KARL VOHN QUINN (Karl Quinn von Weise)
Nationality: German-Irish (halfbreed)
Hair color/Eye color: Black/green
Birthday: 11 June
Sign: Gemini
Aka: Quinn(Mark), Kei, Hee-chan(Locke)
Kritiker codename: MURAKI/ENGELUS
Former codename: (Abhördienst*--> wink Löwe, (St. Michael's Academe--> wink Steadfast
Main weapon: sword. There are two he uses: Geri(a ninjato) and Freki(a saber)
Backup weapon: Stun grenades (He keeps them in his belt pouches)
Age: 22
Former associations: Abhördienst, St. Michael's Academe, Sanctuary
Kuroneko job: Manager of 2nd floor bar/lounge
Expressions: ". . . ." and when pissed, "Sheiße!" and a variation of other colorful multi-lingual curses
Prefers: No mission preference
Languages spoken: English, German, Irish, Japanese, Cebuano, Italian
Likes: swords, music(any genere--from rock to classical), autumn, literature
Dislikes: Italian food, tedious missions, socializing
Significant notices: He has three prominent scars crisscrossed in the chest and abdominal area. Karl wears two kinds of jewelry: The cross pendant and a ring on his left finger. On mission nights he also wears an armband to indicate his position in the group. Karl has a small cataract defect on his right eye. On mission nights he uses a special contact lens to balance its grade with his left.
Son of two previous Kritiker agents who were both in hiding after accomplishing a major role in the simultaneous breakdown of the illegal organization Esstet. Wilhelm von Weise[1] belonged to the German branch of Dogstar, as well as the German secret service, working in the more dangerous department of hands-on information retrieval and espionage. The codename 'Lestat' was well known and hated among illegal associations, and many times von Weise was forced to wait out a mission in a safehouse for his life. Miarnn Quinn worked for the quieter side of Kritiker, the European branch of Crashers. Miarnn had uncovered all the histories and back-up hidden personal files of the Esstet members, while Wilhelm had discovered the very dangerous secret of Esstet rituals and illegal human experimentation(e.g. feeding certain members with drugs to enhance performance and manifest superhuman abilities like telekinesis and foreshadowing) and the existence of the human laboratory Rozenkreuz. As precious information was laid out for Kritiker's disposal, the harbinger of the information(Wilhelm and Miarnn) were whisked to the undisclosed, tight-security safehouse in the Swiss Alps.
Wilhelm sighed as he stared off into the eternal whiteness of the mountains around him, the hot chocolate in his hands a contrast to the cold in the air. All around him was blissful silence, the occasional cawing of mountain ravens and the howling of Wolfjünger[2] in the deep woods. A very boyish thought crossed his mind then, the first boyish thought in a long, long time. What if he yelled loud enough for the mountains to create an avalanche?
Somtimes being 'safe' was just sooo boring. He thought of the other things he would have been doing at the moment, at the inefficience of being cooped up in a place like this when he could be rejoining his teammates in the last days of fevered, enthusiastic planning to finally find the elusive Esstet's Achilles' heel.
His thoughts drifted to the precious information he had recovered, and at the numerous failed experiments and human tests Esstet had disposed of before garnering strong potential agents who they could twist in their sick little plans for domination. He really had the mysterious park sweeper to thank, the young boy with the strange sad eyes, for telling him where to find the first Esstet experimental chambers. Thinking back, he wondered how the boy had known something as secret as that place, but then again he might have come across it as an accident and didn't want to tell anyone for fear of his life. Something told him, however, that the boy knew what he was talking about the same way one knows the hometown he has been raised in.
A movement to his left caught his attention, and in a flash he was perched like a spring on the log he was sitting on,
the glinty snout of his Mausser drawn in a fighting stance. It wasn't the steady movement of the guards in the area; it was more irregular, suggesting another person besides him in the safehouse.
Cool pale blue eyes regarded him from behind the wooden fence of the cabin. It was a woman, her slender hands raised as if in surrender, although he could see the calm look in her eyes. The dark brown hair that framed her face was flecked with morning snow, and Wilhelm had to blink to acquaint himself with the fact that he was not the only agent here, and that it was an unarmed woman he was faced with.
