Membership: London Dungeon
Apparent Age: 70+
Archetype: Physical Adept: Circle Good Freaking Question
Preferred Weapon: ???
Bio: Hello everyone my name is Sylvester and I have decided that I wont give the Demure (How stupid of them to add the “E” at the end of Demur….they truly show their lack of comprehension of the English language) a chance to roast me here on this website. I already read what they wrote about me on our division page and that makes me very unhappy. So I am pulling an Edison here and hijacking my own page and writing my own autobiography of sorts. I will leave out the hum drum and boring details no body cares about and stick to known facts about Dr. Sylvester Sinister PhD.
I am from Yorkshire England where I was born and raised, I have lived in Yorkshire most of my adult life until I moved to London Town about a decade ago to be closer to the office as I really tired of commuting via train. I already had a large flat in London that I would use most days seeing my work would not normally allow me to simply leave to catch the last engine home and well I tired of sleeping in my office or a hotel.
I was married for over fifty years to the same women so yes good old Sly here is very boring in that regard, I had no sleazy affairs or second families like you Americans believe us spies always have….in reality we live simple boring lives with the occasional excitement thrown in to spice things up. I am a father of four, a grandfather of twelve and a great grandfather of five; my wife Susan Sinister recently passed away just after our fifty-seventh wedding anniversary and I have buried two of my children, and three of my grand babies do to war, disease and accidents. A father should never have to go through the heartbreak of burying their own children but seeing I am one of the Immortality Project, this will be my cross to bear.
I attend regular church service on Sunday mornings with the Church of England that I have been part of for quite some time, being a devoted Christian is hard in my line of work but my Susan made sure that we didn’t simply become lip service Christians or Holiday Christians….she felt that worship service was a way for me to heal my soul and for the children to have a strong moral foundation, and she was correct.
I hold multiple degrees and two doctoral studies degrees in Theoretical Physics and Chemical Engineering; I hold a degree in Media Studies and Forensic Pathology as well as one in Criminal Psychology so yes good old Dr. Sinister here is quite the book learned and studied. I am as well not your average field agent for the British Intelligence Division as I spend most of my days in the office, my lab or the morgue. I work as the Medical Examiner and lead the Criminal Forensic Division for MI6 and MI7, so again my days are filled with lab work, exams, case studies and evaluations…in a nut shell “paperwork”.
Now you wonder why I am on this website seeing I am a simple lab rat and not a “00” field agent, you wonder why anyone would simply care about a good old PhD and medically trained office monkey. Well everyone here at MI7 is fully trained to handle the field and we are all licensed and practised 00 agents, this you can find in the public records division and our introductory pamphlets that we give out in London and at recruiting stations throughout the United Kingdom so nothing new and secret there.
I won’t regale you with all the boring details of my day to day life, as a slow day for me is a good day. Though I will tell you a few stories about me that are all factual and on the record so they are able to be disclosed in a public forum such as this. I know I am not Edison as he is a comical man and I am more cut and dry, lets say your typical Englishman. So this may read more like a text book than a novel but thats just how I am…..sorry in advance if you were hoping for quirky one liners and lots of glibness thats just not who I am.
Well for starters how did I earn the moniker Agent Orange, well that is a funny story as I have had that handle from my freshman year here at the agency when I was a rookie agent, remember we are all fully trained field agents in MI7 and hence I had to go through all the hazing and grunt work as everyone else till I was put to work elsewhere. So yes I am a Special Agent and a 00 not going to give you my number….thats not public record; so where was I oh yes my moniker.
Well it was my first few months here at MI6 and I have always loved oranges, yes the fruit it is my favourite citrus fruit and I would always have one in my brown bag with my lunch, I would have one on my desk, I drank orange juice every morning with breakfast and well you get the point. I have been a fan of that simply little fruit since I was a child and it stuck with me through my adult life….I still enjoy an orange now and than. Well it was the Monday after Fathers Day and my first born decided to get good old dad here a new neck tie….how typical but classic. This tie was bright neon orange and green, it was very loud and very wide and was covered in screen printed oranges with the stems and green leaves. This is a tie I would never wear as I am very conservative gentleman and I worked in a very professional environment. Though all you dads out there will understand when your son of daughter looks up at you and asks “Dad are you going to wear the tie I gave you?” and than gives you those puppy dog eyes that all children possess and with a quivering lip says “Don’t you like it?” your heart melts and you say the only answer that you can give and that is I will go and put it on now <Insert Off Springs Name Here>.
