Marco Ortega

[Deleted]

MARCO ORTEGA

"I know. You want to ask me out. All the foxy ladies love my accent.
It drives them crazy." Carlos Oliviera

Full Name - Marco Esteban Ortega
Nicknames/Alias - N/A
Age - 34
Date of Birth - January 17th, 2486
Place of Birth - Disraeli
Gender - Male
Sexual Orientation - Heterosexual
Affiliation - Neutral
Occupation - Contractor

Play-By - Oded Fehr
Build - Broad, Muscular
Height & Weight - 6' 1½", 185 lbs
Hair - Black
Eyes - Brown
Unique Features - Nothing particularly unique. He has an accent from being on Disraeli.
Dressing Style - Usually just dressed in something comfortable like jeans or slacks. When he's on the job, Marco prefers a light tactical approach, and wears clothes suited to hotter climates and sand.
Other - He has Anya's name tattoo'd on his left butt cheek, as she does his. Although, I doubt you'd ever get a good look at that...

Likes - Marco has led an odd life adrift with his wife, and they spend most of their time, for better or worse, with each other. He is utilitarian to a fault, but also enjoys a rich life within the boundaries of the Opinicus. His joys rather reflect that.

• Anya in the morning, before she's awake enough to start complaining, and honestly, who doesn't enjoy a hot wife?
• Tesurban Whiskey in large doses.
• Quick sly wit, and hard skinned people.
• A solid fight that's fair and where both parties put forth their best.
• A good problem to work out, something that takes time to work through, and fortunes the best man with the spoils.

Dislikes -As I said, Marco spends most of his time on a rather small ship with Anya, and while this can and does contribute many things to his life, it can also have some negative affects.

• Anya's dad. He's not on their ship or anything, but Marco isn't looking forward to ever seeing the guy again.
• Mint or spearmint.
• Haggling or prices changing at the last second.
• Maintenance or any type of repair work, if it requires having to dig through tons of research to draw up how to change even a windshield wiper, that's why Marco has a job, to pay someone else to do it.
• Anya about twenty minutes after she wakes up, and realizes that there is something she doesn't like happening.
• People trying to play him against his wife or vice versa. Just because they fight and bicker, don't try to come in between them.

Quirks/Habits - Marco enjoys pranks, and will laugh and point if someone allows themselves to be on the butt end of a joke.
Fears - That Anya will do something incredibly stupid and get herself killed.
Secrets - Marco is from a poor planet, and was the lowest of those with social status when he was very young. Since he left Constance he has hidden this part of his life, and never even speaks his native tongue, just the primaries.
Strengths -

• Handling an automatic! This guy has spent years fighting with his hands, but along with that street fighting, he has learned the value of close quarters combat, but he is at his best in mid range encounters. If you're within fifty feet of the man, and you two are trying to kill one another, watch your back!
• Astronomy, not just that he knows a lot about the system he flies about in, but where you can go to be off the radar in certain systems.
• Slick talking people, and running up the price on goods.

Weaknesses -

• Can spend too much time trying to figure out a way to avoid a fight. Can cause delays on a job, or send his wife off on thinking she can do something better and faster, which can lead to even more delays...
• Overdependent on his friends and family to come up with a solid plan. That doesn't mean that he won't do it, but meh.
• Anya's smile, and telling her "No".

Talents/Special Abilities -

• Darts to the point of cheating. It's one of many ways that Marco brings a few extra shekels into the coin purse.
• Explosives. Not the big stuff, although give him a chance! Household items and things he finds, it's amazing how much stuff will go boom if you apply the proper proportions.
• Remembering details that his wife forgets.

Aspirations -

• Enjoying every day he has to live, and causing as much trouble as he can.
• Imparting one fifth of his knowledge to his poor understudied wife.

