This is a storage place for all of my CS's. I also have these backed up at Google Drive. I learned my lesson the hard way when the first site crashed.
[/hider]
Name: Mikael Mikkonen
Gender: Male
Age: 23
God: Perun, the Slavic god of thunder and lightning. He is also the god of fire, mountains, the oak, iris, eagle, the solid state of sky, horses, carts, weapons (especially hammer, axe, arrow), and war.
Powers:
Stage 1: Lightning bolt (charge time takes anywhere between 30 seconds and a minute depending on static electricity in the air)
Stage 2: Faster charge time, Thunder clap (causes short term hearing loss)
Stage 3: Faster charge time, Thunderclap (permanent hearing loss), Channel lightning (channels a lightning strike in all its glory during a storm), Cause storm, Chain lightning
Physical Appearance:
Personality: Mikael is one of those. He is the person everyone wants to be, but the person no one can stand. He’s cocky, arrogant, self-centered, lazy, and a jerk, but he looks good doing it. The girls swarm his bad-boy looks paired with his bad-boy personality, and after a weekend, he leaves them with enough money for a cab. Frankly, he’s an asshole, but people love him for it. Underneath the exterior, he is really just a kid who’s looking to benefit himself. When push comes to shove, he’s ruthless, selfish, and cunning. He does whatever will benefit him and him alone.
Biography: When Mikael was 4, his family moved from Finland to New York. He never quite adjusted to the change. Suddenly, he went from a happy-go-lucky toddler to a quiet child. He chose to be “invisible” at home and it translated into school. His kindergarten teacher sent home multiple notes about his acting out in class and the manor with which he treated the other children. It wasn’t long until Mikael was alienated from all of his peers. This seemed to cause a switch to flip in Mikael’s head. He went from the troubled, quiet child to the invisible child. The only time he was even noticed was when he did something incredibly mean. One day, a little girl was wearing pigtails with bright pink ribbons. When the teacher walked out of the room, Mikael grabbed a pair of scissors, clipped one of her pigtails, then stuffed his gum in the middle of the other pigtail. He was suspended for a week.
If the administration thought this would slow him, they were wrong. When Mikael came back to school, if anything, he was worse. He refused to speak, and the outbursts increased in intensity and frequency. Before he finished second grade, his parents had to send him to a boarding school. This boarding school just so happened to be one of the most respected military boarding schools this side of the Atlantic. Here he was the underdog, the weakling, the runt. His skinny frame and long hair (on arrival) made him an easy target. The boarding school immediately took away everything that Mikael identified himself with. His hair was cut, his small frame was filled out with mandatory muscle, and his clothes were changed. He shut down. He didn’t speak to his parents, never to his peers, and only rarely to his instructors. To pass the time, due to the limited number of activities, Mikael studied battle plans and actually became a rather competent strategist. Without anyone expecting it, Mikael graduated at the top of his class. His top marks were in unarmed/short range combat, strategy, and willpower.
The day he graduated was the last day of his past. He doesn’t speak of his past and absolutely does not look back to it. He started spending his time in social situations where he had no reason to be. He lived at clubs and parties, never talking to anyone unless he was being a jerk. He dressed in full black, military boots, big knife, long black hair. He looked and acted like a total jerk, although an alpha.
He quickly tired of this life, which he viewed as pointless, and he decided it was time for a change of scenery. Everyone and their mother seemed to be moving to London due to the threat of the hatching, and although not much scared him, not even death, he thought there would be a chance to find a purpose in the place where he was safe with a large group of diverse people. The move to London was easy; there were no problems.
Due to his severe lack of trust, the day when a large man with a copper-colored beard carrying an axe appeared in his living room, it took the creation of a real thunderstorm to convince Mikael the man in his living room was truly a god. Perun, the Slavic god of thunder and lightning chose Mikael as his champion. Mikael was quite surprised, and although he wouldn’t mind fighting the demonspawn, he decided he didn’t want to sign up for the Vigilantes. That’s why he hid his powers as a champion until the day he received the letter.
Character Skeleton:
[color=orange]”You must never give into despair. Allow yourself to slip down that road and you surrender to your lowest instincts. In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength.” - Iroh the Dragon of the West[/color]
[color=orange]Name: Fudo Asnee Xu[/color]
[color=orange]Age: 24[/color]
[color=orange]Gender: Male[/color]
[color=orange]Bender: Fire[/color]
[color=orange]Sexuality: Heterosexual[/color]
[color=orange]Potential Interest: On Hold[/color]
[color=orange]Description of Appearance: Fudo is a moderately tall man, around 6’2”. His hair is of moderate length, straight, and black. Although his limbs appear long, if one ever sees him without a shirt, it is clear the man has trained his body physically. Although most would think he would wear clothing to advertise his rather toned muscles, he normally dresses in clothing that masks his strength. This clothing is almost always black, although accented with a striking red. He has the elemental symbol embroidered on his shirt and his coat, directly over his heart. His eyes may be the most striking part of his appearance. His irises are a striking red that cools to a deep scarlet when upset. [/color]
[color=orange]Likes & Dislikes:
+Tea, especially peppermint tea. It is the tea his grandparents often prepared for him just before he was to take a nap or to go to sleep.
+Meditation. His parents, adamant believers in breath control, always pushed Fudo into deep states of meditation controlled by breath.
+Spirituality. Fudo’s entire family is very spiritual and his grandfather once told him he was the most spiritual of all.
+Pai Sho, well because Pai Sho.
-Violence. Fudo has always prefered talking things out, or at least avoid situations that would induce violence.
-Weapons. If a conflict does devolve into violence, Fudo would much rather solve the problem using his bending than with a weapon.
-Pain. Fudo is a wuss. He would rather fight than experience pain.
-Jasmine tea. This is the one tea he dislikes.
+-Lightning. I have this as a +- because while Fudo does know lightning, it is still new to him. This means that while he can bend with lightning, it is dangerous to himself and those around him, especially if he is upset.
[/color]
[color=orange]Strengths & Weaknesses:
+Bending. His breath training and spirituality have only increased his bending prowess, which was already strong through his bloodline.
+Emotional stability. Due to his spirituality and otherwise peaceful demeanor, Fudo does not often lose his composure.
+Discipline. His meditation and bending training have helped instill a keen habit of discipline.
+Physical strength. Fudo’s disciplinary training also involved physical training, although he chooses not to use this in combat.
-Weapons. His dislike for weapons directly translates into a lack of knowledge of use for said weapon.
-Physical combat. Fudo will do anything to avoid physical combat, mainly due to his beliefs, but also due to the fact that he sucks at real physical combat.
-Perceived drive. Due to Fudo’s lack of aggression, many fail to see a purpose or goal in Fudo’s life, and this sometimes affects Fudo himself, hamstringing his best strength, his bending.\
-Emotions. It isn’t exactly Fudo’s emotions that are his weakness, but often his inability or dislike of showing emotion often makes people around him uncomfortable or upset.
