Application for Somarium
[Player name] Inky
[Age] 20
[Personal Journal] inkblotmeringue
[Other characters currently played] None
[Character name] Liquid Snake
[Age] 33
[Canon] Metal Gear Solid
[Point in time taken from canon] Right after the fight on top of REX
[Background]
Liquid Snake was one of three clones created by the Les Enfants Terribles project in 1972 in a secret facility in the United States. He was separated from his brother, Solid Snake, and his surrogate mother, EVA, shortly after birth, and was raised in the United Kingdom. His childhood was spent in military academies, undergoing a strict training and education program to mold him into the perfect soldier. He excelled both in his academics and in his training.
He was aware of the fact that he was the son of Big Boss from the moment he was able to understand it, and idolized him as both father and the greatest living soldier. He wanted to become everything that Big Boss was, and wanted to become the perfect warrior to carry on his father’s legacy, the best of his three sons. At age ten, he was given his first chance to meet the man that he admired so much; the experience did not go quite as Liquid had imagined, however. There was nothing remotely fatherly about Big Boss. Having to stand before him at attention while he went over Liquid’s scores and progress records was more like a military examination than what he had thought meeting his father and idol would be like. Even if he couldn’t expect anything paternal from the man, at least he thought that he had his accomplishments. His high exam marks, his impeccable records, all the things that he had worked so hard for. That had to please him. That had to make him proud, or, at very least, satisfy him. Liquid was a better soldier at ten than most men were at three times his age.
And then he was told, in no uncertain terms, that it didn’t matter that his scores were high and that he was, here in the UK, a prodigy. Because over in America was Solid Snake, and he was better on a fundamental level; Liquid was just the leftovers, the summation of everything that was of no value and no worth. He was inferior. He always would be inferior. It was written into his very genes.
Big Boss returned other times after that, and always with the same message: inferior. Solid Snake, forever superior to him in every aspect, in every facet. Solid Snake, his brother and his bitter rival, who, in what might have been the greatest affront of all, did not even know that Liquid existed. Every time that name was spoken, Liquid loathed it more, until the very word brother became an anathema; the thought of him twisted Liquid’s guts with hatred. As time wore on and the years passed and he was still inferior, Liquid took that blind hatred and anger and focused it, transforming it into a driving force that could not be matched and could not be stopped. One goal fuelled him with limitless energy: one day, he would meet Solid Snake. And when he did, he would kill his brother, and show them-show them all-that Liquid Snake was superior regardless of what his genetics dictated.
At eighteen, he became the youngest to serve in the SAS, the Special Air Service, and was deployed during the Gulf War in the Mobility troop. His eight-man squad, named Bravo One Zero, was assigned the task of locating and destroying mobile SCUD missile launchers in the Iraqi desert. During the mission the squad was compromised and was intercepted by Iraqi paratroopers. In the ensuing firefight, three of the eight men were killed, with the remaining five, among them Liquid, being taken captive. One other man died from his wounds on the way to a POW camp.
Liquid survived for four years as a prisoner of war before being rescued by the United States government and brought back to the UK. He spent the next few months in a military hospital, recovering from his injuries and upon returning to duty was transferred to the SIS, the Secret Intelligence Service, where he served in counter-terrorism operations for the next six years. In 2000, the M16 transferred him to work with the CIA-the reasons were entirely political, to his vague disgust-and he was assigned to FOXHOUND, an elite Special Forces unit that specialized in black ops. He led the unit, which happened to be the very same one that his brother had just recently retired from, and in 2005, put into motion the greatest nuclear threat of the age at Shadow Moses Island.
[Personality]
Liquid is an interesting mash of an arrogant son of a bitch mixed in with an inferiority complex the size of Wisconsin and an almost Shakespearean flair for drama. His body possesses near superhuman strength and endurance, he has an exceptionally high IQ and can employ an impressive level of discipline. He has all the skills of an elite super soldier and damn well knows it, and has the confidence that comes with being one of the best. He is, after all, a clone of Big Boss, the point man of FOXHOUND, and a decorated Gulf War veteran. He’s gone through training, battle, and torture and come out only stronger for it. Really, he has every reason for his confident swagger.
Except for the tiny matter of Solid Snake.
