Steam ID:
STEAM_0:1:209317707
Discord name:
chad4j#9120
For how long have you played on CG SCP:
901320s / 250 hours / 10.4 days
Age:
21
In what country are you located?:
United Kingdom
Time zone:
GMT
Character name(s):
'Athena' (SCP) / Bandrew Late (CI)
Civilian name:
Eros
What server are you applying for? (SCP-RP UK or SCP-RP USA):
SCP-RP UK
Do you have a mic?:
Yes
List all whitelisted, MTF, or CI roles that you hold or have held:
MTF E-11 CPL, MTF O-1 SPC, CI-A MRU-LCPL
Have you received any kicks/bans/warning? and why?:
No
What makes you the best candidate for Ethics Committee Assistant?:STEAM_0:1:209317707
Discord name:
chad4j#9120
For how long have you played on CG SCP:
901320s / 250 hours / 10.4 days
Age:
21
In what country are you located?:
United Kingdom
Time zone:
GMT
Character name(s):
'Athena' (SCP) / Bandrew Late (CI)
Civilian name:
Eros
What server are you applying for? (SCP-RP UK or SCP-RP USA):
SCP-RP UK
Do you have a mic?:
Yes
List all whitelisted, MTF, or CI roles that you hold or have held:
MTF E-11 CPL, MTF O-1 SPC, CI-A MRU-LCPL
Have you received any kicks/bans/warning? and why?:
No
I believe that as an ECA I would have a unique opportunity to learn from members of the Ethics Committee about on how they tackle issues within the foundation, and further how any decision-making is made. With this, I would be able to develop a skillset in critical thinking which would further improve assistance to the foundation over time. As well, being an ECA allows me to build relations within the Ethics Committee, but also Site Administration to increase positive relations between the two parties. With this, I hope I will be able to gain further undertstanding and knowledge of different areas within the foundation, which can expose myself to different perspectives and workflows. Thirdly, being an Ethics Assistant I can produce documentation, work and contribute to the foundation to ensure ethics with my understanding of the Legal Codex and the Ethics Committee duties. I would like to make a difference as an ECA.
As well, as an E-11 CPL, I was able to gain understanding of the site and its functionalities, dealing with unique situations presented by D-Class, as well as foundation personnel. This allowed me to conduct myself in a proper faction, and gain experience with handling SCPs as well as how to properly respond. As part of E-11 I joined "Archangels", with this squadron I gained experience of how to escort CL4 personnel during code'd situations, and returning them to safety. This knowledge will help those escorting me ensure my safety and reaction quicker.
In O-1, I ensure non-ethical matters are taking place. If anything happens that breaks the Legal Codex, I am able to assist in arresting the personnel and reporting them to the needed personnel, whether this is IA, Ambassadors or even ECM/ECA's themselves.
What are the responsibilities of Ethics Committee Assistants in RP?:
ECAs are responsible for ensuring all happening within the site are conducted in an ethical manner, which abides by the legal codex, such as dealing with unethical termination of D-Class, or overseeing a test being conducted. ECAs act as a conduit between ECM's and any concerns within the site, whether this is from departmental leads or lower ranked foundational personnel. As well, ECAs oversee tribunals taking place which may be too low clearance for a ECM to fit into their schedule. They follow any orders given by the Ethics Committee most importantly, and assist them in whatever way they may wish. As well, they can report any unethical misdeeds, whether this is to O1, or to IA, the ECA acts as an intermediary to solving problems within the foundation.
Please give some lore about your Ethics Committee Assistant character and what storylines they would be involved in:
My ECA Lore continues on from my PAC3 foundation backstory, and how I continued into O1, this lore is not published anywhere, I have attached this below for reading.
