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NAME: Captain Mason Escher
DESIGNATION: Cobalt, (formerly) Cobalt 001
SERIAL NUMBER: 6034-BD-3937
GENDER: Male
AGE: Mid-20s
HEIGHT: 6'1" (1.85 m)
WEIGHT: 200 lbs. (91 kg)
BIRTHPLACE: Monterey, California, USA
RESIDENCE: San Francisco, California, USA
IDENTIFYING MARKS: Solid black sclera, barcode markings on neck

Outside the exo-suit, Mason is still an imposing figure despite his affable personality. The augmentations done to him and the lifestyle he received before arriving in this reality have left him with several notable differences in appearance to a normal human. The gene treatments have left his eyes completely black except for the irises. The extreme training regimen Consortium soldiers underwent have left him with an athletic build and like all Consortium soldiers, he has an identifying barcode tattoo on the side of his neck.

Mason is an amiable person, always willing to listen and give advice, or party down as the demand is needed. Despite his somewhat startling appearance, he is truly a caring person, a trait that earned him both approval and recrimination from his military superiors in his old life.

In the field, the friendly persona gives way to a supremely focused and determined individual, one that gives the disciplined air of a lifelong soldier.

In a thousand years, in a very specific future, Earth has joined under a single global government, the Planetary Consortium, and is making rapid headway into becoming an galactic federation. This much Captain Mason Escher of the Consortium Marines can remember. The remainder of his past is largely jumbled memories of conflict, peace, rememberings of emotions, of fear, pain, triumphant joy.

Mason Escher remembers certain points of his life, though, such as his appointment to heading Cobalt Team, the highest ranking of the Special Tasks Force, an elite team of operatives operating with supralegal authority for the Consortium, working to preserve and improve global stability.

He doesn't remember the specifics of the mission that had him lead Cobalt Team into the field to safeguard the Warp generators, the latest research into FTL travel, but he does remember the assault on the research facility, and the activation of the prototype. He remembers the flash of blue light and when it cleared, seeing the Golden Gate Bridge, complete in its archaic construction, support pillars sunk into the waters of the strait.

Mason watched as his target entered the building, his security breaking into a fan formation. The man was working under a false name, and was wanted primarily for weapons smuggling, but the US government wanted to question him about some of his dealings with some mysterious figure operating out of Eastern Europe. Overall he was connected with about 50 other high profile criminals, crime syndicates and other generally unsavory people and groups.

He had been scoping out this building for a week, watching how the security team dealt with various hiccups he had worked up judge their operating procedure. The elevators couldn't fit the all the man's legitimate business associates and all the security personnel at the same time, so they were forced to split into two groups. The man, whose real name was Antonin Leikhov, had screamed at his security for an hour after discovering this, in private and then publicly allowed several of his team to accompany his business partners in the first elevator to the floor where they had been negotiating some agreement or another in shipping, Leikhov's public face for his illicit living. They had bought the line about it being to protect his partners, some clever line about needing people to hire him, but Mason saw it for what it was. Letting the civilians go first made them the first through whatever trap any of his enemies may have set and put an unacceptable amount of casualities in front of him and whoever wanted to get to him. The problem was, he was far too trusting in the security of the bullet-resistant doors and the intervening cover that was all that lay between him and the outside of the building before he entered the building.

Mason watched as the doors closed fully on the business executives before moving. Dropping over the balcony of the neighboring building, he landed rather gracefully on the ground for a man his size and the distance he had dropped. Hands quickly gliding over his weaponry ensuring they were secure and ready to move, he moved for the door. Picking up speed, he felt a grin spread over his face he moved faster and faster at the door, weaving through the concrete pillars designed to prevent vehicles from breaching the doors.

Clearing the security checkpoint at almost the same speed as traffic was allowed to pass along the streets, he flicked a wrist outward at the guard who had barely had time to exit his kiosk outside the door. Trusting in the barriers that made up the second half of his armor to lessen the force of what would have been a painful blow, he knocked the hapless man back into the safety of the booth, granting him cover from what was about to happen. Snapping his arms up in front of his face, Mason pushed off the ground, becoming airborne for just a second before slamming bodily into the glass, shields blossoming into blue life for a fraction of a second, dispersing the force across the whole of his body and most of the door itself.