Ever since the day he was old enough to understand, Liquid was told that he was inferior. He was told, by the very man that he was cloned from and idolized, that he was the by-product formed in the creation of the perfect soldier; he was the garbage, the leftovers, the useless scraps. He would amount to nothing, and he was nothing. It was Solid who had been given all of Big Boss’ legacy, and it was Solid who would become the greatest soldier of the age. And no matter what Liquid did, no matter how hard he pushed himself or what he accomplished, he would never be good enough. The bitterness of being forever inferior left its mark on him at a young age; his chief motivations throughout his life were, and still are, hatred and the unshakable desire for revenge. Come hell or high water, he is determined to complete his goal-he would die for it, would make any sacrifice for it.
Liquid believes that he needs to be the perfect soldier, or at least as close to perfect as man can get, and therefore thinks that any kind of weakness is unacceptable. He’s repressed every kind of emotion other than anger because he thinks that they’ll make him weak, and has avoided any kind of personal relationship for the same reason. Relationships are only there to be exploited, and he thinks he’ll be better off relying only on his own strength. This whole line of thinking has also led to the kind of paranoia normally seen only in diehard conspiracy theorists, but considering that he worked for five years with Revolver Ocelot, Mr. Chronic Backstabbing Disorder himself, a little paranoia is perhaps understandable.
Pride and narcissism count amongst Liquid’s primary vices, springing from the need to hide that perceived inadequacy that was instilled in him from childhood. He already is firm in the belief that he is fundamentally flawed; if confronted about this, however, he would vehemently deny it with every fiber of his being, and then would likely launch into an impassioned speech about his plans to rebuild Outer Heaven and defeat his twin. He is controlling and manipulative, and attempts to mold others’ perceptions to fit his desires. Liquid wants to be perceived as an aloof, unconquerable warrior, unsurpassed in intelligence and cunning, and will take the necessary steps to ensure such a reaction. He wants to be noticed, and he wants to be envied. Liquid can be ruthless if it’s necessary, or, should it serve him, he could be the opposite; either way, his actions will be foremost to further his goals, and he’s adaptive and resourceful enough to twist situations to his advantage.
Being a soldier, he realizes also the importance of being able to work in a unit, and, despite the fact that he thinks any unit is only worth having if he’s leading it, he can take an order when necessary-he is, after all, a soldier. And he isn’t opposed to taking advice, especially when that advice comes from someone who’s proven themselves competent. Liquid doesn’t know everything and is well aware of the fact that he can’t do everything.
Liquid tends to speak in one of two fashions-either he is imperious or he is sarcastic, and there are few times when he will be something other than those. It takes one hell of a good impression on him to start treating others as equals-it was something that recently had been exclusive to members of FOXHOUND, his black ops unit, all of whom he trusted and had proven time and time again that they were loyal and capable (except, perhaps, for Ocelot, but he was at least a consistent traitor, and no one could deny that they didn’t all expect him to backstab them somehow, eventually). It’s not impossible to gain his trust and professional respect, but it certainly takes a lot. Many things can irritate him or possibly even anger him, though, but nothing infuriates him like incompetence, either from an individual or a group, and it is not something that he ever tolerates. Mistakes are one thing-they happen, even after the most careful planning-but sheer ineptitude and uselessness is an entirely different thing.
[Abilities]
Despite being the perceived lesser of the twins, Liquid has been trained as a soldier from a very young age, and is therefore skilled in combat, military tactics, and various types of weaponry. He is an outstanding pilot, and was capable of shooting down to F-16s while piloting from the weapon’s operator seat of a Hind D helicopter. He also has the advantage of being fluent in seven languages: French, Arabic, Malay, English, German, Russian, and Chinese. Liquid also is incredibly intelligent, and his IQ was recorded as being 180 in his military records, and this helps him to learn and adapt quickly. His memory is also excellent and he can remember large amounts of information with exceptional recall.
He is naturally gifted with strength, stamina, and keen senses, which all come from being a clone of the elite soldier, Big Boss. Through training, he’s honed his physical capabilities to their peak, and therefore is a formidable opponent in a battle, whether ranged or melee. Liquid is also proficient at disguising himself, and can completely alter his mannerisms if necessary to complete a disguise.
