WARREN, Alexander Daley [wip]

[«Alex.!Query»]

are we human?

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<<the basics

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WARREN, ALEXANDER DALEY

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Nicknames/Aliases: Alex, Query (The latter was a codename he used as a teenager/young adult back in the real world. He used to have a "day job" as a professional hacker. Noticing the irony, he decided that name should stay with him once uploaded, even if the government recognizes it. Also, I figured he should have an epic winI'm cooler than youinteresting nickname since he's against the Net, but he's not actually "in the Resistance" because he's uploaded.)
Mental Age: 29
Chosen Appearance: Zachary Quinto
Alex's wardrobe depends entirely upon mood and situation. If he wants to look inconspicuous, he dresses in neutrally toned clothing: grey, white, beige, etc. If his attitude is positive and upbeat, he can be seen in slightly more cheerful colors. More often than not, Alex is spotted wearing one of his many black jackets, denim jeans, vests, button-down shirts, and boots. However, he's also partial to cargo pants, khakis, tennis shoes, t-shirts, belts, and suits. He never leaves his home without a watch. Furthermore, Alex stands at 6' 1", and weighs somewhere around 185 lbs. He has light skin, dark brown hair (which usually takes on a new style every few days), and dark brown eyes.
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual (straight)

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looking for the answer

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<<the personality

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Likes: (10+)
+ Studying
+ Gambling (cheating, as he counts cards)
+ Whiskeyalewhitewinevodkabrandy Certain alcoholic beverages
+ Being accurate all the time
+ Numbers, particularly statistics
+ Grecian/Roman/Egyptian mythology/history/archaeology
+ Coffee (he can use it as an excuse for his insomnia)
+ Grammar (another specialty he can wave in people's faces)
+ Quoting famous literature (and using it to prove his point)
+ Swearing, but not to the extreme (he may be articulate, although he uses profanity like everyone else)
+ Libraries
+ Museums (art/history/scientific)
+ Mints (a practical alternative to smoking, even though it wouldn't make a difference if he smoked)

Dislikes: (10+)
- Being alone
- Tight spaces
- Darkness
- The Net
- Being watched
- Cold days/nights
- Awkward silences
- Giving up
- Rain
- The fact that he can never get a good night's sleep
- People who have a knack for easily pissing him off
- Riding in the back seat of a vehicle
-

Positive Traits: (8) These should be an adjective or character trait followed by two or three sentences of explanation each.

+i. Reliable - If there were ever a guy you could always count on no matter the circumstances, it'd be Alex. He prides himself on accountability and responsibility. Whenever someone needs something solved, fixed, or worked on, generally they contact Alex, because they know he's always there when he's needed.

+ii. Inquisitive - A trait he picked up from his mother, Alex is motivated by curiosity, among other things. Always eager to learn, he often "spaced out" during school as a child, thinking. In fact, it was curiosity that made him agree to the upload willingly. He sympathizes with Eden, since she never knew what the real world was like, and he knows that curiosity can drive a person to so many extremes.

+iii. Patient - Alex has taught himself patience over the years, and it definitely pays off. When in an unfavorable mood, especially when someone disagrees with him, he tries to block out his opinions and listen to what's being said. Lately, certain things have prompted him to take the advice of others more frequently, and as a result, he appears even more patient on the surface.

+iv. Sociable - Perhaps a little too quintessential for his own good, Alex is quite the social idiotbutterfly. Speaking is practically breathing for him, and he enjoys finding excuses to talk to people on a regular basis. He'll strike up a conversation with anyone, from burly thugs to "beach babes." That is, once he's accessed every file he can about them to make sure they aren't Sentinels or government officials or anything.