Overall Personality -

[/i] Don't get it twisted, Marco loooooves to see his own family succeed, and his first gift is always to his wife and himself, but after that, he'll help if he can. He has a strong work ethic if you can call scavenging work. Not just salvage jobs either, but bounties as well. Anya lives on this edge of danger that is just scary enough to keep him feeling exhilarated, and that is also something he has found he enjoys above all things, a rush. All in all, it's those little moments of life that most people refer to as "Memories" that he enjoys living out. When he and Anya are old and grey, he wants to be able to look back, and know they did all they could do, while they could still do it.[/ul]

Father - Sudador Ortega
Mother - Catherine Ortega
Siblings - N/A
Other Significant People - Anya Marie Kovach Ortega
Pets - N/A
Your History -
Marco is what you would call a child of two worlds. His and Anya's. Before he became the man he is today, Marco was just a child on a small rim world, who's parents struggled to provide the most basic of human privilege. Like, food and water. This wasn't due to any particular life choice made by his parents, they were just in what you might call, a bad situation. In 2491, the atmosphere of Disraeli was on the brink, and a drought kicked off, that would go on to last seven years, and wreak havoc on the crops of the moon. In the summer of 2495, the Government stepped in and offered aid to struggling families, which the Ortega's certainly qualified for, and helped move many of them to the surface of the planet that Disraeli orbited, Constance. So it came to pass that at nine years of age, with only a a third grade education and a hard knock life sustained, the young Marco found himself living in the largest shantytown that Constance had ever witnessed, or would witness again for some time. The re-start of government education programs was put on hold, and all refugee's were put on government aid programs, leaving the Ortega's with land they couldn't pay to be rid of, and loans from refinancing a decade prior, that they could not pay off.

Needless to say, he wasn't well liked via his social status.

But that doesn't matter to everyone, like for instance, a young kid named Mato Dukovac whom Marco met at the young age of fourteen. Up until this point in his life, the shanty he'd grown up in was just too dangerous for little children to go out and play in. But at fourteen, Marco started doing his own thing. When he was eleven, schools had finally been set up, but by then, Marco wasn't really into the whole, "Be the best you can be!" bit anymore. That's not to say that he was the worst by any means, he just wasn't the best. If ever there were a kid who just gave up on the system, it was Marco. So meeting a troubled kid like Mato was all the excuse Marco needed to ditch what was left at his shot at a respectable life, and start enjoying what he could. Like all kids with nothing in their pockets, and no future ahead, Marco discovered the joys of fermentation, females, and felonies. Mato's particular cup of tea was B&Es and petty theft. The Ortega's had nothing, so the promise of a reward of any kind at the end of the day made any means worth it, and Marco just quite frankly didn't care about the consequences. Besides, the shanty was a no-man's land as far as lawmen went. Little punks like Mato and Marco were no threat, but they weren't the only ones living there that had grown to dislike anything official, as most of the broken lives in the shanty blamed their misfortunes on the government, as has been the custom of the poorer classes since... well. It's just always been that way I suppose.

The point was, that though neither of the boys combined were even half of a threat to a grown man, they had grown mutually relaxed about breaking every law they pleased. Naturally, Marco wanted to impress everyone and be the alpha dog, therefore, he pulled the craziest crap. Even went so far as to set fire to a bar once in the middle of the night, and he and his 'friends' danced around the fire until the authorities showed up. But life was missing something for Marco, that he saw all around him, and had no real chance at having. Family. In the face of his friends, he would never admit this, but alone at night in his home, his father gone off into the night, and his mother asleep on medications, Marco just hated where he was. So he drowned it out, and Mato, who was ever at his side, fueled his fire at every turn. The first time Marco stole a landcar, he was fifteen, and the first time he threw a molotov through a business front was just a month later. And pawn shops were his new best friends. Marco learned what was valuable for its makeup, and not its size, so that he could steal less, and make more.

