Liquid Snake -- Metal Gear Solid
♟ MUN INFORMATION
[ name ] Inky
[ age ] 20
[ contact details ] AIM: inkblotmeringue
Email: inkblot.meringue@gmail.com
[ characters played ] None
♘ CHARACTER INFORMATION
[ name ] Liquid Snake
[ fandom ] Metal Gear Solid
[ canon point ] 12 years before the events of The Twin Snakes
[ age ] 21
[ personality ]
Liquid is an interesting mash of an arrogant son of a bitch mixed in with an inferiority complex the size of Wisconsin and an almost Shakespearean flair for drama. His body possesses near superhuman strength and endurance, he has an exceptionally high IQ and can employ an impressive level of discipline. He has all the skills of an elite super soldier and damn well knows it, and has the confidence that comes with being one of the best. He is, after all, a clone of Big Boss and the youngest member of the British SAS. He has gone through training, warfare and torture, and has only come out stronger for it. He has every reason for his confident swagger.
Except for the tiny matter of Solid Snake.
Ever since the day he was old enough to understand, Liquid was told that he was inferior. He was told, by the very man that he was cloned from and idolized, that he was the by-product formed in the creation of the perfect soldier; he was the garbage, the leftovers, the useless scraps. He would amount to nothing because he was nothing. It was Solid who had been given Big Boss’ legacy, and it was Solid who would become the greatest soldier. And no matter what Liquid did, no matter how hard he pushed himself or what he accomplished, he would never be good enough. The bitterness of being forever inferior left its mark on him at a young age; his chief motivations throughout his life were, and still are, hatred and the unshakable desire for revenge. Come hell or high water, he is determined to complete his goal-he would die for it, would make any sacrifice for it.
Pride and narcissism count amongst Liquid’s primary vices, springing from the need to hide that perceived inadequacy that was instilled in him from childhood. He already is firm in the belief that he is fundamentally flawed; if confronted about this, however, he would vehemently deny it with every fiber of his being. He is controlling and manipulative, and attempts to mold others’ perceptions to fit his desires. Liquid wants to be perceived as an aloof, unconquerable warrior, unsurpassed in intelligence and cunning, and will take the necessary steps to ensure such a reaction. He wants to be noticed, and he wants to be envied. Liquid can be ruthless if it’s necessary, or, should it serve him, he could be the opposite; either way, his actions will be foremost to further his goals, and he’s adaptive and resourceful enough to twist situations to his advantage.
Being a soldier, though, he realizes also the importance of being able to work in a unit, and, despite the fact that he thinks any unit is only worth having if he’s leading it, he can take an order when necessary-he is, after all, a soldier. And he isn’t opposed to taking advice, especially when that advice comes from someone who’s proven themselves competent. Liquid doesn’t know everything and is well aware of the fact that he can’t do everything.
Liquid tends to speak in one of two fashions-either he is imperious or he is sarcastic, and there are few times when he will be something other than those. He’s got a smart mouth on him, sometimes unwisely so, and doesn’t hesitate to make a cutting remark or two when he sees fit. It takes one hell of a good impression on him to start treating others as equals-it was something that recently had been exclusive to members of Bravo One Zero, his unit during the Gulf War, all of whom he trusted and had proven time and time again that they were loyal and capable. It’s not impossible to gain his trust and professional respect, but it certainly takes a lot. Many things can irritate him or possibly even anger him, and he has quite a short fuse, but nothing infuriates him like incompetence, either from an individual or a group, and it is not something that he ever tolerates. Mistakes are one thing-they happen, even after the most careful planning-but sheer ineptitude and uselessness is an entirely different thing.
Liquid has, though, a big red button marked ‘Inferiority Complex’, and to set him off, all someone has to do is push it. Hard. Doing so can make him lose his restraint and sometimes his common sense, and at times can let him get played like a ten cent kazoo, assuming the pusher plays his cards right. Sometimes, all it takes for him to get worked up is the mere mention of the names Solid Snake or Big Boss, and he’ll start into an epic rant that would put Hamlet to shame. His ‘family’ is his sorest point, outclassing even slights to his pride and ego.
[ history ]
Liquid Snake was one of three clones created by the Les Enfants Terribles project in 1972 in a secret facility in the United States. He was separated from his brother, Solid Snake, and his surrogate mother, EVA, shortly after birth, and was raised in the United Kingdom. His childhood was spent in military academies, undergoing a strict training and education program to mold him into the perfect soldier. He excelled both in his academics and in his training.