+v. Tenacious -

+vi. Intelligent - While extremely mindful, he doesn't consider himself wise. Of course, he acknowledges that he knows a great deal, but he's not sure if he has the experience necessary to put his knowledge to the best possible use. (As if the Renaissance wasn't "the best possible use.") His mother used to tell him he should be proud of the gift he'd been given, put it to good use, blah blah blah. But Alex usually does what he wants, or what's in the best interest of others when appropriate. (Which is why counting cards at casinos is one of his favorite hobbies.) In the past, he had a part-time job as a professional hacker working for a local terrorist organization. (Looking back, he regrets it completely, yet he tries to put his acquired skills to use daily. This time, for a good cause.)

+vii. Prudent -

+viii. Sacrificial - When Alex weighs his own needs and desires with those of others, he puts others before himself every time. All his life he's believed that the plural outweighs the singular, that two is greater than one, that majorities are more important than minorities. One might interpret this negatively, thinking, "He's a double agent working for the government!" but that's quite the reverse. He's against the Net and all that it stands for, and is, like a few others, desperately trying to find a way out for all who wish to leave.

Negative Traits: (8) Same as positive traits, only negative.

-i. Secretive -

-ii. Tentative - For as long as he can remember, Alex was never the daredevil or the risk taker. He watched from the sidelines while his friends did all the crazy stuff. It still holds sway even now, as an adult. If it's too detrimental a risk, it's a risk to be avoided. This is the main reason Alex has refrained from contacted Eden. If the government discovers Renaissance now, it's all over.

-iii. Short-tempered -

-iv. Preoccupied -

-v. Forlorn -

-vi. Indecisive - One of the cons that comes with being a leader, he supposes. Lately, his ability to make large decisions has eluded him, and he frequently solicits the advice of fellow Renaissance members. Indecision didn't used to be a problem for Alex, but the controversy surrounding Eden coupled with the ever watchful eye of the government has made things more mentally challenging.

-vii. Cynical - At least, he doesn't believe that the real world and the Net will ever be able to coexist peacefully. Even if there really was a way out, they'd just be hunted down by Sentinels and forced back inside again. His mindset is this: one or the other. Furthermore, he mentally berates himself for being stupid enough to allow himself to be uploaded in the first place. (Note that the belief about peaceful coexistance is subject to change, as per his indecisiveness, but it would take a very clever person to convince him otherwise.)

-viii. Condescending - Patronization, arrogance, haughtiness, or sarcasm influenced by his intelligence. If someone makes a mistake, like, a really stupid mistake, Alex doesn't just call them on it. He practically explodes. And after he blows up is when the condescendsion begins. He reiterates how simple and obvious it was, how anyone could have figured it out, etc. Alex usually gets over it as quickly as it began.

Knowledge/Skills/Hobbies:

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don't you forget about me

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<<the life

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Family:
Harvey Lee Warren [father]
Mikaela Nicole Warren ["Mikki," mother, nee Anderson, assumed deceased]
Nicholas Warren ["Nick," older brother, assumed deceased]
Romantic Involvements: None currently, but he had one in the past.
Birthplace: Sausalito, California
Server Location: Las Vegas
History: 400+ words.

Alexander Daley Warren was born on June 2 to Mr. Harvey Lee Warren and Mrs. Mikaela Nicole Warren, formerly Anderson. He was the youngest of two boys, his older sibling being Nicholas Marcus Warren. Alex, as he was affectionately known, was named for a famous Macedonian conqueror, Alexander the Great, and his uncle, Daley Anderson. His mother's brother, in fact, ended up playing a prominent role in his young life, influencing Alex's fondness for history and language. Growing up in Sausalito was the best and worst experience in his life. His childhood, while filled with tragedy and only a few, brief spots of happiness, still taught him those vital lessons. Perseverance. Sacrifice. The fragility of life. Friendship. Love.

Alex maintained a close relationship with his mother, brother, and uncle, who lived just across the bay in San Francisco. His father, however, was an alcoholic, drug addicted, good-for-nothing who didn't care about his family as a whole, his wife, or his sons' development. Harvey was rarely ever home, always drinking until he passed out, getting high, buying illegal substances, stealing, vandalizing, engaging in illicit sexual acts with prostitutes, etc. Just about everything considered uncouth in society, he participated in.

