Post by nikolaithebeast on Jan 16, 2014 12:46:30 GMT
We begin our story on a Derelict Station, floating around Tau Ceti. The place had, at one point, been a Research vessel dedicated to the creation of Herbological nonsense. However, a accident involving space vines and a particularly stupid assistant destroyed the place, slowly ripping the place to shreds.
Roughly a dozen years later, the place was scavenged by the “Gladiatorial Army”, a group of drug addled bandits, who attempted to liken themselves to the gladiators of Ancient Rome (unlike the Gladiators of not so Ancient Florida). As such, they did what any gladiator's did. No, not lots of orgies (bandits are notoriously ugly.)
No, not excessive gluttony (bandits are notoriously poor.)
Pitfighting.
Scrounging up whatever they could find, they acquired anything that could or may fight. This involved Borgs, Humans, Aliens, Monkeys, Chickens, Particularly angry crates. Pitting them to fight inside the remains of the bar, they began fighting them to the death, betting on it and such. Of course, this showed two issues.
1) For Gladiators, they were not actually doing the fighting (this did not occur to the drug filled men and women)
2) Bandits, as said, don't have money. So not much betting occurred.
As such, thus began the illegal pitfighting ring known as “Planty Dome” (Bandits are not clever, once again) Giving passage into the now reoccupied station, they began taking bets, offering pay-outs and such.
As anything illegal involving gruesome acts sadly tends to do, people of notable wealth began betting and watching, making this a VERY profitable organization.
Now, as you can guess, Gant, our lovely protagonist of this story, was not part of the bandits.
Having been abandoned at birth, the massive man (at this point, massive boy) had been begging on a Tau ceti Colony, when he had been approached, being offered well paying work. Now, normally, any smart child would not trust a random person offering money, but Gant was not exactly given this information, and only being the ripe old age of 14, happily accepted the job.
This is where I'd tell you about how they tried to drug them, and discovered that Gant's massive size did make drugs far less effective, giving Gant ample time to smash a few heads in. However, Your dear Narrator is not going to give you every small detail about a man's heading being pummelled into a fine pulp.
Instead, We cut to a few years later, Gant having become a even more massive brute at 18 then he had been before. This was, as you can guess, beneficial to his survival. However, his...ability to do much of anything else besides survive, was minimal.
Now, as you can guess, He did escape. How, involves Nanotrasen. Specifically, a squad of Nanotrasen marines busted in and made short work of the 'gladiators' (for a bunch of guys named after fighters, they really weren't very good at it, were they?) and made work to release the slaves and animals and things. Happy ending, right?
Well, that was the point. Nanotrasen was reaching another point where the general populace had begun to distrust them, so they took a spin on the wheel of “whatever horrible thing we've been ignoring till now”, and landed on this.
However, This was not apparent to Gant, who found himself heavily indebted to Nanotrasen.
Spending the next seven years under NT's care, he began studying and learning (racking up debts for the teaching, although he was more then happy to take the debts, believing himself saved by this universe's equivalent of the A-team) and working on the side in Security and civilian jobs, doing whatever work was given to him. (You'd be surprised how quickly people will hire a giant for security work)
Now, checking medical records, you will find yourself seeing that he is Mute. This, is a lie. Sort of.
Gant hates talking, having spent those years being punished for speaking. As such, he refuses to speak without actual need. (I would expect you all to begin attempts to bring Gant to speak.)
Now, you may have another question. “Why the fucking space carp milk is his name 'Gant'. Well, firstly, stop saying space carp milk. It's creepy.
Secondly, the name comes from a mishearing of Gant of himself as a child, hearing his mother scream “He isn't human, he's a fucking Gant!” towards his father. Now, obviously she meant Giant. However, she was a tad too....filled with drugs to speak coherently. Thus, he presumed his name was simply Gant, taking Thompson from his only friend, Ryan Thompson.
Now, this is a different story, but considering you've read this far, you probably want to know about Ryan. Thus, we will skip back a few years, before the whole “Horrible murdering ring of drug fueled bandits”
Back on the Streets, the massive boy had been begging, offering his services as a “Profeshunal Big Guy”, in attempts to gain any form of income to pay for food and things. At this point, he was approached by a scraggly old man, looking to be in much the same situation Gant was in, minus the whole “Gigantism” thing.
Once again, average children would scream STRANGER DANGER and flee. However, Gant was not privileged of this information. Instead, he and the old man sat down next to each other, and talked as they begged.
Gant remembers his face well, and in his current age, he can realize the old man had to have been very sick, the bones of his face being visible through the sunken skin. However, his eyes were a vibrant blue, and gave Gant the feeling the man could see through his massive frame.
---------------------------------------------
“And then we started lifting big boards, and brought them over to this place, and starting knocking nails into them, and eventually, we had a house!” Cried the smaller (but still massive) boy, waving his arms about ecstatically about his last job.
“Ah? Sounds like fun work, Gant. You must be really good at things like this, with your size...” he said, patting one of his arms with a weak chuckle.
“Mhm! I like the work. Even if it's hard sometimes, they usually give me lunch and some money! Then I get to buy some food, or comics, or something”
“Ah? Well, Mr...”
Gant took a moment, and frowned, before looking down at the man. “I don't have a last name.”
“Oh? Well, you can have mine if you like. It's Thompson. Ryan Thompson.”
Gant went silent. “Really?”
“Mhm. Gant Thompson. It suits you.”
Gant smiled and nodded, a little overtaken by this.
Eventually, it grew dark, and two departed, promising to meet in the same place the next day.
Gant never saw the man again.
---------------------------------------------
Currently, Gant is doing what you can expect, Working on Aurora Research Station. He is happy to do his work, although he doesn't speak much of anything...or at all really.