Growing up with her parents, the girl was surrounded by those she could look up to. A dedicated Father, though he would often be away, showed nothing but love and compassion to the girl. He saw himself in her, and knew she would be able to grow into a respectful, intelligent and strong woman. Her father served in the Royal Airforce first, over a multitude of tours before eventually transferring to the Army to become a para. Her father would often tell the girl stories, as they both sat together in their living room, the girl sat forward, grasping at every word that left the mans mouth.
As the years past, the girl dedicated herself to her studies, training in martial arts, begging her father that the day she turned 18 he would take her to her first shooting range. Knowing those guns wouldn’t be the cool ones she had heard in the stories, she yearned to learn marksmanship from her father. Before that day could come, the teenagers father passed.
The teenager would never forget the day a man in a pristine suit appeared on her doorstep, holding only a laptop bag which would serve for the purpose of wiring an inconceivable amount of money to her, unable to disclose what had happened to her father, but noting that he died a hero. This news turned the teen cold, while she would stick to her routine, and train hard, those around her noticed that the more playful person she once was, was gone. All that was left was a calm, cold and calculating person. The minute she turned 18, she ensured her name was down, her college qualifications completed, and joined the army as a non-commissioned officer.
As time passed, the woman met many, served around the world, and lost more comrades than she could comprehend. One however managed to always survive, and always be in her squadron. Eventually, the cold exterior broke for this one person, and she and the man fell in love. He stayed with her, declined opportunities to climb his station if it meant leaving her side, until after her eight tour, she was given her own personalised squadron. Though the conflict of interest was in question, from the woman's demeanour, they believed he would be a fitting member of her squadron, and she would protect those around her just as she had to many before.
The teenager would never forget the day a man in a pristine suit appeared on her doorstep, holding only a laptop bag which would serve for the purpose of wiring an inconceivable amount of money to her, unable to disclose what had happened to her father, but noting that he died a hero. This news turned the teen cold, while she would stick to her routine, and train hard, those around her noticed that the more playful person she once was, was gone. All that was left was a calm, cold and calculating person. The minute she turned 18, she ensured her name was down, her college qualifications completed, and joined the army as a non-commissioned officer.
As time passed, the woman met many, served around the world, and lost more comrades than she could comprehend. One however managed to always survive, and always be in her squadron. Eventually, the cold exterior broke for this one person, and she and the man fell in love. He stayed with her, declined opportunities to climb his station if it meant leaving her side, until after her sixth tour, she was given her own personalised squadron. Though the conflict of interest was in question, from the woman's demeanour, they believed he would be a fitting member of her squadron, and she would protect those around her just as she had to many before.
On her seventh tour, finally accepting and no longer fighting the wishes of her higher-ups to take a break, she and her second in command decided it would be their last for some time. Everything was fine, they had been deployed in the middle east, only taking covert-ops. All was how it should be. On the woman's final week, her team was tasked their final mission, to seek and destroy whatever combat unit had been wiping out far more men than comprehendible. For some reason, drones in the area would fall from the sky as they got close, binoculars would show nothing. But once a team entered, it would not exit.
The suicide mission was simple, enter the zone, record as much as possible, and exfiltrate. Though the squadron were well led, hardened and trusted to do the near-impossible, the higher-ups would not risk their lives if they could.
The woman could not comprehend what she saw before her, it was not human, and it did not seem real in any case. Its long, gangly form, shaped as a human, but without skin. Seemingly exposed to the world was its veins, its internal organs, but worst of all, its eyes. The leader tried her best to prevent the deaths of her squadron once it had noticed them, but all she could do is scream for their retreat as the creature tore through them all with a single swipe. As she fired her gun, blood splattered around it, but the thing did not seem to take damage, it did not show any sign of being hurt, it simply closened to her.
As she reloaded, she watched her partner jump before its swipe, protecting her from imminent death. “Run”, the words sounded like her second in command, but nothing could stop her from grabbing him by his armour and dragging him back. As the creature swiped her again, a cry left her lips as she lunged, tackling the thing to the ground. Her body covered in its blood, it simply clawed itself away and backed up.
