Haven923

Recruit Jason B. Aves Click. The clip locked in place as Aves prepped his rifle. Ye racked back the charging handle, allowed it to slide forward on its own, palmed the forward assist, and closed the ejection port dust cover. This thing fascinated him. He had always been intrigued by firearms and the awe-inspiring power they wielded over life and death, but had always been too afraid to handle one. Since the start of his training, they had been introduced to the weapon and, in his free time, Jason had devoured the field manual for the weapon. It had all kinda of redundancy features, safety mechanisms, and a whole suite of electronics. After a moment of twiddling with the display he had cycled through the default ammo counter/compass display, an advanced compass with current heading readouts, and a smart link set up interface. He was a little bummed that they hadn't been issued smart link-capable optics. All they had were ironsights, but even then they were rated for three hundred meters accurately. "Guys. Put your helmets on and let it link to your neural lace thing." Aves looked over to Shields down from him in the Pelican dropship then complied. Hes helmet linked with his shooter's glasses and did a quick boot up. This was one thing he was still getting used to. He was comfortable with weapons now, but making things happen with his brain? The concept still made him simultaneously amazed and intimidated. After a few moments of furrowing his brow in different ways he was successful in confirming his identity. He would leave the more advanced aspects untouched for now. A minor wave of nausea was already setting on and he didn't want that to mix with the rumble of the pelican.

Recruit Jason B. Aves "Fireteams. It's good you know the structure. I'll decide once you've all buddied up." Jason nodded and looked immediately to his left. The recruit next to him, Dwyer, didn't seem to be picked yet. He bumped his arm with his elbow to grab his attention and quizzically bobbed his head up to see if he was up for being partners. At the same moment, one of the other squad leaders brushed by and jarred Shields in the ribs. "Gotta keep your eyes open, man." When they had started to form up, Aves had heard him off to the side concocting some heinous plan to take out the shock troopers. Now, he was making enemies with other squads? His words still lingered in Aves' ears. Keep your eyes open? It almost sounded as if he intended to turn against them. Jason needed to focus on the here and now, though so he dismissed it as daddy issues, wiped the dumbfounded look off of his face, and turned his attention back to Dwyer.

Recruit Jason B. Aves The recruit exhaled gratefully. He eagerly jogged over to Shields as his name was called and formed up all the way to the right in the first flank. Bending at the waist, Aves leaned forward to get an idea for who would be in his squad. Content, he straightened back up and looked forward, tensing and relaxing his grip on his MA5 nervously. He knew making a good impression would set him up for success, but at the same time he loathed the idea of looking like a suck up. He realized that, being on the far right of his row, he was in a leadership spot and dwelt in his own internal conflict for a few moments. Heck, what would it hurt... He cleared his throat to rid himself of the knot that had developed and spoke, chocking on his words as his tongue seemingly shriveled up within his mouth. "Recruit Sh-Shields, Recruit Aves requesting..." He swallowed once more. "...requesting command of a-a fireteam." Stupid stupid stupid... How are you supposed to lead a fireteam if you can't even mutter a sentence without freezing... Get your composure back or else they're going to laugh in your face... With a deep breath, he stood tall and puffed his chest out a little to attempt to look more confident. He adjusted his grip on his rifle and locked his eyes to the front.

Jason's head dipped a little. He could read a map, he could shoot a gun, but with a dozen of some of the best the UNSC has to offer against this rag-tag bunch... He pushed the thought out of his mind. If he resigned now, he already lost. The recruit lifted his chin and looked down the line of his fellow greenhorns, looking specifically for those designated as squad leaders. He didn't really know what to think of any of them. His experiences with them were minimal since he started militia training and was trying, despite his better judgement, to stay open minded. That Oliver guy... he would probably be his best bet. If he could get in his squad, then he might at least have a shot. No matter how this went down, the idea of incapacitating an ODST seemed like a good way to get on the DI's good side. On the opposite end of the spectrum, that would probably mean the ODST would make his life a living hell from then on out. The golden glare of Reach's sun glinted off of the ODST's visors and chilled him to the core as they appeared to be burning with fire. He rolled his shoulders with the chill to try to play it off and not look like how he felt... scared a hair's breadth from death. He didn't even know if he would be able to shoot at a person, training rounds or not. As the sun slowly dipped across the horizon and glared brightly in his eyes. His yellow-tinted shooter's glasses did nothing to dim the flare. He raised his hand to shield his eyes. No matter how he played it in his mind, this was going to be like nothing he had ever experienced. And it was going to suck.

Name: Jason B. Aves Age: 22 Physical Appearance: Jason is of average height, coming in around 5'11" with a toned, slim build and lightly tanned skin. He isn't particularily out of shape, but don't be expecting him to knock out one hundred push-ups easily or run very far very fast. Jason suffers from an archaic genetic anomaly that left him with "flat feet." Due to that, he has a hard time running long distances or even being walking quietly if he isn't focused on the task. His dirty blonde hair is tapered from a near-skin buzz on the sides and back to a little over the maximum regulation length (roughly three inches) on top with bangs that were actually a bit longer, but it stays out of his eyes and--on a passing glance--looks acceptable. His face is framed by a strong jawline. His kind, hazel eyes are crowned by a slightly protruding brow courtesy of his Scottish descent that makes his eye sockets seem a little darker, almost as if he wore a very light permanent coat of eye shadow. Rank: Recruit Uniform: Olive Drab Battle Dress Uniform. Wears a sentimental black leather band on his left wrist and a woven paracord bracelet on his right wrist. Birthplace: Southeastern North America, Earth, but ran away to a semi-rural district of New Alexandria that had some farms and the such. Personality: Jason is a very moralistic individual with strong religious values. He is also a hopeless optimist. He tends to see people as good until proven otherwise. He's very tolerant, resilient, humble, and easy to get along with. One of his traits that he despises about himself is his tendancy to become very calm and collected under intense stress. He can't help but feel that he should feel bad or be freaking out, but it is a desireable trait... or so he is told. He likes to smile and can find a joke in just about anything, sometimes in the wrong situations. He is very intelligent, remembers things easily, and is very intuitive. Background: Older brother of two and son to an IT and a clerk. Jason butted heads a lot with his father throughout his life and grew a great resentment for him. This only grew when his father seemingly abandoned his family to work offworld on Arcadia in 2545. A year later, Jason ran away from home, caught a ride to Reach on a shipping freighter, and worked at odd jobs. When he learned of Arcadia's glassing in 2549, he took it hard. He looked for a higher purpose and started volunteering at youth ministries. By 2552, he was heavily considering enlisting in hte UNSC. He got wind of the local militia recruiting and decided that was a good stepping stone to start off with. Skills: Jason grew up wrestiling with his little brother and never lost. Ironically, his little brother was the more athletic of the two. He fights intellectually and is good at countering and submitting. He's also a natural at shooting. Not really a sniper kind of person, but handy with a rifle and able to put consecutive hits on target.