Malcolm
"Where do I start? I was born, I grew up. Or should I where the deep cuts began? I think that is the best place to start, don't you? Growing up was rough; my old man was a drill sergeant who got the boot out of the Army because too many died under his watch in the 70s of all times. He was a right bastard, that one, but cancer took him back in 88. The one thing he taught me of value, if there was anything, was how to shoot and how to follow orders. I wish I was joking when I said he beat those lessons into me, but I can't and keep this honest."
Malcolm takes a drag off a cigar and then continues. "By 92, I was more trouble than I was worth, picking fights with anything with two legs -- or four legs. No amount of Legal Aid lawyers could get me out of trouble anymore. The judge gave me a choice. Juvie or join up, So I joined the Marines.
"I spent my first four years in and out of the brig. They wouldn't let me go, they were big about breaking people at that time, and I just wouldn't break, I was either too big or too dumb. Somewhere in here, while on leave, I met this proper battle-axe named Anya Taylor. We fought, we kissed, we fought some more, and it wasn't until two years later I met my little baby girl, Jasmine. The only good thing that came from that hellspawn Anya was Jazzy. That little girl became my world, brought me down to earth, and I found myself taking leave when it was up just to watch her grow. This little girl softened the killer in me. I couldn't think of living a life without her.
"But I served another 8 years on top of the original four, once the military figured out that I was best off with fewer people around me to antagonize. They set me up with a single dude - my spotter and made a sniper out of me. We rode out my sentence and my term together throughout my time in the Marines, that big damn asshole Dallas and me. He just would just not shut the hell up, always talking about this or that, about stealing the heart of someone or another. Worst possible partner to have when you get assigned a sniper. We spent days on end waiting for targets and all he did was yap relentlessly in my ear. I think I started to get used to it after a month or two because that insane SoB became my best friend. We couldn't stand to be away from each other, anytime I was in a fight or an argument, his ass was right there alongside me."
"But once I got out, then I had the big question: What the hell do I do now? I had the GI Bill and all the money I saved during my time of service, except for my child support to Jazzy bitch of a mother, and I had the entire California university system to work with.
"So what does a big macho Marine do with his time once he's out? Learn to blow up shit even better. Weapons engineer is the technical term, that requires three degrees: Mechanical, Optical, and Electrical Engineering, so I went about getting degrees in all three.
"Hell, I was still finishing my Master's degrees, plural, when Jazzy got to UCLA.
"The best way to make money in LA is in the movies. So I worked toward that along with following up with my studies, which amazingly, held my interest more than anything in my life had before, a calm in the storm. The one problem with working in special FX/stunt coordination is, that someday an accident WILL happen.
"On the set of A Day Ahead, where I was contracted to provide realistic EDs, a bomb went off - there was something defective about it, still not sure what. But I anticipated it somehow and a split-second before it detonated, I was a hundred yards away, suddenly and unexpectedly. I had no idea how I got there then, but now, I understand - Contiguous Ether workings are still among my best.
"A few days later, I got a phone call from Doctor Tristan Harper, who worked for a big-name Practical FX group, one with letters for a name. He told me he would like to meet with me about the work Id done on the A Day Ahead set, which had now wrapped production. When we met, it wasn't really about my work, but about the accident. He wanted to know every little detail, and I wasn't exactly forthcoming about what occurred, but he knew anyway.
"Damn Noetic Scientists. Brilliant on one hand, a little personal on the other.
"At some point, I realized he knew things I needed to know, and I decided to trust him. I didn't have a lot of options, especially since weird shit kept happening, and that's not exactly good for business. Or your health. I thought I was fucking losing my mind for a bit.
"Doc Harper - Trist - turned out to be a card-carrying member of the Society of Ether, a group of scientists who explored avenues of science beyond the normally accepted ones. He told me about the Traditions, a group of people who could do wondrous things, but noted that many of them preferred to think of their abilities as magical. He scoffed at that - there's no such thing as a phenomenon science cannot explain, only one science cannot explain *yet*.
"Come to find out, when you've got a crew of mad scientists around you, they don't mind what you want to do with your studies, they just want to be able to reproduce the effect. That being said, I found myself being inspired and pushed to my limits, and my need to cause trouble fell to the wayside as I finally found where I fit in.
"My first real breakthrough was my Quantum Blade - it was designed after my old military-issue K-BAR with a little finesse and interest thrown in. It returned to the hand when thrown and made an unhealable wound with the blade upon use; the design was all mine. I can't make them yet, but I can sure design them. Soon, I hope to find the Eureka moment that will allow me to impress my own scientific theories into permanent objects. Right now, I know how to make them work once, but the repeatable part has eluded me.
"Since I joined up with them in 2011, I've had a lot of breakthroughs, some large, some smaller. For a while, I was absorbing knowledge like a sponge, jumping from chantry to chantry to gain further insight, and traveling around the country to visit a lot of Etherites. I missed some of Jazzy growing up because of it, but that's my only regret. She always knew it as Dad traveling for work, and I may have hinted that it was top secret. Well, in a sense, it was.
"One time when I came back from a study trip, I discovered my daughter was Awakened. How the hell did *this* happen? Much to my disappointment, she wound up with those hippy-dippy Dreamspeakers, rather than following the path of Science, but I loved her anyway. At least, she seemed more inclined to welcome technology into her so-called magic.
"Once I found out she Awakened, I came back home to stay and set up my own small FX company to cover the costs of my research. Since then, I've been working on movies, making more discoveries, and always pushing forward toward understanding."
"Here's where things get awkward. I met this girl named Ellie and we've been dating a while, and she's a real pistol. I don't know how my little girl will take this news, considering Ellies is a little bit younger than me, but we will figure it out. Ellie and I mix like oil and orange juice, a volatile combination that just works, but that's another story to tell for another day.
| Full Name: | Malcolm Leon Belmont |
| Position: | Special Fx Expert |
| Demeanor: | Architect |
| Apparent Age: | late 40s |
| Height: | 6'10" |
| Weight: | 310 lbs |
| Hair: | Salt and Pepper |
| Eyes: | Dark Brown |
| Faction: | The Traditions |
| Tradition: | Society of Ether |
| Sub-Faction: | Adventurers |
| Chantry: | Glendale Tool Company |
| Mad Science tends to go BOOM!: | An Etherite that enjoys the more unstable things in life! |
| Ready, ACTION!: | Special effects are his bread and butter. |
| Family Matters: | He has a daughter, Jasmine and she is the Apple of his eye! |
| Jasmine: | My baby girl. A man couldn't ask for a more beautiful little girl, I love you, Jazzy Bean! |
| Ellie: | The flame to my firecracker. |
| Morgan: | A Woman of few words and yet, another daughter of my growing Family. |
| Chloe: | Blue, my crazy little techno bug, you are going places. Just try to get the floor of your shop clean this time. |
| Bea: | British Bad Ass, Bea is not your average granny. Secretly, I am afraid she could kick my ass. |
| Wolfe: | Doc Who? I mean Old friend, but half insane. Still got my ill-gotten gains. |
