[RFC, Avatar, OC] The Mark Element

[Black Aeronaut]

As usual for me, it started with a slight.

"We know who you are, Uriel," said the recruiter, smiling like a shark that had
scented blood in the water.

I wrenched around at that name, a glare that could vaporize steel on my face. Granted, no one was supposed to know that name was associated with me. That wasn't the
point, though. The man went on.

"Arcus Kail, sniper, Marine Corps, code name Uriel, member of Project
Ying-Yang."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand, pencil
neck?"

The recruiter from the RDA simply smiled at me.
"Because I'm the man holding your ticket out of this hell hole."



I had to admit. I was intrigued.

I'd heard many things about this place called Pandora, that it was a beautiful world
that evoked visions of the Earth-That-Was centuries ago. It was completely unlike Earth in that anyone could get lost
there. Or, if you had the right skill set, you could disappear and never be found - free to live out your days as
peacefully as the carnivorous jungle would allow you to be.

It sounded like my kind of place; one where I could finally forget once and for all.



Cryo is no picnic, but at least you don't dream in it.
I can't imagine doing nothing but dreaming for six years. I'm glad that I didn't. Less chance of being bothered by what I might dream of.

"You okay there, deadeye?" asked the med-tech that pulled my cryo-cell open.

"Yeah, just dandy," I grumbled, fighting off the waves of nausea. Distractedly I ripped off the protective gauze covering my left eye socket. Curious, I
looked for a mirror.

The fact that my left eye was missing was nothing new to me. I'd long since gotten used to the sight of the grizzled scar tissue that had been all that was left - a reminder that I should
stay out of things like this.

That was then, though.

I pulled myself through the null-g cryo-chamber to my locker, ignoring all the other
half-drugged bodies drifting dizzily around, and opened it. There was a mirror inside the door.

The scar tissue was gone, replaced by freshly regenerated flesh. The eye was still gone, though. In its place was a black orb, completely and totally
featureless.

It was like an empty hole that craved nothing more than your soul. I scoffed at that thought - it suited me just fine.

There was someone next to me rummaging through his locker.
I hadn't paid attention before, but the legs caught my eye - those weak looking spindly legs that simply drifted uselessly.

"You're that Sully guy, aren't'cha?"

The ex-Marine looked at me with a curious, yet jaded expression. "And you are?"

I had to grin. No matter what I'd been
through, it was still so much fun to drop bombs like this.

"You know me, Sully. My call sign was Ma
Bell."

Sully blinked then said under his breath, "'Reach out and touch
someone.' Holy shit. I never thought I'd ever get to meet
you. Did you get the guy that got me?"

I felt the bitterness wringing at my stomach, but the savage grin remained on my
face. "First thing I did, partner."

Sully nodded and went on with his business at his locker.
"Thanks. That's the trouble with being recon. You're the
first one into the shit."

"Amen, brother."

"Funny you should say that," said Sully, sounding mildly amused as he shut his
locker. "I heard I was supposed to have a partner in this mess."



I smiled again. "Yeah. I'm Arcus Kail.
I'll be your mark-element."

---

Grrr... Dunno why Yuku insists on making that last line different from everything else.

Anywho, you guys go ahead and let me know what you think so I'll know whether or not to continue this madness. Stupid plot bunnies...

[Sweno]

not sure what a mark-element is supposed to be, but I'm intrigued enough to continue reading.

One minor gripe, you may want to have his run in with sully be on the way to/from the lockers. Requiring a coincidence (that they would know each other and be
in adjacent lockers) this early in the story when you don't need it is something to be avoided.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

[Black Aeronaut]

Mark-element is your marksman, the guy who's got th back of the point-element. In other words, Jake would engage up close and flush them out, and Arcus
would start to pick off targets of opportunity while keeping them off Jake's back.

As for the lockers, it just makes sense to me that they'd be together like that. Besides, when your passing each other by in a hurry to get things done, it
doesn't leave many chances for conversation. Sure, it adds a touch of plot tension by having one see the other but not have the chance to converse for a
while, but I find that to be annoying.

I'll give it some thought, though.

[Sweno]

If I'm remembering correctly the lockers were alphabetical.

And how about this: He notices Sully at the lockers and manages to sit next to him on the shuttle.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

[Black Aeronaut]

Workable. Time needed for further refinement. Just wish others would at least say something - even a casual 'I hate it' would be nice. (^_^

[Wiregeek]

I hate it.

now, keep in mind, this is only because I haven't placed Arcus Kail yet, and because I have yet to see Avatar...
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

[Happerry]

Looks good to me. But too little for me to have a real opinion on it,

[Black Aeronaut]

Arcus just wants the hurting to stop. Being on Earth everyday not only reminds him of his 'failure' but it also give him the sense that what he lost
was not worth it - the thing that he fought for is gone. Going to someplace like Pandora and eaking out a living as a hermit appeals to him.

