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Oliveira, Marco
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Oliveira, Marco
NAME:
Marco Cornelius Oliveira
AGE:
42 years old
GENDER:
Male
NATIONALITY:
Brazillian
BIRTHPLACE:
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
BIRTHDATE:
October 5th, 1970
PICTURE:
- Spoiler:
*********
PERSONAL DETAILS
DESCRIPTION:
A sculpted model of masculinity, Marco is truly someone who takes pride in keeping in intense shape. Of course, his high-octane lifestyle naturally accommodates this, allowing him to keep up muscle mass with minimal organized workout sessions. Despite his toned physique, Oliveira is a rather short for a fully grown man, only standing at a mere five foot eleven.
Born of Brazilian blood, Marco naturally has a fine tanned skin, though heavily scarred. The most notable one of these scars is a one that spans from the top of his left eyebrow to his temple, which he claims was received from a Hellsprinter in one of his first Inferis shifts. His retinas are a dark brown color, which finely compliments his skin tone. To top it off, Marco hasn't changed his hairstyle since he joined the military, which is a simple mohawk that usually looks like it needs a damn trim. Speaking of needing a trim, he often sports a rugged goatee.
The Brazilian's clothing choices are fairly simple, going against the usual standard of being a well dressed crime boss. Realism could be a lot more intimidating than flashiness, anyway. He often sports a ragged red tank top with several old necklaces, complimented by dark colored cargo pants and topped off with a pair of standard issued combat boots. He is more than often carrying at least three to four different weapons, depending on the situation that he's in.
PERSONALITY:
Marco has a charming air to him, despite his behavior and mannerisms, which would say something completely different. Something about his rugged physique and deep ensuring voice draws people to him. He doesn't often have to work very hard to gain fanatic followers, often able to convince them after a simple conversation to do what he asks. That being said, Oliveira has always been a popular number amongst the ladies.
One can't lead an army on respect alone. The men who do not do what Marco asks the first time get to see a different side of him. That "first time" being very literal as the Brazillian doesn't have much of a patience. He views humans as disposable and replaceable, besides for himself, of course. Combine these two attributes and you get a man who shoots first and asks questions later as the classic saying goes.
Spending three and a half years by yourself in the jungle can really mess with somebody's head, even after returning to civilization. Being isolated actually changed Marco's brain activity to a level that's different than most human beings. he is extremely sensitive to stress, and often reacts violently and unpredictably to it on a moment's notice. He has trouble having small talk without going off on a nonsensical tagent.
Going crazy wasn't all that Oliveira did in the jungle, as productive as that is. He learned how to live of fof the land, hunting and fishing for his own food while building sturdy shelters from the dirt and trees. Combining that with a few years of military training and a little bit of jungle madness and yoyu have a natural born hunter.
HISTORY:
- Childhood:
- "Some are born unlucky, they say. Marco was definitely one of these, not knowing either of his birth-parents, or any parents, for that matter. many said his mother was a whore, and his father a drifting drug addict. He never knew either of them and was forced to live on the harsh streets of Rio's flavelas. And there was only one way to successfully do this in Brazil: stealing.
By the mere age of six years old, Marco was a successful pickpocket, banding together with other abandoned and homeless kids who shared the worldwide goal of surviving. I happened to be one of these children. Soon, young Oliveira rose to the tops of these children, becoming their unofficial leader by age twelve. He was becoming ambitious, intensely studying so that he could learn to do simple things such as read and write, teaching himself the most basic of skills. He never bothered to read up on history. What was the point, he always said, he'd just make his own history.
By age sixteen, he was already accepting shady jobs and odd employment from Rio's numerous drug cartels, often smuggling merchandise for them. I remember one assignment, well not really, as Marco was too paranoid to share any information with me. He simply handed me something I thought I would never have to use, a stolen .9mm pistol and told me to back him up. We went through the normal protocols and checkpoints we did during our smuggling runs, so I assumed it to be so.
I was wrong. We arrived in an abandoned warehouse to meet a group of shifty looking individuals, none of them armed. They asked if we were, in which Marco pushe dme and told them no as if they were stupid. It looked as if we were making a trade, as the mysterious individuals tossed Marco a large suitcase, obviously heavy from it's illegal contents. The question came soon after. Where was the money? It was all coming together, and he didn't even need to tell me. I soon felt my hand reaching for the stolen firearm as my partner had already fired off several shots into their speaker's chest, and with my help, they were down in seconds. I couldn't believe it.