Catching sight of a tiny red cross sewn to the woman's sweater hem, Kritiker's symbol of refugee agents (he had one himself), Wilhelm replaced the weapon and relaxed, almost flushing in embarrassment as he stood straight and bowed courteously to the lady, making room for her on the log he was sitting on. "Es tut mir schrecklich leid, mein Frauline.[3] Forgive the paranoia of another troubled Kritiker agent."
"Nein, that's understandable." The woman only laughed lightly, and it occured to Wilhelm how nice another human voice sounded like in the lonely cold of the safehouse. She took a seat beside him. "Is the sunrise here in the Alps always a cold, pale gray?"
Never one for too much conversation, Wilhelm merely cocked his head slightly in inquiry.
Pale blue eyes looked up to his green ones. "Because if Kritiker and the UN are beginning a crackdown on Esstet, I believe I will be seeing this dreary atmosphere for quite some time."
THE DOWNFALL OF ESSTET
While it took almost a year for the final blow to land on Esstet in one all-out collaboration, there were still 'mercenary operatives' that is, last-minute assassins hired by Esstet (not necessarily Esstet members) to track and kill the leading agents who had disclosed most of their vital 'killing-blow' secrets. Top of the list, naturally, was Wilhelm von Weis, following him not far off was Mairnn. There was a typologial error that would mean everything: Misspelling Quinn for Quain. Immediately agents in the list were taken to level-S security. They knew, however, that they had to be separated; whereas Mairnn was far from harm, von Weise was a hunted man. So they split: Wilhelm spent a year and a half in Abelard (a level-S safehouse for Kritiker agents found beneath the sands of the Sahara desert) and the pregnant Mairnn stayed in her homeland in a small village in the Irish hills. A village priest who would go down to the docks once a month would carry short coded telegrams between them. von Weise was relieved from the safehouse when thought it was safe enough. But while travelling to Ireland to rejoin his family, he had recognized an ex-Slovic spy who had connections to the Russian Red Underground, and it was a well-known fact that Esstet liked to establish ties with at least one gangster group from each country. (He did not recognize Wilhelm but was on his way to Ireland anyway to pick up a passport of a certain Mairnn von Weise that showed up in their database.)Wilhelm could not see his family, or his son, but he knew things had to be arranged or they would all die(All agents in the wanted list were up for 'Uprooting' or killing every member of that agent's family. He had enough time to send Mairnn a quick telegraph message before he ambushed the spy and committed murder/suicide.
Four lines. Her pale blue eyes scanned the note, and for again after a long time, Mairnn knew full happiness.
//Frisch whet dur Wind----Der Heimat zu----Mein irisch Kind----no weilest du?//[4]
Lines from Wagner's famous operatta. Couldn't have been a better choice of words. He was coming home. That meant she could--
Mairnn stopped her train of thought as skilled fingers that automatically searched the page felt something underneath in slight morse code. A warning? Or a little surprise the uncanny Wilhelm liked to put in once in a while?
//Ein Everest aus Tränen, schwärzte unsere Himmel.// [5]
//An Everest of tears blackened our sky.//
As quickly as the joy inside her spread, so did the cold dread that froze her in place. After all these months of hiding, of waiting, of anticipating for a reunion... But she knew nothing was perfect and that maybe someone somewhere connected to Esstet had uncovered some of their scents in the trail the same way she had escaped from the mistake of another.
"Ma-a?"
Dark thoughts vanished as she looked down at the little boy little Lara was carrying with her. Almost a year old, he knew her already and had tried hard to speak her name. He looked so much like his father, with determined green eyes attempting a weak baby glare when he failed to say her name again.
"Ma-aam--Mamm! Ma. MA!" He managed what Mairnn thought was a triumphant grin when he had said 'mama' rather awkwardly. She was sad for the child that he would not be saying it for very long. She was sad for herself that she would never hear him say it to her.
As she took the boy from the teenager's hands, little Karl's hand brushed against the telegram in her palm, and, as all babies do, gripped it tightly in his hand as if never letting go.
Mairnn entrusted her son to Fr. Gregory, with instructions to keep him in the small abbey of Kiltartan and to change his surname from 'von Weise' (as obviously this was notorious to the antagonists) to her 'Quinn' as agreed by the couple, although keeping and distorting the 'vohn' from the original family name. Karl grew up in the Abbey of Domine knowing only three living friends: Fr. Gregory, his sister Dame Aireena, and a tabby he called 'Centaur'. This explains Karl's affection for cats and his strong attachment to faith although it doesn't surface all the time when he is with others. In the abbey he was taught how to read and write English and Latin. The priest(a former Army chaplain) also taught him minor woodland skills and a little fencing. He lived in the Abbey for seven memorable years before von Weise's friend and Intelligence officer Freidrich picked him up and brought him to formal schooling. (This was also part of the plan the couple had before they separated.)
