Esposito, Guido

NAME:
Guido Esposito

AGE:
Twenty-Eight years of age.

GENDER:
Male

NATIONALITY:
Italian

LETTER:
Pi. (Π)

PICTURE:

Spoiler:

PERSONAL DETAILS

DESCRIPTION:
To begin to describe Guido, this shall be done in steps, in order of prominence. First of all, when one would see Guido, he's around six feet tall, with a slightly muscular build, but not enough muscle to look like he could do much with a heavy weight or a fist fight. Next, one should notice his apparent liking for dark blue and gray clothing, particularly in the form of a gray jacket and gray shirt, with blue jeans. When his shirt is gone, one can see the letter Pi marked on his left shoulder. Next is his black hair, cut short, but allowed to grow a tad thicker on the top, complimented by dark eyes of umber. Guido also has a distinctly low voice, when not impersonating another, often coming off to others as a mellow, or bored, tone of speaking. He also tends to possess a hands-in-pocket style of walking, with a gait much shorter than he is fuly capable of, with him walking very slowly, unless iven a good reason to move quicker. On a last note, Guido is left-handed, but tends to use his right hand so nobody called him out on being left-handed, though he is significantly better with his left. Like Inigo Montoya. But Italian.

PERSONALITY:
Guido isn't a people person, to put it simply. That is to say, he shows certain anti-social tendencies, likely due to being in a caste superior to the norm, leading to a certain estrangement with society. This has caused him to become a bit of a loner, albeit a happy one, and he talks to few who aren't almost as different as he, IE other Children, people with above-average intelligence, or various others for whatever reasons he'd talk to them. That said, he sees the common man as being not inferior, but out of his range of communications; too dumb to understand half of the things Guido says, while he himself is too smart to grasp the simple comments of some random Hobo Joe. In addition to this, he also tends to have no sexual relations, and the sex drive of a broken washing machine, and is often too preoccupied within his own mind to pay attention to anyone attempting to talk to him. And of course, when one does talk to him, he lacks communication skills, and will often speak bluntly, although politely in tone and wording, and say the wrong things, thinking it to be the most logical course of action, such as telling a rather large woman that it would be worth her time to invest in a larger dress. Though, despite his social failures, he can be quite charismatic and friendly, if he can manage to say the right things to the right people at the right time. Another aspect of what makes up Guido is an over-thinking streak. He often thinks too far ahead, and generally overlooks the simple details that hold the most sway over a situation. This can often land him in deeper trouble, if he tries to out-wit somebody during some form of hostile encounter.

HISTORY:
"Buon giorno. My name is Guido Esposito. I am also called Pi. I haven't much time, must keep moving. But to you, for I see that you are curious, to you, I address this tale, and I hope this should never happen to you..."

I awakened, with nothing. Not a memory more than a name and a title, vaguely imprinted on my mind, and knowledge of unknown origins. It was all so unclear, so foggy... I knew I was Guido, by birthname. Esposito was the surname I'd been given, but... By whom? I was also called Pi... Pi... The area of a circle divided by the squared radius, and the sixteenth letter of the Greek alphabet.

------------------------------

Guido stepped cautiously out of his tank. Fifteen others had already been let out, and the remaining eight after him were being set free. The man in the lead, he assumed was Alpha; the first. He didn't speak to Alpha. He ran. And I know what you're thinking; this man had escaped his confinement to save everyone else. Why run? It was futile. They'd be caught again anyways, especially in numbers easily tracked. Alone, he'd stand a far better chance. As he headed out, he placed a hand to a power outlet, pausing momentarily to short-circuit the electricty in this area, at the least in the hallway he'd found. It was instinctual, not a clever idea, and he was surprised at first when he noted that the lights truly were out along his path. So he stood fully again, and faced the exit, the proverbial gate of paradise. He then ran, and his memory draws a blank of what exactly happened after this...

Later on, who knows how long after, he had found clothing. Not much; a pair of boxers, denim jeans, and a coat, black fabric, intended most likely for a suit. And he could remember a little more now that his mind was clear; he had been in a facility ran by a group called Typhon... And... Nothing else struck his mind of any importance. All he knew was he had to avoid Typhon, and, for his best interests, his fellow freaks. So he made use of his newfound electric abilities; he found an ATM machine, almost immediately, and when the coast was clear, charged it with a laying-on of hands. The money spilled before him, and he repeated the process on several other ATMs until he'd amassed a considerably nice mini-fortune. Certainly enough to keep on the run. So he travelled. He was Italian, he knew that much; he spoke Italian most fluently, so it seemed an obvious solution. He flew from America to Italy.

For a good nine months, he spent his time in Venice, Rome, Milan... Cultural capitals of the world, he thought. His stay was enchanting, marvelous. He learned much, read many books, met with many like-minded people of his intellect. But, alas, it was short-lived. As he walked along a sidewalk, intent on enjoying a nice meal at a pleasant resaurant, one fateful day, he was taken by two men into a car, bound by the wrists and ankles, in the backseat. And thus began an informative exchange; " And to what do I owe you fine gentlemen this meeting?"

