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- Sensitive Topic
Role : Overseer Assistant
PAC Overview :
OOC Content : Konstantine is the former RSD Executive Joesef Azere, who was promoted to OSA due to his consistent and close RSD work with the higher-ups on Floor 3. All biotic-modification lore is present in past posts, such as the eyes and legs. Custom face models like in the first PAC request were dropped long ago for optimization. All present PAC models are vanilla Garry's Mod or standard CN content. Later content of the lore post is related to events that have physically happened in LARP, such as the cloning references and SCP-9242 incident.
Lore :
Biomechanical engineering and prosthetic designing wasn't really his forte, even in his Executive. But as he fitted the newly fabricated metal strips, the freshly woven wiring conduits, and the finely tuned servos into the crude shapes of legs, Konstantine was proving himself to be a quick learner out of necessity. He pushed back from the table in his rolling office chair, and pulled one of the legs down to the level of one of his freshly cauterized leg stubs. He paused, coughing and shivering as his lungs struggled. It’s been getting worse over the week. Konstantine settled himself and affixed the legs properly. The new versions of these legs were heavier, no doubt. But they featured a more responsive reaction to his movements. They also sported a more...practical design for public appearances. Being so late in Site-65, he had the privacy of a back room in the medical center to walk about and test these new appendages. As he walked, he gently nudged one of his freshly discarded legs aside out of the pathway. They were dead weight now, just as much as they were before. Ever since he was released from that tank of Immortal Flesh slurry, his body just didn’t feel quite right, not even the very limbs he used for propulsion. Which was funny, willingly going back to how his legs were before… before…the memory was hazy. He remembered fleeing something with Benrey and Mori. Then the sudden flash, and standing alone in a hallway made of brick with furniture protruding from surfaces…then the flash of flopping out of the tank from The Long Sleep. O5-2 had been wary of Konstantine’s presence ever since he had awoken from the Long Sleep. So maybe if he got back to his good ol’ days, he might be more comfortable! He stumbled, falling into a coughing fit once again. He grabbed his respirator mask and fixed it on. It was designed to look like a generic respirator, though the filtration fed Konstantine on a slow steady dispersal of Albuterol. It wasn’t long-term by any means, but it lessened the beartrap on his constricting airways. Ever since the Long Sleep, his it never felt properly comfortable to breath.
He looked over the papers he had drawn up about the leg augments. As he read back over the limitations and the parameters of his new legs, a drop of liquid fell onto the paper. It stained the ink, spreading around. Konstantine brought a hand up to his left eye. His fingers touched against something wet. His eyes were doing it again. Leaking, strained from hours of him once again forgetting to blink. Ever since he came back from the Long Sleep, his eyes were being bothersome to the point of obsolescence. His right eye had finally stopped doing it, maybe a day or two prior. But this left eye was holding on for some reason. Konstantine finally grabbed the vision module that was prepared by an optometrist the day prior. He stood in front of a sink with a mirror, and grabbed a scalpel left on a nearby tray. He slowly raised the blade to his eye, and looked into the reflection of the room to spot the cowering doctor in the corner. So far, the doctor had been so compliant in being quiet about the evening’s activity. Konstantine spoke in a soft tone, requesting guidance on where to cut. He was quick with the blade work, excavating the majority of his eye socket with precision. Then, he inserted the module into the socket. It took a second, but his vision faded back into perception relatively smoothly. There was no fancy overlay, just the simple feedback of ocular to nerve to thought. Konstantine sighed, pleased with the outcome. He approached the doctor in the corner, who whimpered and shrank into the corner as much as he could. Konstantine stepped over the fragments of the doctor’s ID, which was cut to pieces and discarded to prevent the doctor from leaving prior. He reached out, taking the doctor's hand and shaking it. He thanked the doctor for being a gracious host in such odd circumstances. He applauded his steel nerves for giving assistance with the procedures that took place over the last few hours of the night. Konstantine then took a hand to the shoulder of the fearful doctor. Konstantine highlighted that it was probably for the best that the doctor did not remember the night’s events. In a flash, Konstantine’s free hand reached into his coat and retrieved a quick injector filled with Class A amnestics. He stuck the doctor in the arm, catching the doctor as he stumbled under the weight of the amnestic treatment. Konstantine quickly ushered out the doctor, telling him it was late and he probably should go back to the bunks and sleep off the night. The doctor agreed, and shambled off.