By all means, say hello the massive man if you see him. Maybe if you become good enough friends, you might hear him speak.
Roughly a dozen years later, the place was scavenged by the “Gladiatorial Army”, a group of drug addled bandits, who attempted to liken themselves to the gladiators of Ancient Rome (unlike the Gladiators of not so Ancient Florida). As such, they did what any gladiator's did. No, not lots of orgies (bandits are notoriously ugly.)
No, not excessive gluttony (bandits are notoriously poor.)
Pitfighting.
Scrounging up whatever they could find, they acquired anything that could or may fight. This involved Borgs, Humans, Aliens, Monkeys, Chickens, Particularly angry crates. Pitting them to fight inside the remains of the bar, they began fighting them to the death, betting on it and such. Of course, this showed two issues.
1) For Gladiators, they were not actually doing the fighting (this did not occur to the drug filled men and women)
2) Bandits, as said, don't have money. So not much betting occurred.
As such, thus began the illegal pitfighting ring known as “Planty Dome” (Bandits are not clever, once again) Giving passage into the now reoccupied station, they began taking bets, offering pay-outs and such.
As anything illegal involving gruesome acts sadly tends to do, people of notable wealth began betting and watching, making this a VERY profitable organization.
Now, as you can guess, Gant, our lovely protagonist of this story, was not part of the bandits.
Having been abandoned at birth, the massive man (at this point, massive boy) had been begging on a Tau ceti Colony, when he had been approached, being offered well paying work. Now, normally, any smart child would not trust a random person offering money, but Gant was not exactly given this information, and only being the ripe old age of 14, happily accepted the job.
This is where I'd tell you about how they tried to drug them, and discovered that Gant's massive size did make drugs far less effective, giving Gant ample time to smash a few heads in. However, Your dear Narrator is not going to give you every small detail about a man's heading being pummelled into a fine pulp.
Instead, We cut to a few years later, Gant having become a even more massive brute at 18 then he had been before. This was, as you can guess, beneficial to his survival. However, his...ability to do much of anything else besides survive, was minimal.
Now, as you can guess, He did escape. How, involves Nanotrasen. Specifically, a squad of Nanotrasen marines busted in and made short work of the 'gladiators' (for a bunch of guys named after fighters, they really weren't very good at it, were they?) and made work to release the slaves and animals and things. Happy ending, right?
Well, that was the point. Nanotrasen was reaching another point where the general populace had begun to distrust them, so they took a spin on the wheel of “whatever horrible thing we've been ignoring till now”, and landed on this.
However, This was not apparent to Gant, who found himself heavily indebted to Nanotrasen.
Spending the next seven years under NT's care, he began studying and learning (racking up debts for the teaching, although he was more then happy to take the debts, believing himself saved by this universe's equivalent of the A-team) and working on the side in Security and civilian jobs, doing whatever work was given to him. (You'd be surprised how quickly people will hire a giant for security work)
Now, checking medical records, you will find yourself seeing that he is Mute. This, is a lie. Sort of.
Gant hates talking, having spent those years being punished for speaking. As such, he refuses to speak without actual need. (I would expect you all to begin attempts to bring Gant to speak.)
Now, you may have another question. “Why the fucking space carp milk is his name 'Gant'. Well, firstly, stop saying space carp milk. It's creepy.
Secondly, the name comes from a mishearing of Gant of himself as a child, hearing his mother scream “He isn't human, he's a fucking Gant!” towards his father. Now, obviously she meant Giant. However, she was a tad too....filled with drugs to speak coherently. Thus, he presumed his name was simply Gant, taking Thompson from his only friend, Ryan Thompson.
Now, this is a different story, but considering you've read this far, you probably want to know about Ryan. Thus, we will skip back a few years, before the whole “Horrible murdering ring of drug fueled bandits”
Back on the Streets, the massive boy had been begging, offering his services as a “Profeshunal Big Guy”, in attempts to gain any form of income to pay for food and things. At this point, he was approached by a scraggly old man, looking to be in much the same situation Gant was in, minus the whole “Gigantism” thing.
Once again, average children would scream STRANGER DANGER and flee. However, Gant was not privileged of this information. Instead, he and the old man sat down next to each other, and talked as they begged.
Gant remembers his face well, and in his current age, he can realize the old man had to have been very sick, the bones of his face being visible through the sunken skin. However, his eyes were a vibrant blue, and gave Gant the feeling the man could see through his massive frame.
---------------------------------------------
“And then we started lifting big boards, and brought them over to this place, and starting knocking nails into them, and eventually, we had a house!” Cried the smaller (but still massive) boy, waving his arms about ecstatically about his last job.
“Ah? Sounds like fun work, Gant. You must be really good at things like this, with your size...” he said, patting one of his arms with a weak chuckle.
“Mhm! I like the work. Even if it's hard sometimes, they usually give me lunch and some money! Then I get to buy some food, or comics, or something”
“Ah? Well, Mr...”
Gant took a moment, and frowned, before looking down at the man. “I don't have a last name.”
“Oh? Well, you can have mine if you like. It's Thompson. Ryan Thompson.”
Gant went silent. “Really?”
“Mhm. Gant Thompson. It suits you.”
Gant smiled and nodded, a little overtaken by this.
Eventually, it grew dark, and two departed, promising to meet in the same place the next day.
Gant never saw the man again.
---------------------------------------------
Currently, Gant is doing what you can expect, Working on Aurora Research Station. He is happy to do his work, although he doesn't speak much of anything...or at all really.
By all means, say hello the massive man if you see him. Maybe if you become good enough friends, you might hear him speak.