NAME: Captain Mason Escher
DESIGNATION: Cobalt, (formerly) Cobalt 001
SERIAL NUMBER: 6034-BD-3937
GENDER: Male
AGE: Mid-20s
HEIGHT: 6'1" (1.85 m)
WEIGHT: 200 lbs. (91 kg)
BIRTHPLACE: Monterey, California, USA
RESIDENCE: San Francisco, California, USA
IDENTIFYING MARKS: Solid black sclera, barcode markings on neck

Outside the exo-suit, Mason is still an imposing figure despite his affable personality. The augmentations done to him and the lifestyle he received before arriving in this reality have left him with several notable differences in appearance to a normal human. The gene treatments have left his eyes completely black except for the irises. The extreme training regimen Consortium soldiers underwent have left him with an athletic build and like all Consortium soldiers, he has an identifying barcode tattoo on the side of his neck.

Mason is an amiable person, always willing to listen and give advice, or party down as the demand is needed. Despite his somewhat startling appearance, he is truly a caring person, a trait that earned him both approval and recrimination from his military superiors in his old life.

In the field, the friendly persona gives way to a supremely focused and determined individual, one that gives the disciplined air of a lifelong soldier.

In a thousand years, in a very specific future, Earth has joined under a single global government, the Planetary Consortium, and is making rapid headway into becoming an galactic federation. This much Captain Mason Escher of the Consortium Marines can remember. The remainder of his past is largely jumbled memories of conflict, peace, rememberings of emotions, of fear, pain, triumphant joy.

Mason Escher remembers certain points of his life, though, such as his appointment to heading Cobalt Team, the highest ranking of the Special Tasks Force, an elite team of operatives operating with supralegal authority for the Consortium, working to preserve and improve global stability.

He doesn't remember the specifics of the mission that had him lead Cobalt Team into the field to safeguard the Warp generators, the latest research into FTL travel, but he does remember the assault on the research facility, and the activation of the prototype. He remembers the flash of blue light and when it cleared, seeing the Golden Gate Bridge, complete in its archaic construction, support pillars sunk into the waters of the strait.

Mason watched as his target entered the building, his security breaking into a fan formation. The man was working under a false name, and was wanted primarily for weapons smuggling, but the US government wanted to question him about some of his dealings with some mysterious figure operating out of Eastern Europe. Overall he was connected with about 50 other high profile criminals, crime syndicates and other generally unsavory people and groups.

He had been scoping out this building for a week, watching how the security team dealt with various hiccups he had worked up judge their operating procedure. The elevators couldn't fit the all the man's legitimate business associates and all the security personnel at the same time, so they were forced to split into two groups. The man, whose real name was Antonin Leikhov, had screamed at his security for an hour after discovering this, in private and then publicly allowed several of his team to accompany his business partners in the first elevator to the floor where they had been negotiating some agreement or another in shipping, Leikhov's public face for his illicit living. They had bought the line about it being to protect his partners, some clever line about needing people to hire him, but Mason saw it for what it was. Letting the civilians go first made them the first through whatever trap any of his enemies may have set and put an unacceptable amount of casualities in front of him and whoever wanted to get to him. The problem was, he was far too trusting in the security of the bullet-resistant doors and the intervening cover that was all that lay between him and the outside of the building before he entered the building.

Mason watched as the doors closed fully on the business executives before moving. Dropping over the balcony of the neighboring building, he landed rather gracefully on the ground for a man his size and the distance he had dropped. Hands quickly gliding over his weaponry ensuring they were secure and ready to move, he moved for the door. Picking up speed, he felt a grin spread over his face he moved faster and faster at the door, weaving through the concrete pillars designed to prevent vehicles from breaching the doors.

Clearing the security checkpoint at almost the same speed as traffic was allowed to pass along the streets, he flicked a wrist outward at the guard who had barely had time to exit his kiosk outside the door. Trusting in the barriers that made up the second half of his armor to lessen the force of what would have been a painful blow, he knocked the hapless man back into the safety of the booth, granting him cover from what was about to happen. Snapping his arms up in front of his face, Mason pushed off the ground, becoming airborne for just a second before slamming bodily into the glass, shields blossoming into blue life for a fraction of a second, dispersing the force across the whole of his body and most of the door itself.