She realised it must respond to touch, and she would not let the thing live for what it had done to her team, to her husband. Wounds did not matter to her, and in pure adrenaline she lunged once more, missing, but thankful for such as gunfire reigned above her. A loud noise emitted as her eyes slowly blurred, from the mixture of sand, but her slow loss of consciousness. All she could see was a light, seemingly coming from a cylinder as her body was dragged away from the ongoing fight. Finally, once the gunfire and shouting stopped, she allowed the light to take her, taking one final look at her partner.
It wouldn't be until days later that she would awaken, in a makeshift tent, a drip in her arm, in a simple t-shirt and the pants she had been wearing in the battle, this time however, clear of her comrades blood. In the bed beside her, a heartrate monitor blinked away, and what was left of her husband remained attached. She watched as the gentle beeps echoing stopped slowly.
For the next few days, food was brought to her. Too weak to move, and unsure of what was happening, she surveyed those who entered. Was she captured? Was that thing bait? Who would be behind this technology?
On the fifth day a man in a suit sat at the end of her bed when she’d awoken, with two very heavily armed guards beside him. The woman was presented a choice, she would be returned with no memory of what had occurred, or she would help fight against more of those beings, SCPs, and protect those within their organisation from such beings as part of a specialised taskforce.
And so, codename ‘Athena’ was born.
As the years past, the girl dedicated herself to her studies, training in martial arts, begging her father that the day she turned 18 he would take her to her first shooting range. Knowing those guns wouldn’t be the cool ones she had heard in the stories, she yearned to learn marksmanship from her father. Before that day could come, the teenagers father passed.
The teenager would never forget the day a man in a pristine suit appeared on her doorstep, holding only a laptop bag which would serve for the purpose of wiring an inconceivable amount of money to her, unable to disclose what had happened to her father, but noting that he died a hero. This news turned the teen cold, while she would stick to her routine, and train hard, those around her noticed that the more playful person she once was, was gone. All that was left was a calm, cold and calculating person. The minute she turned 18, she ensured her name was down, her college qualifications completed, and joined the army as a non-commissioned officer.
As time passed, the woman met many, served around the world, and lost more comrades than she could comprehend. One however managed to always survive, and always be in her squadron. Eventually, the cold exterior broke for this one person, and she and the man fell in love. He stayed with her, declined opportunities to climb his station if it meant leaving her side, until after her eight tour, she was given her own personalised squadron. Though the conflict of interest was in question, from the woman's demeanour, they believed he would be a fitting member of her squadron, and she would protect those around her just as she had to many before.
The teenager would never forget the day a man in a pristine suit appeared on her doorstep, holding only a laptop bag which would serve for the purpose of wiring an inconceivable amount of money to her, unable to disclose what had happened to her father, but noting that he died a hero. This news turned the teen cold, while she would stick to her routine, and train hard, those around her noticed that the more playful person she once was, was gone. All that was left was a calm, cold and calculating person. The minute she turned 18, she ensured her name was down, her college qualifications completed, and joined the army as a non-commissioned officer.
As time passed, the woman met many, served around the world, and lost more comrades than she could comprehend. One however managed to always survive, and always be in her squadron. Eventually, the cold exterior broke for this one person, and she and the man fell in love. He stayed with her, declined opportunities to climb his station if it meant leaving her side, until after her sixth tour, she was given her own personalised squadron. Though the conflict of interest was in question, from the woman's demeanour, they believed he would be a fitting member of her squadron, and she would protect those around her just as she had to many before.
On her seventh tour, finally accepting and no longer fighting the wishes of her higher-ups to take a break, she and her second in command decided it would be their last for some time. Everything was fine, they had been deployed in the middle east, only taking covert-ops. All was how it should be. On the woman's final week, her team was tasked their final mission, to seek and destroy whatever combat unit had been wiping out far more men than comprehendible. For some reason, drones in the area would fall from the sky as they got close, binoculars would show nothing. But once a team entered, it would not exit.