His military experience allows him to keep a level head in a crisis, and also means that he is extremely difficult to threaten or intimidate. Liquid has a high pain threshold and high endurance, and can keep on going in even the most hostile environment. He’s adaptive, resourceful, and damn near impossible to kill, almost to the point where it seems as though he has at least nine lives. Possibly more.
[Other important stuff]
Liquid has a big red button marked ‘Inferiority Complex’, and to set him off, all someone has to do is push it. Hard. Doing so can make him lose his restraint and sometimes his common sense, and at times can let him get played like a five cent kazoo, assuming the pusher plays his cards right. Sometimes, all it takes for him to get worked up is the mere mention of the names Solid Snake or Big Boss, and he’ll start into an epic rant that would put Hamlet to shame. His ‘family’ is his sorest point, outclassing even his pride and ego. The fact that there’s a Snake actually around means that there’s definitely going to be a few clashes going on-he’ll pursue Snake with all the bloody-mindedness of a mongoose with a cobra fetish, and God help you if you get in his way.
Liquid also suffers from PTSD and some pretty bad nightmares due to his time in the POW camp in Iraq. He tends to sleep very little as a result, either because he’s trying to avoid the nightmares or they wake him up when he does attempt to sleep. He dealt with the whole situation by repressing it all to hell, and certain actions or events could very well cause him to have a flashback.
[Sample post]
Everything was going according to plan.
The base was his and everything in it at his disposal-including the Metal Gear that towered over Liquid’s head like some kind of metallic behemoth, threatening the world without even being activated. The greatest weapon in the world, a walking nuclear tank that could fire untraceable nuclear warheads from any terrain, his to direct and fire at will. And with it he could create a new nation, one where soldiers chose their own destinies instead of being sent to their deaths at the whim of politicians. A world of endless warfare, of soldiers without borders, where the nobility of the warrior was forever exalted, and there be no repeats of the Boss’ fate. It would be perfect. And where others had tried before him and had fallen, he would succeed.
There was also the matter of Solid Snake.
Everything had been planned, practically down to the second, and Liquid was beyond certain that the President would be sending his brother to Shadow Moses. Soon, they would search for him, and find whatever hole he had been skulking in since he killed Big Boss, since the Zanzibarland uprising. He wondered, though, for a moment, if it hadn’t been at least a fitting death that Solid Snake had brought down on Big Boss-death by spray lacquer and a cheap lighter, combined into an improvised flamethrower. Killed by his own son, or, even better, his own clone; practically suicide, the more he thought about it.
Tilting his head back, Liquid looked upwards at the colossus, his Metal Gear REX, truly a king amongst weapons. Where others of its kind had failed-destroyed by one man on foot with Stinger missiles, no less-this one would succeed. And to think, it had once been a black-sheep project, one that no one thought would ever come to fruition. It had begun as an engineer’s sketch in the margins of a design for a hydraulic engine. Now it was a path to glory, and to its master’s revenge.
One man and Stinger missiles. He’d have an easier time taking out God than REX.
“Boss?” Ocelot’s voice hissed in his ear over the CODEC. “It’s time.”
It’s time. Two words that held such grave connotations. But, yes, it was time, time to usher in a new age of glory. Time to set into motion the events that would change the era; time to orchestrate a symphony that would climax in a battle between two brothers, between twin Snakes. It would be beautiful, and as he ascended the stairs to where his unit was waiting, he could hear the beginning notes.
He stood before the camera and plasma screen in the conference room, surrounded by the members of FOXHOUND-who all would stand with him until whatever end might come-the door flanked by two of the base’s Genome soldiers. Ocelot stood beside him, on his right, trustworthy as Judas; he pressed a few buttons on a laptop computer, and the screen before them flickered.
“We’re connected.” His voice was sharp like new spurs.
“Good evening, Mister President.”
[What do you hope to do with this character in Somarium?] Liquid’s got a lot of baggage and a lot of problems-the whole inferiority thing, his desire for revenge, daddy didn’t love him, his PTSD-and I’d kind of like for him to work some of it out.
[Which rule was your favorite and why?] I really like the activity check rules. It’s nice to have a little flexibility with how it can be passed.