Konstantine sighed, looking around the operation room and rubbing the back of his neck. He could call A-1 down here to clean up. But that would be rude. And besides, the mess was his to clean up. Konstantine notified the night watch of A-1 to at least redact the CCTV and keycard scanner logs. He set to work, putting his discarded body parts in biohazard bags as well as any tools in the office. After tossing the bag into a nearby incinerator chute, he took to work bleaching the blood from his operation and any remains of him. After coming to from the Long Sleep, Konstantine had been in this very room, getting work done to ensure he was really all there and that he was fit to return to proper duty. So his fingerprints being in this office was plausible deniability. He did take account of and disposed of potential fingerprints on surfaces that couldn't be talked out of. He wiped down the medicine cabinet, the handles to the tool drawers, even went as far as to scrub the sink and mirror. He disposed of the cleaning materials too, just like the remains of his limbs. When he was satisfied he had covered his tracks, Konstantine slipped out of the office, through the lobby of the medical center, and hummed Tame Impala's “Dracula” as he strolled his way back to Floor 3. In the morning, the doctor who bore witness to Konstantine’s body work chalked it up to a dream.
PAC reasoning
Legs - "The new versions of these legs were heavier, no doubt. But they featured a more responsive reaction to his movements. They also sported a more...practical design for public appearances"
Eye - "Then, he inserted the module into the socket. It took a second, but his vision faded back into perception relatively smoothly. There was no fancy overlay, just the simple feedback of ocular to nerve to thought"
Mask - "He grabbed his respirator mask and fixed it on. It was designed to look like a generic respirator, though the filtration fed Konstantine on a slow steady dispersal of Albuterol"
Vest - Konstantine is at the rank of a Trusted OSA, and has had several attempts on his life. He has been issued a plate carrier to keep him somewhat more intact
PAC Overview :
OOC Content : Konstantine is the former RSD Executive Joesef Azere, who was promoted to OSA due to his consistent and close RSD work with the higher-ups on Floor 3. All biotic-modification lore is present in past posts, such as the eyes and legs. Custom face models like in the first PAC request were dropped long ago for optimization. All present PAC models are vanilla Garry's Mod or standard CN content. Later content of the lore post is related to events that have physically happened in LARP, such as the cloning references and SCP-9242 incident.
Lore :
Biomechanical engineering and prosthetic designing wasn't really his forte, even in his Executive. But as he fitted the newly fabricated metal strips, the freshly woven wiring conduits, and the finely tuned servos into the crude shapes of legs, Konstantine was proving himself to be a quick learner out of necessity. He pushed back from the table in his rolling office chair, and pulled one of the legs down to the level of one of his freshly cauterized leg stubs. He paused, coughing and shivering as his lungs struggled. It’s been getting worse over the week. Konstantine settled himself and affixed the legs properly. The new versions of these legs were heavier, no doubt. But they featured a more responsive reaction to his movements. They also sported a more...practical design for public appearances. Being so late in Site-65, he had the privacy of a back room in the medical center to walk about and test these new appendages. As he walked, he gently nudged one of his freshly discarded legs aside out of the pathway. They were dead weight now, just as much as they were before. Ever since he was released from that tank of Immortal Flesh slurry, his body just didn’t feel quite right, not even the very limbs he used for propulsion. Which was funny, willingly going back to how his legs were before… before…the memory was hazy. He remembered fleeing something with Benrey and Mori. Then the sudden flash, and standing alone in a hallway made of brick with furniture protruding from surfaces…then the flash of flopping out of the tank from The Long Sleep. O5-2 had been wary of Konstantine’s presence ever since he had awoken from the Long Sleep. So maybe if he got back to his good ol’ days, he might be more comfortable! He stumbled, falling into a coughing fit once again. He grabbed his respirator mask and fixed it on. It was designed to look like a generic respirator, though the filtration fed Konstantine on a slow steady dispersal of Albuterol. It wasn’t long-term by any means, but it lessened the beartrap on his constricting airways. Ever since the Long Sleep, his it never felt properly comfortable to breath.