The suicide mission was simple, enter the zone, record as much as possible, and exfiltrate. Though the squadron were well led, hardened and trusted to do the near-impossible, the higher-ups would not risk their lives if they could.
The woman could not comprehend what she saw before her, it was not human, and it did not seem real in any case. Its long, gangly form, shaped as a human, but without skin. Seemingly exposed to the world was its veins, its internal organs, but worst of all, its eyes. The leader tried her best to prevent the deaths of her squadron once it had noticed them, but all she could do is scream for their retreat as the creature tore through them all with a single swipe. As she fired her gun, blood splattered around it, but the thing did not seem to take damage, it did not show any sign of being hurt, it simply closened to her.
As she reloaded, she watched her partner jump before its swipe, protecting her from imminent death. “Run”, the words sounded like her second in command, but nothing could stop her from grabbing him by his armour and dragging him back. As the creature swiped her again, a cry left her lips as she lunged, tackling the thing to the ground. Her body covered in its blood, it simply clawed itself away and backed up.
She realised it must respond to touch, and she would not let the thing live for what it had done to her team, to her husband. Wounds did not matter to her, and in pure adrenaline she lunged once more, missing, but thankful for such as gunfire reigned above her. A loud noise emitted as her eyes slowly blurred, from the mixture of sand, but her slow loss of consciousness. All she could see was a light, seemingly coming from a cylinder as her body was dragged away from the ongoing fight. Finally, once the gunfire and shouting stopped, she allowed the light to take her, taking one final look at her partner.
It wouldn't be until days later that she would awaken, in a makeshift tent, a drip in her arm, in a simple t-shirt and the pants she had been wearing in the battle, this time however, clear of her comrades blood. In the bed beside her, a heartrate monitor blinked away, and what was left of her husband remained attached. She watched as the gentle beeps echoing stopped slowly.
For the next few days, food was brought to her. Too weak to move, and unsure of what was happening, she surveyed those who entered. Was she captured? Was that thing bait? Who would be behind this technology?
On the fifth day a man in a suit sat at the end of her bed when she’d awoken, with two very heavily armed guards beside him. The woman was presented a choice, she would be returned with no memory of what had occurred, or she would help fight against more of those beings, SCPs, and protect those within their organisation from such beings as part of a specialised taskforce.
And so, codename ‘Athena’ was born.
Athena had been on site for ten minutes, instructed to read a handbook, shown to her bunk, taken for a course and handed a gun. Going from a squadron leader to the bottom of the ranks, she knew she had her work cut out for her, and she knew her primary objective would be to show her dedication. After what that SCP, that she now knows as SCP-4012, as overheard by excitable researchers in bio-suits. Apparently, the SCP takes the skin from the D-Class and wears it, Athena realised she would’ve become that if she had jumped on it again.
With time, Athena rose, from Cadet, to Officer to Sargent. Proving herself time and time again, escorting researchers, keeping them safe from violent D-Class personnel. Sometimes venturing into the heavy containment zone, and watching again and again as samples were taken, clipboards were filled, D-Class dying. Nothing in these tests phased her, it was looking into the eyes of these beings and recognising them as a threat.
As time passed, she realised that, for the most part these beings could be pleasant, and more just needed protecting from themselves. When Athena was later recruited into E-11 and became a Biohazard Specialist, she would frequently spend time inside 049’s cell, chatting with the kind Frenchman, and learning more of the chemicals he produced. She would often bring him food, invite him for further conversation and he would greet her with fond remark. Though, much to her confusion, he would still never explain the pestilence he was so avidly attempting to fix.
During a conversation with 049, panicked cries echoed through her radio, claiming the crusader, 7722 breached. The doctor wished her well, and waved goodbye. As she left the sector foxtrot, she joined along a firing line as bolts one-by-one took out her comrades, before she and the two who remained fell back.
