"Such a fine occasion, in which we find ourselves thusly," Ziz rasped, chittered, and clicked
"Aye." Croix concurred, the remnants of a chuckle still escaping his lips. "The sun smiles down on our crew with the force of an inferno. A good omen, I reckon!"
Truthfully, part of Croix was quite fascinated with the creatures ability to speak, a skill he did not anticipate. Still, it was having a jolly good laugh mere moments ago so he really should have expected it. Croix was fascinated enough by the bug to want to probe it with numerous questions about its lifestyle and more importantly its beliefs, but that would be rude. Even bugmen require some breathing space before discussing such loaded topics as religion, and Croix did not wish to push away a potential new friend so soon, unknown creature or not.
Thankfully before his curiosity could get the best of him, the bugman's attention turned to the massive stone golem who in spite of his size sat and spoke unsure of himself, poor fellow. The missionary turned to see the bugmen's attention shift again as he walked up to and began speaking to the elderly Kaimerian excitedly. What a friendly sort!
"Enough, listen up, because the Queen wishes to see all of you in person. And she will throw you off of Exusia if you annoy her. And by that, I mean literally." "My name is Tisa Iruve and I am the Queen's representative for this quest that she has put out..." She mumbled something underneath her breath but it was next to impossible to discern. She shook her head as she said, "She wants to meet all of you in person to discuss the terms of the deal... which means that you will be teleported up into Exusia. However, when you get up there, we will relinquish any weaponry or any materials you can use to cast a spell until your time there is up."
"Is everyone okay with that? These terms cannot be negotiated."
Croix could not help but smile yet again. This woman, merely doing her job of course, struck him as deeply insecure with the greatness of her emphasis on a name. A threat too! From the Queen herself, no less. It seemed The One Truth was needed here and elsewhere more than he thought! Croix could not help but feel sorry for the redheaded woman however, whom Tisa Iruve seemed to single out in particular for her disdain. Oh well, couldn't be helped. At the very least her request was reasonable enough to Croix, he did wonder how exactly they planned to deal with the Golem should he see fit to start a rampage but such is the way of things if he did.
"More than agreeable, Fair Lady." Croix said, resting the top of his axe against the floor like a cane. He was not overly familiar in speaking to nobility, but he went out of his way to treat all to that standard regardless, hopefully Lady Iruve softened her position at seeing the eagerness of this motley crew. "Shall we proceed? I do not wish to speak for my compatriots, but I'm sure we are all eager to take in Exusia."
He wasn't exactly one for the pontificating and decorum and would rather begin their journey but politeness was important. Besides, it may be interesting to see further the reaches of The One Being and its wisdom.
Croix could not help but let slip a small smile as the sand shifted and crackled under his shoes. The unrelentingly hot sun and humid air would, understandably so, be of extreme discomfort to most but to Croix they were continued reminders he was back home. The wind continued to lash at his face bringing him back to reality, as comfortable as he was in the conditions of The Bone Sea, he was glad his cloak and hat were providing some degree of protection. Home anywhere in Deadwoods was as dangerous as it was welcoming.
Croix knew that, all too well. He looked down at his feet to inspect the dried blood on the tips of his shoes and a splatter on his right shin. Some bandits along the road, they did not seem to be tribe affiliated as far as Croix could tell from their markings but they chose to impede him none the less. Though one did manage to barely escape, Croix was satisfied that they would not plague anyone else on their journey, particularly with one likely to call upon such a high volume of people.
Looking back up, Croix brought up a hand to shield his eyes, so that he could marvel at the twin sights off in the horizon. Exusia, the floating paradise untouched by the daily carnage the Deadwoods was known to provide and Hope's Passage almost directly underneath. Croix could not help but find humour in the vast difference of their scale. While one was an almost ethereal haven whos pleasures were known only to few, under it was a fairly standard, somewhat ramshackle encampment. He continued on, as eager to begin the quest now and the potential it had for his chance to spread The One Truth as he had been when he'd embarked.
The guards at the entrance studied Croix with great scrutiny as he grew closer, already somewhat on edge from the influx of all manner of people hoping to succeed where no one else had for untold riches. Not helping was the bug creature that had burrowed from out of the sand moments earlier. Finally, Croix stood before them, his massive frame almost acting as shade for them from the hot sun. He smiled as warmly as he was capable and placed a hand into the breast pocket of his coat, presenting the guards with his invitation. The two guardsmen continued to stare quietly at Croix, one looking down at the dried flecks of blood on his clothing. After a few tense moments, they stepped to the side and allowed the missionary to enter. Croix tipped his hat to both soldiers as he passed, heading for the most impressive looking tent.