[/color]
[color=orange]Personality: Fudo is quiet. Even when one gets to know him, Fudo doesn’t speak much. He doesn’t show his emotions often, and prides himself in this fact, although you’ll never know it. His quiet demeanor is only amplified by the air of reverence and respect that seem to resonate from him, no matter the occasion. He seems to be the walking embodiment of a spiritual leader. While this often acts to his benefit, not yet close friends often feel chided by his lack of emotion towards them, and he has also lost more than one love interest due to a perceived lack of passion. The truth of the matter is Fudo is far from emotionless and only hides behind a mask of feigned indifference and quietness due to maturing in a household that rewarded him greatly for this show of restraint. Fudo attempts to be selfless, accepting, understanding, and every other warm quality one can think of, but either fails to act in such a manner or is perceived to be the opposite of the emotion he is attempting to convey.[/color]
[color=orange]Bio: Fudo was born deep in the heart of the Fire Kingdom. His mother came from a long line of dangerous firebenders who were well accomplished in battle, whether it was Agni Kai or against another people. His father’s family genealogy only went back two generations because Fudo’s father’s grandfather had originally come from Sun Warrior Island. Due to this, Fudo was raised on traditional Dancing Dragons forms and was taught to highly respect the spirits and, of course, the dragons. When Fudo became of age, 7, he was taught classic Sun Warrior firebending forms, such as Dancing Dragons, and the art of breath control through meditation from his father, while his mother taught him more modernized and weaponized forms of firebending, as well as trained his body physically. At the age of 10, Fudo declared that he did not want to continue with lessons that were rooted in violence, and, from that point on, taught only by his father.
Fudo’s father trained Fudo in the way of the spirits, the way of the dragons, and the way of the mind. He taught his son advanced Sun Warrior firebending forms, the art of deep meditation with metered breathing, the art of restraint and respect, and breath control through strenuous physical exercise. Under his father’s tutelage, Fudo became a prodigy. His firebending prowess was off the charts, his breath control was unmatched, his physique was beyond desirable, his restraint was nearly perfect, and his drive came from a place within him, a peaceful place. This wasn’t all without complaint. Fudo’s mother was upset at her son disgracing her family name by refusing to learn how to fight, and became even more upset when her son suddenly appeared to lose all emotion. She constantly questioned his true drive and attempted to refocus his drive on external sources such as anger. While Fudo never fully succumbed to his mother’s pressures, he still bears the scar. To this day, when he is pressured by his closest peers about his drive, it seems to falter.
At the age of 15, Fudo surpassed his father in many ways. Fudo could meditate more deeply, has more physical prowess, had superior breath control, stronger restraint, and most importantly, Fudo has surpassed his father as a firebender. Feeling as though there was nothing left for him to learn, Fudo left home without telling his parents, or anyone, where he was going. After he left, his mother set out a very large manhunt in an attempt to find him and bring him home before he could get hurt, but her efforts proved to be in vain. His father, on the other hand, most likely knew where he went, but felt he had no right to stop his son from aspiring to be the best he could be.
Fudo had left home to go to Sun Warrior Island. Even though most people thought it only to be ruins, Fudo somehow managed to get himself to the island and gain the attention and then affection of the then Sun Warrior chief. It was here where Fudo learned to bend lightning. Fudo learned much in his years with the Sun Warriors and was ready to take the vows to dedicate his life to protecting the Eternal Flame when the chief stopped him. The chief knew that Fudo had become a very special young man in his short time with the Sun Warriors and had picked up on the firebending faster than most of their own. The chief told Fudo to go out into the world and cause good and spread his knowledge. Fudo was 20 years old.
Not knowing where to go, Fudo traveled north until he reached the Western Air Temple. The monks were quite impressed with Fudo’s spirituality and self-made vows to avoid violence at all costs. They kept him for a time, teaching him more about meditation and breathing than one would expect there was to know.
After a time, Fudo left to return home in an attempt to rectify his actions with his parents. When he arrived home, he arrived to a sight that turned his stomach. The guards at the front gates of his home looked incapacitated at best, dead at worst. There was blood on the path near the gate. Fudo quickly made his way up to the house and barged inside. The servants, all benders, were laying on the ground, not moving. After checking the pulse of a few, he realized the staff was dead, but what killed them, he could not tell. His best guess was shock. Without delay, he rushed to his parents chambers and burst in the door, only to find his parents and the head of staff all sobbing. After a few minutes filled with a mixture of shock, relief, and dread, Fudo’s father explained there was a break in by a group of chi blockers who had found a way to permanently remove bending. The chi blockers had killed everyone in the house besides the two heads of the house, his parents, and the head of staff. Everyone Fudo had grown up with was dead including all of the staff and Fudo’s three younger siblings. His parents had permanently lost their bending, and thus, their place at the Fire Lord’s council. Life was definitely not looking up.
Fudo lifted his chin, refusing to let despair sink in. He would not travel down that road. His years and years of training to find drive paid off, he found hope. While his next actions were most likely dictated by the outside forces around him rather than his inner peace. Fudo told his parents he would put an end to the injustice brought on by the chi blockers. It was this day his vow of nonviolence was broken. Although this happened, he is still quite reluctant to fight. The next morning, Fudo set off to put an end to the terrible injustices that were spreading over the world like an untamed wildfire.
[/color]
Name: Lei Sheng Otoko
Nation of Origin: Presumed Kilat
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Lei Sheng is a burly man with a lightning shaped scar over his right eye. No one knows how he got it. His eyes are golden on the outer edge of his iris, but the inner edge is bright, electric blue. Some say he was struck by lightning as a kid, but no one knows. His arms and legs are covered with lightning bolt tattoos that would remind someone who knew of such things of airbender tattoos. The coloration of these tattoos is exactly like his lightning.
Age: 42
Ability: Lightning
Weapon of Choice: Whip sword
Biography: Lei Sheng is a very powerful lightning bender. No one knows about his past, nor what he really looks like. People who see him have no idea he is the head of the Jasmine Dragon. He goes by Menoso around people who don’t know his identity.
Special Information (any quirks we should know about): Lei Sheng’s lightning is a brilliant gold with an electric blue stripe down the center of the bolt. He rarely smiles, and his voice booms like thunder.
Nation of Origin: Presumed Kilat
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Lei Sheng is a burly man with a lightning shaped scar over his right eye. No one knows how he got it. His eyes are golden on the outer edge of his iris, but the inner edge is bright, electric blue. Some say he was struck by lightning as a kid, but no one knows. His arms and legs are covered with lightning bolt tattoos that would remind someone who knew of such things of airbender tattoos. The coloration of these tattoos is exactly like his lightning.
Age: 42
Ability: Lightning
Weapon of Choice: Whip sword
Biography: Lei Sheng is a very powerful lightning bender. No one knows about his past, nor what he really looks like. People who see him have no idea he is the head of the Jasmine Dragon. He goes by Menoso around people who don’t know his identity.
Special Information (any quirks we should know about): Lei Sheng’s lightning is a brilliant gold with an electric blue stripe down the center of the bolt. He rarely smiles, and his voice booms like thunder.
Cs: Character skeleton
Name: Doku Makato
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Grade ( 8th. 9th, 10th, 11th, or 12th ) : 11th
Personality: Dark, Quiet. Doku is one who understands actions are more important than words. He seems to brood and lurk until suddenly, without notice, he acts. Whether that be attacking an opponent, high tailing it, or simply disappearing is based on the situation. He is smart, but many people don't realize that, and those that do see him as cunning and strategic rather than just smart. He can be quite arrogant once he lets down his shields of silence.