We couldn't believe it. Marco broke out in a sweat after the kills, going as far as violently pistol whipping me when I asked what was really going on. We ran, ran far away from that place. That was the last day I actually say Marco, now that I think about it, but definitely not the last day I have heard about him. I couldn't understand the last words he said to me, but he murmured something about wanting to drastically change his life." - CLASSIFIED
- Military Career:
- "Oliveira was a good soldier. Always obeyed orders, always got the job done. He lived a rough childhood or something, wanted to get away form it all. I don't know, it's not something he really cared to talk about. He was sorta the silent type, not like the other kids that joined the cause, all wide-eyed and scared and whatnot. No, Marco was already scarred, had already seen battle. Had already tasted blood. Maybe that's what made him such a damn good soldier.
He rarely ever slept as he was always doing something like calibrating his weapons or practicing his aim. Hell, I probably should've did this, probably would've beena better shot. For a solid two years, our squad did nothing but a series of small supply run missions. It wasn't the right kind of job for the men I commanded, I and they all knew it. But we followed orders. We did the errand boy work. Finally, after two years, we got a real mission.
It was a simple mission. One of the local cartels was holding several civilians hostage in a well guarded hotel, and we had to get them out. We stormed the top fire exit to their surprise, and I don't think I got to fire but maybe two or three shots. All that late night training seemed to pay off. With each pull of his trigger, a body hit the ground. Marco was truly impressive. And ruthless. Even after the scumbags surrendered and laid down their arms, he proceeded to kill them. No survivors. I didn't report this to command, maybe I should have.
It wasn't long after our little success that missions like these were part of our common agenda. We hit the cartel frequently, disrupting many of their operations, and even shutting some of the smaller ones down completely. We even hit one of the larger cartels at their base of operations, a very bloody and later classified affair. I don't really want to go into it anymore than that.
Anyways, we have yet another mission in the morning, supposed to go clear out a major plantation on one of the islands. Seems like a strange place for the cartel to set up, but they're always coming up with new things. It's supposed to be our biggest yet." - Recovered page of Commander Murano's Journal
- Stranded:
Month I Day II
It looks like backup just ain't coming, and I don't think the boys realize this. They're using our only supplies foolishly and wastefully, trying to split it amongst the all of of us in a ludicrous manner. We all know that food will only last but a couple weeks. Our former commander, Murano, is a fucking tool. We won't survive going by the book. the book ditched us, left us to to rot. The sooner everyone fucking realizes this, the sooner we'll get the hell off this island.
I'm frustrated with this whole situation. I'm gonna try to knock some damn sense into them tomorrow, but if they don't come through, I'm leaving them behind. They'll only slow me down.
Month I DayIIII
They didn't listen to me. They called me crazy, and surely command was coming back for us. Surely command would never ditch us. I hit Murano for the first time, smacked him right on his damn jaw. That felt so damn good and it was such a long time coming. he didn't know what to do, but one of the younger privates charged at me with his combat knife like he was going to do something. In self defense, of course, I had to turn it against him, cutting his neck open. I've been spending the last few days delving into the jungle. It's completely untouched by man here, I've never seen anything like it. Well, if you're into that kinda stuff, I guess.
I stole the private's pack, but it seems he already finished off most of the edibles. Still, I have a knife, a pistol, and a few rounds left. Tomorrow the hunt will begin.
Month II DayIIII
Another one of the privates got caught up in one of my rope cage traps, originally made for capturing game. Well, I suppose it's all game in the end, beast or man. He had a lot more supplies than the last one, and his head made an excellent topper for a post outside of camp, surely that would deter them from attempting to hit me at night. What the fuck am I doing? Why is this all so easy?
I found some strange fruit in the jungle today. I think I may consume it after this damned log. it looks pretty good, don't know if it's safe, also don't really give two shits at this point.
Month III DayIIIIIIII
I thought I wrote in this thing yesterday? Days are starting to make less and less sense, it's like they're turning into weeks. I haven't come into contact with the rest of my squad yet, though I think I found a trail to their main camp. Footprints, dried blood, cigarette butts, yes, they're close. So fucking close, I can smell the sweat and jungle on their filthy skin. This is greatest hunt of my life, the adrenaline is like nothing I have ever experienced before.
Tomorrow I take a path I found that should lead straight to their camp. I'll attack from the trees, as silently as possible. I'm out of ammo, and this is my last fuckin' shot at getting some more, so this has to count. Count. Count. Coconuts. I fucking hate coconuts, you know? They taste like ass and they're hard as rocks. Rocks. That, and my blade's been thirsting for Murano's throat for quite some time now. The blood's flowing so fast, so fast, so fast, so fast... Etched in forty three times
Month IIII DayIIIIIIII
"Oh right, this fucking thing. I threw it out, I guess it came back to me because I just found it washed up on shore. Might as well write in it again, eh? Why the fuck not? Who the fuck else do I have to talk to? I don't even know if this date is right. It probably is. It probably isn't.