As more soldiers were sent in, and few came back, and eventually Athena found herself once more at her checkpoint POI, without little rest between the two incidents, alongside the two she had escaped the original firing line with. Not too long after, two members of what she knew to be ISD approached her, asking for a minute of her time. Quickly she radio’d this in, said goodbye to her fellow E-11s, and followed the two into another room nearby.
█████-█: Holster your weapon please Athena.
Athena: Of course
█████-█: You are being placed under arrest for unethical conduct against D-Class personnel. Please do not resist as we take cuff you, and remove your communications, body-cam and GPS.
Athena, confused, but not wishing to upset the ISD members before her, after hearing of the tales of their marksmanship, held her wrists forward as one cuffed her, the second removing her equipment, handing it to a man who appeared suddenly in the doorway.
Once she had been stripped of her combat equipment, the person charged with stripping her, gagged her with coarse rope, and blindfolded her with a hood. Athena, remained calm externally, but inside her heart was beating a mile a minute. She felt herself be lead through the foundation, the hood constricting most words to almost whispered volume. She followed, feeling the eyes trained on her. Surely this was all a mistake, and unfortunately as one of the few female combat personnel on site, she knew everyone knew it was her under the hood. A falter in her step revealed the gun placed at the small of her back, lightly touching against, from this she knew. Move or die.
Athena’s chest heaved as her internal conflict grew, how could this be happening? She had been a model soldier, she had done everything to serve, she had left the change of a life behind, she had followed every rule, never spoken out of turn. How could they think it was her, did they have something filmed? Was she possessed by something in this facility to murder? Why her?
Finally, she found her cuffs being hung above her head, restraining her against a wall. The hood ripped away, and the gag pulled out with speed and efficiency from the one who had placed them there in the first place. The sudden lights stunned her momentarily.
Athena: “I am terribly sorry, there must be a mistake. I have not done anything wrong”
█████-█: “You are correct. We apologise for the circumstances of bringing you here, but you have been selected to join our team, we are known as Omega-1, we serve the Ethics Committee within this site.”
Athena was baffled, but mostly honoured. She accepted, and her heart stayed, and her usual cold demeanour returned.
With time, Athena rose, from Cadet, to Officer to Sargent. Proving herself time and time again, escorting researchers, keeping them safe from violent D-Class personnel. Sometimes venturing into the heavy containment zone, and watching again and again as samples were taken, clipboards were filled, D-Class dying. Nothing in these tests phased her, it was looking into the eyes of these beings and recognising them as a threat.
As time passed, she realised that, for the most part these beings could be pleasant, and more just needed protecting from themselves. When Athena was later recruited into E-11 and became a Biohazard Specialist, she would frequently spend time inside 049’s cell, chatting with the kind Frenchman, and learning more of the chemicals he produced. She would often bring him food, invite him for further conversation and he would greet her with fond remark. Though, much to her confusion, he would still never explain the pestilence he was so avidly attempting to fix.
During a conversation with 049, panicked cries echoed through her radio, claiming the crusader, 7722 breached. The doctor wished her well, and waved goodbye. As she left the sector foxtrot, she joined along a firing line as bolts one-by-one took out her comrades, before she and the two who remained fell back.
As more soldiers were sent in, and few came back, and eventually Athena found herself once more at her checkpoint POI, without little rest between the two incidents, alongside the two she had escaped the original firing line with. Not too long after, two members of what she knew to be ISD approached her, asking for a minute of her time. Quickly she radio’d this in, said goodbye to her fellow E-11s, and followed the two into another room nearby.
█████-█: Holster your weapon please Athena.
Athena: Of course
█████-█: You are being placed under arrest for unethical conduct against D-Class personnel. Please do not resist as we take cuff you, and remove your communications, body-cam and GPS.
Athena, confused, but not wishing to upset the ISD members before her, after hearing of the tales of their marksmanship, held her wrists forward as one cuffed her, the second removing her equipment, handing it to a man who appeared suddenly in the doorway.