Bio: Doku has been an orphan since the age of 8. He lived on the streets doing anything he could for money. He has smuggled and sold drugs, stolen goods to sell on a street corner, committed assassinations, delivered messages, stolen messages, and by the age of 13, had successfully started a gang that took control of his home city, and holds strong even without his presence. At the age of 16, his luck seemed to run out. Hooded beings formed from melted shadows, grabbing the boy, muffling his screams, preventing his escape, and protecting themselves all at the same time. The last thing he remembered was the smell of a sleeping drug. He woke up bound in the back of a wagon. His captives took him to the school and enrolled him.
Doku had heard of the Academy before, and instead of running back to his grungy city to lead the short-lived life of a crime lord, decided to make the most of this mysterious yet surprising opportunity. This being said, he will not hesitate to attempt to create some sort of organizations that ignores the rules.
Overall, Doku is a great fighter, an outstanding strategist, and a confident leader. He lacks in many other areas though. He is unsympathetic, terrible at inter-personal relationships, and cannot fathom the illogical. He is spiritually lost, emotionally stale, and, as such, rarely trusts anyone nor asks for help.
Weapons ( If you have any): A hidden blade (think Assassin's Creed), a set of six throwing knives, a small dagger, and a rapier, although the last is slightly for show. He kept a two piece katana set in his old city, and it somehow mysteriously appeared under his new bunk. For work, he mainly uses the dagger or the hidden blade, but can operate both of his sword types quite effectively.
Appearance: This image but slightly more muscular and no glasses.
[hider=Picture]
Name: Doku Makato
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Grade ( 8th. 9th, 10th, 11th, or 12th ) : 11th
Personality: Dark, Quiet. Doku is one who understands actions are more important than words. He seems to brood and lurk until suddenly, without notice, he acts. Whether that be attacking an opponent, high tailing it, or simply disappearing is based on the situation. He is smart, but many people don't realize that, and those that do see him as cunning and strategic rather than just smart. He can be quite arrogant once he lets down his shields of silence.
Bio: Doku has been an orphan since the age of 8. He lived on the streets doing anything he could for money. He has smuggled and sold drugs, stolen goods to sell on a street corner, committed assassinations, delivered messages, stolen messages, and by the age of 13, had successfully started a gang that took control of his home city, and holds strong even without his presence. At the age of 16, his luck seemed to run out. Hooded beings formed from melted shadows, grabbing the boy, muffling his screams, preventing his escape, and protecting themselves all at the same time. The last thing he remembered was the smell of a sleeping drug. He woke up bound in the back of a wagon. His captives took him to the school and enrolled him.
Doku had heard of the Academy before, and instead of running back to his grungy city to lead the short-lived life of a crime lord, decided to make the most of this mysterious yet surprising opportunity. This being said, he will not hesitate to attempt to create some sort of organizations that ignores the rules.
Overall, Doku is a great fighter, an outstanding strategist, and a confident leader. He lacks in many other areas though. He is unsympathetic, terrible at inter-personal relationships, and cannot fathom the illogical. He is spiritually lost, emotionally stale, and, as such, rarely trusts anyone nor asks for help.
Weapons ( If you have any): A hidden blade (think Assassin's Creed), a set of six throwing knives, a small dagger, and a rapier, although the last is slightly for show. He kept a two piece katana set in his old city, and it somehow mysteriously appeared under his new bunk. For work, he mainly uses the dagger or the hidden blade, but can operate both of his sword types quite effectively.
Appearance: This image but slightly more muscular and no glasses.
[hider=Picture]
Name: Mikael Mikkonen
Gender: Male
Age: 23
God: Perun, the Slavic god of thunder and lightning. He is also the god of fire, mountains, the oak, iris, eagle, the solid state of sky, horses, carts, weapons (especially hammer, axe, arrow), and war.
Powers:
Stage 1: Lightning bolt (charge time takes anywhere between 30 seconds and a minute depending on static electricity in the air)
Stage 2: Faster charge time, Thunder clap (causes short term hearing loss)
Stage 3: Faster charge time, Thunderclap (permanent hearing loss), Channel lightning (channels a lightning strike in all its glory during a storm), Cause storm, Chain lightning
Physical Appearance:
Personality: Mikael is one of those. He is the person everyone wants to be, but the person no one can stand. He’s cocky, arrogant, self-centered, lazy, and a jerk, but he looks good doing it. The girls swarm his bad-boy looks paired with his bad-boy personality, and after a weekend, he leaves them with enough money for a cab. Frankly, he’s an asshole, but people love him for it. Underneath the exterior, he is really just a kid who’s looking to benefit himself. When push comes to shove, he’s ruthless, selfish, and cunning. He does whatever will benefit him and him alone.
Biography: When Mikael was 4, his family moved from Finland to New York. He never quite adjusted to the change. Suddenly, he went from a happy-go-lucky toddler to a quiet child. He chose to be “invisible” at home and it translated into school. His kindergarten teacher sent home multiple notes about his acting out in class and the manor with which he treated the other children. It wasn’t long until Mikael was alienated from all of his peers. This seemed to cause a switch to flip in Mikael’s head. He went from the troubled, quiet child to the invisible child. The only time he was even noticed was when he did something incredibly mean. One day, a little girl was wearing pigtails with bright pink ribbons. When the teacher walked out of the room, Mikael grabbed a pair of scissors, clipped one of her pigtails, then stuffed his gum in the middle of the other pigtail. He was suspended for a week.
If the administration thought this would slow him, they were wrong. When Mikael came back to school, if anything, he was worse. He refused to speak, and the outbursts increased in intensity and frequency. Before he finished second grade, his parents had to send him to a boarding school. This boarding school just so happened to be one of the most respected military boarding schools this side of the Atlantic. Here he was the underdog, the weakling, the runt. His skinny frame and long hair (on arrival) made him an easy target. The boarding school immediately took away everything that Mikael identified himself with. His hair was cut, his small frame was filled out with mandatory muscle, and his clothes were changed. He shut down. He didn’t speak to his parents, never to his peers, and only rarely to his instructors. To pass the time, due to the limited number of activities, Mikael studied battle plans and actually became a rather competent strategist. Without anyone expecting it, Mikael graduated at the top of his class. His top marks were in unarmed/short range combat, strategy, and willpower.
The day he graduated was the last day of his past. He doesn’t speak of his past and absolutely does not look back to it. He started spending his time in social situations where he had no reason to be. He lived at clubs and parties, never talking to anyone unless he was being a jerk. He dressed in full black, military boots, big knife, long black hair. He looked and acted like a total jerk, although an alpha.
He quickly tired of this life, which he viewed as pointless, and he decided it was time for a change of scenery. Everyone and their mother seemed to be moving to London due to the threat of the hatching, and although not much scared him, not even death, he thought there would be a chance to find a purpose in the place where he was safe with a large group of diverse people. The move to London was easy; there were no problems.
