[b]Name:[/b] Park Han Gyul; "Hank Park"

[b]Appearance:[/b]
[IMG]http://s3.zerochan.net/Orihara.Izaya.240.432662.jpg[/IMG]

[b]Age:[/b] 25 (Birthday: February 3rd, 2030)

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Power:[/b] Super Senses, to be explained further

[b]Bio:[/b] Hank was born and raised in midtown Manhattan, and lived in a small apartment off of West 32nd with his parents and six siblings. His dad worked as a jeweler, and his mother was a homemaker. Growing up, Hank's school grades wobbled between average and poor, and he often skipped classes to hang around with friends. His parents called them bad influences, which might or might not have been true. Whatever the case, Hank wound up getting friendly with the local gangpae, the Korean mob in NYC.

Hank's chronically poor attendance resulted in his expulsion from school, and his involvement with the gangpae grew steadily. They had him working in loan sharking and extortion, as one of a handful of guys that stood behind whoever was doing the talking, as muscle. Eventually they found he had a knack for reading people, and put that to use gambling. The gang had him launder money through casinos, changing large sums of dirty money for chips; playing in high stakes games for a short while, and then cashing out the same sum as 'winnings'. He didn't need to win, he just needed to waste a bit of time and make sure he didn't lose much. He even made a tidy profit wagering with money that wasn't his, on more than one occasion. Some people didn't like that, and he got his arm broken once for his troubles.

What Hank didn't share with anyone was just [i]how[/i] he was reading people. He'd read the news headlines about people with abilities, how they were a danger to humanity, how they should be reported, detained, etc. If that weren't enough to convince him to keep his mouth shut about the changes he was experiencing, nothing would be. He wasn't normal, that was for damn sure. He'd always had good eyes and ears, ever since he was a kid, but it had gotten way out of hand. He could hear a person's [i]heartbeat[/i] from across the room, [i]see[/i] the tide of blood wax and wane through the capillaries of their face, [i]smell[/i] the hormones in their nervous sweat screaming that they were bluffing, and as time went on he got even better at it. The way he perceived the world became fundamentally different from the people around him, and it was incredibly alienating. All he could do was keep his mouth shut.

As he his senses honed, he got into the sale of information, and he was damned good at it. It made him more money than the gangpae ever did, and served as a wedge that was driven between them. He maintained connections with them, but they became more tenuous by the day as he grew into an independent broker. He paid his respects and his dues, but as far as he was concerned he didn't need their work any more. He was [i]successful[/i]. He knew what was going on, knew who'd pay to find out, and most importantly knew what was off limits.

When the power boom got too big and the Big Apple had martial law dropped on it, things got rough. Is that an understatement? Yeah, it kinda is. Didn't hurt his business much, though. The shit hits the fan, and the underbelly of society thrives; pretty much the usual progression of events.

[b]Personality:[/b] WIP

[b]Other:[/b] Hank has a black belt in Hapkido, a kevlar vest, a tactical pump shotgun, a jackknife, an ass-load of money, a fancy apartment, and a sportbike (i.e. crotchrocket) motorcycle. Under normal circumstances he does not wear the vest or carry the shotgun.