Feel free to read along, but please don't respond unless you are one of those mentioned above.

Got it! Ty! Okay, character sheets?

Yep! I'll base mine off yours :)

Agent 'Rogue'

Adrien Romanov

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Russia

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25

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Male

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Bisexual

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Agent Rogue, best agent they have

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Black hair that's slightly curly, it's shaved on the sides, but on top stays curly

One of his eyes are pure white, while the other is a dark black

He is tall, a lot taller then average, 6'5-ish, slim build, built for being sneaky and quiet, but also strong. Toned muscles.

He has a cold seeming face, which is always rested as such. He mostly looks bored with everyone.

He has scars all around his neck, no one knows how he got them, he also has some on his back and hip, probably from a fight, and he also has many littering his stomach and shoulders.

He has a large tattoo of a vine running up his spine to the nape of his neck, he also has another of a dragon swirling up his leg, which is colored black and white, he also has one on his neck, above his collarbone, and above the curve of his neck, it had his Agent name on it, 'Agent 5F.'

For piercings, he has a tongue piercing that shows when he talks or sticks his tongue out at someone, and his ears are pierced, he usually wears two small hoops in the piercings, and all his jewelry is black or silver.

He also wears a sun and moon necklace. (A gift from his brother)

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- to smart for his own good

- doesn't really care for people, but he's not a horrible person, so he tries not to be TOO cold

- cold

- impatient

- Stealthy

- Quick thinking

- tactical

- quiet

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Mother - Dahlia - not to good of a relationship

Father - ???? - left when he was young

Sister - Hillary - horrible to him so he hates her

Brother - Xavier - Still to young to have changed yet, so he doesn't mind him

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None

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It takes a while

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Adrien grew up in Russia. With no father, a neglectful mother, and a sister who thought she ruled the world. He had a hard time struggling through life, until he turned 17, and decided to join the army. Except, the government had other ideas. They put him into a special operations training program, it was a classified mission, the SPTP program for short. Adrien and many other young men and women, were trained beyond their limit and pushed to be the best. They were trained harshly, too harshly. He was beaten if he disrespected, or if he simply couldn't get something down in time. He was forced to learn many things he did not want. He was forced to kill many people he didn't want to... he learned many many things, one of which, was speaking in different languages. Another was to shoot, and another was to throw knives. He learned many... very very many. Although many survived the field tests, some did not. This caused Adrien to begin to shut people out. He thought, that if he got close to anyone, they would die. When he was released from the training and sent to work in the field, AKA New York city, many things changed for him. He got a new brother, and surprisingly, a petty theif changed him. For better? Or for worse?

(MOST LIKELY WILL ADD MORE)

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Likes the colors black and green

Has a cat named Ginger

Actually has a soft side, no one has ever seen it

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- Gets migraines

- Was trained by a special forces operation

- a bit mindless, considering he was forced to participate

- Very good at catching or killing his targets

- works for the government

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Mask - metal, lightweight, has a fas mask in it, with a silencer, the silencer can be turned on and off, but only by the Operators.

Headset - Allows the Operators to speak into his ear and give him commands

Shirt - Basically just a shirt, black, tight shirt, long sleeved

Pants - Lots of pockets ig lol, blue, navy blue

Utility belt - holds his two pistols, knives, ammo reloads, and others

Wrist gauntlets - hidden knifes and can hide other things

Combat boots - more hidden knives, and good for running, climbing, and other in rough weather

<3

Lynx

Nikolai James Rysov

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22

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Male

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Bisexual

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Nik has a firm, lithe build. Slim, but still well-muscled and toned enough to be noticable. A runner's build.

He has slightly pale skin, but not unhealthily so. More of an ivory color than white. He has long, pale scars all across his back, but are very rarely seen by others. It is the only place he is scarred, but it is excessive.

He stands at 5'10-5'11, but if asked, he will always say he is 6'1.

He has very few tattoos. One of them is a Pheonix, the wingspan about the size of an index finger, on the side of his hip. The other is a ship-style compass- simple but elegant, directly in the center of his chest, above his sternum. Below it reads, in cursive, "Ad aspera per astra."

He has a slightly Elfish face- high, strong cheekbones, a similarly strong jaw. Thin lips that were not made to smile, and a constantly burdened look on his face. As though something is always bothering him, a nuisance always following.

He has forest green eyes, perhaps the most distinctive feature of his face. Lastly, he has wavy, dark chestnut hair that is about 3-4 inches long all over. It generally sweeps up from his face, but can occasionally droop over his forehead.

He has a single helix piercing on his left ear, which he prefers to accessorize with a gold ring, usually, when not... working.

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Nic is a roguish guy- very flirty, with essentially everyone, friend or foe. Joking to a possibly annoying extent, and quite talkative. He tends to get especially yappy when under the influence of his favorite brown liquor. He can, on occasion, become serious. Usually only when working. Everything else, however, is either a joking matter or beneath him.