Due to his severe lack of trust, the day when a large man with a copper-colored beard carrying an axe appeared in his living room, it took the creation of a real thunderstorm to convince Mikael the man in his living room was truly a god. Perun, the Slavic god of thunder and lightning chose Mikael as his champion. Mikael was quite surprised, and although he wouldn’t mind fighting the demonspawn, he decided he didn’t want to sign up for the Vigilantes. That’s why he hid his powers as a champion until the day he received the letter.
Character Skeleton:
[color=orange]”You must never give into despair. Allow yourself to slip down that road and you surrender to your lowest instincts. In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength.” - Iroh the Dragon of the West[/color]
[color=orange]Name: Fudo Asnee Xu[/color]
[color=orange]Age: 24[/color]
[color=orange]Gender: Male[/color]
[color=orange]Bender: Fire[/color]
[color=orange]Sexuality: Heterosexual[/color]
[color=orange]Potential Interest: On Hold[/color]
[color=orange]Description of Appearance: Fudo is a moderately tall man, around 6’2”. His hair is of moderate length, straight, and black. Although his limbs appear long, if one ever sees him without a shirt, it is clear the man has trained his body physically. Although most would think he would wear clothing to advertise his rather toned muscles, he normally dresses in clothing that masks his strength. This clothing is almost always black, although accented with a striking red. He has the elemental symbol embroidered on his shirt and his coat, directly over his heart. His eyes may be the most striking part of his appearance. His irises are a striking red that cools to a deep scarlet when upset. [/color]
[color=orange]Likes & Dislikes:
+Tea, especially peppermint tea. It is the tea his grandparents often prepared for him just before he was to take a nap or to go to sleep.
+Meditation. His parents, adamant believers in breath control, always pushed Fudo into deep states of meditation controlled by breath.
+Spirituality. Fudo’s entire family is very spiritual and his grandfather once told him he was the most spiritual of all.
+Pai Sho, well because Pai Sho.
-Violence. Fudo has always prefered talking things out, or at least avoid situations that would induce violence.
-Weapons. If a conflict does devolve into violence, Fudo would much rather solve the problem using his bending than with a weapon.
-Pain. Fudo is a wuss. He would rather fight than experience pain.
-Jasmine tea. This is the one tea he dislikes.
+-Lightning. I have this as a +- because while Fudo does know lightning, it is still new to him. This means that while he can bend with lightning, it is dangerous to himself and those around him, especially if he is upset.
[/color]
[color=orange]Strengths & Weaknesses:
+Bending. His breath training and spirituality have only increased his bending prowess, which was already strong through his bloodline.
+Emotional stability. Due to his spirituality and otherwise peaceful demeanor, Fudo does not often lose his composure.
+Discipline. His meditation and bending training have helped instill a keen habit of discipline.
+Physical strength. Fudo’s disciplinary training also involved physical training, although he chooses not to use this in combat.
-Weapons. His dislike for weapons directly translates into a lack of knowledge of use for said weapon.
-Physical combat. Fudo will do anything to avoid physical combat, mainly due to his beliefs, but also due to the fact that he sucks at real physical combat.
-Perceived drive. Due to Fudo’s lack of aggression, many fail to see a purpose or goal in Fudo’s life, and this sometimes affects Fudo himself, hamstringing his best strength, his bending.\
-Emotions. It isn’t exactly Fudo’s emotions that are his weakness, but often his inability or dislike of showing emotion often makes people around him uncomfortable or upset.
[/color]
[color=orange]Personality: Fudo is quiet. Even when one gets to know him, Fudo doesn’t speak much. He doesn’t show his emotions often, and prides himself in this fact, although you’ll never know it. His quiet demeanor is only amplified by the air of reverence and respect that seem to resonate from him, no matter the occasion. He seems to be the walking embodiment of a spiritual leader. While this often acts to his benefit, not yet close friends often feel chided by his lack of emotion towards them, and he has also lost more than one love interest due to a perceived lack of passion. The truth of the matter is Fudo is far from emotionless and only hides behind a mask of feigned indifference and quietness due to maturing in a household that rewarded him greatly for this show of restraint. Fudo attempts to be selfless, accepting, understanding, and every other warm quality one can think of, but either fails to act in such a manner or is perceived to be the opposite of the emotion he is attempting to convey.[/color]
[color=orange]Bio: Fudo was born deep in the heart of the Fire Kingdom. His mother came from a long line of dangerous firebenders who were well accomplished in battle, whether it was Agni Kai or against another people. His father’s family genealogy only went back two generations because Fudo’s father’s grandfather had originally come from Sun Warrior Island. Due to this, Fudo was raised on traditional Dancing Dragons forms and was taught to highly respect the spirits and, of course, the dragons. When Fudo became of age, 7, he was taught classic Sun Warrior firebending forms, such as Dancing Dragons, and the art of breath control through meditation from his father, while his mother taught him more modernized and weaponized forms of firebending, as well as trained his body physically. At the age of 10, Fudo declared that he did not want to continue with lessons that were rooted in violence, and, from that point on, taught only by his father.
Fudo’s father trained Fudo in the way of the spirits, the way of the dragons, and the way of the mind. He taught his son advanced Sun Warrior firebending forms, the art of deep meditation with metered breathing, the art of restraint and respect, and breath control through strenuous physical exercise. Under his father’s tutelage, Fudo became a prodigy. His firebending prowess was off the charts, his breath control was unmatched, his physique was beyond desirable, his restraint was nearly perfect, and his drive came from a place within him, a peaceful place. This wasn’t all without complaint. Fudo’s mother was upset at her son disgracing her family name by refusing to learn how to fight, and became even more upset when her son suddenly appeared to lose all emotion. She constantly questioned his true drive and attempted to refocus his drive on external sources such as anger. While Fudo never fully succumbed to his mother’s pressures, he still bears the scar. To this day, when he is pressured by his closest peers about his drive, it seems to falter.
At the age of 15, Fudo surpassed his father in many ways. Fudo could meditate more deeply, has more physical prowess, had superior breath control, stronger restraint, and most importantly, Fudo has surpassed his father as a firebender. Feeling as though there was nothing left for him to learn, Fudo left home without telling his parents, or anyone, where he was going. After he left, his mother set out a very large manhunt in an attempt to find him and bring him home before he could get hurt, but her efforts proved to be in vain. His father, on the other hand, most likely knew where he went, but felt he had no right to stop his son from aspiring to be the best he could be.
Fudo had left home to go to Sun Warrior Island. Even though most people thought it only to be ruins, Fudo somehow managed to get himself to the island and gain the attention and then affection of the then Sun Warrior chief. It was here where Fudo learned to bend lightning. Fudo learned much in his years with the Sun Warriors and was ready to take the vows to dedicate his life to protecting the Eternal Flame when the chief stopped him. The chief knew that Fudo had become a very special young man in his short time with the Sun Warriors and had picked up on the firebending faster than most of their own. The chief told Fudo to go out into the world and cause good and spread his knowledge. Fudo was 20 years old.
Not knowing where to go, Fudo traveled north until he reached the Western Air Temple. The monks were quite impressed with Fudo’s spirituality and self-made vows to avoid violence at all costs. They kept him for a time, teaching him more about meditation and breathing than one would expect there was to know.
