[hider="Flamel"]
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[color=8B8386][i]"Flamel"[/i][/color]

[img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/65/3b/fd/653bfd85eb83e8e070ffdab475c540bb--character-concept-character-design.jpg[/img]

[color=8B8386]"Do you ever wonder how much gasoline it would take to cover the entire planet in flames? I'm still working out the logistics."[/color][/center]

[color=CD6889][b]Name:[/b][/color] [color=8B8386]Konstantin Prohászka[/color]

[color=CD6889][b]Nickname:[/b][/color] [color=8B8386]Flamel[/color]

[color=CD6889][b]Age:[/b][/color] [color=8B8386]22[/color]


[hider=Behind the Mask]
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[color=8B8386][i]Konstantin stands at five foot nine, on the shorter side for males, but not egregiously short. He’s a skinny fellow with a bit of tone to his body, but no significant muscle buildup.[/i][/color][/center]
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[color=CD6889][b]Personality:[/b][/color]
[indent][color=CD6889][b]Ⅰ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Morbid-[/b] [i]Corpses and carnage, the thin red line that tails behind a carefully guided knife, crimson spreads over blank canvases. It’s all so… intoxicating.[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅱ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Anxious-[/b] [i]Everyone frets over some things… some fret over everything.[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅲ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Compassionate-[/b] [i]Friends are rare commodities, real friends are the most precious of gems.[/i][/color][/indent]

[color=CD6889][b]Background:[/b][/color]
[color=8B8386][i]Let me tell you a story… alright? I don’t ever want to do this again. So. Listen closely. Or, read, I suppose. Read closely? Right. So. It was just me and my mother at the start, before the crazy shit started to go down. Not that my whole life wasn’t full of crazy shit from the start. Here’s some context about my relationship with my mother, and my phobia. I’ve got a disease called Porphyria cutanea tarda. Basically, sunlight messes me up. Fucks up my skin. She’d tie me to a post outside during the day, if I did something she wasn’t a fan of. Yeah. I didn’t grow up in a nice part of town. Nowadays, nothing is really that nice, and towns barely exist anymore. Still, nobody looks at me funny when I walk around outside in full protective gear. Nobody tries to tie me to a post. 

Anyways. Despite being a bitch of a mother, Csenge knew how to sell her shit. That shit being drugs. It’s the stupidest thing, I swear. She discovered I had a natural knack for chemistry, a genuine interest in the stuff. So she’s making this fucking kid brew her drugs for her, and then she’s selling them off as her own. That’s so nuts, isn’t it? She didn’t leave me much time to socialize with other people, or have any time to myself. We must always have a surplus available, she said. Always hovering over me. Watching me. 

The drugs I could almost handle. I’m enabling addictions that already exist, I would tell myself. I’m not really hurting anyone that wouldn’t have gotten their fix elsewhere. Plus, it helps keep a roof over my head. But then, it’s not just drugs. She wants me to try making other stuff. Dangerous things. More dangerous than drugs, anyways. Higher risk, she said. Higher reward, she said. Lots of buyers. Turns out I couldn’t help myself, I was too damn good at my job. Now I won’t lie. There was always a tingle of excitement when I was working. Always a feeling of perverse curiosity. I wondered who was going to be using the product, and who would be receiving it. 

I got out of that shithole eventually. Chemistry scholarship. I know, hilarious. I did my best to be a good student, maths and sciences came easy to me, and the rest was simple enough. About three good years at college before everything started going to shit. It all went weird during a break, which was convenient. I started going back to work for Csenge during long breaks after my first year. This time I was getting paid. That was how I developed an addiction to my own shit, and how she kept getting me to come back. 

Well, neither of us were terribly stupid, we knew we had to get to somewhere safe. So I injected her with like five syringes of some homebrew shit she was trying to make while I was away, and made off with whatever I could carry. That’s how I survived, and how she didn’t. 

Different times now. Working with the Devil’s Runners, I mostly stick to cooking up weapons, with a bit of fun stuff on the side. I share, whenever anyone asks. Not that they do. Can’t even say that here, that’d make me a bad dealer. They call me Flamel. Humor isn’t dead yet. Well, these people are alright. I’ve got no idea how I’ve stuck with them this long. No idea how long it’s going to last either.