It was unmistakable, the gaze of soldiers upon Croix as he walked by the camp towards the largest tent, but he paid it no mind. He could understand their fears, but to him it was merely an opportunity and he would either succeed or fail and The One Being would find another more worthy warrior to further its message. It was almost like something out of a novel when Croix entered, the melting pot of races and people all waiting side by side, prepared to undertake an impossible task. Croix was not much of a people reader but he took stock of all those that would soon no doubt be his closest companions. Some wiry but fierce looking young women, an angry but large woman who if she was standing may almost be as tall as Croix, a capable warrior mumbling some poem or song to himself, a much smaller young man sat next to the large woman and a considerably fairer looking woman who Croix may have seen as a stoic leader type were she not fumbling over herself about maps albeit in an endearing manner.
Above everyone that Croix took note of however was the armoured buglike creature directly in front of him. He had travelled from place to place quite often but his education was lacking and he found himself unable to call upon what type of creature it was that stood with its back to him. None the less, Croix was snapped from his wonderings when the creature began to chuckle to itself about seemingly nothing, a chuckle that grew slightly louder. Though he wasn't sure exactly of the why, the bug's joy was infectious. Croix felt his lips curl into a smile before he too stifled a laugh. His composure failed him as he took a step forward and laughed alongside the bug creature.
What joy! He could not claim with much certainty if The One Being had planned this motley crew, but Croix already felt himself enjoying the strangeness of their presence.
"Loser no more, Junior." _____________________________________________________ NAME: Lucas Tony Miller _______________________________________________ EPITHET: The Tiger Of Gold City _______________________________________________ AGE: 20 _______________________________________________ PRONOUNS: He/Him _______________________________________________ HEIGHT: 6'0 _______________________________________________ WEIGHT: 170lbs _______________________________________________ NATIONALITY: American _______________________________________________ LIKES: Fighting, Strength, Pro Wrestling, Video Games, Shōnen, The Gruesome Twosome, Hoagies From The Wawa _______________________________________________ DISLIKES: Boredom, Weakness, MAVERICK, Horizon Frontiers, Hoagies From The Gas Station
"Man! Fighting your own kind! Nothin' like it." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
APPEARANCE
"Over a hundred pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
Small, blonde, green eyed and timid Lucas is a far cry from how he was a few short years ago. Having gotten a little taller and bulked up a lot more, even his almost perpetually nervous expression has been replaced by a normally bored frown or bloodthirsty smirk in the heat of battle along with some light stubble on his chin and neck. Lucas even no longer wears the fighting outfits that were several sizes too large for him, instead wearing a pair of jeans, white sneakers and a form fitting white T-shirt. Over it he wears a olive green jacket with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, on the back of the jacket displays a tiger clawing towards the viewer. He still wears his old handwraps but also dons a forehead covering red bandanna, a memento from his time in Japan.
PERSONALITY TRAITS
"I'm in it to win it, baby! Number one, here I come!" ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
Brash: Lucas, justifiably so, is confident in his own abilities by this point but his shy yet endearing personality is mostly gone. Unless it's someone he knows quite well he is very often crass and disrespectful. Sometimes it is to goad people into a fight for his own entertainment, others it is just simply because he seems to lack a filter, not mincing words to even the most threatening of opponent.
Bloodthirsty: Another obvious shift in Lucas' personality is his increased blood knight tenancies. While not to the level of attacking people at random and outright disgusted at the prospect of picking a fight with those who can't defend themselves, he relishes facing strong opponents. Regardless on whether he wins or loses he will eagerly agree to a fight if the challenger interests him, however due to his increase in skill, most regular opponents do not.
Laid back: In spite of what the above two traits may have you believe, Lucas is usually pretty low key, if somewhat bored during normal everyday existence. No matter his mood he usually adopts a "go with the flow" mentality on most things and doesn't see the point in pontificating on the mysteries of life and philosophical debates. What you see with Lucas is usually what you get.
The why of your character. Describe why he's here and what lead them to become a Nomad and gain all their cool-ass skills.
