Quinten Westbrook

[blueprint]

Quinten Westbrook

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Full Name- Quinten Raymond Westbrook III
Nicknames-
CIA: Agent Westbrook
Delta Force callsign: Scarecrow
Gender- Male
Occupation-
1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta [Delta Force]- Capt. (Captain)
Central Intelligence Agency [CIA]- Special Activities Division Agent
Age- 29
Date of Birth- January 19, 1982
Sexual Orientation- Heterosexual
Location- -CLASSIFIED-
Faction- Military? (How would mine work?)
Celebrity Claim- Somerhalder, Ian
What should we call you?- Brody/Blue
Play anyone else?- Not on this site
Have You Read the Rules?- Zombies, man. They creep me out... (Just a bit)

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Personality-

Quinten is a perfectionist and just completing any task would not satisfy him if it was done in a sloppy manner. For Quinten, everything has to be precise and to close perfection for him to be content with the results. If perfection is not achieved, Quinten will remain persistent and do whatever it is to make the job complete.

In the military he had always been the perfect soldier who followed orders without question. Morally uncompromising, Quinten is able to carry out cold tasks such as killing with an emotionless efficiency. He is a true born killer who is remorseless when claiming any life. Highly loyal to his country and also to his cause, Quinten is willing to sacrifice his own safety if it means getting the job done.

Unlike some people in hectic situations, Quinten always retains an eerie calmness around him. Through the harsh training he underwent during his time in the Marines and later in Delta Force, Quinten has been trained to turn off his emotions. As a result, he can often be seen as a very cold figure. However, it also results him to become courageous as he knows not of fear.

Westbrook hates any games of cloaks and daggers and rather be blunt and tackle obstacles face to face. He is a very honest man and hates any sort of dishonesty.

Likes-

• Being in control
  
• Guns
  
• Honesty
  
• Fast moving vehicles
  
• Precision
  

Dislikes-

• Dishonesty
  
• Disloyalty
  
• Arrogance
  
• Recklessness
  
• Deception
  

Strengths-

• Calm
  
• Courageous
  
• Intuitive
  
• Loyal
  
• Persistent
  

Weaknesses-

• Speed freak
  
• Control freak
  
• Morally uncompromising
  
• Blunt
  
• Callous
  

Skills-

• Expert Martial Artist
  
• Sharpshooter
  
• Demolition expert
  
• Weapon expert
  
• Master Swordsman
  

Flaws-

• Perfectionist
  
• Self-righteous
  
• Remorseless
  
• Overzealous
  
• Judgmental
  

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Hair- Brown. Due to being on mission, Quinten's hair is a bit wild and uncut.
Eye Color- Blue
Race- Caucasian
Physique- Athletic
Height- 178 cms
Weight- 154 lbs


Birthplace- Fairbanks, Alaska
Mother- Mary Ford
Father- Joshua Westbrook
Siblings- Joan Westbrook
Other- None

History-
Born on January 19, 1982 and raised in Fairbanks, Alaska, Quinten was raised up in the wilderness, away from the big spiraling cities. He spent his youth hunting elk and grizzlies in the Alaskan wilderness with his father; as such, he is adept in cold weather environments and is an excellent sniper (at the age of 19 he became the youngest Wimbledon Cup winner in the history of the marksmanship competition). Not only was Quinten born with a keen eye and steady fingers, Quinten was also a great fencer and kenshi on his spare time winning multiple awards and trophies. Inspired by Japanese samurai movies in his youth, Quinten began training in the way of the sword. Not only did it greatly enhance his skill with a sword, it also helped train his body to move with great agility and speed, both of which will help him in the future.

Quinten's grandfather had fought in WWII, and his father was part of the local sheriff in the town he grew up in. This prompted Quinten to be a very patriotic individual, causing him to become a military serviceman upon his graduation.

Westbrook enlisted into the USMC and served with exemplary distinction which resulted in rise of rank within the Marines. Quinten gained much of his combat experience fighting in the War in Afghanistan. During this conflict, his ability to lead men and adapt to the ever changing battlefield caused his officers to promote him.

