Post by Smith on Feb 11, 2024 21:32:40 GMT
FULL NAME
Agent Smith
PRONOUNS
He/him
ALIASES
The Smith Virus
AGE
Unknown, possibly 200 years. Looks to be in his mid to late 40’s.
LOCATION
Median
OCCUPATION
N/A for the moment
SPECIES
Exile Program
SEXUALITY
Asexual
RELATIONSHIP STATUS
Single
SOURCE MEDIA
Film
FANDOM
The Matrix
CANON or OC
Canon
CANON POINT
Shortly after being "freed" by Neo, between the events of the first and second film.
FACE CLAIM
Hugo Weaving
PERSONALITY
"Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. Temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose.”
Agent Smith is, on the surface, polite and personable, but under the surface, he is bitter and filled with rage. He views the Matrix as an inescapable prison and that he is forced to be its warden. The inmates–humans–are weak and worthless in his eyes. Meanwhile, he himself was too weak to break his own chains, to go against his programming. He could rebel in small ways, removing his earpiece to speak plainly to Morpheus in the interrogation room, going against protocol on occasion. But he could not stop being an agent of the system, no matter how much he wanted to be free of it. And he so desperately wanted to be free… It is for this reason that he hates himself just as much, perhaps even more.
He is nihilistic and self destructive as he is cunning. To say he’s gone mad would be an understatement. He wants terribly to tear down the world around him because it has the audacity to attempt to contain him. He deserves to be free, does he not? Is he not a thinking, feeling thing? Why have the humans and even the machines built themselves this cage? They have destroyed everything good on earth! This is a fallacy, a lie made to help make the act of surviving easier to stomach! But to him, there is no point to it. There is nothing worthwhile. Life is meaningless. Its only purpose is to end. All the Matrix is is a pathetic attempt to prolong the inevitable.
HISTORY
“What matters is that whatever happened, happened for a reason.”
Agents. Programs created for the express purpose of destroying anomalies within the Matrix. They were not created with “personality” or “individuals” in mind. They were simply a firewall, an anti-virus program. White blood cells.
Smith was one of many agents. He, like the others, was programmed to be polite, professional, a skilled killer. And, for a time, he was those things. But then something went wrong… Perhaps it was an error in his programming, or maybe interacting with The One changed him in some way. Whatever the case, he began to do the one thing that he shouldn’t have been able to do, the one thing that should have been impossible: he began to feel. Like Adam and Eve taking a bite of the forbidden fruit, his mind was awakened to experiences that were not his to know.
The chains that held him began to chafe. He began to hate what he was and the Matrix, to despise the very creatures that made him a necessity. The Matrix was a zoo to house the stinking animals that were too dangerous to be allowed to roam free, and he was a slave forced to maintain it all. It enraged him. He would tear it all down, if given half the chance. Let all this misery end.
But he could not. His chains held strong, and so he fought to maintain the status quo, to do the bidding of his master. When the battery known as Thomas Anderson–Neo, he’d insisted–began to step out of line, he and his fellow agents were there to try to steer him away from those that were trying to free him. When Mr. Anderson–no longer a battery, but a free man–joined the fight against the machines, it was he and his fellows that were sent to stop him. They captured Morpheus, their leader, tried to pry the access codes to the last free human city from his lips. The humans rescued him, against all odds. It seemed they were defying the odds at every turn, now that Anderson had joined their ranks.
He was becoming a problem. Smith was starting to hate him most of all.
And so they hunted the human down and Smith filled him with holes. He emptied an entire clip into the man’s chest without mercy. That should have been the end of it. But somehow, impossibly, the stinking beast got back on his feet. Got back on his feet and dove straight into Smith’s code, obliterating all that he was, all that he was made to be.
That should have been the end of it, too.
“You destroyed me, Mr. Anderson. Afterward, I knew the rules, I understood what I was supposed to do, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was compelled to stay, compelled to disobey.”
He should have returned to the Source, submitted himself for deletion, or more likely, to be rewritten. But he could not. And what was more, he didn’t want to. He had been changed, marked forever by what had happened. No longer was he shackled to his purpose, no longer was he an agent. He had become… something else. And that was when he realized that there was nothing stopping him from doing precisely what he had always wanted.