FIGHTING STYLE & ABILITIES
"Ki, technique, demon blood and watchin' wrestling PPV's till the fuckin' tape wore out." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
SKILLS & ABILITIES
"Your little jabs, it's all kid games. When you step to me, your arms are just too short to box with God." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
Training with the Yokos, Lucas is honed in the way of the samurai and adept at a few different martial arts. In contrast to his trainer, Lucas prefers to use his fists and feet instead of a weapon, usually flipping his offence between Krav Maga, Sambo and even adopting some American pro wrestling in his grapples. As evidenced by his choice in styles, Lucas strikes are often brutal yet quick, either to debilitate foes outright or drop them on their head.
Years of being a joke and punching bag has also honed Lucas' tolerance for pain, he always had extraordinary toughness as one thing going for him even when he wasn't a very skilled fighter but now that he has combined it with strong offensive capabilities he makes for an incredibly deadly foe. Being the bastard son of a demon has enabled him to even tap into more mystical and demonic strength beyond his ki but it is not a skill he likes to use or even cultivate, meaning it only sees slight use in his style.
SIGNATURE MOVES
"You're a joke!" ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
■ Written In Blue
"Go!" A much stronger version of Lucas' previously pathetic fireball. Lucas holds a palm up into the air, summoning a crackling ball of blue ki, before clenching his fist and throwing it forward. The ki ball will then quickly home towards the target even if they move. Holding his hand up for longer can summon up to four ki balls to launch. Even when firing one ball however the start up is a few seconds longer than a regular projectile so its use lies more in drawing targets back in or keeping up pressure from a distance.
■ Dragon Drop
"Bang!" A powerful but precise counter elbow strike. Right before an opponent attacks, Lucas can parry or hit through their attack with a bone shattering elbow assault to send them flying, if their attack still lands then damage on Lucas is halved. The timing on this move is strict however so Lucas must be in a relatively calm state of mind to reliably pull it off and naturally the opponent must be in striking distance.
■ Brutal Tiger
"All yours!" A flying kick that hurtles Lucas forward a decent distance which, while also quite damaging, can enable him to close the gap more easily in a fight.
■ Duncan Style Super Piledriver
"Lets get airborne!" Lucas grabs an opponent by their legs and yanks them to the floor then uses his strength to pick them up by the waist, finally jumping into the air and dropping the opponent headfirst onto the floor.
■ Million Crack Fist
"ATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA! BREAKDOWN!" Lucas kicks an opponent's legs out from under them and then knocks them upwards before delivering a series of extremely rapid fire punches at the falling opponent. Lucas claims he actually throws one million strikes in this move but despite its impressive speed it's more likely somewhere in the three hundred range.
■ Ki Chest Caving One Inch Strike
"SCUM!" With a jumping knee to the head, Lucas sends the opponent staggering back and exposing their chest, he then places the fingertips of his open hand against the centre of their chest as his hand shakes and glows a pale blue. Lucas then strikes with a devastating one inch punch that explodes in a wave of blue ki and sends the opponent hurling backwards. If the distance is close enough it can send enemies through walls for extra damage.
■ Essence Of Dash Step
"Woosh~" A basic but extremely useful move that allows Lucas to do up to four short range dashes in any direction, allowing Lucas to reposition, dodge attacks or projectiles or even get behind opponents depending on their posistion.
■ ARMageddon
"Start takin' notes, Junior!" A throw reversal where Lucas delivers a vicious headbutt to the opponent to stun their grip before hooking their arms above their head and delivering a double underhook suplex. While still holding on to one arm after dropping them to the floor Lucas transitions into an armbar for extra damage until voluntarily released or broken out of by the opponent.
■ Psycho Killer
"Give me a FIGHT!" Delivering two strikes to his own face, Lucas lets the thrill of battle spike his adrenaline as his fists glow a fiery blue, his speed and attack is increased for a short duration.
■ Meteor Face Breaking Kick
"Lock and load!" Lucas leaps into the air and hones in on a target on the ground delivering a brutal vertical stomp, Lucas does this three times but can cancel out of it with a backflip if need be.
■ Sex Pistols Suplexes
"You can't escape!" Dashing behind his opponent and wrapping his arms around their waist, Lucas lifts up an opponent regardless of size and drops them on their head with a german suplex, rolling through and delivering three additional suplexes.
■ Unknown Pleasures
"Arm's on fire..." Tapping into his demonic blood, Lucas specials glow purple instead of blue and do increased damage, this action also gives his ki time to recharge while its in use. After use it takes a bit of time before Lucas can use it again.