When he did bother to visit, he treated Mikaela like dirt, beat Alex and Nick with clubs. Fortunately, it would only be a few days before he became "unsatisfied" and left. Harvey's departures visibly relieved the already tense atmosphere of the household. Mikaela would always call Daley and tell him what happened, and he would always urge to leave her husband, bring herself and the boys over, and stay with him. Mikaela refused time after time, repeating, "Whatever Harvey does, it brings in money." Besides, she knew very well that her brother couldn't support four people on a teacher's salary. She already had to work nights at a strip joint just to pay for Alex and Nick's necessities, since the only thing Harvey would pay for was half the rent for the condo. And that was aside from her afternoon assistant tailoring job. Mikaela couldn't afford a babysitter, so she had to leave her sons home alone.

Sometimes Daley would come and watch over them, but only if he could afford the gas or the bus ticket. When he was able, he would relate the relatively simple contents of his vast and impressive knowledge to his nephews: frequently quoting Shakespeare, summarizing The Illiad so his youthful yet attentive audience could comprehend it, reciting Constitutional amendments off the top of his head, hoping myths and legends would serve as adequate bedtime stories. He could tell his efforts weren't wasted, especially with Alex. The younger boy was the one asking all the questions, catching all the little details, really retaining what he heard. Of course, Alex wasn't the only one who was wondering the question that had plagued both boys since they learned their uncle was an absolute genius. Nick asked Daley, laughing, "Why don't you teach at a fancy college, Uncle D? You'd make everyone there look like idiots." Daley just brushed the question away whenever an inquiry was made. He usually replied, "I made a bad decision, and now they won't hire me. I teach at a public high school right across the bridge." Or something to that end.

Naturally, Daley felt more inclined to give Alex the bigger picture. Once, when Nick was away with some friends from elementary school, Daley and Alex were left alone. They did a lot of talking, and the "Why do the universities hate you?" topic came up again. This time, Daley opened up. He started by saying he made the most horrific mistake a person could ever dream of committing. Alex didn't quite understand. Then his uncle said, "I hurt someone. Extremely, fatally." Alex had pressed on, "Well, is the person okay?" Daley had closed his eyes. "No. Yes. I don't know. I don't know where they are now." That had clued Alex in. "You didn't hurt somebody, then, Uncle Daley. You killed them."

Daley explained that twenty-three years ago, the professor of sociology at Harvard University was vacationing in San Francisco. Professor Robert J. Islander had been his name. Fifty-three, divorced, two kids. Daley was seventeen at the time, a mistreated teen with an alcohol problem. He and his sister Mikaela came from a rich family, as their father had co-founded a publishing company. His family had disowned him, he was unemployed, broke, living on the streets. He spotted Professor Islander in a bar, noticed his hefty pocketbook, and marked him then and there. After a few hours, Islander left the establishment, walked a few blocks down Santana Avenue, and turned a corner into a back alley. Daley, who'd been following him, confronted the man with a hand pistol, and said he was going to kill him. The professor didn't beg for his life, he merely said, "Then I'm prepared." Two shots to the chest, the first one hitting an artery, the next traveling straight through his heart. The police arrested him two days later. A trial date was set, he was found guilty, and sentenced to 20 years-life for pre-meditated murder. However, he was paroled and released only one year later. But it was a mistake Daley would regret for the rest of his life. His own dream of becoming a history professor at a college had been shattered, ironically because he had to pick the one man in the bar who taught at Harvard. He didn't explain it in this much detail to Alex, because he didn't want to frighten him.