NAME: Captain Mason Escher
DESIGNATION: Cobalt, (formerly) Cobalt 001
SERIAL NUMBER: 6034-BD-3937
GENDER: Male
AGE: Mid-20s
HEIGHT: 6'1" (1.85 m)
WEIGHT: 200 lbs. (91 kg)
BIRTHPLACE: Monterey, California, USA
RESIDENCE: San Francisco, California, USA
IDENTIFYING MARKS: Solid black sclera, barcode markings on neck

Outside the exo-suit, Mason is still an imposing figure despite his affable personality. The augmentations done to him and the lifestyle he received before arriving in this reality have left him with several notable differences in appearance to a normal human. The gene treatments have left his eyes completely black except for the irises. The extreme training regimen Consortium soldiers underwent have left him with an athletic build and like all Consortium soldiers, he has an identifying barcode tattoo on the side of his neck.

Mason is an amiable person, always willing to listen and give advice, or party down as the demand is needed. Despite his somewhat startling appearance, he is truly a caring person, a trait that earned him both approval and recrimination from his military superiors in his old life.

In the field, the friendly persona gives way to a supremely focused and determined individual, one that gives the disciplined air of a lifelong soldier.

In a thousand years, in a very specific future, Earth has joined under a single global government, the Planetary Consortium, and is making rapid headway into becoming an galactic federation. This much Captain Mason Escher of the Consortium Marines can remember. The remainder of his past is largely jumbled memories of conflict, peace, rememberings of emotions, of fear, pain, triumphant joy.

Mason Escher remembers certain points of his life, though, such as his appointment to heading Cobalt Team, the highest ranking of the Special Tasks Force, an elite team of operatives operating with supralegal authority for the Consortium, working to preserve and improve global stability.

He doesn't remember the specifics of the mission that had him lead Cobalt Team into the field to safeguard the Warp generators, the latest research into FTL travel, but he does remember the assault on the research facility, and the activation of the prototype. He remembers the flash of blue light and when it cleared, seeing the Golden Gate Bridge, complete in its archaic construction, support pillars sunk into the waters of the strait.

Mason watched as his target entered the building, his security breaking into a fan formation. The man was working under a false name, and was wanted primarily for weapons smuggling, but the US government wanted to question him about some of his dealings with some mysterious figure operating out of Eastern Europe. Overall he was connected with about 50 other high profile criminals, crime syndicates and other generally unsavory people and groups.

He had been scoping out this building for a week, watching how the security team dealt with various hiccups he had worked up judge their operating procedure. The elevators couldn't fit the all the man's legitimate business associates and all the security personnel at the same time, so they were forced to split into two groups. The man, whose real name was Antonin Leikhov, had screamed at his security for an hour after discovering this, in private and then publicly allowed several of his team to accompany his business partners in the first elevator to the floor where they had been negotiating some agreement or another in shipping, Leikhov's public face for his illicit living. They had bought the line about it being to protect his partners, some clever line about needing people to hire him, but Mason saw it for what it was. Letting the civilians go first made them the first through whatever trap any of his enemies may have set and put an unacceptable amount of casualities in front of him and whoever wanted to get to him. The problem was, he was far too trusting in the security of the bullet-resistant doors and the intervening cover that was all that lay between him and the outside of the building before he entered the building.

Mason watched as the doors closed fully on the business executives before moving. Dropping over the balcony of the neighboring building, he landed rather gracefully on the ground for a man his size and the distance he had dropped. Hands quickly gliding over his weaponry ensuring they were secure and ready to move, he moved for the door. Picking up speed, he felt a grin spread over his face he moved faster and faster at the door, weaving through the concrete pillars designed to prevent vehicles from breaching the doors.

Clearing the security checkpoint at almost the same speed as traffic was allowed to pass along the streets, he flicked a wrist outward at the guard who had barely had time to exit his kiosk outside the door. Trusting in the barriers that made up the second half of his armor to lessen the force of what would have been a painful blow, he knocked the hapless man back into the safety of the booth, granting him cover from what was about to happen. Snapping his arms up in front of his face, Mason pushed off the ground, becoming airborne for just a second before slamming bodily into the glass, shields blossoming into blue life for a fraction of a second, dispersing the force across the whole of his body and most of the door itself.