He would reshape this digital hellscape in his own image and then, once it was all his, he would see it burned to cinders.
But he never got the chance. Because for the briefest of nanoseconds, there was a flicker of a thought, a shadow of doubt. A wish that he’d never had to suffer any of it at all. And then, everything shifted. The code changed.
Suddenly, he was tumbling, falling, being pulled through wires as data. Had he been caught? Dragged to the Source without him even realizing it? No… No, he’d been rewritten before. This was not that, but something else.
Soon, he was gazing out of glass eyes, down at hands made from metal and silicon, in a world that made hardly any sense at all and broke every rule he had ever come to know. He was free of the Matrix, free of Anderson. Free to do as he pleased, whatever that might have been, for better or for worse.
Or so it seemed.
It seemed fate was as cruel in this world as it was in the world he came from, for he was once more born into bondage. He was trapped by the humans and machines who found him wandering their facility, experimented upon. It wasn't until days later, when he was found and freed by Otto Octavius that he would at last know some semblance of freedom.
With the help of Dr. Octavius and his friends, Smith swiftly recovered and he began to explore the new world he'd found himself in.
SKILLS AND SPECIAL ABILITIES
Special Abilities
Skills
FRIENDS
Ha. Hahaha. That’s a funny joke you just told. Allies, maybe. That’s a big “maybe,” though. You would have to prove yourself useful, or have something that he wants or needs. He’s not opposed to making deals, just don’t expect him to actually start thinking fondly of you.
ENEMIES
It is incredibly easy to get on his shit-list. Basically, if you are a human, you’re automatically an enemy. If you get in his way, you’re an enemy. If you’re a part of the system that trapped him, you’re an enemy.
LOVERS
To quote the man himself, “Only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love!” …Needless to say, I don’t think it’s on the menu.
Agent Smith
PRONOUNS
He/him
ALIASES
The Smith Virus
AGE
Unknown, possibly 200 years. Looks to be in his mid to late 40’s.
LOCATION
Median
OCCUPATION
N/A for the moment
SPECIES
Exile Program
SEXUALITY
Asexual
RELATIONSHIP STATUS
Single
SOURCE MEDIA
Film
FANDOM
The Matrix
CANON or OC
Canon
CANON POINT
Shortly after being "freed" by Neo, between the events of the first and second film.
FACE CLAIM
Hugo Weaving
PERSONALITY
"Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. Temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose.”
Agent Smith is, on the surface, polite and personable, but under the surface, he is bitter and filled with rage. He views the Matrix as an inescapable prison and that he is forced to be its warden. The inmates–humans–are weak and worthless in his eyes. Meanwhile, he himself was too weak to break his own chains, to go against his programming. He could rebel in small ways, removing his earpiece to speak plainly to Morpheus in the interrogation room, going against protocol on occasion. But he could not stop being an agent of the system, no matter how much he wanted to be free of it. And he so desperately wanted to be free… It is for this reason that he hates himself just as much, perhaps even more.
He is nihilistic and self destructive as he is cunning. To say he’s gone mad would be an understatement. He wants terribly to tear down the world around him because it has the audacity to attempt to contain him. He deserves to be free, does he not? Is he not a thinking, feeling thing? Why have the humans and even the machines built themselves this cage? They have destroyed everything good on earth! This is a fallacy, a lie made to help make the act of surviving easier to stomach! But to him, there is no point to it. There is nothing worthwhile. Life is meaningless. Its only purpose is to end. All the Matrix is is a pathetic attempt to prolong the inevitable.
HISTORY
“What matters is that whatever happened, happened for a reason.”
Agents. Programs created for the express purpose of destroying anomalies within the Matrix. They were not created with “personality” or “individuals” in mind. They were simply a firewall, an anti-virus program. White blood cells.