Two years rolled by, and more and more civilians were reported uploaded to the Net. Mikaela watched the news reports every night. "We're not getting ourselves hooked into that thing, you boys understand? No matter what hand you're dealt in life, it's better than a hand of circuits and binary code." Okay, so it wasn't exactly like that, but Mrs. Warren was no computer technician. Alex and Nick didn't pay much attention to it, anyway. They had school, and friends, and plenty of other things to occupy their time. One day, Nick raced home on his bicycle to tell his mother and brother that he'd been offered a job washing cars by "that one rich guy who lives in that mansion on Vineyard Court." He'd be paid forty bucks a week for his services on the estate, sprucing up all kinds of antique cars, including some race cars. Becoming a professional race car driver happened to be Nick's aspiration, so it all worked out perfectly. And whatever he didn't give to Mikaela, he gave to Alex as bus fare to visit Daley. He knew his younger brother had developed a close relationship with their uncle, and wouldn't get to see him very often otherwise.

Daley Christopher Columbus Anderson lived in an old, Victorian era apartment (formerly mansion, but converted into a duplex) overlooking Market Street. He bought the place twenty years before from an art collector who'd had enough of the west coast and decided to move back to Florida. The man, who'd been looking forward to retirement, had even left several paintings on the walls, most of them replicas. He claimed he'd "seen too much creative genius for two lifetimes." When Alex came over, Daley was ecstatic, overjoyed. He exuberantly gave him a tour the first time he visited, eagerly, rapidly rambling along about the artwork. "You can tell that's Monet, just look at his brush strokes and unique use of color" or "Definitely Picasso, because... Well, there's simply no mistaking Picasso" for example. At night, they would climb up and out to the roof, Daley's telescope in tow, to view the night sky in all of its beauty. Alex memorized just about every single constellation as a result.

This continued on merrily for a few years, until one early summer's night when Alex was walking home from the bus station after a weekend at Daley's. He was barely eleven years old at the time. A rather tall man in a trenchcoat approached him, and offered him a job out of the blue. He claimed he'd been "observing" Alex for a while yet, and knew he'd be perfect working at a local ad agency of which he was a co-founder. The job would pay twenty bucks a week, if he worked for three days a week, four hours a day, and the rate would go up from there. He told Alex to ask his mother for her consent, and turn in a light blue form at the agency's front desk. He would start the next day. Lastly, the man added that once Alex arrived there, tell the receptionist that "Rick E. Opalessor" had recommended him.

Sure enough, Alex showed up to the agency, parental consent form in hand. And it wasn't hard to locate the previously mentioned light blue form with bold, black letters highlighting the title: "Swindler and Borrower, Ltd. Occupation Confirmation Form." He met Opalessor on the first floor, who in turn showed him to his office, claiming he was the youngest intern they'd ever worked with. He gave Alex a list of tasks his newly acquired position entailed, from editing all the way to designing, from advertisements all the way to campaigns.

He proved a quick study, as Opalessor had anticipated, and he and Alex developed a friendship, not just a "mentor and apprentice" relationship. Often times the two would take long walks around San Francisco during their breaks, talking, as Alex and Daley still did. Sometimes he would tell his uncle about his conversations with Opalessor, and the jealousy in his eyes was diluted, but still apparent. Daley thought of everyone involved in the entertainment business in the exact same way. "He's a bad influence, Alex. All those showbusiness types are a bunch of carbon copies. They make it there job to exploit people and their ideas." (See where Alex gets his cynicism from?)

Opinions aside, Alex continued to work at Swindler and Borrower, still growing accustomed to the worker's life. Yet another year had passed. It was the summer once more, and Alex had recently celebrated his twelfth birthday. By now, he was held in the same high respect of his superiors at the agency, who had a pretty good idea that Alex was destined to go very far in his life. One day, much like the ones described before, Alex had the whole third floor to himself, because all of the executives were holed up in a board meeting, or so he'd been told. On his break, he strolled around the building, with no particular destination in his mind. But when he reached the seventh floor, he heard persistent shouting coming from the door on his left, 713 C. He listened with baited breath at the door for a few moments, swearing he heard Opalessor's voice in all of the uproar, sounding eerily calm. Alex opened the door. The room boasted walls of a dull gray color, the paint chipping away rapidly. The mood was thick, the atmosphere was tense, and the air hung still. In the center, sitting around a black oval table, were several unfamiliar faces. Executives from a different branch of the corporation? As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he did start to see people he recognized. Among them, sure enough, was Opalessor. Before Alex had bursted in, they had been speaking in a vague foreign language, which is why it was hard for Alex to make out his mentor's voice. That, and the room was partially soundproofed.