During a rescue mission which involved rescuing two reporters who had been kidnapped by Al Qaeda, Quinten was shot twice by enemy fire. Despite being wounded, he still carried out the objective and completed the mission, rescuing both reporters before seeking seriously needed medical treatment. His strong will and great physical capabilities brought the US Army's elite and secretive counter-terrorism and special operations unit, 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta, also known as Delta Force, to draft him within their ranks.

Over a period of extensive training, Quinten soon became a weaponry expert. Through grueling months of unimaginable exercises, Westbrook was slowly molded into the perfect weapon. Knowledge of espionage, stealth action, demolition, and tactician were drilled into Quinten like programs being hardwired into a hard drive. Not long after, Quinten returned back into action, but this time the war took him to Iraq to utilize these new skills he had earned. Under cover, Delta Force operatives were sent behind enemy lines prior to the invasion of Iraq. Through many months, Westbrook underwent highly classified black ops which included search and destroy as well as assassination missions, all of which he carried out with efficiency and precision. Having gone above and beyond the normal line of duty required of a US soldier, as well as showing great capacity to lead, Quinten was promoted to Captain.

Quinten's military achievements was noted by the higher ups of the CIA. Within a year after the Saddam's regime fell in Iraq, Westbrook was contacted by a CIA operative in Washington D.C. who recruited him for their Special Activities Division. Through a CIA handler, Westbrook was not only part of Delta Force but also an agent for the CIA. Through the command of the CIA, Westbrook was sent around the world, preforming anything his duty requires of him. As a result of the top secret nature of his work, his contact with all previous friends and family were severed and to most, it was as if he never did exist. During this time, Quinten began honing on his skills. To those who know him, they whisper his name in fear, for Westbrook has becoming the CIA's sword, disposing anyone who pose a threat to the United States of America.

Upon the outbreak of the initial infestation, Quinten was out of the country on a top secret mission in Europe. As all the soldiers out of the country, Quinten was called back to help be part of the homeland security and help ensure the survival of the nation in a time of such crisis. And this is where his story begins...

Anything else?- No

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Sample RP-

Quinten sat in silence in the driver's seat of a beat up black Honda civic. He was wearing normal civilian clothes with just a plain black v-neck t-shirt and blue jeans with a black belt. Westbrook was also wearing a pair of black gloves and had a switch blade in his back pocket, a M-9 pistol holstered to his right side, and a silver Rolex watch strapped to his left wrist which had the time 11:45 pm. It was a dark cloudless night outside with the only source of light coming from a neon sign for a strip club across the street that read PUSSYCATZ and the street lights that ran down both sides of the block. Despite being night time, he was in Brazil, and the weather was always hot. Having only a tiny bit of his tinted window rolled down in order to still disguise him within, Quinten was majorly sweating.

Westbrook had been waiting for couple of hours in the car, though despite the great heat he did not grow impatient, just a tad bit of discomfort. Patience was a virtue he had an unlimited amount of ever since his Delta Force training back in the day. The man he was after was already here, all he had to do was to wait. Like a lion waiting in the tall grass near a water pool, he knew his prey would come, it was just a matter of time. His mission was simple, eliminate a highly dangerous mobster and notorious arms dealer, Andreas Bolvgar who was helping fund the drug cartels who were like a disease in Rio de Janeiro. Quinten had taken a good amount of time studying the picture of the man that the CIA provided. This Bolvgar man was short and plump with a hooked nose and a bald head. He was not much to look at, but was still a very dangerous man. His CIA handler had briefed him on the mission just two weeks prior about the possible locale of the individual. Despite the vastness of the city, Westbrook knowing certain individuals who had contact with Bolvgar, and utilizing his extensive knowledge of torture which he gained from the CIA, was able to track the man down in two days.

Upon locating the individual, Quinten had quickly kept a close eye to his movements, trying to find a pattern and find a time and possible place where the man was least guarded. At first it was hard as Bolvgar seemed to be swamped by armed guards wherever he went. Here in the favelas of Rio, in places where cops dare not go, anyone could carry a gun in the open with no worry of arrests. However, it was not long until Westbrook had found the right moment.