-Me, Konstantin Prohászka, Flamel[/i][/color]

[color=CD6889][b]Pros:[/b][/color]
[indent][color=CD6889][b]Ⅰ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Swift and Sneaky-[/b] [i]Silent as the grave, fast as the wind[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅱ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Chemist-[/b] [i]Double, double toil and trouble…[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅲ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Pitcher’s Arm-[/b] [i]...something wicked this way comes[/i][/color][/indent]

[color=CD6889][b]Quirks:[/b][/color]
[indent][color=CD6889][b]Ⅰ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Cowardly-[/b] [i]When faced with fight or flight, what would you do? Would you stand your ground? Would you run like hell? Why? For some people it’s a reflex. An instinct. Asking a man like that why he flees is like asking a bird why it flies.[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅱ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Heliophobia-[/b] [i]Some people are afraid of spiders. Some are afraid of vegetables. A flaming ball in the sky is hardly absurd.[/i][/color][/indent] 

[color=CD6889][b]Habits:[/b][/color]
[indent][color=CD6889][b]Ⅰ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Chem Addict-[/b] [i]Addiction isn’t so silent or insidious a killer as you might think. Some would attest that it gives them new life.[/i][/color] 
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅱ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Fidgety-[/b] [i]Twitch. Twitch. Tap tap tap. Shuffle. Shuffle shuffle. Tap tap. Twitch.[/i][/color][/indent]

[color=CD6889][b]Equipment:[/b][/color]
[indent][color=CD6889][b]Ⅰ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Gas Mask-[/b] [i]Everyone has one. Not everyone has one like Konstantin’s. Though nothing special, it’s rigged up to administer trace amounts of a vaporous drug Konstantin dubbed “Breeze” -due to its numbing effects on brain and body, essentially allowing the consumer to “float” for a time- when needed.[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅱ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Flare Gun-[/b] [i]Fires signal flares. Generally useful in dark places.[/i][/color] 
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅲ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]The Fun Bag-[/b] [i]A custom tailored satchel designed to store chemical weaponry. Corrosive acid that can eat through flesh and other delightful features that burn, maim, or otherwise dismember can be found within. Carefully padded in order to avoid any unpleasant accidents. Worn over the shoulder, also clips onto Konstantin’s coat for added security.[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅳ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Switchblade-[/b] [i]Good for surprise attacks and torture.[/i][/color] 
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅴ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Waster’s Rags-[/b] [i]A sturdy, albeit thrown together mess of cloth and leather that offers protection from the elements and mild blunt trauma, and is the only thing allowing Konstantin to be outside during daylight hours. Lots of pockets.[/i][/color][/indent]

[color=CD6889][b]Relationships:[/b][/color] 
[indent][color=CD6889][b]Ⅰ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Loki-[/b] [i]"Pretty girl. Mean, too, like you'd never believe. You should see her in a fight though. More beautiful than anything I'd ever seen. Her, and her art."[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅱ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Speed-[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][i]"It's nice to know that someone out there cares to watch your back. Also, not that I'd ever break my confidentiality rule... but Speed likes to try new things. We hang out sometimes."[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅲ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Newt-[/b] [i]"I like her more than I'd admit. Not terribly respectful, but who else am I going to talk chemistry with? Working on a project with her, it feels nice. Usually. Pretty too."[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅳ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Teach-[/b] [i]"I don't really think he likes me. Most times when he opens his mouth it's criticism. I don't really think I like him either."[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅴ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Boomer-[/b] [i]"While I commend her talent with explosives, she doesn't seem to have a high opinion of me. I can't bring myself to dislike an artist like her though. So I'll admire from the sidelines."[/i][/color] 
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅵ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Deadeye-[/b] [i]"He's nice. Really nice, actually. He doesn't pick on me. He doesn't treat me like I'm any more or less than what I am."[/i][/color]
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅶ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Doc-[/b] [i]"I've got a lot of scars on my body. Some are from him, most are from myself. So no harm done there. You'd think that was a pun, but if I need serious treatment from him I make sure I'm high as a kite. No harm done."[/i][/color] 
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅷ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Vadri-[/b] [i]"It's strange that she doesn't have a nickname. I always thought it was compulsory, and then she showed up. Well, showed up and survived. I should say though, she's nice."[/i][/color] 
[color=CD6889][b]Ⅸ[/b][/color] [color=8B8386][b]Grim-[/b] [i]"I was there when we found him. I'm not saying I want anything bad to happen to him. I'm not. But it would have been okay to leave him where we found him. It would have been okay if I had the chance to carve him a few new wounds. I was going to, you know. I found him first. Then the others found me. Maybe Newt saw my intent. Maybe Loki. Maybe everyone else too. Not him though, thank God."[/i][/color]
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