And that was his life for two years, until his mother caught him one day by happenstance. She was pawning off her wedding ring, in lieu of his family's hard times, while he was pawning someone else's, for a Thursday night drink. Marco and she never spoke again after that.  She was ashamed and told him not to come back. He was tired of sleeping on a government issue cot and pretending that he was satisfied with this being their "Lot in life" just to appeal to his parent's dwindling state of self worth. So Marco left home and never looked back. Technically, he left that pawn shop, but he did return there again. Some things changed that year though, some changed that night. Mato had never invited Marco to his home before, but that night, out of pity, he did. And Mato's father had a home right on the edge of the shanty on the south side. It was a old style farm, raising chickens for eggs and meat. It would have been a nice little dig, save for the depleted property value of the home deflating just after he'd payed his own debts off. But it had an extra room, and from that, Marco was allowed to rent. Mato's father also made things right between Marco and his father, though his mother would have none of it. And so, Marco's dream of family continued to fall. And this was how he spent his last year in that section of his life. Fifteen miles from his parents home, and no further from poverty or shedding his family name.

The year Marco turned seventeen, things changed radically for him. Not his general life's structure, but his motives, and with that, his future. That's when he met this crazy little girl, one night out with his friends. She wasn't rich or proper, but she had that spark of innocence that attracts guys like Marco Ortega, to gals like Anya Kovach. It wasn't that she wasn't a good person, she just enjoyed a good rush, which Marco was all too happy to supplement when she looked his way, so long as she just kept looking. It's funny what you remember and what you don't. Marco can recite his entire life's story up until meeting Anya. After that, it became a hazy blur, and years seemed not to matter anymore. The truth of it was that she would want to go out all night, and Marco worked all day, so he was up all night and day just to see her as often as possible. The two got into as much trouble as you can imagine, from breaking into places for the luxuries they couldn't afford, to picking fights with noblemen's children. And not just Marco, Anya was a scrapper as well. And they spent way too much time exploring each other as well as the counties. When Marco was seventeen, nearly eighteen, Anya's father Mongoloid, sorry, Magnus caught the two in her bedroom. Marco made it out of the house, but Magnus didn't relent from the fight at his door, he shoot at Marco with a 12 gauge pump. Marco still has the pellets in his leg to prove it, and told Anya later that pain, even this, was worth enduring to see her.

As far as Mongoloid (Magnus) went, he and Marco never saw eye to eye. To Mongoloid, Marco's only redeeming feature was being wanted and the possibility of being taken away to jail if he could only be caught. To Marco well, Mongoloid made Anya, and... He was sure to die sooner or later, the prick was a drunk right? The plain fact was that Marco had one solid twenty four hour a day goal with Anya and he made no bones about telling Mongoloid that straight to his face. And no honesty didn't help on that one, it didn't turn out well for Marco either. He had a huge ego, and a short temper, and in his youth, Marco weighed about a buck ten. Anya once overheard him describe himself as having a "Chisel Chest" and she continuously corrected him that he had a "Chicken Chest". Another fact was that he lost a lot of fights, and Anya spent a lot of time listening to him explain how he was cheated from victory.

The first time he'd met her though, Marco knew she was the one he wanted. Call it loneliness, call him pretentious, say some lusterfull bs about how Marco just made her his dream of a future with a family. Whatever, the fact was that to him, she was everything. And it wasn't perfect. Anya shot him down many times, even after they'd started being physical. And that only amped up as time went by. But she never left his side for long. The memory that Marco became her's after, was the first time Mongoloid decided he was truly bad news. They'd gone out together, the first time that Marco'd ditched Mato to be with Anya. She'd only been sixteen, and wanted above all else, to steal something like her new found friends did. Marco led her in the endeavor, and together, they stole a landcar in the city. Anya drove them the whole night like a wild woman, beaming like a star, and laughing at everything they did, be it destruction of property, or simply outrunning the local tin. It was a very fast landcar. Two blocks down from the headquarters of the local Marshal's office, Anya smashed into a closed pub, it had been somewhere around two in the morning. They crawled out of the landcar, and the two studiously checked each other for trauma. After they were... cleared of injuries by each other, they snagged several bottles of high end alcohol and hot footed it down the back alleys to the first fire escape they saw (A mere two blocks away, they were young and stupid).  They climbed up, got plastered, and passed out together. Turns out, that was the headquarters of the Marshal's office.