After a time, Fudo left to return home in an attempt to rectify his actions with his parents. When he arrived home, he arrived to a sight that turned his stomach. The guards at the front gates of his home looked incapacitated at best, dead at worst. There was blood on the path near the gate. Fudo quickly made his way up to the house and barged inside. The servants, all benders, were laying on the ground, not moving. After checking the pulse of a few, he realized the staff was dead, but what killed them, he could not tell. His best guess was shock. Without delay, he rushed to his parents chambers and burst in the door, only to find his parents and the head of staff all sobbing. After a few minutes filled with a mixture of shock, relief, and dread, Fudo’s father explained there was a break in by a group of chi blockers who had found a way to permanently remove bending. The chi blockers had killed everyone in the house besides the two heads of the house, his parents, and the head of staff. Everyone Fudo had grown up with was dead including all of the staff and Fudo’s three younger siblings. His parents had permanently lost their bending, and thus, their place at the Fire Lord’s council. Life was definitely not looking up.
Fudo lifted his chin, refusing to let despair sink in. He would not travel down that road. His years and years of training to find drive paid off, he found hope. While his next actions were most likely dictated by the outside forces around him rather than his inner peace. Fudo told his parents he would put an end to the injustice brought on by the chi blockers. It was this day his vow of nonviolence was broken. Although this happened, he is still quite reluctant to fight. The next morning, Fudo set off to put an end to the terrible injustices that were spreading over the world like an untamed wildfire.
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Character Sheet:
Character Name - Mikael Mikkonen
Race - Human
Gender - Male
Age - 32
Appearance -
Height - 6’
Weight - 200 Lbs
Clothing - Normally dark, mostly black clothing. Often wears a floor length coat if weather permits. In heat, he strips down to a pair of dark jeans and a black cut off shirt.
Weapons - .44 Anaconda, Combat knife, Katana
Speciality - Close combat, deception, knowledge
Skills - Seemingly photographic memory, swordsmanship, proficient liar
Flaws - Jaded, doesn’t know how to work in teams, loner, doesn’t trust others, especially non-humans, near-addiction to energy drinks, one drink turns into thirteen much too easily
Fears - Losing someone close to him. being turned, losing his humanity or his mind
Personality - Comes off as a real jackass. In short, he’s a jerk who ostracizes others. He also comes across as cocky, but his foundation is glass. He handles stress poorly, often resulting in binge drinking and bar fights. He cries himself to sleep most nights. He is severely broken.
Backstory - The story of Mikael Mikkonen begins with another. Henrikki Mikkonen was an odd child, and then an odd man. As a young boy, Henrikki loved fairy tales and clung to every word of every tale he could track down, although for the young boy, those tales really only consisted of the stories his mummo (grandmother) told him when he spent his days there. Henrikki’s mummo was a superstitious old woman and gladly passed on the Finnish fairy tales to her grandson, even against his parents wishes. Henrikki’s parents were both devout Christians and felt the stories would only pollute their son’s mind. They were right. As Henrikki grew older, instead of growing out of these outlandish tales, his interest and fascination only seemed to grow. He badgered his mummo for more details, for the truth. Everyone seemed to think he had gone mad, and maybe he had. That was until he met Palka. Suddenly Henrikki was a new man. He was responsible, straight-forward, right-minded, and hard-working. His parents couldn’t have been more proud. Within a year, Henrikki and Palka were wed in a large church that, up until the wedding, Henrikki refused to enter.
Shortly after the wedding, Henrikki began to act strangely. While he hadn’t visibly reverted to his obsession with the mythical, something was amiss. When Palka questioned him about it, he would brush the question off, as if nothing were wrong. He began to become more and more distressed. One day, Henrikki burst in the door, a feverish look upon his face. Palka, with the swelling belly of a soon-to-be mother, was quite frightened, repeatedly asking Henrikki to explain why he was home from work so early and what the problem was. Henrikki ignored her and rushed to the spare bedroom, the baby’s bedroom. He ripped a hidden panel off the wall, revealing a large stack of ancient looking tomes. He ripped out of the room, returning almost immediately, but with a trunk in tow. He filled the trunk with the old, but not dusty, tomes.
Henrikki looked up at his loving wife, fear folding her face in tight wrinkles. With an odd gleam in his eyes, he began to tell her to pack. She quieted a sob, expecting the worst. Her husband had to be a criminal, or worse. He didn’t seem intent on explaining himself, but the force in his voice encouraged her to listen to his words. Within the hour, most of the small family’s material possessions were packed in bags and trunks. Henrikki carried his trunk as though it were a feather, most likely due to the adrenaline pumping through his veins. They seemed to fly as their automobile sped towards the port. They rushed onto the nearest ferry, and as the boat undocked and started drifting out of the port, a pack of outrageously large wolves flew out of the trees at the edge of the small town. They were safe.
While they weren’t dead, there were many, many issues still unsolved. Henrikki still hadn’t explained what was going on to his wife, and seemed willing to do anything but. They also didn’t know what ferry they were on or where they were headed. That night, as soon as Henrikki’s chest started to sink and rise in the slow rhythm of sleep, Palka silently stood from the small bed and crept to the ancient trunk. She almost gasped as she opened the chest, catching herself at the last moment. The tomes that her husband had so frantically protected were books on the occult. Books about vampires, werewolves, zombies, and the like. She was taken aback, totally unprepared for what she was seeing. She had never known this side of her husband, but yet she was pregnant with his child. She needed to get some air.
Her scream was muffled by a hand. Instinctively, she attempted to wrench herself free of her assailant, although his grip was incredibly strong. Suddenly, she heard the comforting voice of her husband’s voice whispered in her ear. He told her not to move, not to scream, and that it was dangerous for her to go alone, at least until they landed at their mystery destination. The next time she asked him, he simply told her it would all come in good time.
One morning, as the young couple woke from a deep slumber, Henrikki realized the ship was slowing. He became frantic, wondering if they had found him. He rushed out of bed and flew out to the deck. The rising sun cast his shadow down upon the water as a smile crept across his face. The Statue of Liberty was growing taller by the minute. It wasn’t long until Palka joined her husband.
Henrikki thought he, as well as his family, was now safe. If only he were right.
Flash forward.
Mikael grew up feeling like two people. There was the person he was in public. That was the cheerful, friendly Mikael. That Mikael was popular, good at sports, well liked, smart, and well behaved. Teachers raved about how mature and well rounded he was while his parents silently boasted. Then there was the other Mikael. This Mikael was probably closer to the truth, but he wouldn’t have been well liked. He was strategic, cunning, cutthroat, and, most importantly, weird. He had been taking secret lessons with his dad, and while he only half believed the crazy stories Henrikki told him, he was obsessed. He spent time at the local library reading as many books as possible, trying to round out an idea of the occult. He had already read all of his father’s tomes at least once, if not twice. While Henrikki had told Mikael to live the split life, Mikael did reveal his inner side to another, once. That’s when disaster struck.
