Roman Randolph

🌿 Occupation: Soldier
🌿 Personality: In a word: cantankerous
🌿 Physical Description: 5'11", 130 lbs.
🌿 History: Roman lived in crippling poverty, roaming the streets on his own. He doesn't remember who cared for him before he cared for himself. At one point, he put himself in an orphanage, but the economy was in such shambles that living there was scarcely better. He would have escaped if they hadn't let him out the front door. He resumed living as he had been, becoming hopelessly depressed and cynical. At age seven, he was abducted. A group of strangers had been roaming the place Roman was squatting and he was attracted by their apparent wealth, hoping to steal something off them. Instead, they stole him. They did this with a small gang of other young people, ages varying, before leaving his home planet and parking their ship in orbit who-knows-where

In the hands of his captors, Roman was taught to be a ruthless child soldier. He was trained in guns, CQC, combat tactics, and, when he showed a knack for it, leadership and strategy. For a brief period upon capture, he resisted this treatment, but the strangers weren't interested in children who didn't do as they were told. Punishments were swift and harsh. Roman didn't need the extra persuasion, though. His inclinations quickly changed simply so he could take out his pent up frustrations. He became vicious and dangerous much faster than his peers. He turned on them without his captors' prompting, making moves to "whip them into shape". The strangers were pleased by such behavior and encouraged his juvenile rage. In turn, he accepted their lessons as they made him more of a force to be reckoned with. He wasn't pleased with his situation, always furious and secretly scared, but he did like having a sense of control over something - someone, rather. He leaned into it with a nigh religious devotion

There were many other periods of collection and training of the new captives. Those who were too weak were killed; thrown out into space. Many children went this way. In each successive kidnapping spree, the gathered children found themselves less at the mercy of their captors, more at the mercy of Roman. The lanky little killing machine was mentored by the strangers and, once he was ready, taught groups of his own. He was known to be more aggressive and brutal than the kidnappers and would spare no mercy to those who balked.

His sheer hostility actually managed to distract the kidnappers, diverting them from their goal for many years just so that they could see what would happen if they kept feeding this fire. Around the time he was fifteen, there was a refocusing. The murderous baby-army had grown to a significant size and there was no sense in sitting around, just waiting for them to mutiny. The ship ventured out towards a particular rim world, one the kidnappers had heard tale of riches and glory from. They landed there, not far off from an ancient structure. These things had been advertised as the 'X' marking the spot, so they moved in. The kidnappers were surprised by the fact the relic was totally unguarded...! Perplexed, they moved closer to the doors than they should have, trying to peer inside.

Just like that, there was a bullet through their heads. Roman's slavers were assassinated in the briefest of moments by something no one had seen. There was immediate dissent among the ranks. Roman hushed them, nervous himself, and warned that separating now would be a poor course of action (part because of strategy, part because of him). So they all stood stock still for minutes, staring in quiet horror at the side of the structure and waiting for something to happen. No fewer than thirty minutes crawled by before they heard a sound - a deep, mechanical grinding. It drew closer and, before ranks could be broken from panic, a machine peered around the corner. One more second and then there was a shot, silent except for the bullet slicing through the air. Several children went down, sniped.

That's when hell broke loose. Roman and his loyalest followers held their ground while the perhaps wiser captives scattered or returned to the now captainless ship. The robot was brutal, efficient, and merciless. Still, he and his team of bloodthirsty kids were able to down the thing by the skin of their teeth. The scarcely had a moment to catch their breath before the realized there was more grinding... Far more grinding than just one machine could make. Roman knew they were beat. Everyone knew it. With no real way out of this situation, he called for an every man for himself and fled.

Roman spent the next years of his life trying to survive in on an alien world with almost exactly nothing to his name. He nearly starved, was nearly eaten, and nearly gunned down hundreds of times. Merely a year later, he was found by a pirate faction. They took some time to point and laugh at the feral child before moving in to kill him, but Roman fought back with such unrestrained brutality that they thought twice... Half amused, half considering him as a weapon, they captured him and took him back to their colony. It took nothing to convert him to their cause; he had nothing else to fight for. Thus, the next few years would be spent furthering his training, learning the workings of the rimworld, and participating in loyalty tests.

When he was eighteen, he was taken on a raid that was not supposed to be a big issue. A peaceful colony had taken root on the harsh world. The pirates wanted what they could get out of it and then they wanted it crushed. Roman wasn't taken for any particular reason - he just went. However, the supposedly easy win turned dark as the colony mowed down any attackers who dared approach. They sustained damages, sure, but there was no point of too much - nothing equaled surrender. Roman was neither the first or the last to be downed by the new faction. He lie there, expecting to be killed before the skirmish was over. Yet, the gunfire ceased and he found himself being collected, aided...

The faction, known as Triple Crossers, nursed him back to health for reasons he could not fathom. Once it was concluded that he wasn't going to die, he assumed this would be the next bullet point on his list of work experience. He made an attempt to impress his wardens as he'd done with others, but they strangely seemed shocked at his viciousness. This didn't make any sense to him - he was doing everything right. However, the Crossers insisted that they didn't want him to fight if he didn't have to. In fact, they toured him around the colony, showing him what he could have if he chose peace. It was a very perplexing tour. These people whom he didn't know at all and whom he had just attacked would build him his own room, feed him, and provide him with everything he needed and for what? Nothing at all?

Needless to say, this was the arrangement that Roman trusted the least. It took a long time to convince him of the legitimacy of the offer. Eventually, he did accept. However, he trusted no one. Every gesture of kindness was some sort of trap in disguise... Every assurance of ease was a search for weakness. His hostile, abrasive temperament was tolerated with the patience of saints and eventually, after being a colonist for several years, he began to be worn down

🌺 Details: Roman is exceptionally good at melee and ranged combat. However, he's almost completely unskilled in every other facet. His closest third goes to wardening - and it's a distant third. Ranking them out of twenty with twenty itself being the best possible option, it'd be: Shooting: 18/20, Melee 11/20, Warden 4/20 🌿 He's incredibly passionate about combat. He wasn't just trained to do it; he loves it. This is difficult to make others understand. Grappling with the fact that he gets pissed off after not fighting things is a point of contention 🌿
🌺 Songs: [• Normal song] [❤ Ship song] [♪ Just vibes] [☊ Song character would listen to]
🌺 Extra: /