NAME: Captain Mason Escher
DESIGNATION: Cobalt, (formerly) Cobalt 001
SERIAL NUMBER: 6034-BD-3937
GENDER: Male
AGE: Mid-20s
HEIGHT: 6'1" (1.85 m)
WEIGHT: 200 lbs. (91 kg)
BIRTHPLACE: Monterey, California, USA
RESIDENCE: San Francisco, California, USA
IDENTIFYING MARKS: Solid black sclera, barcode markings on neck

Outside the exo-suit, Mason is still an imposing figure despite his affable personality. The augmentations done to him and the lifestyle he received before arriving in this reality have left him with several notable differences in appearance to a normal human. The gene treatments have left his eyes completely black except for the irises. The extreme training regimen Consortium soldiers underwent have left him with an athletic build and like all Consortium soldiers, he has an identifying barcode tattoo on the side of his neck.

Mason is an amiable person, always willing to listen and give advice, or party down as the demand is needed. Despite his somewhat startling appearance, he is truly a caring person, a trait that earned him both approval and recrimination from his military superiors in his old life.

In the field, the friendly persona gives way to a supremely focused and determined individual, one that gives the disciplined air of a lifelong soldier.

In a thousand years, in a very specific future, Earth has joined under a single global government, the Planetary Consortium, and is making rapid headway into becoming an galactic federation. This much Captain Mason Escher of the Consortium Marines can remember. The remainder of his past is largely jumbled memories of conflict, peace, rememberings of emotions, of fear, pain, triumphant joy.

Mason Escher remembers certain points of his life, though, such as his appointment to heading Cobalt Team, the highest ranking of the Special Tasks Force, an elite team of operatives operating with supralegal authority for the Consortium, working to preserve and improve global stability.

He doesn't remember the specifics of the mission that had him lead Cobalt Team into the field to safeguard the Warp generators, the latest research into FTL travel, but he does remember the assault on the research facility, and the activation of the prototype. He remembers the flash of blue light and when it cleared, seeing the Golden Gate Bridge, complete in its archaic construction, support pillars sunk into the waters of the strait.

Mason watched as his target entered the building, his security breaking into a fan formation. The man was working under a false name, and was wanted primarily for weapons smuggling, but the US government wanted to question him about some of his dealings with some mysterious figure operating out of Eastern Europe. Overall he was connected with about 50 other high profile criminals, crime syndicates and other generally unsavory people and groups.

He had been scoping out this building for a week, watching how the security team dealt with various hiccups he had worked up judge their operating procedure. The elevators couldn't fit the all the man's legitimate business associates and all the security personnel at the same time, so they were forced to split into two groups. The man, whose real name was Antonin Leikhov, had screamed at his security for an hour after discovering this, in private and then publicly allowed several of his team to accompany his business partners in the first elevator to the floor where they had been negotiating some agreement or another in shipping, Leikhov's public face for his illicit living. They had bought the line about it being to protect his partners, some clever line about needing people to hire him, but Mason saw it for what it was. Letting the civilians go first made them the first through whatever trap any of his enemies may have set and put an unacceptable amount of casualities in front of him and whoever wanted to get to him. The problem was, he was far too trusting in the security of the bullet-resistant doors and the intervening cover that was all that lay between him and the outside of the building before he entered the building.

Mason watched as the doors closed fully on the business executives before moving. Dropping over the balcony of the neighboring building, he landed rather gracefully on the ground for a man his size and the distance he had dropped. Hands quickly gliding over his weaponry ensuring they were secure and ready to move, he moved for the door. Picking up speed, he felt a grin spread over his face he moved faster and faster at the door, weaving through the concrete pillars designed to prevent vehicles from breaching the doors.

Clearing the security checkpoint at almost the same speed as traffic was allowed to pass along the streets, he flicked a wrist outward at the guard who had barely had time to exit his kiosk outside the door. Trusting in the barriers that made up the second half of his armor to lessen the force of what would have been a painful blow, he knocked the hapless man back into the safety of the booth, granting him cover from what was about to happen. Snapping his arms up in front of his face, Mason pushed off the ground, becoming airborne for just a second before slamming bodily into the glass, shields blossoming into blue life for a fraction of a second, dispersing the force across the whole of his body and most of the door itself.