I did just that, I turned back around took off my tie and changed into that loud and God Awful thing that I was given but seemingly now I just love that tie, don’t wear it much but I still have it and whenever I look at it I remember my son and all the good times we had. Back on track Sinister, well I was already running late that morning seeing my Susan was pregnant and had a rough night, I hadn’t gotten much sleep and had to run to the market numerous times for her throughout the night for sudden cravings. So in my haste I forgot to grab a spare tie and when I learned of my error I didn’t have time to stop at the five and dime to pick one up. The dress code at MI6 and MI7 is still suit and tie are compulsory for all male employees and I was a rookie so being late and out of compliance was out of the question; I just straitened my tie, hoping I had a spare in my desk, adjusted my jackets and cuffs and walked into the office in my navy suit, crisp white shirt and this loud bright orange tie and pocket square yes it had a matching pocket square. I was simply glowing, yes I was glowing do to the day glow colours of that neck piece and how it contrasted against my white shirt and dark navy suit.
I tried to slip into my desk and quickly look for my spare tie and learned that I had already brought it home seeing I had to change into it the other day when the tie I was wearing had become soiled. Now I couldn’t hide, I couldn’t run and I couldn’t take the day off as I had case work that needed to be done so I simply opened my brown bag pulled out my orange, and began eating my breakfast as I booted up the computer and started my day. Well my coworkers were already whispering and pointing at my choice of neck ties for the day and even one an older gent said….”Fathers Day gift?” and gave an understanding nod and smirk. Though when my boss walked into the room he looked directly at me and went what do we have hear….looks like we have a new special agent, look everyone it’s Special Agent Orange.
Well after the ribbing and laughing, it stuck like epoxy and I couldn’t shake the moniker and simply embraced it. I would wear many orange ties throughout my career after that day, though much more conservative and professional in nature. As a rookie once your boss gives you a name it’s yours whether you like it or not, seeing this was my chosen career and I was only just starting it would be a long haul if I rejected the moniker and still had to deal with all my coworkers addressing me by that name. I have even been referred to as Doctor Orange a few time, I simply laugh now but than it was a tad frustrating trying to remain professional when thats all you hear everyday.
So thats how I earned the moniker of Agent Orange, sorry it is not a more action based story and something that you would see outside of a British situational comedy program. I still wear orange now and than and still enjoy a good citrus fruit from time to time. Though I can say that my moniker did become all to real during the Battle for London in 2018, by this point I was a senior agent and had been working for MI6 and MI7 for quite some time. I had my own office and staff, I was heading the forensics division and working directly with the field agents on cases and assignments; I even had a desk plaque made that read Special Agent Orange on it letting my coworkers know I was fully accepting of the nickname and even had my lab coat died orange and embroidered with my handle Dr. Agent Orange on it. Yes now it’s in poor taste and I fully understand, I understand more than you will ever know.
During the days of the London Engagement when the Inishmore where assaulting England, Scotland and Whales we would have many agents deep within Ireland and working against their military and gaining valuable intelligence for the allied forces that stood in direct resistance to the oppression of the Inishmore. Other Intelligence would stay in the offices and try to decipher the incoming data while others like myself would head out into the city to help the people and set up aid stations for anyone that needed medical attention.
This was war and we were going to be prepared, well nothing can prepare you for sudden chemical warfare and the dropping of sarin gas, chlorine gas and agent orange in mass on the people. I mean dropping chemical bombs on the soldiers was already bad enough but to attack the civilians that was new form of evil and we in the UK would not be prepared for the sheer devastation this would entail. Our reports already indicated that London was a major target and we were prepared for an invasion, we were prepared to stand strong and tall against the Irish and give them hell.
My eldest son, my first born would be part of the 92nd Royal Army Regiment that would stand with the 82nd on that day and I would have to witness as my first born would pass away in my arms when he was mortally wounded while defending London and their would be nothing I could do medically. I watched helplessly as thousands died and their cries still haunt me till this day, my time in hell was short as I was mostly working within the medical aid stations that we set up through out the city and I was placed in direct command of them to over see the care given to the soldiers and citizens alike.
Once the chemical bombs started dropping and the skyline would become green with chlorine, high explosive bombs removing historical landmarks with ease and ours and Australian fighters crashing into the cityscape London would once again be under siege, the fires ravaged the districts and towns, while tens of thousands burned to death trapped in their homes. I felt as if we had failed seeing that our information hadn’t warned us of this level of attack directly onto the people. Though I now know that their was nothing that anyone could have do to prepare for this level of violence and violations of war the Inishmore were willing to go.
From my command post within the basement of a old brownstone I could hear the cries and emergency calls coming in, the ground shook violently throughout the fighting as the bombs pounded the city and buildings collapsed. We lost power and running water quickly as the infrastructure was the first thing to go, and eventually communications would go down and than cell service would follow suit. We in the Dungeon still had access to old tinny hand radios, though not many newer agents understood how to use these antiquated devices and many would loose their lives simply out of failure to adhere to training protocols.