"We was told by our boss to drag you all the way to an airport and take you back to Typhon, along with the res of the Children."

"Children? I'm afraid you are mistaken; I do believe myself to be in the age range of 20 to 30. Definitely not a child."

"Twnety-eight, wise guy. And yeah, Children. Super-powered super-soldiers."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, that's how it is."

"How delightful. Well, I've gathered all I needed to know. Must bid you adieu. Ciao." With that, he placed his hands, intertwined, on the interior of the vehicle. Contact established, he grinned. Things were about to get bumpy. He braced himself, as the air bags deployed, slamming both driver and passenger in the chest and neck, full-force. The car veered sharply to the left, as Guido turned off the ignition as well, stopping the vehicle's flow of fuel. As the car came to a crash, it flipped over, Guido having rolled onto the floorboards. With but a few scratches and bruises, he crawled from the wreckage.

It wasn't safe in Italy anymore. He booked the first flight to Mexico, and hid out there for a month or so. He then moved to China, to England, to Bangledash, to Madagascar, and finally he'd reached Cairo when another misfortune befell him. This time, it was at a construction site, apparently on location for a new building. Typhon soldiers numbered in at around a dozen or two dozen, each armed with a rifle of sorts. As he would later learn among examining he bullet that grazed his ankle, leaving large welts, and embedding into the ground, these guns were armed with hafnium-alloyed ammunition, which made the bullets even more dangerous to him. But at any rate, he'd been in luck. He found his way into the lifting part of a bulldozer, and with a wicked grin, rose high into the air on the bulldozer's lift. The vehicle then, led by his precise thought and intense concentration, surged forward, accelerating rapidly, and plowing down a good eight of the soldiers, and he fled the scene, killing any guards in his path, and he wondered how they kept finding him. He'd have to step it up a notch...

Since leaving Cairo, he had arrived in a few other places; St. Petersburg, Memphis, Kyoto, Dublin, Ethiopia, and he now resides in Auckland, New Zealand, still on the run today. Only time will tell what happens next...

FACTION:
Unaffiliated.

ABILITY DETAILS

SKILLS/ABILITIES:
~ An IQ of 209, gifting Guido with an incredible learning capacity, as well as quickening the amount of time it takes to learn things or process data.
~ Very skilled at vocal impressions, with a range of accents, dialects, and the vocal range of the most skilled opera singer.
~ Knowledgable of many forms of technology, partly due to his power.
~ Nimble and quick.
~ Know for creative applications of his powers during the research done at Typhon, which he still utilizes, making him elusive and unpredictable.
~ Stealthy, and able to keep a low profile.
~ Fiercely determined to live his life as he chooses.
~ Rather wealthy.

WEAKNESSES:
~ Not a skilled combatant at hand-to-hand.
~ Over-thinker.
~ Allergic to hafnium, and will suffer a violent reaction to more than two grams of hafnium making contact with his skin. Anything between half of a miligram and two grams will result in itching and a bad rash. A pound of hafnium could induce a heart attack, leading into a coma, without immediate medical care.
~ A bit of a paranoid; mind you, he has every reason to be paranoid.
~ Very sensitive nose; a strong enough stench could result in his passing out.
~ Socially awkward, and a social shut-in, albeit not a physical shut-in, rather, just a bit of a loner.
~ Stubborn and reckless a times.
~ Very good at saying the wrong thing.

POWER: Technophilic Puppetry:
PRIMARY: Due to the fact Guido is among the Children of Typhon's design, he has a power unlike that of other humans. Namely, he has the ability of technopathy, meaning he can manipulate any electrical machinery that he can maintain physical contact with. To expaqnd on this, Guido's nervous system works in tandem with the properties of the serum in his bloodstream to let him circulate electricity to and from his body and the machine in question in order to have the machine do as he wishes. It does, however, at this level, force him to concentrate on the task at hand, leaving him rather vulnerable to an unpercieved attack that he could have otherwise seen coming. A good example of this is if Guido was kidnapped, and placed in a car or van, he'd have only to touch and keep touching the vehicle and he could effectively manipulate the ignition to accelerate and stop the car to his will, or engage the air bags, which would most likely result in a crash, in which he would have better odds of escape.
SECONDARY:
TERTIARY:
FINAL:

LANGUAGES SPOKEN:
Italian, Chinese, German, Spanish, Maori, English and Sign Language. Of note, while he knows English, he was taught the language by Typhon and they used English for everything but his other language teachings. As such, he associates the language with Typhon and chooses not to use it, usually speaking either Italian or Maori, when the latter is applicable.

USER DETAILS

ALIAS:
Jay

OTHER CHARACTERS:
I play no characters, including this one. I don't know what you're talking about. Okay, I'm lying. I play Guido, but that's it. :P

FACECLAIM:

Code:

[b]HIROMU ARAKAWA/FULL METAL ALCHEMIST[/b] – [i]Roy Mustang[/i]

CUSTOM RANK:
Fox On the Run

Roy Mustang? You have no shame.