[hider=Wrath][center][url=https://fontmeme.com/typewriter-fonts/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180106/da20bd19aa464a66fa13543aa8e18180.png[/img][/url][/center]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/688wFyC.png[/img][/center]
[center][url=https://fontmeme.com/typewriter-fonts/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180106/d98d273c414c5cfba3c07e7a906d1df3.png[/img][/url][/center]
[color=3A5717][b]NAME:[/b][/color]
[indent]Maximilian Vert[/indent]
[color=3A5717][b]ALIAS’:[/b][/color]
[indent]Max, Boss, Mr. Hyde[/indent]
[color=3A5717][b]AGE:[/b][/color]
[indent]Appears to be in his early-mid 30’s[/indent]
[color=3A5717][b]SIN:[/b][/color]
[indent]Wrath[/indent]
[color=3A5717][b]HEIGHT:[/b][/color]
[indent]5’09” - 175cm[/indent]
[color=3A5717][b]WEIGHT:[/b][/color]
[indent]163lbs. - 74kg[/indent]
[color=3A5717][b]HAIR COLOR:[/b][/color]
[indent]Dark Brown[/indent]
[color=3A5717][b]EYE COLOR:[/b][/color]
[indent]Green[/indent]
[color=3A5717][b]SEX:[/b][/color]
[indent]Male[/indent]
[center][url=https://fontmeme.com/typewriter-fonts/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180106/921967171e94897df15c9634d3222c70.png[/img][/url][/center]
[color=3A5717][b]WRITTEN APPEARANCE:[/b][/color]
[indent]Max, as he is called in casual conversation by those who dare, isn’t a tall or barrel-chested man as one would expect from the embodiment of Wrath.  Instead, he’s a man of average height and muscled build, rough in appearance with a face that’s seen it’s fair share of losses.  His hair is nearly always windswept, dark brown locks locked in place by sweat and grease, while his cheeks bear a set of sideburns kept carefully trimmed.  He dresses well, most often in black vests and pants, rounded out by a fitting, dark green coat.  He commonly wears a pair of black leather gloves as well.[/indent]
[color=3A5717][b]BRAND APPEARANCE:[/b][/color]
[indent]Maximilian’s brand resembles a crowned crow, and it is placed squarely between his shoulder blades.  He believes it stands for the wrathful and predatory nature of a monarchy.[/indent]
[color=3A5717][b]PERSONALITY:[/b][/color]
[indent]Maximilian Vert enjoys nothing more than subjugating those beneath him, whether it be a human or a rat, he doesn’t care.  His cruel nature is hidden behind a managerial facade, however, as the developing power of steam requires many hands to keep it from dying out early.  He enjoys fueling discontent among his workers, giving them reasons to be outraged at each other, almost like he’s fanning the flames of a wildfire.

The embodiment of Wrath is a careful sort, never too caught up in his own desires to put himself at risk, but always unable to resist the temptation of flexing his authority.  He is, however, quick to anger and more than likely the first to throw a punch in any situation.[/indent]

[color=3A5717][b]BACKGROUND:[/b][/color]
[indent][color=3A5717]”I’ve followed every whisper and stepped on anyone in my path to find out what the hell happened, and still NOTHING ten years later!  Not even a twinge of my memories surfacing!”[/color][/indent]

[color=3A5717][b]CURRENT STORY:[/b][/color]
[indent]Maximilian had awoken on the streets of a city just starting to integrate steam power with nothing but the clothes on his back and the faint memory of his own name.  Beyond that, he knew nothing of his previous life.  A few short days wandering the neighborhoods rewarded him with bits of his personality coming back and a small number of scraps he had won without much thought.  From one such victim of a thrashing, he heard of a number of underground boxing rings spread throughout the city, and the logical step of the amnesiac was to attend one to simply test the waters.

Nearly a year later, he had earned enough money and cracked enough skulls to establish himself as an iron-fisted individual that could put anyone in their place.  Before he knew it, a textile factory swept him up and put him in charge of the entire building, with a simple order to keep the workers in line.  To this day, the mere mention of his name is enough to snap the laziest man into overdrive.  Recently, Max has decided to leave the city for awhile to find out more about the massive blank spot in his memory.  In his place, he left a friend named Digby in charge of the factory.[/indent]

[color=3A5717][b]WEAPON:[/b][/color]
[indent][color=3A5717][b]The Brass Hands[/b][/color] are a pair of brass knuckles wielded by Maximilian, both simple in design and purpose.  Four spiked rings are linked together that fit their owner’s hands like a glove, all held together by a stopper that fits in the palm.  They appear to have been created from a solid piece of brass.  They never seem to wear, no matter how much abuse they’re put through.[/indent]

[color=3A5717][b]ABILITY:[/b][/color]
[indent][color=3A5717][b]Moxie[/b][/color] is the trademark of Maximilian, allowing him to power through the toughest opponents given he can land a hit.  With every successful strike, he hits harder and swings faster, making him a massive threat as long as he can get up to speed.  As a visual side effect, the veins in his arms pulse with his heartrate, which has led him to his current coat-and-glove combination.[/indent]
[hider=Mr. Hyde on the Floor!]
The massive doors to the factory’s main floor flew open with enough force to threaten the sliders they rested upon, and in came a man in a green coat, mid-rage.  The doors slammed into the ends of their tracks just as he stepped beyond the threshold, the entire atmosphere of the building changing as his footfalls signalled doom for someone.  One of the workers, a younger man, made the mistake of continuing a conversation with nobody.

The man in the green coat snapped his head in the sole direction of a voice, teeth grinding as he stomped towards it.  The young worker, oblivious for whatever reason, turned around just in time to see his boss charging for him.  [color=gray]”Welcome back Mr. Hy- I mea-”[/color]  He was cut off by a hand grabbing his collar and pulling him in.

[color=3A5717]”WHAT did you just call me!?”[/color] he shouted, loud enough for the entire building to be silenced, except the whirring machines.

[color=gray]”I-I called you Mr. Ver-”[/color]  The worker was met with a forceful punch, his head jerking past as the knuckles flew into his cheek.

[color=3A5717]”Don’t lie to a man on which your sorry life depends!  Now, what did you call me?”[/color]  His tone dropped slightly, the question coming across this time as a threat.

[color=gray]”I called you M-Mr. Hyde,”[/color] the employee stammered.  He was then dropped by his boss, who turned around to address everyone else in the factory.

His voice boomed as he called out to them, sounding more like a showman than a dictator.  [color=3A5717]”Boys!  The very name of Maximilian Vert has been slandered to my own face!  And by who?  A new hire with gall!  What do we do to workers that think they can get away with defacing me!?”[/color]  A chorus of cheers echoed back, and a grin split the green-coated man’s face.  [color=3A5717]”That’s right!  We put them in their place!”[/color]

He turned around to the offender and grabbed him by the collar again, this time dragging him out to the center of the floor, an open space of flagstone.  He was tossed to the floor as the cries of a gathering crowd called for him to get on his feet.  Meanwhile Maximilian shed his coat, leaving him in a vest and a pinstriped shirt.  He rolled up the sleeves as he turned around just in time to watch the man get to his feet.

[color=3A5717]”Here’s how this works; you win, and I hand over management of this building to you.  I win, and you get your mouth sewn shut until I decide to rip it open.”[/color]  Both parties squared up for a fight, one confident in his actions and the other shaking like a leaf in the breeze.

To this day, Maximilian Vert is in charge of that textile factory, despite countless similar bets.[/hider][/hider]