Alex wasn't in trouble, not by any stretch of the imagination. Later that night, Opalessor took him aside, and said that he was not authorized to explain who those people had been or their reasons for being there. But he also explained that from now on, Alex would no longer be doing ad work, instead something... different. His pay would be tripled for good measure, though. Opalessor was more stern that usual as he told him that, for his age, he was trusted explicitly by everyone in the building. He took Alex to the basement, to a door that read "DO NOT ENTER," and input some numbers into the door's keypad. They trekked down a series of stairs until they reached a plain-looking wooden door. When this door opened, it revealed a whole new world. Cubicles as far as the eye could see, people milling about the aisles, checking filing cabinets, the clicking sound of keyboards being the most prominent. The environment was humid dusty. Opalessor said they were more than eleven stories underground. They walked to an empty cubicle. "I have mentored you to the best of my ability, have I not?" Alex instantly nodded. "Your new job is one of vast responsibility, and far more importance, but the consequences and repercussions are severe." Alex, of course, questioned Opalessor's last statement, but listened intently as he was given his new task. "You have an intermediate knowledge of the operations and functions of a computer. I have, and continue to make it my obligation to advance your skills to be nearly as sharp as mine in the next three years. Not many children are given this opportunity, as many lack the intelligence necessary, but I believe you can rise to the challenge."

Hacking. That was exactly how Opalessor explained it to Alex. The illegal retrieval of classified government information. Swindler and Borrower? A cover for the real group. He may not have been able to explain to Alex who those people had been, but he could certainly tell the boy who he had been solicited to work for. Plain and simple, Opalessor said, they were terrorists. At least, how everyone defined the word "terrorists." But he claimed their work was for the betterment of people, not their destruction. So, Alex was assigned to a team of newly initiated hackers, whose area of expertise was hacking into FBI files. And this initiation not only marked the beginning of the end of Alex's happy, relatively simple existence, but the entire world's as well.

He didn't bother telling his family that anything had changed. For the next three years, he went along working, knowing exactly what he was doing, and what would happen if he was ever caught. If any of them were caught. He hid the extra money from Mikaela and Nick, stashing it under several lose floorboards in his room. He left a note there as well, in case he was caught. Alex wanted the money to stay with his family, some for his mother, some for his brother, some for his uncle. His father hadn't been heard from in a few years, so everyone assumed he was gone for good. (He wouldn't have given the bastard diddly-squat, anyhow.)

Alex and his fellow young hackers, the aptly named "Renegades," were the shining stars of the underground (literally) operation. Alex was now on the high side of fourteen years old, and the team felt that they were on the brink of discovering what could quite possibly be the most monumental piece of evidence discovered by the terrorists yet. Of course, they had no clue what it was for, since ironically, that information was classified. (By their superiors.)

Access Code: 222-721

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good night, travel well

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<<the author {optional}

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Your Name: Miral
Your Age: 14 and 1/2, more or less. (15 in June! Yayz!)
Years Roleplaying Experience: 3+
How'd you find us? Browsing ProBoards Support, as I so often do.
Something interesting about yourself: I'm a huge Trekkie/sci-fi fan, a grammar extraordinaireI make my classmates look like third graders, and a space-science enthusiast. I'm environmentally friendly, I love reading, writing, and thinking. Yes, thinking is a hobby.