[center][img]https://41.media.tumblr.com/6ed116e86d176f386db03c8785c3e757/tumblr_ng470be7cm1st27xbo1_1280.jpg[/img]

[b]Name:[/b] Jason D. Hunter 

[b]Alias:[/b] Crisis

[b]Age:[/b] 17

[b]Gender:[/b] Male  

[b]Powers:[/b] [url=http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Biomass_Manipulation]Biomass Manipulation[/url]

[b]Abilities:[/b] Combat. Literally. Due to the people he has absorbed, he has retained their knowledge and skills, although he has to train the skills to keep them up. This goes for sword, firearm, and martial art skills as well. However, when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, he literally just stays on the opponent with tremor-inducing, stone-splitting punches and kicks before brutally destroying their bodies and consuming their husks.

[b]Weaknesses:[/b] Large, heavy pressures of water can temporarily stop his shifting. Other than this, while his body is generally stronger than humans, brutally ripping a blade through his eyeball and destroying his brain will work [i]wonders[/i].

[b]Equipment:[/b] His body.

[b]History:[/b] [i]His life had never been that great, honestly. 
Son of an abusive mother and father...
Hated sibling of three...
Born, over-all, into a crappy life, in an even worse 
neighborhood. The only good thing about his life
was videogames. He could sit down, after a...
round of 'friend roughhousing' with his father,
and a...'mom to son argument' with his mother,
and simply just...play until his heart's content.
Of course, it couldn't have been too healthy.
He knew that he was a freak...a weirdo.
He wanted to hurt his parents...his siblings.
Everyone that bullied him in school for being
'creepy' and 'dark'. Was it his fault that he could
do these...things? That he was faster than a 
motorcycle at the age of 3? That he could lift
up the teacher's desk and throw it in rage
when they called him mean names? It wasn't...
it wasn't his fault. Was...was it his fault when 
he accidentally cracked the class's pet...and
absorbed it into his body? The blood...bones...
innards, as his chest opened up into a maw of flesh and 
organic material, and the butchered form o- he couldn't
bare to think of it; his four year old mind couldn't
comprehend it. he had to mature from a young age.
He was sociopathic, quiet, dangerous.
The ones parents didn't want their children 
to turn out like. Cautious.
Suspicious.

Then...it finally happened. He snapped.
His father had been talking down to him.
"You worthless piece of monster crap!" the man would yell. 
Alchohol was on his breath, along with a smell
that he didn't want to think about. His five-year old
mind simmered, and he just tried...tried to 
lay down and take the stompings. it didn't hurt...but
the sharp pieces of metal on the bottom of his boots did.
that's how it was all the time. his father would stomp and punch
him with sharp metal, since his body took punches and lashes
without bruises or cuts. it hurt...hurt so much. he wanted it to 
stop. he snapped.
he grabbed the boot before it could stomp his face in again...
and twisted. The ankle bone snapped like chalk.
like mrs. moore's cat.
he tore it off of the leg, blood streaming through the air. 
stood up, the foot and boot absorbing into his tendril-writhing
chest. a punch to his father's beer belly - the fist went through flesh
and bone. tendrils blasting from his fist, hellish, writhing, and spiky tendrils.
piercing vital organs, flesh...body. his father being absorbed into his own
form. memories, not his own.
Screams...not his own. 
Hours passed by. when he woke up, 
he was staring into the shocked faces of
doctors. the rest is history.
people only know that he showed up in a 
different state altogether, taking on
life as a vigilante that...permanently 
ended and consumed anyone that took
his ire. they called him...
Crisis.[/i]

[b]Personality:[/b] Fearless. Nothing can hurt him now. Cold. He wouldn't take the pain. Determined. No one would stop him from living. Apathetic. No one would make him cry. Cunning. You had to be, to survive the things he did. Violent; no one enjoys tearing apart criminals as much as Jason. Sarcasm became a way to cope, and despite his outward exterior, there was still some sort of warmth in his body...if you could find it and pull it out. He is quite blunt and will simply slam his foot into anyone or anything if they anger him to the point of violence...and a kick from him is generally life-taking.

[b]Family:[/b] Xavier Hunter - Father, and deceased. Mother and siblings are unknown.

[b]Friends:[/b] None.  

[b]Crush/Relationship:[/b] None.

[b]Other:[/b] Not much. He doesn't really like heroes, despite becoming one himself.[/center]