Having tailgated the man for sometime, he had found a pattern. This Bolvgar had a notorious taste for woman as it seems and often spent his time in the company of women at the Pussycatz strip club. As per usual, Bolvgar and his men would arrived with 3 cars, all of which were black sedans. One car was parked one block up and the two other ones, including the one that carried Bolvgar, parked on the other block. He had counted a total of eleven guards all dressed in matching black suits and each armed with an AK-47 assault rifle in their hands, though Westbrook had no doubt there were other concealed weapons. Eight of the men remained by the cars with two standing by the entrance of the strip club and one inside with Bolvgar. To be honest, of all the men Westbrook had dealt with, this was probably one of the worst guarded man.

After a long drawn out wait, the prey finally revealed himself. Escorted by three barely clad women and one armed guard, Andreas Bolvgar finally revealed himself as he stepped out of the strip club. Wasting no time, Quinten quickly drew out his pistol with his right hand, while with his left, screwed on a silencer. In one smooth motion he opened and slid through the door as he approached the men. One of the two armed guards who had stood vigilant at the entrance snapped to attention first and raised his weapon at Westbrook.
"PARA!" he shouted in Portuguese angrily. With no hesitation at all, Quinten directed his gun at the man and pulled the trigger. With a quick pop, the bullet lodged itself right in between the eyebrows of the man. As the dead guard dropped, a shrill scream went up as the three women started crying out. Westbrook felt adrenaline surge through his body as all hell broke loose. With clean precision and swift agility, he popped two more shots, both of which hit the other two guardsmen. One of the dying man had pulled the trigger of his rifle as he fell, unleashing a wave of bullets that flew wildly in the air. Though they flew wide off target, the combined sound of the gunfire and the screaming women drew the attention of the guards within the cars. Luckily for Quinten, the idiot Bolvgar had placed all his trust on his guards and had not himself carried a weapon. Instead he had grabbed one of the fallen guns as well as one of the girls, holding in between Westbrook and himself at gun point.
"Back off." he stammered in broken English. Without pause, Quinten aimed the pistol at the woman Bolvgar was holding hostage and pulled the trigger quickly three times. The bullet punched through the woman and into Bolvgar as well, killing both instantly. In combat, there is always collateral damage.

Dashing forwards he holstered his pistol while picking up one of the fallen AK-47s with his other hand and stumbled through the front entrance of the strip joint. Behind him he heard gunfire as the other guardsmen having arrived fire relentlessly at the front door. He heard a brief scream before it was cut off signalling the other two girls were gunned down in the ensuing gunfire.

Inside, he found himself in a lobby like waiting area which had red velvet sofas lined along the side and at the centre a giant wooden desk with a man in a blue jacket behind it. Westbrook had no time to examine whether or not the man was hostile or not and instead aimed the assault rifle he had just scavenged and with one brief tug of the trigger took the man down before hopping over the desk and sheltered behind it. Outside, the guards relentlessly fired into the front entrance, shattering glass and devastating everything in a bullet storm. Dropping the rifle, Quinten brought up his left wrist and with his right hand pressed a concealed button on the side of his Rolex watch. A huge explosion erupted outside and the very world around Quinten rippled as outside, the Honda civic went up in flames as the C-4 Westbrook had planted was triggered. In aftermath of the hellfire, it grew quite outside as the only sound left was that of the burning scrap of metal which used to be a car. Cautiously, Westbrook got up and walked towards the entrance and back out onto the street, holding the AK-47 tightly around his fingers, eyes looking down the body of the gun and through the iron sight. Looking to his left and to his right he saw what remained of Bolvgar's guards. A couple were seriously injured, if not dead, blood trickling down the side of their faces. Most importantly though, being so close to the blast radius, those that might have survived, was knocked out by the trauma.

With his work done, Westbrook quickly dropped the rifle and quickly ran down the street with haste before the local police force arrived. If the firefight had not drawn their attention, the explosion definitely would have. Dodging through alleyways and making twists and turns, Westbrook finally found himself far away from the crime scene and only then did he pick up a small black cellphone in his back pocket and punched in the number which he was told to call upon completion.
"This is Westbrook. Target is down, requesting extraction."