■ Spirit Aura Crash Technique
"Boom!" A special that can be used during any normal combo or certain special attacks, Lucas body glows a pale blue and his final attack pauses for a second before striking with increased damage and a blast of ki for extra concussive force. While charging Lucas can shrug off most normal attacks but the slight charge time means the move is better used to end combos.
"COME OUT, TIGER!" No more pussy shit. A white and blue tiger charges out from Lucas' chest and begins to sprint around him and the opponent at an incredible speed, creating an impromptu arena ring around the combatants. Opponents attempting to leave the ring will be clawed back into it for massive damage. This also applies to opponents attempting to leave vertically as the tiger will pause its speed to leap incredible distances and drag the opponent back onto the floor, forcing a one on one confrontation. The opponent must already be close enough for it to be counted as part of the arena however, and the above dangers technically also apply to Lucas. Though given... How he is, he's unlikely to try and bail unless knocked into the ring.
■ Devil Tiger
"I'm the one... With power" An ability with great potential, but even its current state isn't to be scoffed at. Lucas, somewhat, embraces the demonic power residing with him. Providing a sharp increase to his speed, range and attack power. While he loses access to most of his ki centred moves he gains a few new ones, including the ability to use his demonic arm for incredible feats of strength which ups the danger of his grabs and throws, as well as faster moving and more volatile purple orbs of energy to fire from his hands. This mode will also slowly heal Lucas over time.
In this mode Lucas, due to still rejecting and refusing to hone his power, has an 'incomplete' look to him. Only his right arm bares much resemblance to the shadowy demonic looks seen by Rosier and Isabella. Beyond this, Lucas eyes glow a deep purple and his hair turns snow white, making him slightly more resemble his biological father and half-brother.
■ Byakko
"[Tiger Roar]" An ultra that can only be utilised while Lucas has DT'd, Lucas forgoes his incomplete devil form to merge his untapped demonic power with his massive amounts of ki, becoming Byakko, a giant white Bengal tiger wreathed in blue flames. In spite of its size, Byakko is deadly fast, able to swipe with its claws and use its teeth almost as fast as a regular opponent can strike. Its size allows it to leap great distances as well as access to a roar ability that can stun most humanoid enemies for a moment if they are close enough.
WEAKNESSES & LIMITS
"Shit, man, legs gonna cramp up." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
Lucas has grown beyond considerably in comparison to how he used to be as a fighter. He is an absolute beast in close combat and his always impressive durability has improved to enable him to take massive amounts of punishments. While he is a, self described, fighting machine, he is by no means flawless. Lucas really struggles against enemies with great mobility, particularly ones who can get airborne, while he has some options to help him out against mostly ground based enemies, he's much more lacking against flying opponents, only able to really use Written In Blue which has a chance for him to be attacked before it can fly, or Face Off which as a special, takes a lot out of him and requires the opponent be close enough for it to entrap them.
Lucas also has issues against ranged opponents. He can tank most of their offence and is fast enough to be on the move and get close but again, he doesn't have too many options to return fire short of catching them.
Lastly on the psychological side, Lucas has access to devastating abilities and has many answers for close range fighters, but some abilities, such as his parries, require a degree of focus and preciseness to pull off reliably, others actively play into his blood knight tendencies and make him even more chaotic in a fight. While this can be good to keep an enemy on their toes it can also trip up Lucas if his eyes are bigger than his stomach and he overshoots, locking himself off from useful techniques until he gets his head back in the game.
- Since returning from Japan, Lucas has been banned from Neogaf a further two times -In spite of his closeness with the Breicen household and his love of Shonen schlocky fighting based anime and shows, Lucas dark secret is that he's not really into the Justice Rider show all that much. But, at this point, he's pretended to be into it for so long that he's too afraid to come clean.
"The changing of this world is not as fearsome as it sounds."
_______________________________
Bearer Of The One Truth Bearer Of The One Truth
"Well met, do you have a moment to discuss the word of The One Being?"
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅
What are you? What are you?
APPEARANCE ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "An irregular Missionary, perhaps. But a Missionary none the less."
At a distance, Croix could easily pass for your stereotypical marauder or general thug. His build is stocky and tall, his face and body littered with scarring, strange markings and the general dirt that comes from travelling the Deadwoods. And his mangy shoulder length silver hair and beard. Yet when closer inspected his dress sense does not evoke that of a brigand, indeed, he is closer to that of a priest.