Here's a little more material. It should give a bit more insight to the character. Note: using the Tac-50 for now since I honestly have no idea what
they'd use for a sniper rifle in this setting. Given the way magnetic fields mess with everything, railguns and plasma weapons are a no go.

---

The shuttle ride was uneventful. Sully and I
talked on the way down where we could. I found out about his story, about his brother.
That was some shit, but it's typical for life on Earth these days. He knew already what'd happened to
me. We may not have met, but news gets around in the Corps. The only reason he
didn't know for certain whether or not I avenged him back in Venezuela was because it was too hot and heavy to tell.
But I know without a doubt that I nailed the ass-wipe that got Sully, and Sully knew that I knew.

We donned our masks and waited through the droning of the load master. Finally, the tail gate dropped down, letting in a wave of hot, humid, and visibly noxious air.
It's a miracle we can actually extract oxygen from this stuff using these simple exo-packs. Thank you, RDA,
for the wonders of modern technology.

While Jake got his wheelchair out, I pulled out my own special luggage. I'd have helped him, but we Marines have our pride.

My own package was not something I trusted the hired goons to handle. Heavy weapons like AMP suits are their stock in trade. This was mine. I opened it just to make sure it was as I left it.

The McMillian Tac-50 was an antique by modern standards, but as the saying goes, they
don't make them like they used to. I gazed at it for only a moment, remembering the good times and the bad, the
close calls and the near misses.

Enough day dreaming. Sully was already rolling
out, so that meant I had to be as well. I snapped the case shut and hefted it over my shoulder opposite my ditty bag,
then marched out, making sure to give the load master a glare with my bad eye. Special-K my ass - wheelchair or none,
Sully could still probably take that guy. I'd personally seen him do it while fighting for his life.



"There's nothing like an old school safety brief to set your mind at ease,"
whispered Sully as we listened to the Colonel drone on about the dangers of Pandora. I scoffed and smiled at
that. Sully was the type of marine I admired; direct with just the right touch of deadpan humor.

Still, even though I read the RDA's manual, I expected that they left some things out
- all the better to snap up unwary peons of their operation here.

It doesn't take an idiot to see that there's some false advertising involved with
this operation. You only had to visit the psyche wards back on Earth to learn about it.
Hell, sometimes it was as easy as buying an old-before-their-time unobtainium miner a few drinks, and even then you didn't even need to get them
drunk. Not that you could afford it, anyways. By the time these men come back
from Pandora they're throwing back Singapore Sling like it was water.

The thing was that they wanted to talk about what they'd seen.

None of it was encouraging… for the average man, anyways.
It was daunting to say the least, though. The Na'vi were tough customers from the sound of things, and with
good reason, too. I'd done my homework back when I was a kid and this sounded an awful lot like history was
repeating itself: first with the Spaniards looking for gold, now with Humans looking for unobtainium.

Snipers are of a class unto themselves. We are the
ultimate hunters, striking without mercy or compassion. Sure, wrap it up however you like. You're protecting a convoy. You're guarding a VIP.
You're providing intel.

No.

You are there to kill, maim and destroy. You are
there to humiliate and demoralize. You are there to scare the fucking shit out of your enemies until they are so
paralyzed with fear that they lose all control of their bodily functions.

Make no mistake about it.

I knew the RDA had me here for a reason - you don't go picking up snipers just to pick
off a few natives. You do it for a specific reason. I wasn't sure what, but
I had a good idea. And they did a pretty good job in picking me. If they felt
that I was just a shell of the man that I was, then they'd be right.

But I still knew where my moral compass was pointing.

I wasn't going to say anything about it, though.
That's a good way of getting a round put through the back of your head.



Norman Spellman.

Another person I had to admit to liking, despite his slightly nervous tendency to
babble. You could tell the guy was only too happy to be here. Can't say
that I blame him, the place, from what little I'd send from the fence, was all that was advertised and then some. I
could only imagine what it must be like to be around the Na'vi.

"This is the bio-lab," he said offhand as we entered said place. "We'll be spending a lot of time here." I ignored him introducing himself to
the other scientists. None of my business, really - just another peon with a job to do… albeit a rather scary looking
peon.

Then we spotted the Avatars.

"Wow, they got big," said Jake, an edge of excited wonder in his voice.

"Yeah, they fully mature on the flight out," said Norm. He then gestured to the other tank. "Yours is over here."

I looked between the Avatar we had been admiring and then to Norman - what do you know?
Just like the manual said, they did resemble their drivers.

Jake's was no exception.

"He looks like my brother," he said unflinchingly.

"No," said Norman, correcting him gently, "he looks like
you." The two shared a smile, during which my opinion of Norman was cemented.
He was a good man for certain. I would have to do my best to show him how to survive.