Name: Garr Shyver
Weight: 210 lbs.
Hair color: Dark Brown
Eye color: Pale Gray
Ethnic origin: European
Species Type: Newtype
Prototype Mobile Suit: GGF-001 Phoenix Gundam
~ He has respect for the law, but prefers to be out by himself and not under the rule of anyone for any longer than he has to be.
~ His blessing and his curse is that he possesses an utterly flawless memory.
His first memories were of light and shadow. His first thoughts were of the robbing of warmth and a desire to return to simplicity. When asked of his childhood, Garr could always be counted on to be able to recite in detail anything that had happened to him. At school, he learned and learned; even the most trivial of things were a treasure to his young mind. He learned of girls and emotions; of the cruel twists of Fate and the smell of blood.
When he was eight, the first major change in Garr’s life happened. At school one day, a guest speaker from the Vermillion Sovereignty had come to speak with the class on the importance of diversity and respect for other people. Little did anyone suspect that the school would come under fire; or more precisely mortar attack; from Eden’s Genesis. The attack left many people wounded, bleeding, and dying; yet another strike against non-Oldtypes by the terrorist group. Garr had been sitting in the middle of the classroom and by a twist of fate had managed to be in precisely the right part of the room to keep from getting hit by debris or the explosions. He had sat there until the barrage had ended before getting up and calmly helping people; for some reason he found himself an island of calm in that raging swirl of emotions.
It wasn’t until he’d reached sixteen that the calm shell he’d found himself in shattered. People had all praised him for his skills and demeanor and everything of that sort but it had all just slid off him like oil and water. He hadn’t told anyone but since that mortar attack he’d been able to gauge the emotional state of other people better, as if he could see into their heads on an un-natural level. Trying out for school sports required him to have a physical and having a few classmates who were Newtypes and had mentioned having similar feelings about people around them, Garr asked the physicians to run some of the standard tests that had been developed for identifying Newtypes. The tests came back solidly in the positive.
For some reason, Garr snapped. To this day and even with his flawless memory he doesn’t know why he lost control, but he did. It wasn’t that he hated Newtypes. He didn’t have any hard feelings or bad memories about any of the so-called ‘races’. Regardless, he went into self-imposed seclusion for a week as he sorted this new information through his mind. As he curled up in a corner at his home, Garr’s parents worried that the news had harmed him somehow. He managed to reconcile the news and return to society where his new insight allowed him to make sense of the feelings he’d been having for years. It was an eye-opening experience, and one he’d be sure to keep foremost in his mind.
Upon graduation, he’d managed to avoid military service by working at a scrap yard where old military hardware came to die. The work was tough but satisfying; and it gave Garr a chance to work in an old first-generation Zaku II that the yard’s owners kept around for some of the heavy lifting. Piloting seemed to come naturally to Garr so he quickly became the primary operator and was praised for his efficiency. One day, as he was clearing some of the older scrap during a slow day he came across something that made him stop in his tracks. It lay there among the rubble and refuse; a fallen titan that eclipsed the poor Zaku he was in by magnitudes. Going through the old records, Garr discovered it was a discarded prototype that had failed to meet the high military standards due to its utter lack of beam weaponry or exotic control systems.
He decided to restore it to its former glory, and maybe work as an armed escort or in civil defense. It tore through ammunition like nothing he’d ever heard of; but he had to admit he felt at peace in the cockpit. The roar of the gatlings soothed him. Since it was a readily discarded prototype, the Vermillion Sovereignty authorities had little problem with a civilian owning such a weapon since he registered it as a privateer. He wasn’t the best out there, but he could search for a higher purpose with his newfound power.
This power, however, was insufficient for the tasks he set himself to. After a disastrous attempt to destroy the Alliance of Artemis’ Mars Haven base, Garr was driven off into a situation where he would have died had he not discovered the buried Phoenix Gundam in the Martian wastes. A time later, he ended up on Earth just in time for the events with the Divinidad on Earth. Trapped below the ion storms, Garr has spent the past few months doing what he had to in order to survive. He searches now for clues to the history of the Phoenix and the other fifth-generation Mobile Suits, a heightening of his Newtype powers, and a way off of Earth.