[Age] 20
[Personal Journal] inkblotmeringue
[Other characters currently played] None
[Character name] Liquid Snake
[Age] 33
[Canon] Metal Gear Solid
[Point in time taken from canon] Right after the fight on top of REX
[Background]
Liquid Snake was one of three clones created by the Les Enfants Terribles project in 1972 in a secret facility in the United States. He was separated from his brother, Solid Snake, and his surrogate mother, EVA, shortly after birth, and was raised in the United Kingdom. His childhood was spent in military academies, undergoing a strict training and education program to mold him into the perfect soldier. He excelled both in his academics and in his training.
He was aware of the fact that he was the son of Big Boss from the moment he was able to understand it, and idolized him as both father and the greatest living soldier. He wanted to become everything that Big Boss was, and wanted to become the perfect warrior to carry on his father’s legacy, the best of his three sons. At age ten, he was given his first chance to meet the man that he admired so much; the experience did not go quite as Liquid had imagined, however. There was nothing remotely fatherly about Big Boss. Having to stand before him at attention while he went over Liquid’s scores and progress records was more like a military examination than what he had thought meeting his father and idol would be like. Even if he couldn’t expect anything paternal from the man, at least he thought that he had his accomplishments. His high exam marks, his impeccable records, all the things that he had worked so hard for. That had to please him. That had to make him proud, or, at very least, satisfy him. Liquid was a better soldier at ten than most men were at three times his age.
And then he was told, in no uncertain terms, that it didn’t matter that his scores were high and that he was, here in the UK, a prodigy. Because over in America was Solid Snake, and he was better on a fundamental level; Liquid was just the leftovers, the summation of everything that was of no value and no worth. He was inferior. He always would be inferior. It was written into his very genes.
Big Boss returned other times after that, and always with the same message: inferior. Solid Snake, forever superior to him in every aspect, in every facet. Solid Snake, his brother and his bitter rival, who, in what might have been the greatest affront of all, did not even know that Liquid existed. Every time that name was spoken, Liquid loathed it more, until the very word brother became an anathema; the thought of him twisted Liquid’s guts with hatred. As time wore on and the years passed and he was still inferior, Liquid took that blind hatred and anger and focused it, transforming it into a driving force that could not be matched and could not be stopped. One goal fuelled him with limitless energy: one day, he would meet Solid Snake. And when he did, he would kill his brother, and show them-show them all-that Liquid Snake was superior regardless of what his genetics dictated.
At eighteen, he became the youngest to serve in the SAS, the Special Air Service, and was deployed during the Gulf War in the Mobility troop. His eight-man squad, named Bravo One Zero, was assigned the task of locating and destroying mobile SCUD missile launchers in the Iraqi desert. During the mission the squad was compromised and was intercepted by Iraqi paratroopers. In the ensuing firefight, three of the eight men were killed, with the remaining five, among them Liquid, being taken captive. One other man died from his wounds on the way to a POW camp.
Liquid survived for four years as a prisoner of war before being rescued by the United States government and brought back to the UK. He spent the next few months in a military hospital, recovering from his injuries and upon returning to duty was transferred to the SIS, the Secret Intelligence Service, where he served in counter-terrorism operations for the next six years. In 2000, the M16 transferred him to work with the CIA-the reasons were entirely political, to his vague disgust-and he was assigned to FOXHOUND, an elite Special Forces unit that specialized in black ops. He led the unit, which happened to be the very same one that his brother had just recently retired from, and in 2005, put into motion the greatest nuclear threat of the age at Shadow Moses Island.
[Personality]
Liquid is an interesting mash of an arrogant son of a bitch mixed in with an inferiority complex the size of Wisconsin and an almost Shakespearean flair for drama. His body possesses near superhuman strength and endurance, he has an exceptionally high IQ and can employ an impressive level of discipline. He has all the skills of an elite super soldier and damn well knows it, and has the confidence that comes with being one of the best. He is, after all, a clone of Big Boss, the point man of FOXHOUND, and a decorated Gulf War veteran. He’s gone through training, battle, and torture and come out only stronger for it. Really, he has every reason for his confident swagger.
Except for the tiny matter of Solid Snake.