After their subsequent arrest, Marco's father came and bailed them out, and he instructed his son to return her home, and explain their predicament. He did as he was told, and this was the first time he was banned from seeing Anya. Marco was destroyed, she hadn't spoken a word to him all afternoon, and then at the worst time, while he was being cursed up and down and practically beaten by her father, she wouldn't look at him. Marco knew he'd gone too far, and he'd lost her. That following night, when Marco's dad went to work, he snuck out to go get drunk and meet a girl to forget about the angel he'd just lost. That was when she'd found him. And from that point forward, Marco loved this woman only.

That wasn't the turning point though. In fact, it was long before she actually dumped him. However, we will skip ahead to the real change of his life, when the Kovachs, moved away. Marco had pleaded with Anya to stay, to run away with him, to let them make their own way. He was full of romantic ideas, and nurturing a false belief that simply getting married would somehow transform the two into decent citizens the way it seemed to work for everyone else. But she didn't. She didn't even entertain the notion, and after they moved, she started fading from his life. Or more aptly, he started fading from hers. At first, Marco got a wave from her daily, and she would tell him about her new job, and her new friends. Her father had opened some bar (figured) and was actually pretty good at it for an old, ignorant, cranky, broke drunk. And she was the new hot gal that all the city boys gawked over. She'd probably told him just to poke at him at first. But then, she only waved him every couple of days. Then, every other week. Then, once a month he got a recorded wave that seemed like an afterthought before she was hitting the hay.

Anya had all but moved on with her life and he knew that he'd become nothing more to her than a memory of her 'wild years'. But that wouldn't do at all. Marco started saving every dime he could, from work, and theft, determined to go after the woman he wanted. It didn't happen quickly. Anya hadn't told him where she was living, he only knew the city. But her father owned a bar, and she apparently worked there some of the time, so he decided to start there. Maybe after her jacka... father saw how much he'd improved, he'd be more lenient. So Marco saved from the farm and B&E's and decided that once he got to the big city, he'd go straight. No more craziness, no more crime, just a calm smooth family man whom Anya could depend on, and settle down with. If that was what she wanted, then dammit, that's what he would be. On the fourth month that he hadn't heard from her at all, Marco had, had enough, and packed his belongings, what few there were, and headed to the big city, renting a room, and looking for a job. He'd told himself that he wouldn't call on her until he'd had a job, and could not only support himself, but her as well, then, he'd move in on her, and sweep her off her feet. After all, it was Anya, deep down, she really did love him.

But that first night there, in the same city, he just couldn't stand it anymore, Marco waved her personal line. But it had been changed, and she hadn't bothered to tell him. Now, that irked him, but didn't change his mind about what he was going to do. Marco waved an old friend of theirs and explained that he'd of course gotten his new box, and forgot to save her information like an idiot, blablabla, and she'd given it straight to him without hesitation, thinking none the wiser about it. After several failed attempts to reach her over the cortex, Marco just said to hell with it, and went to her father's bar, after all, it was all he had to go on. He had intended to explain that he was a changed man, and that he'd matured greatly in their few months apart, as anyone could tell, and that he wanted to simply court the man's daughter, and sorry about all the mess before, and let's let bygones be bygones and start fresh, whattaya say ol' pal?

Magnus did not see it this way at all. So, this started a first rate argument, and some fists were thrown, and of course in the end, Marco was yet again, banned from his daughter's sight. As though that had ever stopped him. Rather than go out and get that job, or try to fix that snafu with her father, Marco waited for Anya herself to stop by, then followed her to her work, where she was a waitress. He was very proud of her, all ladylike and proper and all, she had really grown too. And so had those around her grown attached to her. Some, too much. But she remembers this first day he set eyes on her differently than he does. Her employer was simply in a foul mood already, and he'd tracked in some dirt from their own parking lot, and it was just a big misunderstanding, and he was not overreacting about being asked to leave. He will to this day however, agree with her that this kid, big Money Banks or whatever, was just way too interested in his girl.