"Don't move."
Friedrich stopped in his tracks, tense. He had expected a quiet abbey in the foggy green hills of the Irish north, maybe even a kindly priest to welcome him, but not another---agent? The voice sounded like a child--? He slowly felt for the thong on his wrist that would trigger his small Pygmy 3mm.
"I told you don't move."
He could hear the crunching of leaves from behind him, and when he suddenly felt the point of something sharp on the back of his neck, he turned around, drew his gun, and stuck in point-blank between the eyes of his assailant.
Very familiar green eyes only blinked in response beside the cold steel of the muzzle. "You don't listen, do you?" Not even a bead of sweat. The same verdant eyes only glared at him irritably, as if they didn't know that the gun pointed in the middle of his forehead could splatter his brains all over the ground. As if they didn't know what a gun was.
His 'assailant' was no more than a boy. And the 'sharp' point was in fact the point of a carefully crafted wooden sword now digging in an annoying pain to his stomach. It had to be him. Nobody else would possess such calm--
"Karl... did you bring... KARL!!! Oh help us, Heaven!" A very shocked Dame Aireena dropped the basket she was holding. Friedrich quickly withdrew his gun as Fr. Gregory came up behind his sister in alarm just as the fat woman fainted. When he saw the tall officer being accosted by a glaring Karl, he straightened and smiled.
"Karl, child, it is wrong to hold a sword against your fellow brother," the priest said gently, lowering the boy's arm.
"But someone has to guard Eden from Tresspassers, Father," came the sharp reply, his eyes never leaving the stranger, although he lowered his wooden sword. Friedrich bit back the urge to laugh. Not quite Wilhelm, but he was definitely a von Weise. The priest drew Karl back, laying restraining hands on the boy's shoulders.
"Officer Friedrich Kleimanns, I presume? Good day. I am Fr. Allen Gregory, caretaker of Abbey of Domine. How may I help you?" He had known about the man from Mairnn and Wilhelm's letters, but he had to be sure. Karl had beat him to it.
"Fresh blows the wind homeward," the boy all but snapped, using the code the priest had taught him and still hostile to the tall stranger who pointed a gun at him.
"My Irish child, where are you waiting," replied a slightly surprised Freidrich, completing the code, who was baffled even more when the boy's glaring face disappeared completely into that of indifference. /That was a very quick change/ thought the officer as he was escorted inside the cottage.
Karl was enrolled at the private boys' school St. Michael Academe in Germany. It was a boarding school run by a limited number of faculty, thus the population was up to a maximum of twelve per class. One would say that the Academe was rather militarialistic in style, with strict rules in the dormitories and in the grounds.On the outside it was a /very/ exclusive boys' school, it was secretly a training school for agents and spies. On his fourth grade eight of them were segregated from the rest. These eight boys were integrated into the hidden world of the Academe. On his first year he was given a codename-->"STEADFAST". This explains his multi-lingual capabilities and his skill in handling other weapons. The Academe trained its boys with traditional assassination weapons, guns being secondary because they were 'noisy'. From his early exposure, Karl naturally favored swords. After five years of training they were sent off to do 'practicum' in Sanctuary, an International safehouse spy channel that gave safety to any and all spies from different International networks. On their sixth year they were summoned to the headmaster's office to be told of the different organizations that they would be joining. Meeting the headmaster would change his life.
"Your name?"
"Cadet Quinn Karl vohn," he replied, saying his name backwards as was proper. "Steadfast."
"Ah, Steadfast. Fresh from the Glasgow Sanctuary?"
"Yes sir." Unlike military schools where they trained their cadets to shout, St. Michael's Academe always taught its boys to speak in a low, level tone, clear but quiet enough.
"I hear one of you illegally applied for an organization even during practicum without proper graduation from it."
"Cadet Göege Seindon. Cyril."
"That is illegal and punishable by execution."
". . . ." He understood. He could still hear Seindon's argument over the roaring of the flames.
"There was a fight, I understand? You sustained injuries?"