Biometrics

NAME: Captain Mason Escher
DESIGNATION: Cobalt, (formerly) Cobalt 001
SERIAL NUMBER: 6034-BD-3937
GENDER: Male
AGE: Mid-20s
HEIGHT: 6'1" (1.85 m)
WEIGHT: 200 lbs. (91 kg)
BIRTHPLACE: Monterey, California, USA
RESIDENCE: San Francisco, California, USA
IDENTIFYING MARKS: Solid black sclera, barcode markings on neck

Outside the exo-suit, Mason is still an imposing figure despite his affable personality. The augmentations done to him and the lifestyle he received before arriving in this reality have left him with several notable differences in appearance to a normal human. The gene treatments have left his eyes completely black except for the irises. The extreme training regimen Consortium soldiers underwent have left him with an athletic build and like all Consortium soldiers, he has an identifying barcode tattoo on the side of his neck.

Mason is an amiable person, always willing to listen and give advice, or party down as the demand is needed. Despite his somewhat startling appearance, he is truly a caring person, a trait that earned him both approval and recrimination from his military superiors in his old life.

In the field, the friendly persona gives way to a supremely focused and determined individual, one that gives the disciplined air of a lifelong soldier.

In a thousand years, in a very specific future, Earth has joined under a single global government, the Planetary Consortium, and is making rapid headway into becoming an galactic federation. This much Captain Mason Escher of the Consortium Marines can remember. The remainder of his past is largely jumbled memories of conflict, peace, rememberings of emotions, of fear, pain, triumphant joy.

Mason Escher remembers certain points of his life, though, such as his appointment to heading Cobalt Team, the highest ranking of the Special Tasks Force, an elite team of operatives operating with supralegal authority for the Consortium, working to preserve and improve global stability.

He doesn't remember the specifics of the mission that had him lead Cobalt Team into the field to safeguard the Warp generators, the latest research into FTL travel, but he does remember the assault on the research facility, and the activation of the prototype. He remembers the flash of blue light and when it cleared, seeing the Golden Gate Bridge, complete in its archaic construction, support pillars sunk into the waters of the strait.

Mason watched as his target entered the building, his security breaking into a fan formation. The man was working under a false name, and was wanted primarily for weapons smuggling, but the US government wanted to question him about some of his dealings with some mysterious figure operating out of Eastern Europe. Overall he was connected with about 50 other high profile criminals, crime syndicates and other generally unsavory people and groups.

He had been scoping out this building for a week, watching how the security team dealt with various hiccups he had worked up judge their operating procedure. The elevators couldn't fit the all the man's legitimate business associates and all the security personnel at the same time, so they were forced to split into two groups. The man, whose real name was Antonin Leikhov, had screamed at his security for an hour after discovering this, in private and then publicly allowed several of his team to accompany his business partners in the first elevator to the floor where they had been negotiating some agreement or another in shipping, Leikhov's public face for his illicit living. They had bought the line about it being to protect his partners, some clever line about needing people to hire him, but Mason saw it for what it was. Letting the civilians go first made them the first through whatever trap any of his enemies may have set and put an unacceptable amount of casualities in front of him and whoever wanted to get to him. The problem was, he was far too trusting in the security of the bullet-resistant doors and the intervening cover that was all that lay between him and the outside of the building before he entered the building.

Mason watched as the doors closed fully on the business executives before moving. Dropping over the balcony of the neighboring building, he landed rather gracefully on the ground for a man his size and the distance he had dropped. Hands quickly gliding over his weaponry ensuring they were secure and ready to move, he moved for the door. Picking up speed, he felt a grin spread over his face he moved faster and faster at the door, weaving through the concrete pillars designed to prevent vehicles from breaching the doors.

Clearing the security checkpoint at almost the same speed as traffic was allowed to pass along the streets, he flicked a wrist outward at the guard who had barely had time to exit his kiosk outside the door. Trusting in the barriers that made up the second half of his armor to lessen the force of what would have been a painful blow, he knocked the hapless man back into the safety of the booth, granting him cover from what was about to happen. Snapping his arms up in front of his face, Mason pushed off the ground, becoming airborne for just a second before slamming bodily into the glass, shields blossoming into blue life for a fraction of a second, dispersing the force across the whole of his body and most of the door itself.