Once she had been stripped of her combat equipment, the person charged with stripping her, gagged her with coarse rope, and blindfolded her with a hood. Athena, remained calm externally, but inside her heart was beating a mile a minute. She felt herself be lead through the foundation, the hood constricting most words to almost whispered volume. She followed, feeling the eyes trained on her. Surely this was all a mistake, and unfortunately as one of the few female combat personnel on site, she knew everyone knew it was her under the hood. A falter in her step revealed the gun placed at the small of her back, lightly touching against, from this she knew. Move or die.
Athena’s chest heaved as her internal conflict grew, how could this be happening? She had been a model soldier, she had done everything to serve, she had left the change of a life behind, she had followed every rule, never spoken out of turn. How could they think it was her, did they have something filmed? Was she possessed by something in this facility to murder? Why her?
Finally, she found her cuffs being hung above her head, restraining her against a wall. The hood ripped away, and the gag pulled out with speed and efficiency from the one who had placed them there in the first place. The sudden lights stunned her momentarily.
Athena: “I am terribly sorry, there must be a mistake. I have not done anything wrong”
█████-█: “You are correct. We apologise for the circumstances of bringing you here, but you have been selected to join our team, we are known as Omega-1, we serve the Ethics Committee within this site.”
Athena was baffled, but mostly honoured. She accepted, and her heart stayed, and her usual cold demeanour returned.
Ethics Committee Assistant Lore:
A visit from her old friend turned the site to ruins, while the doctor did not attempt to cure her, recognising the blonde from their months of conversations, it did not stop him from going for her comrades. Her main priority stood safely behind her tall frame, the ECM who she had just collected from his office to take him to wherever he required.“My friend, you are hiding a person writhe with the pestilence, please step aside so I may cure them”, his French accent drawled, gesturing to the side as his army of reanimated corpses slowly rose.
Athena held her gun high, her finger ready on the trigger, and arm behind her, doing her best to shield the ethics member. “Doc, you allow me the freedom of not being cured, I ask you extend it to my friend too. This man may have the pestilence but he does not wish to be cured.”
“I understand,” the plague doctor pauses “But I cannot simply allow for all to escape my cure, please my friend step aside, I would not wish to ruin our friendship”.
“If you can prove to me, in your laboratory, we will follow, what your pestilence is, I will submit myself, and my friend for testing”.
The plague doctor seemed excited by this prospect, ordering his “zombies”, SCP 49-2s, to wait for he was much excited to further educate his dear friend.
As they reached the cell, passing armies of soldiers turned zombified, keeping close guard of the Ethics Member, she extended her arm forward to the doctors cell, “Please my friend, after you” She offers, 049 complies. He can trust this woman, he always has trusted her, how could he not after all the time spent together?
The moment he stepped inside, Athena bolted the door shut, and in a swift motion took the Ethics Member over her shoulder, knowing between them and escape, it was near impossible in the current state. The facility was lost. She would need to either wait for backup, and waves of -2’s to attack to free their new master would attack. Or, she could do her best, pick herself up quickly and use all those years of athletics.
She cleared areas efficiently, and the zombies advanced forward behind her, waving their arms high going for any kill they could find. She had lost a friend, but failing her duties, would not happen. Everything was a blur until she arrived, letting the ECM down, and checking for any wounds, taking her med kit from her backpack, ensuring he was well and unharmed. Re-enforcements arrived, the ECM was taken elsewhere and she briefed them of the situation.
Once the site had been re-staffed, and returned to functionality some time later, an Assistant showed up outside of her bunks, requesting she came with. Athena quickly equipped herself, and followed outside, a short journey to the Ethics Committee Office. She found herself sat across the Member she had saved during the 049’s breach.
The Ethics Member stands, straightens his jacket and motions his hand forward, Athena gladly takes it and shakes his hand.
Last edited:
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