” he grumbled to himself, until something on the documentary caught his eye. He saw an image of a blob-like thing digging in the ground. A narrator could be heard talking about “Essentics” and what this one was recorded doing.
This picture and the word “Essentic” triggered something in the Cobra Naga’s mind. A flash, images of weapons, and soldiers, and . . . a face, someone he knew was important, but he couldn’t remember who; someone who was just gone.
Sometime later, Striker came to, and tried to figure out what had just happened to him. His head was throbbing, and he wasn’t the wine. One glass could never do this to him.
The documentary was coming to an end. Striker tried to watch it despite his headache, and fought to see what had happened to these things. That one face kept flashing back in his mind, trying to get him to remember him, to remember what had happened.
“Ssstop!!! Get out of my head! Who are you?!” He shouted, trying to make the face go away. His tail tightened around the footrest and snapped it off. Striker grabbed his head and hissed painfully, wishing this forgotten nightmare would leave him alone... or that he could remember who it was