After a very abridged discussion, Marco found himself on the rejected side of the "We were just kids" conversation, and the door was figuratively slammed in his face, after a very non figurative slam earlier that day. She was just playin it hard to get, and that he knew was simply her style. She should be hard to get, she wasn't some trophy wife, she was a trophy of life. She did wave him that night though, and berated him about stalking her or something. Marco couldn't wipe his grin off, she was there and he was happy. And before the ten minute 'wave of his life' was over, she smiled at him affectionately, and agreed to share a drink with him. Marco was no fool. He'd seen her with the tall, ruttin' prick (Spanks or whatever) and decided that she'd just been trying to forget about him. It's what her family had wanted, and she didn't know he was coming for her all those months, and she would let the kid down easy. Besides, he'd only gotten Anya to a restaurant and a few glasses of crap in a cup. Marco took her out to the end of the pier for a half gallon and moonlight. He was sure that she liked the whole city slicker thing, but he knew her heart, and her heart was a mustang.

Anya couldn't make up her mind though, and despite his best efforts, she continued to see the rich kid. Now, Anya doesn't know this, even unto the current day, but Marco and Banks had spoken when she wasn't around, more than once. He'd done some threatening of the rich kids life, the kid had done some threatening of Marco's career, and the two generally had ended up in good old fashioned hatred. Each wanting the girl. Neither made their move until Marco caught wind of this 'boat party' that was pretty well renowned. The guys would get a bunch of sluts together, and head out to the islands for a little fun, and wouldn't you know it, the rich boy was the lead rooster, and he was all about taking Anya. Marco lost his world renowned cool about it. Even went so far as to go onto the boat at the docks, and drag the kid onto his own deck, to begin a full on duel. The duel turned into an epic stomping, where Marco was the impressionist showcasing the local gym's punching bag as his main event.

He never gave up though, and was eventually thrown, he was literally thrown which was more a pain to his ego than body, onto the docks, where Anya stood on his side, and literally cussed everyone present. The boat left without her, and when you heard everyone a second ago, that meant everyone. She even cussed Marco and throttled his already bruised body of her own anger. But Marco didn't even care. She could have left with the boat, gone off and partied, and forgotten the troubles of this lonesome, loathsome kid who'd just lost outright for the pride portion of winning. But he'd really won. She was after all, right there with him. So through it all, every curse, every angry slap and punch, every scream, he just stared at her through tender, black eyes, and waited for her to calm enough to take her hand. When she finally sat exasperated and too winded to continue, he finally answered her raving question.

"He wasn't good enough for you."

That was the day that the two stopped playing about each other. And Marco learned that Anya could indeed be 'shut up' by simple words. She kissed him, or he kissed her, it didn't matter, and since that night, they hardly separated. But rich boy never tried to intervene again. Well, not with Anya. He did with Marco, about a week later. But he'd come at him one on one, and Marco had brass knuckles, and the rich boy had nothing but God's natural blessings. Can you guess how that one ended? So the rich boy never returned. Marco was getting tired of being avoided by Anya when her father called on her though, and more tired of being a moonie no matter where he went. It was his accent, and he couldn't shake it. So he started saving up for himself and Anya to get married, he bought her a necklace (on Constance it is a wedding necklace of bracelet for the woman, nothing for the man, but the Wedding Necklace was considered to be of higher social status) and prepared a honeymoon even she wouldn't have expected. Almost half of it was legitimately earned too!

