Name: Fuchsia
Age: 12
Gender: Male
Race: Demon
Random descriptors: Infernal child.

Character Tier: Intermediate

Character Type: Critical Character- Tournament Participant.

Physical Description: Fuchsia has semi-short black curly hair with two spike-like shapes shooting backwards, one on each side, like small horns. He has pale skin, sharpened teeth, and would appear somewhat weak and harmless, if not for his over-sized equipment. He stands roughly 4'9 feet tall, and weighs 70 pounds. He wears a black unbuttoned shirt, a pink t-shirt with a white smiling skull symbol on it's chest underneath, black pants, and black combat boots. His arms reaches down to his ankles, as a pair of huge iron gauntlets are worn on his hands.

Personality Description: He is a very cheerful personality, and likes to look on the bright side of things. The world is a wonderful place, and everything is all butterflies and rainbows. As far as he is concerned, getting upset about things is pointless. A waste of effort, if you will. What is done, is done. That's what he just can not understand about other people. They keep getting sad, and angry. Why is it so hard for them to see things the way he does? Just because he decapitated their loved ones? Sheesh. Some people should really learn to let go. Fuchsia is incredibly cruel and violent when it comes to battle, and while he maintains a cheery output, he does not allow for anything to stand between him and an orgy of slaughter and death.

Skills, powers and abilities:

- Strength: One of his two strongest qualities. His body is far stronger than his small, timid stature would suggest, able to tear cars apart like they were made of cardboard, and wield his own massive weapons with little to no effort whatsoever. A direct hit would leave more than a bruise. He lacks formal close combat training, but makes up for it with sheer ferocity.

- Speed: His other good quality. Due to his small frame and poor close combat defense, he relies a lot on speed and mobility to keep himself alive. He dances like a butterfly, and stings like a anti-tank missile to the face. While his running speed is somewhat poor, compared to his peers, only being able to run at up to 45mph, he is able to ignore gravity when it comes to solid surfaces due to his unnatural fiendish nature. He can walk, run, sit, sleep, and stand still on walls, upside down on ceilings, and whatever else that would be able to hold his weight. 

- Durability: He is much less of a "tank" than most of his demonic kin. Much due to his young age. Most bullets will still bounce off him like he was metal, but anything beyond that is bound to leave quite a mark. 

- Tail; His devil tail is as strong as any of his limbs, though it appears thin and harmless.

Character Equipment: 

Hellzooka (Tier 5): A double-sized, 3 meter long, black rusted bazooka. Covering it's tip, a horned skull with jagged teeth, it's mouth wide open. On most of the tube itself, is an extreme amount of large metallic spikes pointing out all along the massive weapon from top to bottom. While dormant, the rocket launcher looks like someone went a little bit crazy when they decided to accessorize it. Once activated however, when willed so by it's owner, the skull adorning it's tip comes alive, fiery flames glowing in it's eyes, screaming insults every time it shoots. The weapon is semi-automatic, and has no need for the lengthy process of reloading, as it's summons it's ammunition directly from the bowels of hell. It literally fires live rockets, inhabited by the souls of murderers and the likes, their faces attached to the front; screaming all the way from the moment they leave the barrel, until they blow up at will when they get close enough to a victim. They use their eyes to determine such, and if they're unable to see someone, they will not detonate themselves until they hit something. These rockets travel in straight paths, and can do so for several miles before fuzzing out. The bazooka is capable of charging, and if it does, it will spend (x) amount of rounds to locate stronger souls, where (x) determines the strength of the next shot. The weapon can also be used as a spiked club, should it be necessary, a handle mounted at it's rear with a trigger located at it's grip. It is more than durable enough to clash with other weapons sharing it's tier without breaking. 

Bigfists (tier 3): A pair of huge metallic gauntlets that are three times bigger than normal. They fit their wearer perfectly, and allows him to use the gauntlets as if his hands was actually that big. This, in turn, gives him access to weaponry he would normally never be able to wield. Like the Hellzooka. The gauntlets have no other special qualities, except for great durability, and an extreme lack of heat conductivity.

Skullnades (tier 3): Two separate human-looking skulls that, once armed by speaking their true names three times, will open their mouths and attach themselves to whatever they're thrown at. or currently next to. They will then detonate themselves upon someone saying "Hail Mary" loud enough for them to hear, or if hit by enough physical force to shatter their fragile skulls.

Slaughter (Tier 4): This odd-looking 18 inch sacrificial dagger has a very specific purpose. To kill, maim, injure, and otherwise physically impair others. For every hit that sheds blood landed by this blade, it's owner regains health equal to the damage done. For reasons unknown, this only works on targets of power almost equal to, or above the wielder.

Character History: Fuchsia is a lieutenant in the Wicked man's army. That is to say, Fuchsia lives in hell, has done so for the past twelve years of his unlife. Born and raised. In hell, on the second layer to be exact, there used to be a ruler. Well, of course, there's always a ruler, but the thing about this one, is that he's no longer around. He didn't die, he just left. Got chased off by this other man, a wicked man. That's what they called him. Some human, or at least he used to be. Fuchsia really wasn't all that into it, he was only six years old at the time, so. At any rate, the Wicked man was now the ruler of the third layer, and he had set his gaze upon.. everything else. So he drafted everyone he could, held a long and tedious "I want you" propaganda campaign, and successfully turned two thirds of the population into soldiers. Fuchsia included.

So the war began, it was nothing special. Honestly, it was incredibly disappointing. Hell loved conflict. It thrived on it, grew on it. This, however, was much less of a long-driven conflict, and a lot more you're-all-dead-thanks-for-your-layer-assholes. The bards wept. No epic tales could be spun from a war so one-sided. Fuchsia, however, was not too concerned with whether or not the war itself was going to last long or not. Someone, somewhere, had fucked up, and forgot to tell him which side he was on. Fucking demons. They all look the same. His kill count went through the roof, something that would, to beings observing the situation from elsewhere, make it appear as if he was the mightiest warrior in hell. While in truth, he was far from it. The nature of the war had spread out the rest of the army's kill count so thin that in comparison, he was a god damn deity.