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no_fate_but's Journal
Created on 2008-06-22 19:24:29 (#15925437), last updated 2008-06-23
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Basic Info| Name: | Great Military Dickhead in training |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 1985-02-28 |
| Location: | Yeah, right. |
BioName: John Connor
Known Aliases: John Krieger (name retired from use), John Grant
Age: 23
Height: 5'11"
Relatives: Kyle Reese, father (deceased); Sarah Connor, mother (alias Suzanne Krieger, current location unknown).
Current Location: Unknown
Last Known Location: Villa Hayes, Paraguay
The Future: It's The End Of The World As We Know It
Kyle Reese: There was a nuclear war. A few years from now, all this, this whole place, everything, it's gone. Just gone. There were survivors. Here, there. Nobody even knew who started it. It was the machines, Sarah.
Sarah Connor: I don't understand.
Kyle Reese: Defense network computers. New... powerful... hooked into everything, trusted to run it all. They say it got smart, a new order of intelligence. Then it saw all people as a threat, not just the ones on the other side. Decided our fate in a microsecond: extermination.
Sarah Connor: Did you see this war?
Kyle Reese: No. I grew up after. In the ruins... starving... hiding from H-K's.
Sarah Connor: H-K's?
Kyle Reese: Hunter-Killers: patrol machines built in automated factories. Most of us were rounded up, put in camps for orderly disposal.
[Pulls up his right sleeve, exposing a mark]
Kyle Reese: This is burned in by laser scan. Some of us were kept alive... to work... loading bodies. The disposal units ran night and day. We were that close to going out forever. But there was one man who taught us to fight, to storm the wire of the camps, to smash those metal motherfuckers into junk. He turned it around. He brought us back from the brink. His name is Connor. John Connor. Your son, Sarah, your unborn son.
The Past: Riding Around In Helicopters, Learning How To Blow Shit Up
John: We spent a lot of time in Nicaragua and places like that. For a while there, she was with this crazy ex-Green Beret guy, running guns. Then there were some other guys. She'd shack up with anybody she could learn from so she could teach me how to be this Great Military Leader. Then she gets busted and it's like, "Sorry kid, your mom's a psycho. Didn't you know?" It's like, everything I'd been brought up to believe was all made of bullshit. I hated her for that. But everything she said was true. She knew and nobody believed her. Not even me.
Now: Hasta La Vista, Sanity
John and Sarah Connor thought they'd stopped the end of the world. For a few years they lived a life of semi-retirement from the war in a little place in Paraguay, a country of beautiful scenery (and an even more beautiful non-extradition treaty).
Sure, they kept an eye on the remnants of the Cyberdyne corporation, but for the first time it was with a sense of hope for the future. Sure, they didn't lighten their workouts any, but hey, who doesn't want to keep in shape? And sure, their stockpiles of weaponry weren't getting any lower, but not because they would soon desperately need that stash - no, they were just keeping up the family arms trade.
And then a T-800 shot their house up.
They hadn't stopped the war. They'd only delayed it. And, okay, okay, if they were being honest, they'd half expected this. Years of living in a state of paranoia don't wear off just because you melted a killer cyborg or two. So these days John spends most of his time trying to figure out which direction the war's going to be coming from. Of course, that's pretty much how he spent most of his time growing up, too. Situation Normal.
John and his mother have gotten separated, but he's back to riding around in helicopters, blowing shit up, and every day becoming more and more like that future Great Military Dickhead who's been hanging over his head his entire life. The rest of the world thinks he's a crazy Luddite terrorist like his mother.
He hopes they're right.
Muse: John Connor
Fandom: Terminator
This is a RP journal, folks, a game. I'm not really fighting to save the world from a robot apocalypse, I'm not John Connor, I'm not James Cameron, Nick Stahl, Edward Furlong, Michael Edwards, S. M. Stirling, or anyone else involved in the Terminator franchise.
A note on canon: For the purposes of this journal, James Cameron's writing is the Terminator franchise. T1 and T2. After that we're playing a little fast and loose here - characterization and events are drawn from S.M. Stirling's tie-in books, but sans the romantic entanglements and Uncle Bob lookalike; T3 is being used solely for the PB; I may or may not care about T4; and if you've got a TV-verse muse, this is Not The John Connor You're Looking For.
Known Aliases: John Krieger (name retired from use), John Grant
Age: 23
Height: 5'11"
Relatives: Kyle Reese, father (deceased); Sarah Connor, mother (alias Suzanne Krieger, current location unknown).