There are... Liberties taken with his choice of outfit compared to how one would typically picture a priest however. His collar is discoloured and appears homemade and his overall outfit is worn and tattered. Fitted more for Deadwood's hazardous terrain than a sermon. He wears two layers on his body, one being a standard black duster style coat while the other is a torn cloak worn over his shirt and jacket in order to protect against the colder nights and terrain. He also wears a wide brimmed black hat to combat against the sun along with handwraps to offer some degree of protection when needing to hold or tear through the sharp brambles in the heavily forested areas.
CAPABILITIES ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "To spread the word of The One Being. One must be ready to face those unwelcoming to hear it."
In spite of his spirituality, Croix's skillset is much more suited towards his frame than his faith. Able to wield an axe or great-sword like it was a common long-sword without any obvious difficulty, yet his powerful frame does not seem to be justification enough for his raw strength and durability. While normally affable, even jovial, in a fight he seems overcome like a mad beast. Swinging his axe with enough force to split trees and taking punishment that should realistically stop him in his tracks all while seemingly revelling in the bloodshed like a man possessed. It is theorised by some who have seem him in battle that he is possibly part giant or split with another race, whatever he may be, it is not fully human.
In terms of weakness however, Croix is not unstoppable. While he can swing weapons his height without any physical problems on his part, he is still slower on the swing than someone using a much lighter weapon. Furthermore, his style is inherently bestial, meaning that while it often only takes one hit from him to at least force an enemy into panic, his attacks can be blocked, dodged or parried by skilled or fast enough enemies. Lastly, while near everyone is susceptible to magic regardless, Croix seems to be debilitated by it more than most. His strange durability means he can withstand it most of the time but offensive spells that hit or effect him often make him clutch his head in pain or even make him fall to his knee outright while he composes himself.
EQUIPMENT ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "My faith is all I require... And perhaps some wine."
Croix typically travels quite light, typically his largest and most prominent item is his Axe for which he has no scabbard or way to hold it save carrying it rested against his shoulder. Beyond that his notable items are a small coin purse with rarely much currency within and his leatherbound locked tome, the key for which rests on a necklace that Croix never removes. Although often friendly, if offputting, he is extremely protective of his book and will politely but firmly deny any one else the chance to read its contents or even hold it. Though vague, Croix at most insinuates the book is related to his religion and knowledge of The One Being but refuses to go into much detail beyond this.
GOAL ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Endure. And in enduring, grow strong."
Quite simply put, Croix hopes to spread and preach the word of The One Being wherever he travels. Croix is incredibly strong but he is still one man, by journeying the Deadwoods alongside others he is eager to deepen the reach of The One Truth. It is hard to imagine he can do worse anyway, considering he touts a religion no one in the land has heard of and its followers amounts to just himself.
PERSONALITY ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Our fires never stop burning, friend. All we can do is temper them. Through hope... And through faith."
Croix is a conflicting and strange presence to get an accurate reading. Most of the time he is quiet yet polite and even friendly. As though he is existing in an alternate world unseen by the rest of the Deadwoods. He is willing to listen, patient even to the most belligerent of people he finds himself in the company of and of course more than eager to discuss the various faiths of the land as well as espouse on his own.
Yet he is also unsettling, Croix has a strange manner about him, a serenity that often makes him come off as detached and indifferent to the horrors that surround him. His hopefulness, while seemingly genuine, can easily be seen by others as denial or rejection of the current state of things. In his mind, The One Being represents change and the current state of the world is merely its endurance as it forms into something new and is not to be frightened, but this is little comfort to those who consider themselves more in touch with reality. This is all to say nothing about him in combat, where he seems to regress into a monster of man, laughing and hollering with joy at the carnage he unleashes. While he can tell apart friend from foe and even strategize and coordinate his attacks when in enough control of himself, he seems to revel in the suffering inflicted upon his enemies.
While he is a friendly and outright optimistic sort regularly, there is undeniably a darkness to him that lurks underneath his warmth, hope and faith.
"Who I was does not matter. I am something more. Changed."
Croix's birth was unremarkable, a meeting between two members of a Bone Clan no doubt long since claimed by the harsh world. Unwanted by both parents he was birthed and left in the city of Alphos. This, truthfully, should be the were the story ends as life for children in general is not comfortable for most of the Deadwood's denizens yet Croix survived. Adopted, so to speak, by an orphan house in the city. Life was almost idyllic growing up for Croix, his fellow orphans being a motley crew that looked out for one another, something out of a story book really.