When he asked her to marry him, Anya said yes with resounding joy, and they've both pretty much regretted/enjoyed it since. They are the perfect blend of stubborn, angry, short fused, attracted and insane to stay together through anything, to do anything. For instance, they stole the cruise ship that Marco had rented them for their honeymoon, and never even returned to get their left belongings. Anya says it was his idea, he says it was Anya's. Whoever's idea it was, that's what they did, and it has been their home for eight long/short years now. The two sailed it right out of the system, and into the next, and found themselves a whole pack of people who lived exactly how they wanted to. Free, and cheap, and rich. No rules, next to stealing everything they owned, and making a killing selling everything of value that they could scrounge up. On certain worlds in the Blue Sun System, there were just a ton of failed colonies. They were due to illness, chemical problems, Reaver attacks (rare but always good pickin's), natural disasters, bandits, hell... whatever. An abandoned colony was a wealth of trinkets left behind, and the people that theOrtegas fell in with, would take whatever. Sometimes, not often but sometimes, they created some 'issues' for people to run from, then moved in and did their thing. Not often, but hey, people gotta make a Plat right? And so that's the story of the Ortega's humble beginnings. A simple couple that hate/love each other until one of them causes death to do them part. They're mean when they need to be, kind when they're happy, generous when... er, let's not overdue it... They're two tons of fun and ready to get the job done!


Welcome to our story.

What should we call you? -  Onas
Roleplaying Experience - Three Weeks Writing!!!
Where did you find us? - Here from the start!
Prove Yourself - Screw you Roger, I'm not that smart!
Post Script - Marco has an epic beard!
Other characters - Onas, Vitale
How we should contact you - PM or skype at OnasJKnox
Roleplay Example -

Marco said to his wife, he lowered his binoculars, and pointed in the direction he meant. She didn't even look up at him.

"I can take him right now. From here. Job done."

"Babe... we aren't taking him from anywhere. Bounty is twice as much alive as it is dead, we need that money."

"If you could see what I could see-- I mean, I could shoot him in one ball and leave the other to cry about it." Her eye still hadn't left the scope, clearly impressed by just how good the scope was and not listening to a damn word said.

"Don't. Look, over there." He said, pointing again, and again she didn't look. "There's an opening wide as a highway, we could stroll right in and put him in cuffs. Plenty of places for you to sneak in."

"Bring me out here with this new toy, and you expect me not to shoot it?" Again, she was still buried in the scope.

"Babe." He looked down at her as she sighed.

"You have any idea how heavy this thing is?"

"I'll carry it down for you."

"Okay, how about I just tag him? One shot, clean through the kneecap, he screams about it, but he's still alive. Everyone wins." She asked, adjusting the sights, and baring her shoulder, which was a clear sign to him who knew his wife well, that she was preparing to fire.

"No."

"I'm doing it."

Marco rolled his eyes and mimed cussing. "Anya no. Alive means alive, he could bleed out you pop him with one of those rounds. And we agreed that we'd only shoot that thing if he tried to get away, and only to use it on his landcar. Besides, you don't want to shoot anywhere near there anyway, right behind him is a fuel.." The deafening sound that interrupted him mid word was bodily painful. Even through his hands that threw themselves up out of pure instinct to cover his eyes, the light from the blast was blindingly searing. The desert sand around them was hurled by them so fast, it was like a tidal wave of ferocious power! The noise was the most prevalent. His ears were ringing so hard, that Marco wasn't really sure when the sound stopped. At long last, the explosion settled, from dust it came, and to dust it returned, leaving behind a blackened crater, and two figures far away on a hilltop. Marco lowered his hand, and said one word, while surveying the damage done below. The word was the end of his earlier sentence, perhaps the blast was so powerful, it had temporarily stopped his brain.

"Cell."

His wife looked up to him slowly, dust covering her face and hair, and her eyes the only thing plainly visible. She had this expression of apology, and innocence, as though she hadn't really realized what she'd shot into down there. It was so pitifully sweet to see her like that, that he stopped being mad a heartbeat later and just sighed after she announced, "Uh... oops."

Marco looked back at the carnage. "Lets..." He started to walk without her, "Just go see if there's a toe left or something..."[/ul][/blockquote][/font][/font]

SYR INTEGRA of CAUTION 2.0 created this and she will happily hunt you down, rip out your spinal cord, and beat you to death with it if you steal her hard work and claim it as your own. especially since she will gladly share it with any and all who wish to use it, provided they leave her nice, little credit attached.

What the hell was that?

[/blockquote][/font][/font]

[Roger]