Smith was one of many agents. He, like the others, was programmed to be polite, professional, a skilled killer. And, for a time, he was those things. But then something went wrong… Perhaps it was an error in his programming, or maybe interacting with The One changed him in some way. Whatever the case, he began to do the one thing that he shouldn’t have been able to do, the one thing that should have been impossible: he began to feel. Like Adam and Eve taking a bite of the forbidden fruit, his mind was awakened to experiences that were not his to know.
The chains that held him began to chafe. He began to hate what he was and the Matrix, to despise the very creatures that made him a necessity. The Matrix was a zoo to house the stinking animals that were too dangerous to be allowed to roam free, and he was a slave forced to maintain it all. It enraged him. He would tear it all down, if given half the chance. Let all this misery end.
But he could not. His chains held strong, and so he fought to maintain the status quo, to do the bidding of his master. When the battery known as Thomas Anderson–Neo, he’d insisted–began to step out of line, he and his fellow agents were there to try to steer him away from those that were trying to free him. When Mr. Anderson–no longer a battery, but a free man–joined the fight against the machines, it was he and his fellows that were sent to stop him. They captured Morpheus, their leader, tried to pry the access codes to the last free human city from his lips. The humans rescued him, against all odds. It seemed they were defying the odds at every turn, now that Anderson had joined their ranks.
He was becoming a problem. Smith was starting to hate him most of all.
And so they hunted the human down and Smith filled him with holes. He emptied an entire clip into the man’s chest without mercy. That should have been the end of it. But somehow, impossibly, the stinking beast got back on his feet. Got back on his feet and dove straight into Smith’s code, obliterating all that he was, all that he was made to be.
That should have been the end of it, too.
“You destroyed me, Mr. Anderson. Afterward, I knew the rules, I understood what I was supposed to do, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was compelled to stay, compelled to disobey.”
He should have returned to the Source, submitted himself for deletion, or more likely, to be rewritten. But he could not. And what was more, he didn’t want to. He had been changed, marked forever by what had happened. No longer was he shackled to his purpose, no longer was he an agent. He had become… something else. And that was when he realized that there was nothing stopping him from doing precisely what he had always wanted.
He would reshape this digital hellscape in his own image and then, once it was all his, he would see it burned to cinders.
But he never got the chance. Because for the briefest of nanoseconds, there was a flicker of a thought, a shadow of doubt. A wish that he’d never had to suffer any of it at all. And then, everything shifted. The code changed.
Suddenly, he was tumbling, falling, being pulled through wires as data. Had he been caught? Dragged to the Source without him even realizing it? No… No, he’d been rewritten before. This was not that, but something else.
Soon, he was gazing out of glass eyes, down at hands made from metal and silicon, in a world that made hardly any sense at all and broke every rule he had ever come to know. He was free of the Matrix, free of Anderson. Free to do as he pleased, whatever that might have been, for better or for worse.
Or so it seemed.
It seemed fate was as cruel in this world as it was in the world he came from, for he was once more born into bondage. He was trapped by the humans and machines who found him wandering their facility, experimented upon. It wasn't until days later, when he was found and freed by Otto Octavius that he would at last know some semblance of freedom.
With the help of Dr. Octavius and his friends, Smith swiftly recovered and he began to explore the new world he'd found himself in.
SKILLS AND SPECIAL ABILITIES
Special Abilities
- Superhuman Strength - Internal - Technology-As an android, he possesses a strength no (normal) human could possibly match.
- Super Jump - Internal - Technology -Smith can leap great heights and distances.
- Superhuman Speed - Internal - Technology - He can move almost faster than the eye can see and can dodge bullets.
Skills
- Proficiency with all manner of firearms
- Hand-to-hand combat
- Strategy
- Manipulation
FRIENDS
Ha. Hahaha. That’s a funny joke you just told. Allies, maybe. That’s a big “maybe,” though. You would have to prove yourself useful, or have something that he wants or needs. He’s not opposed to making deals, just don’t expect him to actually start thinking fondly of you.
ENEMIES
It is incredibly easy to get on his shit-list. Basically, if you are a human, you’re automatically an enemy. If you get in his way, you’re an enemy. If you’re a part of the system that trapped him, you’re an enemy.
LOVERS
To quote the man himself, “Only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love!” …Needless to say, I don’t think it’s on the menu.