Even as the commander of the medical aid stations I would have to rely on all my years of expertise and training to keep myself and the few that I was able to save. The gas was the real killer during that engagement and even with proper chemical gear and antidotes it would still consume thousands within the city and many smaller neighbourhoods would be completely wiped out from the gas or the fires that followed.
I would survive that battle but again I am unsure how as I was wounded, my arm broken, shoulder dislocated and my hip, knee and ankle destroyed when the building we were in collapsed. I would loose all my patients and my staff in a blink of an eye when the building filled with debris and I would end up pinned under the support beams. liquefied chlorine pouring into my eye, and open wounds stinging and poisoning me with ever drop the agent orange tearing at my joints, muscles and bones as shrapnel buried deep into my body making breathing a chore.
I would end up laying there for what seemed like days but was probably only hours with the old tin radio in my good arm and that was being generous with good seeing my wrist was shattered, shrapnel tore into my hand, elbow and shoulder as only my thumb and pinky finger weren’t busted and torn apart. I kept repeating the Morris Code for SOS over and over again, again not sure how as the pain was beyond anything I had ever felt before but I kept going and eventually I would be rescued by the US Army Corps of Engineers and taken to a medical station and eventually the hospital.
Now my injuries are bad and my joints ache as I suffer agent orange syndrome, my eye was burned by the chlorine and my lungs forever damaged. Though I am a fighter and a stubborn old Englishman, I refused to retire or accept a desk job and told my people that I will remain in British Intelligence till the day justice is served and those guilty of chemical warfare are brought to the gallows. I lost my eldest son on that day right before my very eyes and yet do to the collapse of the building his body would be destroyed, they could recover enough for me to at least have a funeral and bury my son for the hero he is.
I would loose one of my grand babies that day as well as there village in Northern England was bombed and the church where they were hiding would be struck directly by a high explosive anti personnel bomb. My baby boy only a few years old never stood a chance as the shrapnel and debris would end his life. My daughter and son-in-law would survive but end up badly wounded as they watched as Juniper Gunner would cry out in pain unknowing of whats going on and die in their arms.
Even though I technically disabled and shouldn’t be in the field, my status as a senior agent has allowed to remain on the payroll and keep doing the good work I have been doing for decades for my country. Sorry I cant delve deeper into the work I do as it is classified and I am not an idiot, you will have to deal with the boring rantings of an old man that has no sense of humour. I simply love my job and will remain working till the day I die, I am not willing to retire and not willing to hang up my lab coat just yet. I may hurt and I may suffer each day with the memories of my children and my wife that have left this mortal coil but I know each day that as I forge ahead I am one day closer to bringing those responsible for the gas attacks in London to justice and one day I will stand with my head held high and watch as they swing from a broken neck for their sins….I only hope they allow Dr. Sinister to pull the lever to drop the floor out from under them, though simply watching as the noose is placed over their head and cinched tight and the reality of their impending execution and death sinks in as the hoods are placed over their heads letting my face be the last thing they see before they die; knowing that it was my dutiful and dedicated work that would be their downfall will warm my damaged heart.
I have joined up with the US Elite and have proudly secured myself within the officers corps as a thank you to the dutiful work that is being done in the investigation of the chemical attacks and the hard work of my dear friend General Ralph Rivers. I am proud to be working alongside Adolf Gunner again and being there to help Andrew and Max grow up to be proper officers and gentleman. I might now have to commute allot more and at my age that will not be pleasant as the red eye is very trying for someone of my age and disability but seeing my children are all grown and my wife is gone…..this is a new chapter in my life and one I wish to spend with those I hold dear, my friends and family of the 401st, 82nd and 51st, to the young lads that I had a hand in raising you know who you are….Uncle Sylvester will be there shortly; Oh for Max…..”Suffering Succotash.” I do hope you still have those Sylvester the Cat cufflinks I gave you for your Bar Mitzvah, and the tie I gave you when you graduated college.
See you all shortly and Doctor Orange will be within Yankee land once again, please tell me they have good orange juice in the officers mess, and leave my Sylvester the Cat toys alone when I am out of the office. To the cadets I wish you all the best and hope that Taylor Greenspan hasn’t been showing you all up and well Taylor stop the hockey talk please we all know you’re a good old Canadian Idiot….just joshing you chap, though please learn when to shut your pie hole and use your head for more than a hat rack. Well good night and God Bless you all Dr. Sylvester “The Cat” Sinister or SS is coming stateside again.
Written By: Dr. Sylvester “SS” Sinister (Dr. Orange)
PS: Again for Max, I so can still hear you laugh at this “Suffering Succotash.”