[color=ed1c24][h3][b]K A I N  B R A D W E L L[/b][/h3]

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[color=fff200][u][i]Several years ago,  Slums, Merc Territory, Alleyways. [/i][/u][/color]

“Wit… Hey Wit! Look at me!” Kains voice cracked as he stared at the pale faced young man. "Look at me Dammit!" Wits eyes were glazed over and the blood would not stop flowing from the head wound. He was growing entirely limp in Kains hands, cradled against the largers man chest. Kain found that he tried to keep the blood out of those hazel brown eyes.  Crimson rivers ran down a face that Kain was used to see make funny faces and down over those sweet lips that Kain had kissed so many times. Kain bellowed out his impotent rage, he screamed curses at Merc and his entire so called ‘family’. Snot ran down from his nose, mixing with salty tears, his voice cracked painfully as he screamed his throat raw.

“Wit. Please Wit.” He pushed his forehead to that of Wits, Wits blood messing kains long hair up, plastering it to Wits pale face. “C’mon wit. Crack a joke. You are better then this. You are everything I have. Please. Please Wit? Please. Please.” He repeated the word like a mantra, his massive frame shaking with the loud sobbing. “Please” He couldn’t stop begging for it to not be true. He refused to accept it.  He cradled that head, despite the nasty head wound. And no matter how he tried, he could not stop crying. That’s when he felt a weak hand against his chin.

“You big… idiot.. Why are you.. here” Wit croaked out. There was no humour in his voice, just a bone chilling exhaustion.

“Y-you’re Alive?!” Kain felt a brief flame of hope in his large chest. But one look into Wits dimming, but for now once more sharp eyes, told him Wit didn’t think he’d make it.

“...Almost.. But you shouldn’t be here.. I made a deal to protect you.. Kain… I told him you had nothing to do with it.” Wit had to press out the words. His hand was sticky blood and it smeared across Kains cheek. Kain held it to him none the less. Sobbing and probably getting snot all over Wit.

“You’re gonna be allright. I’ll get a doctor” Kain mumbled incoherently, strying to get up to his feet and carry Wit out the alley. 

“N-no. I won’t. None of the clinics here will treat me… besides.. I can’t feel my body past one arm.. I am smart enough.. to realize I am dead. So are you Kain.”  Wit said gravely, but with a smile. He ran his hand across the other mans chin, to his lips. 

“No! No I will fucking make them heal you.” Kian said in panic. Seeing that light leave Wits eyes once more.

“Kain, what’s big, humble and loyal to a fault.” Wits voice trembled with the effort to stay coherent. Only wit would be able to make a dumb joke while dying from brain hemmorage.  

“I… Am.” Kain sobbed.

“Don’t stay and fight Merc. Get out of here. Like you always said you… were..” Wits hand fell down into lifeless limp. 

“ Please. Don-” But wit had closed his eyes, smiling that stupid smile even in death. The scream that echoed out in the night was enough to rattle nearby windows. Some of the residents would never forget the sound, and those in the know quietly referred to it as ‘The day Kain went mad’. Wits death would not go unavenged, and his demise would seriously damage Mercs reputation and popularity among the others for years to come. But for Kaine, it was when his entire world collapsed, and rage took over his life. 

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[color=fff200][u][i]Camp /// Tundra // Present Day[/i][/u][/color]

[i][color=ed1c24]We are the firebrand. We are the punishment. We are Justice. We are the fire that burns away sin. We are vengeance, we are the retribution found only in the destruction of the craven. Embrace my fire Host, and be one with the only Truth. Be one with Fire. [/color][/i]


Kains feet made the snow melt just that much faster then the other around him. His abnormal body heat made the snow barely touch him. Yet he hated the snow. He was a city boy, what snow reached them back in the slums had the decency to look like everything else: Polluted and full of tar. This white stuff was strangely off putting. But he was a soldier, and a SOLDIER caught complaining about snow would garner strange looks.  So Kain sat, a hulking brute of a man, steaming. Not out of anger but because his body heat literally made steam rise off his skin and his bare arms had the added effect of being the size of some mens legs. Sitting there, steam rising off his body in tendrils of hot vapor, sharpening his trench knives made for a intimidating sight.  The ordinary personnel took routes that would keep them out of his sight and he would have to be blind not to notice the looks they gave him

. Everyone knew a bad apple when they saw it. Kain didn’t care much for them either.  Ever since he had been taken to train for Soldier, he had wondered back in his head why he was allowed such an opportunity. Wit had told him to never trust “The Man” but after he had been put in a cell, he had not seen much choice. He had only the one life, the one that Wit had made sure he could have outside of Mercs insidious influence. He might have traded one asshole for a whole bunch of them, but it didn’t matter. 


The slumdog sat, sharpening his knives for the fifth time that week. He found it was a great way to get people to leave him alone and that way he didn’t have to become pissed off at someone over something trivial like the fact that didn’t leave him alone. In short, he wasn’t a people's person. Not since Wit had died in his arms, part of his head caved in by a lead pipe had he really tried to be anything close to social. Yet, the being inside him was tugging him towards the fire, it called to them. It was their element, regardless of whoever huddled around it. That, and he picked up something about eating.  And so he rose, like a titan getting up from its rest, and began lumbering towards the others.  His steps made the snow melt wherever his feet touched , leaving a pretty obvious trail behind him.

“I heard food.” Kain said in that deep, baritone voice of his as he made his way to the small group of fellow Soldiers. This was his first time meeting most of them. Except for Corr, as Kain had seen him around camp being one of the early arrives himself. He nodded respectfully to his fellow giant of a man. Corr was ok in Kains book, the man had a easy way to him and a emphatic nature that was a strength rather than a exploitable weakness. He could respect that, he knew Wit would have to. The berserker didn’t care for many of the others however, Carmen reminded him of Merc entirely to much. Those eyes were filled with a mad dogs will to survive at every cost, Merc had the same eyes. Manic, dangerous and charismatic. Never again would he trust such a person. Realizing suddenly he had not introduced himself he spoke.

“Kain.” He said, as if that explained everything. “Just. Kain.”

Inside him, his aeon coiled itself around in a fiery knot.[i] [color=ed1c24]“Wicked. Wicked. Do not trust the wicked. Let the fire speak. Fire, Burn, Exact the toll of the the infernal pit. “[/color][/i] The Aeon was entirely not helping and he was still coping with the way it seemed to fuel his own misgivings and not to mention his rage.  [i][color=ed1c24]“Burn. This world. So full of evil. So full of injustice. Burn it. Burn it all.”[/color][/i] He felt the Aeon rage but he quelled it with some effort. It must have reacted to them. It did that, it was as if it could smell those that had killed in cold blood or otherwise committed terrible crimes.