Mikael was walking home when he first realized something was off. He started running, sprinting really, as soon as he saw the door from down the block. Well, what was left of the door anyway. It had been kicked in, probably by a thief of some kind. He walked into his home to the smell of blood and burnt flesh. There was a trail that led to the family room, the room where Henrikki had always kept a sword. In fact, as he had always told Mikael, the sword was made of silver, to protect from werewolves. On the floor was Palka, covered in blood, a large chunk was missing from one of her legs, and she appeared to be unconscious from blood loss. Henrikki, on the other hand, was slumped against the fireplace. Bite marks covered his arms. The sword was sticking out of the wall as if someone had thrown it. Seeing Mikael, Henrikki rushed to call him over, and in a weak voice explained what happened. Werewolves had attacked, although Henrikki wasn’t sure why. He had fought them off the best he could, cutting a chunk out of one’s shoulder before the sword was knocked away and he was swarmed. Palka was bitten once, just enough to turn her, but Henrikki had been bitten as punishment. Henrikki told Mikael what he had to do. Neither Henrikki nor Palka wanted to live as a beast, filled with uncontrollable, dangerous urges. Mikael had to get the sword and decapitate both of his parents. Mikale immediately shut down. He couldn’t be expected to do something like that; he was only sixteen. Then his mother started to wake up. Without even thinking, Mikael pulled the sword from the wall and with one clean slash, his mother’s head rolled. Henrikki begged to be killed, as he couldn’t do it himself, but Mikael was in a terrible state. He had just killed his mother, granted it was out of mercy, but he was in no shape to do anything else. Finally, Henrikki began to make a noise. It was a whimper mixed with pleading grunts. Mikael swallowed, and with a tear, mercifully murdered his father. Mikael was about to go pack as he would be leaving that night, when he saw his mother’s disembodied head. The eyes were open. The last thing his confused and dazed mother saw was her son swinging a sword at her neck. He collapsed, waking up the next day in tears and vomit.
Mikael cleaned up, packed up all his belongings, and found his father’s old wooden chest. He went to the secret room, filled the chest with the books, loaded all his belongings into the family, his car, and left his life behind.
Mikael traveled, doing odd jobs for food and a shower, spending large amounts of time at different local libraries, attempting to learn as much as he could about the creatures that ruined his life. He still had nightmares. Every night. Even though he slept with the silver sword stashed under the back seat of the car. Every shadow was one of the fiends, every noise was a growl or a claw on the pavement. He didn’t sleep for days at a time, spending all of his time reading, avoiding the nightmares.
It didn’t take long and Mikael was running from his fears in other ways. He chased skirts, often hitting his mark. He drank. Never beer, mainly whiskey. He’d drink until he couldn’t think, and then he’d drink some more. He’d had to clean the floor of his car multiple times. One night, the bartender took his keys. Without a place to stay, Mikael started hitting on everything that moved. One girl finally took pity on him, played along, and told him to come home with her. Once they got there, she pushed him on the couch, went in her room, and locked the door. He realized what was going on, but before he could attempt anything, he passed out. The next morning, rather mid-afternoon, Mikael awoke to a bottle of water and an aspirin. The woman sat next to him and tried to shake his hand. He almost threw up on her, only stopping just in time. She introduced herself as Amy and asked him if he wanted to rent her spare bedroom. Her roommate had just moved out, leaving her with the full rent. He took it in a heartbeat. He hadn’t had a roof over his head in years. He moved in that day and started looking for a job. He finally found a job at a local factory. It wasn’t much, but it would pay the bills.
Little by little, Amy tamed Mikael. First, the drinking slowed. Then it stopped. Soon he was a supervisor at the factory. Shortly after that, the two of them started sleeping in one room. Within a year, they were Mr. and Mrs. Mikkonen. Mikael began living another double life. He had never shown Amy what was in the chest, and never planned to. At the age of twenty-four, Amy gave Mikael a daughter named Jennifer.
Six years later, The Mikkonen family was driving through a wooded area during the night. The plan was to take a vacation across the country. Suddenly, Mikael slammed on the brakes. Something about the size of a bear was laying on the highway. It stood, and only then did Mikael realize what was happening. Before he could get the car moving, one werewolf from each side hit the car. Jennifer screamed as a claw burst through the window closest to her. Mikael was in the back seat before the paw was fully in the window. He still didn’t go anywhere without his father’s sword. He grabbed it from under the seat and swung wildly. He slashed the arm of the beast, and it howled as its arm shot out of the car. Then he heard his wife’s cries for help. He poked the sword in the front seat and into the werewolf’s nose, just before Amy was bitten. In his recklessness, he accidentally sliced Amy’s cheek. Cursing his clumsiness, he sprang out of the car, protecting his family from himself and being ready to chase down the werewolves. He heard one run through the bushes behind him, and as it charged, Mikael pushed the sword forward, skewering the bloodthirsty werewolf. That’s when he heard the screams. His two angels, the only two women in his life that mattered, screamed in unison. Not a frightened scream, but a scream of pain. As he ran back to the car, the remaining werewolves scattered, sensing the silver in the air. He looked in to see both his wife and his daughter had bite marks on their arms. He screamed in anguish, and only seemed to wail harder when his daughter begged him to tell her what was wrong. He couldn’t do it. There was no way he could kill the only two people that made his life worth living. He wouldn’t do it. Then Amy called him over. She explained that she had found his books, read through them all, and knew what was going to happen. She begged for Mikael to kill her and their daughter. Mikael knew they were right and they’d be happier dead than as a long-living reminder that they were attacked by werewolves, that their life was taken away in the seconds it took for those long, sharp teeth to sink into the soft, tender flesh. Mikael walked around the car to where his daughter was sitting. He opened the door, and Jennifer whined because the silver so close to her body hurt. She moaned, and in a quick burst of courage, the sword went between the shoulders and the head, the head rolling out of the car, onto the pavement. Amy screamed in agony, busting out of the car and ready to kill Mikael. She was delirious from her daughter’s death and the cold reality of what was happening. Mikael took aim and with a single swing, she was relieved from her agony. He placed all remains in the car, and with the emergency gas, doused the interior. He used the last emergency match to light the fire.
He began to walk back towards town, hoping to gather his things and leave town before anyone could catch him. He knew what he did was right, but he also knew the police wouldn’t exactly understand. Suddenly, he heard a howl. Right then and there, Mikael vowed to kill every werewolf he saw. As he was walking, one jumped him from behind. Mikael rolled, keeping the sword in his right hand. He lunged, the werewolf easily dodged. He swung, the werewolf easily dodged. Soon, Mikael was tired. That’s when the werewolf struck. He lunged, claws stretching out, ready to puncture. Mikael feigned left, catching the werewolf right at the base of the neck, the werewolf’s momentum effectively killing itself.
After another mile or so, a man dressed in a suit walked out of the trees. Mikael held the sword between them, asking what the man wanted. The man in a suit explained the Regiment to Mikael. As soon as Mikael heard that it was all a test, he lashed out. The man almost died, but somehow escaped on the edge of his life. That night, a part of Mikael died. His old family was dead, his new family was dead, and all due to werewolves. In his head, the Regiment was at fault. They were testing him when his new family died, and they may have been testing his father when his old family died. Even if they hadn't, if they had done their job to protect the innocent, his family wouldn't be gone.
Mikael made it back, but rather than going from town to town doing odd jobs again, Mikael started training. He found a dojo, trained with his sword, learned the art of the knife, and went and bought a .44 Anaconda, just in case.