Ever since the day he was old enough to understand, Liquid was told that he was inferior. He was told, by the very man that he was cloned from and idolized, that he was the by-product formed in the creation of the perfect soldier; he was the garbage, the leftovers, the useless scraps. He would amount to nothing, and he was nothing. It was Solid who had been given all of Big Boss’ legacy, and it was Solid who would become the greatest soldier of the age. And no matter what Liquid did, no matter how hard he pushed himself or what he accomplished, he would never be good enough. The bitterness of being forever inferior left its mark on him at a young age; his chief motivations throughout his life were, and still are, hatred and the unshakable desire for revenge. Come hell or high water, he is determined to complete his goal-he would die for it, would make any sacrifice for it.
Liquid believes that he needs to be the perfect soldier, or at least as close to perfect as man can get, and therefore thinks that any kind of weakness is unacceptable. He’s repressed every kind of emotion other than anger because he thinks that they’ll make him weak, and has avoided any kind of personal relationship for the same reason. Relationships are only there to be exploited, and he thinks he’ll be better off relying only on his own strength. This whole line of thinking has also led to the kind of paranoia normally seen only in diehard conspiracy theorists, but considering that he worked for five years with Revolver Ocelot, Mr. Chronic Backstabbing Disorder himself, a little paranoia is perhaps understandable.
Pride and narcissism count amongst Liquid’s primary vices, springing from the need to hide that perceived inadequacy that was instilled in him from childhood. He already is firm in the belief that he is fundamentally flawed; if confronted about this, however, he would vehemently deny it with every fiber of his being, and then would likely launch into an impassioned speech about his plans to rebuild Outer Heaven and defeat his twin. He is controlling and manipulative, and attempts to mold others’ perceptions to fit his desires. Liquid wants to be perceived as an aloof, unconquerable warrior, unsurpassed in intelligence and cunning, and will take the necessary steps to ensure such a reaction. He wants to be noticed, and he wants to be envied. Liquid can be ruthless if it’s necessary, or, should it serve him, he could be the opposite; either way, his actions will be foremost to further his goals, and he’s adaptive and resourceful enough to twist situations to his advantage.
Being a soldier, he realizes also the importance of being able to work in a unit, and, despite the fact that he thinks any unit is only worth having if he’s leading it, he can take an order when necessary-he is, after all, a soldier. And he isn’t opposed to taking advice, especially when that advice comes from someone who’s proven themselves competent. Liquid doesn’t know everything and is well aware of the fact that he can’t do everything.
Liquid tends to speak in one of two fashions-either he is imperious or he is sarcastic, and there are few times when he will be something other than those. It takes one hell of a good impression on him to start treating others as equals-it was something that recently had been exclusive to members of FOXHOUND, his black ops unit, all of whom he trusted and had proven time and time again that they were loyal and capable (except, perhaps, for Ocelot, but he was at least a consistent traitor, and no one could deny that they didn’t all expect him to backstab them somehow, eventually). It’s not impossible to gain his trust and professional respect, but it certainly takes a lot. Many things can irritate him or possibly even anger him, though, but nothing infuriates him like incompetence, either from an individual or a group, and it is not something that he ever tolerates. Mistakes are one thing-they happen, even after the most careful planning-but sheer ineptitude and uselessness is an entirely different thing.
[Abilities]
Despite being the perceived lesser of the twins, Liquid has been trained as a soldier from a very young age, and is therefore skilled in combat, military tactics, and various types of weaponry. He is an outstanding pilot, and was capable of shooting down to F-16s while piloting from the weapon’s operator seat of a Hind D helicopter. He also has the advantage of being fluent in seven languages: French, Arabic, Malay, English, German, Russian, and Chinese. Liquid also is incredibly intelligent, and his IQ was recorded as being 180 in his military records, and this helps him to learn and adapt quickly. His memory is also excellent and he can remember large amounts of information with exceptional recall.
He is naturally gifted with strength, stamina, and keen senses, which all come from being a clone of the elite soldier, Big Boss. Through training, he’s honed his physical capabilities to their peak, and therefore is a formidable opponent in a battle, whether ranged or melee. Liquid is also proficient at disguising himself, and can completely alter his mannerisms if necessary to complete a disguise.