Murano got away. I lost the fucking trail, I can't find him. At this point, i really don't give two shits about that anymore. The jungle probably devoured him, or maybe command actually did come and pick him up, who the hell knows. Who the hell cares.
I remember why I threw this thing away."
- Cartel Initiation:
"I found the man laying face down on one of Brazil's lesser known beachheads during a run. I don't know what made me pick him up, I mean, as far as I could tell at that time he was dead. Either way, we brought him on board, and was that an experience. The scuffy deserter killed two of my men with his bare hands before I could get somebody to properly restrain him! How savage and uncivilized. He was exactly what we needed. But did he truly have what it takes? There was only one way to find out. There was only one way at all. Either he would join us and go through initiation, or we would throw him to the sharks.
It was simple, he quickly choose the former option. So there he was, marco he said his name was, on my boat and back to my headquarters. An extravagent mansion it was, I could go on for hours on it's fine ivory decorations and fine endangered fur, but that would contract from the story at hand.
I had captured two citizens earlier that week, already tortured and beaten, they provided for excellent sacrifice. The initiation was simple, I would tell Marco their names and jobs, and then he would end their innocent lives and ruin a couple families. No hard feelings, really. Ah, I recall this memory so vividly...
"Fabiana Alencar. A good customer of ours, and today she will be repaying her debt." I said in my ever so enchanting voice, introducing our first contender. She was an aged woman. "Three...no! ttwo children, right?" My new apprentice shoved the pistol in her face, cramming it inbetween her eyes. She was hopelessly whimpering and crying, as one would expect from a dying mother. It was one of my favorite reactions. Without saying a word, my apprentice shot her in the head.
"Ah, good thing the father will be around for that, eh?" Unfortnately, the next victim was indeed the father, a homeless man who's name had been all but long forgotten. "Ah...Mr. Alencar...homewrecker, drunk, thief, nobody will even care if you're gone." The second shot was fired before I could finish my speech, and the killer finally spoke. "Is it fucking done now? A lot of damn talking for some simple work." Oh yes, he was perfect. The bodies? No problem. Drug overdose for the girl, and well, we'd just ditch the other in a dump somewhere.
He would have to be.
My cancer has gotten worse, I may not live much longer. I had a damn good run, really, I did, but now it was time to hand over the "business". Simply handing the cartel to Marco was not what I am planning to do, as he must earn it from me. He must pry it out o fmy cold bloody hands. The hands they sweat and dirtied themselves time and time again for this foresaken business. I will attempt to kill Marco." -[CLASSIFIED], Former Cartel Ringleader, deathletter.
*********
FACTION:
Rio Cartel, Leader.
REAL-LIFE SKILLS:
[ FIREARMS PROFESSIONAL ] Marco has lived it rough his entire life, and has encountered a fair share of both legal and illegal firearms. He can pick up almost any weapon of this type and learn how to fire it quickly, even if he hasn't seen that particular type of gun before. That being said, not only can he shoot guns, he can also aim guns with deadly accuracy.
[ MARTIAL ARTS ] Marco has lived a long, brutal military style life. During his quest to find an advantage over his opponents, he learned a few different type of martial arts. He fully understand Ninjutsu and it's many sword and stealth tactics, along with a good grasp over the judo style. The veteran also learned Southern Dragon Kung Fu and Hung Ga, so he's a force to be reckoned with, even at close range.
[ NATURAL LEADER ] Oliveira is the type of man you would follow to the end of the Earth and leap off of it on his command. He know show to lead an army, and he knows how to organize criminals. It's almost as he emits an aura of respect and manliness. Or perhaps people are just so damn afraid of him that they learn their place quickly. Those who don't, well, they make good examples of why they should.
[ JUNGLE FEVER - PROS ] Marco has spent over three and half years of his life stranded on a remote island off of the eastern Brazilian coast. With no technology and no help, he learned to survive off of the land with very minimal resources. He's quite familiar with plants, animals, and finding direction and has mastered a large number of survival skills. On a more lethal scale, he is an excellent hunter and tracker, being able to pick up a trail from miles away with little evidence. It should be noted that he is also very dangerous with a hunting knife or machete.