The unsolved mysteries linked to Mikael Mikkonen began to pile up. Within two years, he had been interrogated multiple times. Two days after Mikael turned thirty-two, a policeman came to his door. Mikael was placed under arrest for the murders of Henrikki and Palka Mikkonen as well as Amy and Jennifer Mikkonen. Mikael punched the officer. Mikael was then tasered and brought in.
The first man to visit Mikael was the man from the woods. He told Mikael he could make the charges stick, or he could make the charges go away. Mikael begrudgingly decided to join the Regiment. While he may have had issues with the operation of the Regiment, life in prison wouldn't solve anything. At the very least, he may get to kill a werewolf or two.
Character Name - Mikael Mikkonen
Race - Human
Gender - Male
Age - 32
Appearance -
Height - 6’
Weight - 200 Lbs
Clothing - Normally dark, mostly black clothing. Often wears a floor length coat if weather permits. In heat, he strips down to a pair of dark jeans and a black cut off shirt.
Weapons - .44 Anaconda, Combat knife, Katana
Speciality - Close combat, deception, knowledge
Skills - Seemingly photographic memory, swordsmanship, proficient liar
Flaws - Jaded, doesn’t know how to work in teams, loner, doesn’t trust others, especially non-humans, near-addiction to energy drinks, one drink turns into thirteen much too easily
Fears - Losing someone close to him. being turned, losing his humanity or his mind
Personality - Comes off as a real jackass. In short, he’s a jerk who ostracizes others. He also comes across as cocky, but his foundation is glass. He handles stress poorly, often resulting in binge drinking and bar fights. He cries himself to sleep most nights. He is severely broken.
Backstory - The story of Mikael Mikkonen begins with another. Henrikki Mikkonen was an odd child, and then an odd man. As a young boy, Henrikki loved fairy tales and clung to every word of every tale he could track down, although for the young boy, those tales really only consisted of the stories his mummo (grandmother) told him when he spent his days there. Henrikki’s mummo was a superstitious old woman and gladly passed on the Finnish fairy tales to her grandson, even against his parents wishes. Henrikki’s parents were both devout Christians and felt the stories would only pollute their son’s mind. They were right. As Henrikki grew older, instead of growing out of these outlandish tales, his interest and fascination only seemed to grow. He badgered his mummo for more details, for the truth. Everyone seemed to think he had gone mad, and maybe he had. That was until he met Palka. Suddenly Henrikki was a new man. He was responsible, straight-forward, right-minded, and hard-working. His parents couldn’t have been more proud. Within a year, Henrikki and Palka were wed in a large church that, up until the wedding, Henrikki refused to enter.
Shortly after the wedding, Henrikki began to act strangely. While he hadn’t visibly reverted to his obsession with the mythical, something was amiss. When Palka questioned him about it, he would brush the question off, as if nothing were wrong. He began to become more and more distressed. One day, Henrikki burst in the door, a feverish look upon his face. Palka, with the swelling belly of a soon-to-be mother, was quite frightened, repeatedly asking Henrikki to explain why he was home from work so early and what the problem was. Henrikki ignored her and rushed to the spare bedroom, the baby’s bedroom. He ripped a hidden panel off the wall, revealing a large stack of ancient looking tomes. He ripped out of the room, returning almost immediately, but with a trunk in tow. He filled the trunk with the old, but not dusty, tomes.
Henrikki looked up at his loving wife, fear folding her face in tight wrinkles. With an odd gleam in his eyes, he began to tell her to pack. She quieted a sob, expecting the worst. Her husband had to be a criminal, or worse. He didn’t seem intent on explaining himself, but the force in his voice encouraged her to listen to his words. Within the hour, most of the small family’s material possessions were packed in bags and trunks. Henrikki carried his trunk as though it were a feather, most likely due to the adrenaline pumping through his veins. They seemed to fly as their automobile sped towards the port. They rushed onto the nearest ferry, and as the boat undocked and started drifting out of the port, a pack of outrageously large wolves flew out of the trees at the edge of the small town. They were safe.
While they weren’t dead, there were many, many issues still unsolved. Henrikki still hadn’t explained what was going on to his wife, and seemed willing to do anything but. They also didn’t know what ferry they were on or where they were headed. That night, as soon as Henrikki’s chest started to sink and rise in the slow rhythm of sleep, Palka silently stood from the small bed and crept to the ancient trunk. She almost gasped as she opened the chest, catching herself at the last moment. The tomes that her husband had so frantically protected were books on the occult. Books about vampires, werewolves, zombies, and the like. She was taken aback, totally unprepared for what she was seeing. She had never known this side of her husband, but yet she was pregnant with his child. She needed to get some air.
Her scream was muffled by a hand. Instinctively, she attempted to wrench herself free of her assailant, although his grip was incredibly strong. Suddenly, she heard the comforting voice of her husband’s voice whispered in her ear. He told her not to move, not to scream, and that it was dangerous for her to go alone, at least until they landed at their mystery destination. The next time she asked him, he simply told her it would all come in good time.
One morning, as the young couple woke from a deep slumber, Henrikki realized the ship was slowing. He became frantic, wondering if they had found him. He rushed out of bed and flew out to the deck. The rising sun cast his shadow down upon the water as a smile crept across his face. The Statue of Liberty was growing taller by the minute. It wasn’t long until Palka joined her husband.
Henrikki thought he, as well as his family, was now safe. If only he were right.
Flash forward.
Mikael grew up feeling like two people. There was the person he was in public. That was the cheerful, friendly Mikael. That Mikael was popular, good at sports, well liked, smart, and well behaved. Teachers raved about how mature and well rounded he was while his parents silently boasted. Then there was the other Mikael. This Mikael was probably closer to the truth, but he wouldn’t have been well liked. He was strategic, cunning, cutthroat, and, most importantly, weird. He had been taking secret lessons with his dad, and while he only half believed the crazy stories Henrikki told him, he was obsessed. He spent time at the local library reading as many books as possible, trying to round out an idea of the occult. He had already read all of his father’s tomes at least once, if not twice. While Henrikki had told Mikael to live the split life, Mikael did reveal his inner side to another, once. That’s when disaster struck.
Mikael was walking home when he first realized something was off. He started running, sprinting really, as soon as he saw the door from down the block. Well, what was left of the door anyway. It had been kicked in, probably by a thief of some kind. He walked into his home to the smell of blood and burnt flesh. There was a trail that led to the family room, the room where Henrikki had always kept a sword. In fact, as he had always told Mikael, the sword was made of silver, to protect from werewolves. On the floor was Palka, covered in blood, a large chunk was missing from one of her legs, and she appeared to be unconscious from blood loss. Henrikki, on the other hand, was slumped against the fireplace. Bite marks covered his arms. The sword was sticking out of the wall as if someone had thrown it. Seeing Mikael, Henrikki rushed to call him over, and in a weak voice explained what happened. Werewolves had attacked, although Henrikki wasn’t sure why. He had fought them off the best he could, cutting a chunk out of one’s shoulder before the sword was knocked away and he was swarmed. Palka was bitten once, just enough to turn her, but Henrikki had been bitten as punishment. Henrikki told Mikael what he had to do. Neither Henrikki nor Palka wanted to live as a beast, filled with uncontrollable, dangerous urges. Mikael had to get the sword and decapitate both of his parents. Mikale immediately shut down. He couldn’t be expected to do something like that; he was only sixteen. Then his mother started to wake up. Without even thinking, Mikael pulled the sword from the wall and with one clean slash, his mother’s head rolled. Henrikki begged to be killed, as he couldn’t do it himself, but Mikael was in a terrible state. He had just killed his mother, granted it was out of mercy, but he was in no shape to do anything else. Finally, Henrikki began to make a noise. It was a whimper mixed with pleading grunts. Mikael swallowed, and with a tear, mercifully murdered his father. Mikael was about to go pack as he would be leaving that night, when he saw his mother’s disembodied head. The eyes were open. The last thing his confused and dazed mother saw was her son swinging a sword at her neck. He collapsed, waking up the next day in tears and vomit.