"....yes headmaster." Oh he had challenged Seindon, alright, to make it a fair battle. He could still hear the metal clanging of saber against foil and the sting of the blade as it cut his chest.
"And you carried out your responsibility?"
Green eyes glinted. "Yes sir." It had not been too easy. At the last second he thought he saw Seindon actually regret what he had done. If he had repented, Karl would have let him go, would have arrested him instead. But it had disappeared, and there was no choice. He had prayed for Seindon though, just as Fr. Gregory had taught him.
"Why, oh why does he remind me of you?" So very uncharacteristic of the usually sarcastic Master Jan Langley to make a joke directed at the headmaster of all people.
The headmaster was pleased, and frowned for a while at the fencing master, who suddenly chuckled softly as if sharing a private joke.
"By now you should be familiar with the different intelligence organizations around the world. You do know that you are studying here to be of greater service to humanity...
"Oh, you are SOO dramatic, Fuhrer." Beside him, with the same lopsided grin he always wore was his fencing teacher and master of lessons. He was a strict and sarcastic teacher, but the tone he used was almost playful, joking. "Always, always, yes." And he flipped a long bright strand of hair from his shoulder.
The headmaster only twitched a nerve slightly, the action causing light to glint off polished spectacles. "--and you know that you will soon be working for one of them. I ask you now, Steadfast. What organization are you hard-pressed to join and why?"
He had been ready for this. Even in his practicum as assistant to the Sanctuary officers, he had talked to many spies from different organizations, but he never felt too close to any one of them.
Before he could respond however, his fencing teacher cut in for him. "Ah, but you know there is only one organization Steadfast can--/should/ join." He swore he saw a rather brilliant glint in the fiery man's eyes, strange eyes that looked like tarnished brass in the bright light.
The headmster was quiet, but after a few seconds tilted his head a little to the right as if agreeing to some hidden message between them. "Hmmm, I agree. He WILL be successful, I can tell." Eyes looked /through/ him as if seeing something that was yet to come. And then they focused back.
"Do you feel strongly for any organization, Steadfast?"
"No." He had to be honest. There was no other reason not to be.
"I was hoping you wouldn't. I would recommend you to a very good one then. Have you heard of Kritiker?"
What was that?
"Ah," replied the headmaster, a rare small smile on his face as he settled back. "Master Langley will explain..."
The first Kritiker branch Karl joined was Abhördienst, or the Monitoring Service. It had the responsibility of monitoring the different elite groups under Kritiker (elite--see LOCKE) and manage their mission protocols and general contact. [in other words, some deskwork.] However he was shifted to the field branch of Abhördienst upon recommendation from the headmaster. His new codename was 'LöWE'. An independent agent for quite some time, the higher officers of Kritiker nevertheless decided to integrate him to a new elite team they had in plan, and gradually gave him assingments that concentrated upon a limited area only. This eventually led him to meetings with Locke (who worked for Dogstar branch) and later to officially join Kuroneko with secretary Jutatsu Gogaku and informant Cherry Taoh.
Karl works in the upper bar of the Kurnoneko Internet Cafe, a lounge and reading area apart from the Internet cafe downstairs. Because of his background, he doesn't like associating with people much, and is can be seen getting annoyed at Locke or conferring with Jutatsu and Cherry quietly about new missions. He prefers to read and listen to music than to being in a large group of people. Although indifferent and a little reluctant, he was chosen to be team/field leader. Despite that he likes to put nicknames to people with things they remind him of eg: John-Sir Knight, Chris-Dita (from a comic he came across once). He was the first to nickname Mark 'POP'(surprisingly) and calls Locke 'Schuschu' because of his hair:
Karl blinked. It was rather coincidental. He couldn't help it. He pulled.
"Schuschu."
"OW!!!!" the redhead yelled as his head was jerked backward suddenly , a hand tugging his hair sharply. He rubbed the sore spot on his scalp to scowl at a very intrigued-looking Karl. "You /crazy SAMPAT[6]/ what'd the hell you do THAT for? O~w." The force and suddenness of the tug had him teary-eyed and he worked to soothe the pain.
Green eyes only blinked at him wonderingly. "It's very vivid. There's only one other person I know who has it."
"Has the hell what?" Still pissed but curious, Locke stuck a tongue out at the German-Irish. "******** it hurts... You could've just /tapped/ me on the shoulder you kno--"
"Your hair."