He was aware of the fact that he was the son of Big Boss from the moment he was able to understand it, and idolized him as both father and the greatest living soldier. He wanted to become everything that Big Boss was, and wanted to become the perfect warrior to carry on his father’s legacy, the best of his sons. At age ten, he was given his first chance to meet the man that he admired so much; the experience was not at all what he had expected. There was nothing remotely fatherly about Big Boss. Having to stand before him at attention while he went over Liquid’s scores and progress records was more like a military examination than what he had thought meeting his father and idol would be like. Even if he couldn’t expect anything paternal from the man, he had thought that he at least had his accomplishments. His high exam marks, his impeccable records, all the things that he had worked so hard for. That had to please him. That had to make him proud, or, at very least, satisfy him. Liquid was a better soldier at ten than most men were at three times his age.
And then he was told, in no uncertain terms, that it didn’t matter that his scores were high and that he was, here in the UK, a prodigy. Because over in America was Solid Snake, and he was better on a fundamental level; Liquid was just the leftovers, the summation of everything that was of no value and no worth. He was inferior. He always would be inferior. It was written into his very genes.
Big Boss returned other times after that, and always with the same message: inferior. Solid Snake, forever superior to him in every aspect, in every facet. Solid Snake, his brother and his bitter rival, who, in what might have been the greatest affront of all, did not even know that Liquid existed. Every time that name was spoken, Liquid loathed it more, until the very word brother became an anathema; the thought of him twisted Liquid’s guts with hatred. As time wore on and the years passed and he was still inferior, Liquid took that blind hatred and anger and focused it, transforming it into a driving force that could not be matched and could not be stopped. One goal fuelled him with limitless energy: one day, he would meet Solid Snake. And when he did, he would kill his brother, and show them-show them all-that Liquid Snake was superior regardless of what his genetics dictated.
He was trained under various branches of the British military; the SIS trained him for several years as a British agent, and at age thirteen he was given his first mission. He completed it perfectly, and in the following years, never failed to accomplish his objectives.
At eighteen, he became the youngest to serve in the SAS, the Special Air Service, and was deployed during the Gulf War in the Mobility troop. His eight-man squad, named Bravo One Zero, was assigned the task of locating and destroying mobile SCUD missile launchers in the Iraqi desert. During the mission the squad was compromised and was intercepted by Iraqi paratroopers. In the ensuing firefight, three of the eight men were killed, with the remaining five, among them Liquid, being taken captive. One other man died of his wounds on the way to the POW camp.
It was the first of Liquid’s failures.
For three years, Liquid endured torture and interrogation at the hands of his Iraqi captors. He was beaten, broken, deprived of sleep and sustenance. Most of those years were spent in isolation, left in a pitch-black, soundproof room; he came in contact with no one but the guards and his interrogators for months at a time. And during those long days and nights, the only thing that kept him from going completely mad was the thought of his brother, Solid Snake, and how he would kill him. How he would have his brother kneeling before him, beaten and broken, knowing exactly which of them was superior. Knowing it for those last moments of his life until Liquid raised a handgun and put a bullet in his skull; letting him die with that knowledge.
And then he was pulled down the rabbit hole.
[ appearance ]
MGS wiki link.
[ abilities ]
Despite being the perceived lesser of the twins, Liquid has been trained as a soldier from a very young age, and is therefore skilled in combat, military tactics, and various types of weaponry. He is an outstanding pilot, and if he can get into it, he can fly it, drive it, or sail it. He also has the advantage of being fluent in seven languages: French, Arabic, Malay, English, Italian, Russian, and German. Liquid also is incredibly intelligent, and his IQ was recorded as being 180 in his military records; he is capable of learning and adapting far more quickly than the average person. His memory is also excellent and he can remember large amounts of information with near perfect recall.
He is naturally gifted with strength, stamina, and keen senses, which all come from being a clone of the elite soldier, Big Boss. Through training, he’s honed his physical capabilities to their peak, and therefore is a formidable opponent in a battle, whether ranged or melee. Liquid is also proficient at disguising himself, since he was trained to be a spy by the British SIS, and can completely alter his mannerisms if necessary to complete a disguise.
His military experience allows him to keep a level head in a crisis, and also means that he is extremely difficult to threaten or intimidate. Liquid has a high pain threshold and high endurance, and can keep on going in even the most hostile environment. He’s adaptive, resourceful, and damn near impossible to kill, almost to the point where it seems as though he has at least nine lives. Possibly more.
♛ WONDERLAND INFORMATION
[ allegiance ] In order of preference, 1.) Royalists, 2.) MAFIA, 3.) Carnival
[ chosen weapon for the shifter ] Desert Eagle pistol
[ form of the shifter when not in use ] The left glove of a matching pair. The right is just a normal leather glove.