He likes nothing more than ruffling other people. Particularly people who are hard to ruffle.

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For him to know, for others to not.

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Nik was born in Russia- though he has no accent, he still speaks the language fluently and can call it to mind at his leisure. His mother died when he was young- no siblings to be heard of. His Father was a kind man, once. So Nik was told. When his mother died, that kind man withered and a cruel one took his place. A cruel man who sold his young, smart son at the age of 14, renting him out to the highest bidder. If ever there was something Nik did wrong, a punishment in the form of a scar found it's way onto his back. Sometimes, he did nothing wrong, and was hit anyway.

The day Nik turned sixteen, that cruel man ceased to take another breath from this world. The neighbors think he was killed by a robber.

That's what they want to think.

He moved to America shortly after, a poor Russian teenager with only his wits and the thin clothes on his back. With his unique set of skills, he fell into high-end thievery. Occasionally, he even got specific orders. And, for better or for worse, he gained his own reputation on the streets of New York City.

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Nik has a problem with drinking. In excess. He is also quick to anger when people pick on those he loves.

He is extremely skilled in both fighting and thieving.

Would you be okay to start?

Adrien was sitting in a sort of... holding area. It really had nothing except a bed, a desk, his outfit, and the light above head. Almost nothing else. There was a window, thankfully. But it had bulletproof glass. He was basically a prisoner when not being used. He sat in silence on the bed, listening for anything, but all he could hear was the annoying buzz of the light and the hum of the air conditioning. Come to think of it... he wasn't cold, despite the room being so cold he could see his breath. He was practically numb to it at this point. He had adapted. So, he waited quietly to be called on. He vaguely wondered when that'd be. He rolled his shoulders back, considering he had no shirt on, all of the scars on his upper shoulders, chest, and stomach showed, as well as his toned muscles. He stared at the ground, green eyes on the floor. He soon blinked and looked away, staring at his suit, he wasn't aloud to touch it, unless he was called on for a job. It was almost all black, black compress shirt, long sleeved, a dark blue pant, that was loose but not to loose to get stuck, black combat boots, a utility belt, and a silver, metal mask hanging around the neck of the mannequin. It had a built in gas mask, engravings of the name 'Agent 5F' on it, and silencers. So he couldn't spill anything while out. He didn't actually mind it, it gave him an excuse not to talk to people, and if he wore the headset, that aloud operators to talk through, then he most certainly didn't have to talk to anyone. He looked out the window then up at the speaker built into the ceiling. Just waiting to be called out.

(Just add your own starting thing to your character :))

Dont worry about it))

Lynx was sitting boredly in the... interrogation room? He was in. There was a one sided glass window beside him, which he could see his reflection in, and a weirdly bright overhead swinging lamp. It made him warm and he wasn't the most comfortable, but he wasn't sweating so he supposed it wasn't all that unpleasant. He leaned back in the metal chair he was settled in, hands linked behind his head as he glanced around. He blew out a bored breath as he stared at the ceiling, just waiting.

Adrien looked up as the speaker called him to suit up. He did so, sliding on his gear as the wall swung open, revealing guns, knives, and really anything. He equipped himself with guns and knives, and put on his mask and headset, pulling up his hair. Out of his eyes. He then walked to the door and waited for it to open. It did and he was met with Detective Krin. She eyed him and looked up to look into his tired eyes.

"You're coming with me. You will guard me while I talk to a delinquent."

She said, Adrien nodded, since he couldn't speak. And walked with her. They got to the room and Adrien walked in behind her, she walked to a chair and sat down across from another boy, that looked to be his age, but shorter. Adrien walked to a corner and stood in it, facing the two. He looked tired, and with the mask on, made him seem all the more tired. He had bands around his wrists, that were obviously for restraining. They weren't cuffed together though, so that was nice. He watched the two as Detective Krin began talking, ignoring his presence.

"Alright kid, what's your name, age, and gender?"

Krin asked him the boy.

Lynx stayed lounged in his uncomfortable chair, feet crossed on the metal table in front of him as a woman and guard walked in. He let them walk into his line of sight rather than craning his neck to see them as the door opened and then shut, smiling slyly as they approached. He turned the wicked flash of teeth to the man in the corner, observing him in a slightly bemused way. Up, down, then on to the woman speaking to him. His smirk settled and he simply glanced around, eyebrows raising at the questions. "Hello to you too. Have you been shut away in this miserable little place so long you forgot proper manners?" He drawled scoldingly, bringing a hand down to brush a nonexistent piece of lint from his shoulder. "You're excused this once, I suppose." He shrugged, eyeing the man in the corner again for a brief moment. He sighed through his nose and looked at the woman for her questions. "My name is Fuck you, I am 72 years old, and as for my gender, I identify as your mother. Anything else?" He asked lightly.