His military experience allows him to keep a level head in a crisis, and also means that he is extremely difficult to threaten or intimidate. Liquid has a high pain threshold and high endurance, and can keep on going in even the most hostile environment. He’s adaptive, resourceful, and damn near impossible to kill, almost to the point where it seems as though he has at least nine lives. Possibly more.
[Other important stuff]
Liquid has a big red button marked ‘Inferiority Complex’, and to set him off, all someone has to do is push it. Hard. Doing so can make him lose his restraint and sometimes his common sense, and at times can let him get played like a five cent kazoo, assuming the pusher plays his cards right. Sometimes, all it takes for him to get worked up is the mere mention of the names Solid Snake or Big Boss, and he’ll start into an epic rant that would put Hamlet to shame. His ‘family’ is his sorest point, outclassing even his pride and ego. The fact that there’s a Snake actually around means that there’s definitely going to be a few clashes going on-he’ll pursue Snake with all the bloody-mindedness of a mongoose with a cobra fetish, and God help you if you get in his way.
Liquid also suffers from PTSD and some pretty bad nightmares due to his time in the POW camp in Iraq. He tends to sleep very little as a result, either because he’s trying to avoid the nightmares or they wake him up when he does attempt to sleep. He dealt with the whole situation by repressing it all to hell, and certain actions or events could very well cause him to have a flashback.
[Sample post]
Everything was going according to plan.
The base was his and everything in it at his disposal-including the Metal Gear that towered over Liquid’s head like some kind of metallic behemoth, threatening the world without even being activated. The greatest weapon in the world, a walking nuclear tank that could fire untraceable nuclear warheads from any terrain, his to direct and fire at will. And with it he could create a new nation, one where soldiers chose their own destinies instead of being sent to their deaths at the whim of politicians. A world of endless warfare, of soldiers without borders, where the nobility of the warrior was forever exalted, and there be no repeats of the Boss’ fate. It would be perfect. And where others had tried before him and had fallen, he would succeed.
There was also the matter of Solid Snake.
Everything had been planned, practically down to the second, and Liquid was beyond certain that the President would be sending his brother to Shadow Moses. Soon, they would search for him, and find whatever hole he had been skulking in since he killed Big Boss, since the Zanzibarland uprising. He wondered, though, for a moment, if it hadn’t been at least a fitting death that Solid Snake had brought down on Big Boss-death by spray lacquer and a cheap lighter, combined into an improvised flamethrower. Killed by his own son, or, even better, his own clone; practically suicide, the more he thought about it.
Tilting his head back, Liquid looked upwards at the colossus, his Metal Gear REX, truly a king amongst weapons. Where others of its kind had failed-destroyed by one man on foot with Stinger missiles, no less-this one would succeed. And to think, it had once been a black-sheep project, one that no one thought would ever come to fruition. It had begun as an engineer’s sketch in the margins of a design for a hydraulic engine. Now it was a path to glory, and to its master’s revenge.
One man and Stinger missiles. He’d have an easier time taking out God than REX.
“Boss?” Ocelot’s voice hissed in his ear over the CODEC. “It’s time.”
It’s time. Two words that held such grave connotations. But, yes, it was time, time to usher in a new age of glory. Time to set into motion the events that would change the era; time to orchestrate a symphony that would climax in a battle between two brothers, between twin Snakes. It would be beautiful, and as he ascended the stairs to where his unit was waiting, he could hear the beginning notes.
He stood before the camera and plasma screen in the conference room, surrounded by the members of FOXHOUND-who all would stand with him until whatever end might come-the door flanked by two of the base’s Genome soldiers. Ocelot stood beside him, on his right, trustworthy as Judas; he pressed a few buttons on a laptop computer, and the screen before them flickered.
“We’re connected.” His voice was sharp like new spurs.
“Good evening, Mister President.”
[What do you hope to do with this character in Somarium?] Liquid’s got a lot of baggage and a lot of problems-the whole inferiority thing, his desire for revenge, daddy didn’t love him, his PTSD-and I’d kind of like for him to work some of it out.
[Which rule was your favorite and why?] I really like the activity check rules. It’s nice to have a little flexibility with how it can be passed.