♗ SAMPLES
[ first person ]
Tch. Is this bloody thing even on? How the hell am I supposed to know if it’s working? Blasted mirror. Why can’t I just use a radio, like a sensible person?
[He turns the mirror over in his hands, examining it from all sides. He raises it, hoping that this would send out a general transmission, and speaks.]
Whatever. Anyway, this is Liquid Snake of the British SAS. I request that anyone who has useful information on where the bloody hell I am to contact me. An explanation as to why there was a rabbit hole in the middle of the Iraqi desert would also be greatly fucking appreciated. Over.
[He lowers the device and scowls.]
I swear, if I’m just bloody hallucinating, I’d expect better from my subconscious than a twisted Lewis Carroll knockoff. Hn. I have more important things to do than waste time here.
[Liquid starts walking; as a soldier, he dislikes standing around in one place for too long. He feels the need to do something, to play an active role instead of waiting passively for something to happen. So he walks, to see more of this Wonderland that he’s been dropped into.]
[ third person ]
[This was taken from an application to Hallowtown Horrors, a Lovecraft-inspired RP.]
The walk from the beach into town was nothing short of freezing; the weather in the Northeast wasn’t exactly hospitable, especially not after he was used to the desert heat. And it certainly didn’t help that he was battered, bruised, and soaked to the skin in saltwater; the moisture on his body was starting to freeze in the chill air, turning into a delicate lattice of white crystal on his blond hair. He had been directed to a hotel by one of the townspeople, and, as he approached the large building, he felt the eyes of the other residents following him with suspicion. He ignored them for the most part-they weren’t immediate threats, so what did he care what they thought of him? All he needed was a chance to get his bearings and perhaps dry clothing, and then he would be the hell out of here. Liquid didn’t know yet if all of this was real or if it was just some kind of hallucination, but for now he had to focus on the immediate problems-finding shelter, figuring out where he was, and getting back to Britain. He had to get back home-his superiors would need a report. Hell, they’d just need to know that he was alive, and not still trapped and abandoned in that godforsaken POW camp. The other details could be worked out later, under more favorable conditions.
Other details, like why his mind kept shying away from thoughts of the ocean, as though there was something buried there that he desperately didn’t want to uncover. Something as dark and cold and unfathomable as the sea.
Liquid placed one hand flat against the weather-beaten door of the hotel, and pushed it open.
[ name ] Inky
[ age ] 20
[ contact details ] AIM: inkblotmeringue
Email: inkblot.meringue@gmail.com
[ characters played ] None
♘ CHARACTER INFORMATION
[ name ] Liquid Snake
[ fandom ] Metal Gear Solid
[ canon point ] 12 years before the events of The Twin Snakes
[ age ] 21
[ personality ]
Liquid is an interesting mash of an arrogant son of a bitch mixed in with an inferiority complex the size of Wisconsin and an almost Shakespearean flair for drama. His body possesses near superhuman strength and endurance, he has an exceptionally high IQ and can employ an impressive level of discipline. He has all the skills of an elite super soldier and damn well knows it, and has the confidence that comes with being one of the best. He is, after all, a clone of Big Boss and the youngest member of the British SAS. He has gone through training, warfare and torture, and has only come out stronger for it. He has every reason for his confident swagger.
Except for the tiny matter of Solid Snake.
Ever since the day he was old enough to understand, Liquid was told that he was inferior. He was told, by the very man that he was cloned from and idolized, that he was the by-product formed in the creation of the perfect soldier; he was the garbage, the leftovers, the useless scraps. He would amount to nothing because he was nothing. It was Solid who had been given Big Boss’ legacy, and it was Solid who would become the greatest soldier. And no matter what Liquid did, no matter how hard he pushed himself or what he accomplished, he would never be good enough. The bitterness of being forever inferior left its mark on him at a young age; his chief motivations throughout his life were, and still are, hatred and the unshakable desire for revenge. Come hell or high water, he is determined to complete his goal-he would die for it, would make any sacrifice for it.
Pride and narcissism count amongst Liquid’s primary vices, springing from the need to hide that perceived inadequacy that was instilled in him from childhood. He already is firm in the belief that he is fundamentally flawed; if confronted about this, however, he would vehemently deny it with every fiber of his being. He is controlling and manipulative, and attempts to mold others’ perceptions to fit his desires. Liquid wants to be perceived as an aloof, unconquerable warrior, unsurpassed in intelligence and cunning, and will take the necessary steps to ensure such a reaction. He wants to be noticed, and he wants to be envied. Liquid can be ruthless if it’s necessary, or, should it serve him, he could be the opposite; either way, his actions will be foremost to further his goals, and he’s adaptive and resourceful enough to twist situations to his advantage.
