George Starr Peppard, also known as the “Colonel”, is the man in charge of PAF. A marine commander with a total amount of fourty years in the force, he is responsible for the military strategies and techniques against terrorists, criminals, murderers and dangerous psycopaths such as the Balloon Master. The army is the family he never had, covering 19 years of depression with a irresponsible father who murdered his own wife, leaving the Starr brothers in the streets. Being the younger one, Peppard had to see how his brother faced society itself. The obsession his brother had for order is something George always admired, an obsesion that would lead both brothers into the US army. Years in the force, in the face of horror and despair, he saw half of his first squad die at the hands of the Master, he saw his best men being tossed around like ragdolls by Johnson, he saw himself tied to a chair as the villian known as “Two Face” tossed a coin, over and over again, letting lady luck decide Peppard’ fate…He has seen some shit beyond human comprehension, shit that wakes him in the middle of the night, both eyes covered in tears and both of his hands mindlessly searching for a invisible neck to snap. Over the course of the years in the army, he became as merciless as the criminals he was supposed to fight. With a bunch of people who shared the same idee, the idea that the law is never enough, the idea that bad dogs don’t deserve a second chance and someone must put them down; PAF was born as a ilegal military organization, piercing between the veins of the capitalism and killing criminals from the shadows. They were known as the Watchmen and their reputation was something the Colonel never liked. After the 5th attack to the Eiffel Tower by Poison, which left half of Europe in the darkness of a endless green fog that made your skin itch so much to the point your body wants to tear it apart with your own nails, the “Starr path” gained a lot of recognition, with the Colonel himself “murdering” Rizal. Since that day, Captain Spark always had to deal not only with villians but with rutheless watchmen of the streets. Then the “Train Rampage” happened: The Rocket Man suffered a nervous breakdown caused by stress and depression which sent him running around the city, breaking through Boston central train station and crushing everything near him, carrying a passenger car and murdering thousands of citizens. 10 hours of shooting, reloading, hide and seek. Spark tried to talk with Walsh, but its impossible to talk to someone while that person is being covered in a cloud of bullets. Finally, Rocket Man’ armor was torn apart, fatal injuries to his chest and blood started to fall under Walsh’ feet. The Colonel gave the order to cease fire as he pulled out his own handgun. He wanted to finish Walsh’ life personally, as a sign to the people of the world, a sign that forgiveness is useless, an special sign for Spark and the people who followed him. A single punch to the jaw. Handgun hits the floor. Starr is unconcious. Walsh is cluelesss. Spark teleported right in front of Peppard and delivered a single fist to the face. Veteran soldiers say that the person known as George Starr Peppard died that day. The colonel became what he had sworn to fight.
The Commander room opens. The Colonel steps in, as several assistants follow him. He makes some sort of signal as the heroes start to see millions and millions of soldiers coming out of nowhere, all of them aiming for the goodoers heads. A sun facing an ant. The Colonel reads several notes the assistants gave him in a small notepad as he slowly walks towards the heroes. He heads from the left to the right, as if he is a teacher or a lecturer.
The Colonel stops, he throws the notepad away, he stares at Crona for several minutes, he pulls out his handgun and then he shoots the red mage’s ribs. The moment he pulls out his gun, every soldier in the medical bay instantly load their weapons as thousands of red dots start to appear on our heroes’ heads. The Colonel proceeds to punch Crona’ ribs over and over again as the mage screams in pain.
You know that feeling? Pain? That unpleasant feeling often caused by your body being too weak for the world you are supposed to defend? You don’t even know pain, maggot. When the bloody doctor told me about your sorry ass dropping blood all over MY ship, I almost laughed of how much of a drag queen you are. Yelling, screaming, you think those theatrics will make the enemy feel sorry for ya? You are in a war that your elecric asshole caused, a war that involved millions and millions of different resources and even my own sanity. You are angry becouse you are now into other’s people business? Life is a shit son, you never get to choose anything, you never get to choose if you want to get kidnapped or not, you never get to choose a side, you are BORN with it but I am not merciless at all..Since you desperately want the opportunity to feel like a true hero, I’ll give you a scar that your body will remember until the end of the days, a injury that you could have prevented but saddly you didn’t..just like a true hero am I right?
Starr quickly cleans his hands with his own suit, leaving several blood stains on his suit, as he walk towards Thardan and company.
Oh look over here! A ORDER! How cuuute! A order, by definition, is an organization with rules that forces the members to assume several responsabilities..Or maybe not according to what my boys told me. You know what kind data I got from your asses? “They are clueless, they are always lost, they are always asking for stuff, they don’t even know this and that.” My god kids, get yourself a good pair of primary school books and start to read them inmediatly becouse you are actually making me feel sorry for you. What kind of responsability do you have apart from wearing the same damn clothes, having that albino covered face and talking about magic the whole damn day? The responsability to be a complete douchebag while millions and millions of men face war itself as you just look at the sky and wonder why the hell your brain is so bloody small that it doesn’t allow you to think clearly? You think this is like school where little brats read and suck every piece of information of the world inside damn paper while being constantly punched by a group of bullies? Well ladies, you are staring at the bully right now and what this bully wants is for you to stop being a disgrace to your family, to your kind and to the society where you come from. What..PART…OF…THIS..DON’T…YOU…LADIES..UNDERSTAND?
The Colonel proceeds to walk towards the JoJos, Doomguy, Tager and Veteran.
Equipment is expensive, important, a vital piece of this organization, a tool that men and women use to punish those who dare to don’t stare at the law. Weeks of nothing but a endless work for a few bucks, iron and steel thrown into a trash can as MY tanks are being torn in battle but not by the enemy..by a pack of assholes instead, who think they are smart enough to: Jump on top of a truck, use a ally’ tank as a fucking bat and more and more and more. There is a whole list waiting for me in my bedroom, a list of property damage you magggots did and that I have to explain to the president. Now what am I supposed to say? The “so called” heroes don’t even care about the technology the army uses to help them? They are deaf and plain retarded? They are as unprofessional as a group of amateurs in their first day in Alcatraz? My god, I wish I had enough time to extract every damn cent you have in your soul to pay for those tanks. Specially both of you, the so called “Brothers of destruction”. Half of the people in this medical bay think that unnecesary show you maggots pulled out to take down a Strider was cool becouse spinning, punching and grappling is better than using a single move such as a rocket launcher, neutralize the monster legs and then pierce through his brain. Instead, just toss him around like a ragdoll..Its not like there are tons of officers in the city who would never expect a Strider to fall on their heads. You two, giant pieces of meatball, you two will later talk with the ministry of public building and works. I will not go to the grave until I see you rebuilding all of those towers you destroyed with your own fat hands.
OOC: It ain’t over.