He looked over the papers he had drawn up about the leg augments. As he read back over the limitations and the parameters of his new legs, a drop of liquid fell onto the paper. It stained the ink, spreading around. Konstantine brought a hand up to his left eye. His fingers touched against something wet. His eyes were doing it again. Leaking, strained from hours of him once again forgetting to blink. Ever since he came back from the Long Sleep, his eyes were being bothersome to the point of obsolescence. His right eye had finally stopped doing it, maybe a day or two prior. But this left eye was holding on for some reason. Konstantine finally grabbed the vision module that was prepared by an optometrist the day prior. He stood in front of a sink with a mirror, and grabbed a scalpel left on a nearby tray. He slowly raised the blade to his eye, and looked into the reflection of the room to spot the cowering doctor in the corner. So far, the doctor had been so compliant in being quiet about the evening’s activity. Konstantine spoke in a soft tone, requesting guidance on where to cut. He was quick with the blade work, excavating the majority of his eye socket with precision. Then, he inserted the module into the socket. It took a second, but his vision faded back into perception relatively smoothly. There was no fancy overlay, just the simple feedback of ocular to nerve to thought. Konstantine sighed, pleased with the outcome. He approached the doctor in the corner, who whimpered and shrank into the corner as much as he could. Konstantine stepped over the fragments of the doctor’s ID, which was cut to pieces and discarded to prevent the doctor from leaving prior. He reached out, taking the doctor's hand and shaking it. He thanked the doctor for being a gracious host in such odd circumstances. He applauded his steel nerves for giving assistance with the procedures that took place over the last few hours of the night. Konstantine then took a hand to the shoulder of the fearful doctor. Konstantine highlighted that it was probably for the best that the doctor did not remember the night’s events. In a flash, Konstantine’s free hand reached into his coat and retrieved a quick injector filled with Class A amnestics. He stuck the doctor in the arm, catching the doctor as he stumbled under the weight of the amnestic treatment. Konstantine quickly ushered out the doctor, telling him it was late and he probably should go back to the bunks and sleep off the night. The doctor agreed, and shambled off.
Konstantine sighed, looking around the operation room and rubbing the back of his neck. He could call A-1 down here to clean up. But that would be rude. And besides, the mess was his to clean up. Konstantine notified the night watch of A-1 to at least redact the CCTV and keycard scanner logs. He set to work, putting his discarded body parts in biohazard bags as well as any tools in the office. After tossing the bag into a nearby incinerator chute, he took to work bleaching the blood from his operation and any remains of him. After coming to from the Long Sleep, Konstantine had been in this very room, getting work done to ensure he was really all there and that he was fit to return to proper duty. So his fingerprints being in this office was plausible deniability. He did take account of and disposed of potential fingerprints on surfaces that couldn't be talked out of. He wiped down the medicine cabinet, the handles to the tool drawers, even went as far as to scrub the sink and mirror. He disposed of the cleaning materials too, just like the remains of his limbs. When he was satisfied he had covered his tracks, Konstantine slipped out of the office, through the lobby of the medical center, and hummed Tame Impala's “Dracula” as he strolled his way back to Floor 3. In the morning, the doctor who bore witness to Konstantine’s body work chalked it up to a dream.
PAC reasoning
Legs - "The new versions of these legs were heavier, no doubt. But they featured a more responsive reaction to his movements. They also sported a more...practical design for public appearances"
Eye - "Then, he inserted the module into the socket. It took a second, but his vision faded back into perception relatively smoothly. There was no fancy overlay, just the simple feedback of ocular to nerve to thought"
Mask - "He grabbed his respirator mask and fixed it on. It was designed to look like a generic respirator, though the filtration fed Konstantine on a slow steady dispersal of Albuterol"
Vest - Konstantine is at the rank of a Trusted OSA, and has had several attempts on his life. He has been issued a plate carrier to keep him somewhat more intact
Game Master