Being a soldier, though, he realizes also the importance of being able to work in a unit, and, despite the fact that he thinks any unit is only worth having if he’s leading it, he can take an order when necessary-he is, after all, a soldier. And he isn’t opposed to taking advice, especially when that advice comes from someone who’s proven themselves competent. Liquid doesn’t know everything and is well aware of the fact that he can’t do everything.
Liquid tends to speak in one of two fashions-either he is imperious or he is sarcastic, and there are few times when he will be something other than those. He’s got a smart mouth on him, sometimes unwisely so, and doesn’t hesitate to make a cutting remark or two when he sees fit. It takes one hell of a good impression on him to start treating others as equals-it was something that recently had been exclusive to members of Bravo One Zero, his unit during the Gulf War, all of whom he trusted and had proven time and time again that they were loyal and capable. It’s not impossible to gain his trust and professional respect, but it certainly takes a lot. Many things can irritate him or possibly even anger him, and he has quite a short fuse, but nothing infuriates him like incompetence, either from an individual or a group, and it is not something that he ever tolerates. Mistakes are one thing-they happen, even after the most careful planning-but sheer ineptitude and uselessness is an entirely different thing.
Liquid has, though, a big red button marked ‘Inferiority Complex’, and to set him off, all someone has to do is push it. Hard. Doing so can make him lose his restraint and sometimes his common sense, and at times can let him get played like a ten cent kazoo, assuming the pusher plays his cards right. Sometimes, all it takes for him to get worked up is the mere mention of the names Solid Snake or Big Boss, and he’ll start into an epic rant that would put Hamlet to shame. His ‘family’ is his sorest point, outclassing even slights to his pride and ego.
[ history ]
Liquid Snake was one of three clones created by the Les Enfants Terribles project in 1972 in a secret facility in the United States. He was separated from his brother, Solid Snake, and his surrogate mother, EVA, shortly after birth, and was raised in the United Kingdom. His childhood was spent in military academies, undergoing a strict training and education program to mold him into the perfect soldier. He excelled both in his academics and in his training.
He was aware of the fact that he was the son of Big Boss from the moment he was able to understand it, and idolized him as both father and the greatest living soldier. He wanted to become everything that Big Boss was, and wanted to become the perfect warrior to carry on his father’s legacy, the best of his sons. At age ten, he was given his first chance to meet the man that he admired so much; the experience was not at all what he had expected. There was nothing remotely fatherly about Big Boss. Having to stand before him at attention while he went over Liquid’s scores and progress records was more like a military examination than what he had thought meeting his father and idol would be like. Even if he couldn’t expect anything paternal from the man, he had thought that he at least had his accomplishments. His high exam marks, his impeccable records, all the things that he had worked so hard for. That had to please him. That had to make him proud, or, at very least, satisfy him. Liquid was a better soldier at ten than most men were at three times his age.
And then he was told, in no uncertain terms, that it didn’t matter that his scores were high and that he was, here in the UK, a prodigy. Because over in America was Solid Snake, and he was better on a fundamental level; Liquid was just the leftovers, the summation of everything that was of no value and no worth. He was inferior. He always would be inferior. It was written into his very genes.
Big Boss returned other times after that, and always with the same message: inferior. Solid Snake, forever superior to him in every aspect, in every facet. Solid Snake, his brother and his bitter rival, who, in what might have been the greatest affront of all, did not even know that Liquid existed. Every time that name was spoken, Liquid loathed it more, until the very word brother became an anathema; the thought of him twisted Liquid’s guts with hatred. As time wore on and the years passed and he was still inferior, Liquid took that blind hatred and anger and focused it, transforming it into a driving force that could not be matched and could not be stopped. One goal fuelled him with limitless energy: one day, he would meet Solid Snake. And when he did, he would kill his brother, and show them-show them all-that Liquid Snake was superior regardless of what his genetics dictated.
He was trained under various branches of the British military; the SIS trained him for several years as a British agent, and at age thirteen he was given his first mission. He completed it perfectly, and in the following years, never failed to accomplish his objectives.
At eighteen, he became the youngest to serve in the SAS, the Special Air Service, and was deployed during the Gulf War in the Mobility troop. His eight-man squad, named Bravo One Zero, was assigned the task of locating and destroying mobile SCUD missile launchers in the Iraqi desert. During the mission the squad was compromised and was intercepted by Iraqi paratroopers. In the ensuing firefight, three of the eight men were killed, with the remaining five, among them Liquid, being taken captive. One other man died of his wounds on the way to the POW camp.