Mikael cleaned up, packed up all his belongings, and found his father’s old wooden chest. He went to the secret room, filled the chest with the books, loaded all his belongings into the family, his car, and left his life behind.
Mikael traveled, doing odd jobs for food and a shower, spending large amounts of time at different local libraries, attempting to learn as much as he could about the creatures that ruined his life. He still had nightmares. Every night. Even though he slept with the silver sword stashed under the back seat of the car. Every shadow was one of the fiends, every noise was a growl or a claw on the pavement. He didn’t sleep for days at a time, spending all of his time reading, avoiding the nightmares.
It didn’t take long and Mikael was running from his fears in other ways. He chased skirts, often hitting his mark. He drank. Never beer, mainly whiskey. He’d drink until he couldn’t think, and then he’d drink some more. He’d had to clean the floor of his car multiple times. One night, the bartender took his keys. Without a place to stay, Mikael started hitting on everything that moved. One girl finally took pity on him, played along, and told him to come home with her. Once they got there, she pushed him on the couch, went in her room, and locked the door. He realized what was going on, but before he could attempt anything, he passed out. The next morning, rather mid-afternoon, Mikael awoke to a bottle of water and an aspirin. The woman sat next to him and tried to shake his hand. He almost threw up on her, only stopping just in time. She introduced herself as Amy and asked him if he wanted to rent her spare bedroom. Her roommate had just moved out, leaving her with the full rent. He took it in a heartbeat. He hadn’t had a roof over his head in years. He moved in that day and started looking for a job. He finally found a job at a local factory. It wasn’t much, but it would pay the bills.
Little by little, Amy tamed Mikael. First, the drinking slowed. Then it stopped. Soon he was a supervisor at the factory. Shortly after that, the two of them started sleeping in one room. Within a year, they were Mr. and Mrs. Mikkonen. Mikael began living another double life. He had never shown Amy what was in the chest, and never planned to. At the age of twenty-four, Amy gave Mikael a daughter named Jennifer.
Six years later, The Mikkonen family was driving through a wooded area during the night. The plan was to take a vacation across the country. Suddenly, Mikael slammed on the brakes. Something about the size of a bear was laying on the highway. It stood, and only then did Mikael realize what was happening. Before he could get the car moving, one werewolf from each side hit the car. Jennifer screamed as a claw burst through the window closest to her. Mikael was in the back seat before the paw was fully in the window. He still didn’t go anywhere without his father’s sword. He grabbed it from under the seat and swung wildly. He slashed the arm of the beast, and it howled as its arm shot out of the car. Then he heard his wife’s cries for help. He poked the sword in the front seat and into the werewolf’s nose, just before Amy was bitten. In his recklessness, he accidentally sliced Amy’s cheek. Cursing his clumsiness, he sprang out of the car, protecting his family from himself and being ready to chase down the werewolves. He heard one run through the bushes behind him, and as it charged, Mikael pushed the sword forward, skewering the bloodthirsty werewolf. That’s when he heard the screams. His two angels, the only two women in his life that mattered, screamed in unison. Not a frightened scream, but a scream of pain. As he ran back to the car, the remaining werewolves scattered, sensing the silver in the air. He looked in to see both his wife and his daughter had bite marks on their arms. He screamed in anguish, and only seemed to wail harder when his daughter begged him to tell her what was wrong. He couldn’t do it. There was no way he could kill the only two people that made his life worth living. He wouldn’t do it. Then Amy called him over. She explained that she had found his books, read through them all, and knew what was going to happen. She begged for Mikael to kill her and their daughter. Mikael knew they were right and they’d be happier dead than as a long-living reminder that they were attacked by werewolves, that their life was taken away in the seconds it took for those long, sharp teeth to sink into the soft, tender flesh. Mikael walked around the car to where his daughter was sitting. He opened the door, and Jennifer whined because the silver so close to her body hurt. She moaned, and in a quick burst of courage, the sword went between the shoulders and the head, the head rolling out of the car, onto the pavement. Amy screamed in agony, busting out of the car and ready to kill Mikael. She was delirious from her daughter’s death and the cold reality of what was happening. Mikael took aim and with a single swing, she was relieved from her agony. He placed all remains in the car, and with the emergency gas, doused the interior. He used the last emergency match to light the fire.
He began to walk back towards town, hoping to gather his things and leave town before anyone could catch him. He knew what he did was right, but he also knew the police wouldn’t exactly understand. Suddenly, he heard a howl. Right then and there, Mikael vowed to kill every werewolf he saw. As he was walking, one jumped him from behind. Mikael rolled, keeping the sword in his right hand. He lunged, the werewolf easily dodged. He swung, the werewolf easily dodged. Soon, Mikael was tired. That’s when the werewolf struck. He lunged, claws stretching out, ready to puncture. Mikael feigned left, catching the werewolf right at the base of the neck, the werewolf’s momentum effectively killing itself.
After another mile or so, a man dressed in a suit walked out of the trees. Mikael held the sword between them, asking what the man wanted. The man in a suit explained the Regiment to Mikael. As soon as Mikael heard that it was all a test, he lashed out. The man almost died, but somehow escaped on the edge of his life. That night, a part of Mikael died. His old family was dead, his new family was dead, and all due to werewolves. In his head, the Regiment was at fault. They were testing him when his new family died, and they may have been testing his father when his old family died. Even if they hadn't, if they had done their job to protect the innocent, his family wouldn't be gone.
Mikael made it back, but rather than going from town to town doing odd jobs again, Mikael started training. He found a dojo, trained with his sword, learned the art of the knife, and went and bought a .44 Anaconda, just in case.
The unsolved mysteries linked to Mikael Mikkonen began to pile up. Within two years, he had been interrogated multiple times. Two days after Mikael turned thirty-two, a policeman came to his door. Mikael was placed under arrest for the murders of Henrikki and Palka Mikkonen as well as Amy and Jennifer Mikkonen. Mikael punched the officer. Mikael was then tasered and brought in.
The first man to visit Mikael was the man from the woods. He told Mikael he could make the charges stick, or he could make the charges go away. Mikael begrudgingly decided to join the Regiment. While he may have had issues with the operation of the Regiment, life in prison wouldn't solve anything. At the very least, he may get to kill a werewolf or two.