INFERIS SKILLS:
[ THOUSAND BULLET ] For whatever strange reason or miracle of physics, Marco gains additional ammunition for all of the weapons he currently has equipped in Inferis. While his ammo seems infinite, it is indeed finite to a thousand rounds per gun, true to the skill's name.
[ ACCEL TRIGGER ] Marco gains the ability to fire his guns almost two frames as fast as he can on Earth, allowing him to turn almost every firearm into a semi-automatic weapon. It's unknown how exactly this occurs, but it's theorized that he gains additional muscles in his fingers, allowing him to slam the trigger more quickly.
WEAKNESSES:
[ "MAGIC" ] Marco limits his travels in Inferis, considering it to be "none of his damn business" and instead focusing on Earth affairs. Because of this, he is still relatively unfamiliar with Apparatus, Inferis Morph, Augment, and Evocation skills, including his own. One can usually defeat him fairly easy through the use of these skills. He's currently putting a little more time and research into this area because of this, but still doesn't consider it to be all that important. Marco is familiar with Amalgams, as they appear on Earth.
[ LEARNING CURVE ] Did I mention Marco isn't familiar with his own Evocations? His Evocations will often fail to activate or miss, as he's barely trained in the area. He has a very basic understanding of what he can do, but it doesn't go much further than that. Once again, he is attempting to get a better grasp of these abilities, but just doesn't put that much effort into it.
[ JUNGLE FEVER - CONS ] Marco has spent over three and half years of his life stranded on a remote island off of the eastern Brazilian coast. That being said, he spent most of this time alone, isolating himself from his former squadmates. The isolation got to Oliveira, just as it would to anybody. He possesses a "survival of the fittest" attitude and will often jump to murder as a solution over easier options. this makes him unstable and intimidating to talk to, which is not always a good thing when you're trying to have a conversation.
COLOURS:
Marco speaks primarily Portuguese (darkorange), but he also is capable of speaking English (black) and Spanish (orange) fluently. Through his brief studies, he can also speak limited Latin (scarlet) and Demonic (red).
TRIVIA:
> In an attempt to calm down his high octane nerves, Marco has turned to his own merchandise a few times. He only tried cocaine once, which led to the murders of his most trusted and valuable men, burning of over a million of inventory, and wrecking his favorite ride. That being said, he much prefers marijuana.
> Marco happens to be a fan of classic metal, and enjoys bands such as Alice In Chains, Metallica, Iron Maiden, Montley Crue, and assorted others.
> He hasn't exactly had much time on the roads, so Marco is actually a poor driver in any sort of vehicle. He isn't aware of any traffic laws or limits, and often makes somebody else drive for him due to this.
*********
USER DETAILS
ALIAS:
Al or Alastor
OTHER CHARACTERS:
Eris, Asmodeus
ROLEPLAY HISTORY:
8 years or so.
FACECLAIM:
- Code:
[b]FARCRY 3[/b] :: [b]VAAS MONTENEGRO[/b]
CUSTOM RANK:
VOX SILVESTRI
Last edited by Marco Oliveira on Sat Aug 03, 2013 8:22 am; edited 2 times in total
Marco Oliveira- VOX SILVESTRI
- Posts : 7
Join date : 2013-05-17
Location : 'Rio
Case File
Power Level: 1
Character Faction: Rio Cartel
Player: Al
Re: Oliveira, Marco
Archive date is June 4th.
Lazarus Carter- RISING CRESCENDO
(Founder) - Posts : 979
Join date : 2013-04-18
Age : 28
Location : Washington D.C. or London
Case File
Power Level: 3
Character Faction: Nephilim
Player: Ross
Re: Oliveira, Marco
Archive date extended to June 17th at Al's behest.
Lazarus Carter- RISING CRESCENDO
(Founder) - Posts : 979
Join date : 2013-04-18
Age : 28
Location : Washington D.C. or London
Case File
Power Level: 3
Character Faction: Nephilim
Player: Ross
Re: Oliveira, Marco
Once more extended - for a final time hopefully - to July 1st.
Lazarus Carter- RISING CRESCENDO
(Founder) - Posts : 979
Join date : 2013-04-18
Age : 28
Location : Washington D.C. or London
Case File
Power Level: 3
Character Faction: Nephilim
Player: Ross
Re: Oliveira, Marco
APPROVED
Stellar example of "how to make a drug baron asshole". Let's get Marco thrown right into action.
Lazarus Carter- RISING CRESCENDO
(Founder) - Posts : 979
Join date : 2013-04-18
Age : 28
Location : Washington D.C. or London
Case File
Power Level: 3
Character Faction: Nephilim
Player: Ross
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