It was the first of Liquid’s failures.
For three years, Liquid endured torture and interrogation at the hands of his Iraqi captors. He was beaten, broken, deprived of sleep and sustenance. Most of those years were spent in isolation, left in a pitch-black, soundproof room; he came in contact with no one but the guards and his interrogators for months at a time. And during those long days and nights, the only thing that kept him from going completely mad was the thought of his brother, Solid Snake, and how he would kill him. How he would have his brother kneeling before him, beaten and broken, knowing exactly which of them was superior. Knowing it for those last moments of his life until Liquid raised a handgun and put a bullet in his skull; letting him die with that knowledge.
And then he was pulled down the rabbit hole.
[ appearance ]
MGS wiki link.
[ abilities ]
Despite being the perceived lesser of the twins, Liquid has been trained as a soldier from a very young age, and is therefore skilled in combat, military tactics, and various types of weaponry. He is an outstanding pilot, and if he can get into it, he can fly it, drive it, or sail it. He also has the advantage of being fluent in seven languages: French, Arabic, Malay, English, Italian, Russian, and German. Liquid also is incredibly intelligent, and his IQ was recorded as being 180 in his military records; he is capable of learning and adapting far more quickly than the average person. His memory is also excellent and he can remember large amounts of information with near perfect recall.
He is naturally gifted with strength, stamina, and keen senses, which all come from being a clone of the elite soldier, Big Boss. Through training, he’s honed his physical capabilities to their peak, and therefore is a formidable opponent in a battle, whether ranged or melee. Liquid is also proficient at disguising himself, since he was trained to be a spy by the British SIS, and can completely alter his mannerisms if necessary to complete a disguise.
His military experience allows him to keep a level head in a crisis, and also means that he is extremely difficult to threaten or intimidate. Liquid has a high pain threshold and high endurance, and can keep on going in even the most hostile environment. He’s adaptive, resourceful, and damn near impossible to kill, almost to the point where it seems as though he has at least nine lives. Possibly more.
♛ WONDERLAND INFORMATION
[ allegiance ] In order of preference, 1.) Royalists, 2.) MAFIA, 3.) Carnival
[ chosen weapon for the shifter ] Desert Eagle pistol
[ form of the shifter when not in use ] The left glove of a matching pair. The right is just a normal leather glove.
♗ SAMPLES
[ first person ]
Tch. Is this bloody thing even on? How the hell am I supposed to know if it’s working? Blasted mirror. Why can’t I just use a radio, like a sensible person?
[He turns the mirror over in his hands, examining it from all sides. He raises it, hoping that this would send out a general transmission, and speaks.]
Whatever. Anyway, this is Liquid Snake of the British SAS. I request that anyone who has useful information on where the bloody hell I am to contact me. An explanation as to why there was a rabbit hole in the middle of the Iraqi desert would also be greatly fucking appreciated. Over.
[He lowers the device and scowls.]
I swear, if I’m just bloody hallucinating, I’d expect better from my subconscious than a twisted Lewis Carroll knockoff. Hn. I have more important things to do than waste time here.
[Liquid starts walking; as a soldier, he dislikes standing around in one place for too long. He feels the need to do something, to play an active role instead of waiting passively for something to happen. So he walks, to see more of this Wonderland that he’s been dropped into.]
[ third person ]
[This was taken from an application to Hallowtown Horrors, a Lovecraft-inspired RP.]
The walk from the beach into town was nothing short of freezing; the weather in the Northeast wasn’t exactly hospitable, especially not after he was used to the desert heat. And it certainly didn’t help that he was battered, bruised, and soaked to the skin in saltwater; the moisture on his body was starting to freeze in the chill air, turning into a delicate lattice of white crystal on his blond hair. He had been directed to a hotel by one of the townspeople, and, as he approached the large building, he felt the eyes of the other residents following him with suspicion. He ignored them for the most part-they weren’t immediate threats, so what did he care what they thought of him? All he needed was a chance to get his bearings and perhaps dry clothing, and then he would be the hell out of here. Liquid didn’t know yet if all of this was real or if it was just some kind of hallucination, but for now he had to focus on the immediate problems-finding shelter, figuring out where he was, and getting back to Britain. He had to get back home-his superiors would need a report. Hell, they’d just need to know that he was alive, and not still trapped and abandoned in that godforsaken POW camp. The other details could be worked out later, under more favorable conditions.
Other details, like why his mind kept shying away from thoughts of the ocean, as though there was something buried there that he desperately didn’t want to uncover. Something as dark and cold and unfathomable as the sea.
Liquid placed one hand flat against the weather-beaten door of the hotel, and pushed it open.