Current Location: Unknown
Last Known Location: Villa Hayes, Paraguay
The Future: It's The End Of The World As We Know ItKyle Reese: There was a nuclear war. A few years from now, all this, this whole place, everything, it's gone. Just gone. There were survivors. Here, there. Nobody even knew who started it. It was the machines, Sarah.
Sarah Connor: I don't understand.
Kyle Reese: Defense network computers. New... powerful... hooked into everything, trusted to run it all. They say it got smart, a new order of intelligence. Then it saw all people as a threat, not just the ones on the other side. Decided our fate in a microsecond: extermination.
Sarah Connor: Did you see this war?
Kyle Reese: No. I grew up after. In the ruins... starving... hiding from H-K's.
Sarah Connor: H-K's?
Kyle Reese: Hunter-Killers: patrol machines built in automated factories. Most of us were rounded up, put in camps for orderly disposal.
[Pulls up his right sleeve, exposing a mark]
Kyle Reese: This is burned in by laser scan. Some of us were kept alive... to work... loading bodies. The disposal units ran night and day. We were that close to going out forever. But there was one man who taught us to fight, to storm the wire of the camps, to smash those metal motherfuckers into junk. He turned it around. He brought us back from the brink. His name is Connor. John Connor. Your son, Sarah, your unborn son.
The Past: Riding Around In Helicopters, Learning How To Blow Shit Up
John: We spent a lot of time in Nicaragua and places like that. For a while there, she was with this crazy ex-Green Beret guy, running guns. Then there were some other guys. She'd shack up with anybody she could learn from so she could teach me how to be this Great Military Leader. Then she gets busted and it's like, "Sorry kid, your mom's a psycho. Didn't you know?" It's like, everything I'd been brought up to believe was all made of bullshit. I hated her for that. But everything she said was true. She knew and nobody believed her. Not even me.
Now: Hasta La Vista, SanityJohn and Sarah Connor thought they'd stopped the end of the world. For a few years they lived a life of semi-retirement from the war in a little place in Paraguay, a country of beautiful scenery (and an even more beautiful non-extradition treaty).
Sure, they kept an eye on the remnants of the Cyberdyne corporation, but for the first time it was with a sense of hope for the future. Sure, they didn't lighten their workouts any, but hey, who doesn't want to keep in shape? And sure, their stockpiles of weaponry weren't getting any lower, but not because they would soon desperately need that stash - no, they were just keeping up the family arms trade.
And then a T-800 shot their house up.
They hadn't stopped the war. They'd only delayed it. And, okay, okay, if they were being honest, they'd half expected this. Years of living in a state of paranoia don't wear off just because you melted a killer cyborg or two. So these days John spends most of his time trying to figure out which direction the war's going to be coming from. Of course, that's pretty much how he spent most of his time growing up, too. Situation Normal.
John and his mother have gotten separated, but he's back to riding around in helicopters, blowing shit up, and every day becoming more and more like that future Great Military Dickhead who's been hanging over his head his entire life. The rest of the world thinks he's a crazy Luddite terrorist like his mother.
He hopes they're right.
Muse: John Connor
Fandom: Terminator
This is a RP journal, folks, a game. I'm not really fighting to save the world from a robot apocalypse, I'm not John Connor, I'm not James Cameron, Nick Stahl, Edward Furlong, Michael Edwards, S. M. Stirling, or anyone else involved in the Terminator franchise.
A note on canon: For the purposes of this journal, James Cameron's writing is the Terminator franchise. T1 and T2. After that we're playing a little fast and loose here - characterization and events are drawn from S.M. Stirling's tie-in books, but sans the romantic entanglements and Uncle Bob lookalike; T3 is being used solely for the PB; I may or may not care about T4; and if you've got a TV-verse muse, this is Not The John Connor You're Looking For.
ConnectInterests (82):
ai, allies, ammo, apocalypse, biking, c4, caching, cb radio, central america, chess, clausewitz, computers, contacts, cyberdyne, cyborgs, defense systems, edward furlong, engines, enrique salceda, first aid, food, freeze dried foods, getting ready, great military leader, guns, guns n' roses, hacking, hiking, ip masking, james cameron, john connor, judgment day, knives, krav maga, kyle reese, linda hamilton, los angeles, messiah complex, miles dyson, military theory, miyamoto musashi, mres, nick stahl, no fate, nonextradition, nuclear war, nuclear winter, offroading, perry, plasma technology, plastique, preparedness, programming, resistance, reverse engineering, robots, rock climbing, sarah connor, security systems, self-sufficiency, sergeant tech-com dn38416, shelters, shortwave radio, skynet, smuggling, south america, spanish, strategy, sun tzu, survival, survival skills, t-1000, t-800, t2, tactics, tech-com, terminator, the future, training, uncle bob, water purification, weapons
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