A raised eyebrow. It figured.
"My --WHAT--?"
Karl shrugged and went back to putting away the discarded computer boxes to make space in the lobby.
"My hair--WHAT?" There was no way this silent b*****d would go around pulling his /hair/ and not telling him the whole story. He blocked Karl as the latter was on his way to throw something. Annoyed green eyes told him to move over. "You better tell me /what/ you're talking about, German boy, you don't go pulling around my hair like that and keeping quiet--"
Karl sighed. Stubborn. He could swear they were so alike, Locke and the other one.
"You have more or less the same bright reddish--brownish--orangish--copper..." He flicked a bang carelessly, fumbling at the right color, "--hair as a superior I had in the past." Now that he thought about it their eyes glowed in sort-of the same fashion too. He hid a grin.
The redhead would not be appeased. "And what the hell did you call me--Tutu?" He narrowed his eyes threateningly. "That better not be a puppy's name you had there..."
He ducked to hide a very amused small smile. Haha. When he straightened up again, "Schuschu. His adapted name. Now lay off." He stepped around a confused Locke who thankfully shut up. Actually only one person ever dared to call his previous superior such a pet name.
It was probably only the headmaster who could call Master Langley that in a joking tone. He had wondered it had anything to do with the man's real name 'Jan' but didn't pursue the thought.
KARL'S TALENTS: Aside from being particularly good with the sword, he has an immense appreciation for literature and writes poems and stories. (He keeps them a secret, and often writes in Latin or English) Due to training from the Academe, he knows a little piano playing (although not extensive mastery of a piece as John is with the cello).
ON MISSIONS: Usually missions are classified either 'Holocaust' (destroying EVERYTHING in the target area to leave zero percent evidence) or 'Sniper'(killing ONLY the targets and/or the necessary witnesses) when it involves assassination. Sometimes this is specified in the mission briefing by Kritiker (as taken from Jutatsu) or it is carefully deliberated between Jutatsu, Karl and Cherry; at times it is Karl's decision. In Holocaust Missions, he brings Geri, his ninjato; on Sniper Missions he arms himself with Freki, a saber (the graduation saber received from St. Michael's Academe). [Locke: 'SHIIT. Freki again!?!? Hee-chan, quit being so bo~~~ring--' Karl: *glare* . . . . Mark, John... we leave in ten minutes.*walks away* Locke: Da~mn! *xp*] He doesn't really favor any mission, and treats both with equal seriousness. Nobody is allowed in Karl's room except for the cat, Ran. ;p
KARL'S CODENAMES: Being involved in the spy community for a long time, Karl nevertheless has a string of very interesting codenames. 'STEADFAST' is one of the eight special angels. The notable others were Cyril (who looked after the living saints), Darien (who was responsible for strengthening faith) and Daniel (courage-bringer). Steadfast was the one assigned to guard Paradise until the Day of Judgement. 'LÖWE' in German means 'Lion'.
'MURAKI' is still part of the Shinigami Legends. He is initially the antagonist of the story, a half-mad doctor with the obsession to possessing Tsuzuki. Although Karl does /not/ share this trait, Muraki however is also associated with angel wings, and in his 'sane' psyche is a rather devout man. Muraki is also said to have a mechanical eye replacing his previously defective right eye (usually left eyes are affected) as with Karl. His secondary nickname is 'ENGELUS' which is a German/Latin mixture of Engel and Angelus, and has an uncanny connection to the first two codenames.
NOTE: It is of great importance to separate nicknames of Holocaust and Sniper missions to avoid any complication should some minor thing go wrong.
*Monitoring Service
[1]Wilhelm von Weis- "belonging to green meadows" (again, wala gi-tuyo. Relation: Green--the von Weises' eyes, and the fact that Karl was raised on the Emerald Isles. O_o Sometimes I seriously surprise myself.)
[2]Wolfjünger- wolf cubs
[3]Es tut mir schrecklich leid, mein Frauline- "I'm terribly sorry, my lady."
[4]from Wagner's operatta. "Fresh blows the wind----Home-ward----My Irish child----Where are you waiting?"
[5]from "Everest of Tears" by Wulfgang Weyrauch
[6]Sampat-Chinese for 'meanie'
MORE PICTURE REFERENCES: (WIP)
Karl: X X