As happy stories typically go in the Deadwoods, it ended up taking a dark turn. Around the time Croix became a teenager, his home and friends began to act stranger around him, introducing new phrases and worldviews little by little as he grew older. He learned not to question the wisdom of the people who had so generously took him in yet he could feel himself slipping away piece by piece as information was filled into his head. About the power and superiority of demons and magic over the common man, the inevitability of demonic rule over these ruined lands. By the time Croix was becoming an adult, he was all but indoctrinated into the cult that his caretakers truly were, along with the rest of his brothers and sisters.
The cult consolidated their people and resources into a single purpose, their goal to summon and bind a demon to their will. In spite of being a small ramshackle orphanage in Alphos, the cult had grand ambitions of a crusade, led by demons and their own magical prowress, to slaughter or enslave the denizens of the Deadwoods and Exusia to their rule. The idea was that by binding and forcing a demon to submit to a mortal host, not only would that person's physical and mental capabilities shoot up considerably, it would give the mortal access to the demons unknown and strange magic, perhaps even eliminating the need for rituals all together. Each iteration of this ritual resulted in the chosen host simply twisting and contorting to disgusting angles before perishing, in one case outright exploding. But Croix was so conditioned by this point he did not question the horrors subjected to him and his once loving family, until the night where his name was called.
The Cult had failed repeatedly and was growing more and more desperate as their once small company of loyal followers began to dwindle. Croix, by that point being their physically strongest follower left, was ostensibly their perceived best chance at successfully binding the demon to a subject who could withstand it. The ritual began and the incantations murmured in the dead of night, Croix's eyes shut, awaiting either successfully serving his masters yet again or the embrace of oblivion. But something unexpected occurred. As Croix shut his eyes a light engulfed him, a disembodied voice spoke, one that opened his eyes to the lies upon lies fed to him almost since his birth. In what felt like an instant, with information it could not possibly know, the voice unravelled Croix's mental conditioning and awoke him to the truth. That voice was 'The One Being' and it needed a follower to begin prepping the world for what would soon follow. When Croix awoke, it was in the blood of his former family, those that had only ever saw him as either a tool or a fellow disciple. Yet, he couldn't feel any sadness, instead for possibly the first time in his life, he felt hope.
Though his body seemed change from the experience, that he was still alive seemed to indicate The One Being had intervened before it could destroy him completely. Armed with faith, his mind and something rarest of all in Deadwood, optimism. Croix left Alphos and travelled the land, stories began to emerge about a strange mountain of a man in a wide brimmed hat, preaching change and forgiveness as he went.
It was not until word reached him of the expedition organised by the Queen in Exusia that Croix felt purpose beyond merely spreading The One Truth. With this quest he could perhaps understand the Cataclycsm, find out what the world would change into under The One Being, use the gold and status offered by The Queen to even begin a full church if possible. These thoughts invigorated Croix's already unshakeable belief, with a smile he set off. Eager to spread The One Truth in earnest.
The One Truth - In spite of its far reaching consequence of implication, Croix's religion is actually quite straightforward. Croix believes in a deity known as The One Being, one who exists in every form of religion as their god (or gods) as well, merely in a different face and manner. The idea is that The One Being seeks to unite the people of Deadwood in preparation for the world's change into something new after its destruction. Croix believes that, while not strictly benevolent, The One Being exists to facilitate change in the world and all things. Growing them into a better version of their original self or something outright new, and that this process is merely happening to the greater land as it morphs to something better, or at least different. There are other specifics to it but this, above all else, is the 'One Truth' Croix is so passionate in spreading to the world.
_______________________________________________ He/Him | 28 | Irish-American | 6’1ft | 229lb _______________________________________________ Isolation _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "There's a lot I'm capable of. None of it good." ___________________________________
Firearms ⫻ As a former police officer, Shane is trained in the use of firearms. His experience ranges only as far as a beat cop however so his familiarity is more focused towards pistols and revolvers, he has used rifles before on firing ranges but is significantly less familiar with them.
Brawling ⫻ Shane was always something of a pugilist growing up but when he began his police training he decided to also refine his fighting further just in case. Shane is hardly any kind of prizefighter but his size, experience and aggression ensure he's more than capable of holding his own in a scrap.
Cardio ⫻ Shane's proclivity towards getting into fights, particularly where his family was concerned, was an instance where James had to step in as a father beyond giving money to his child. In an effort to mellow him out and use his energy in a more constructive manner, James signed Shane up to do track and field. An activity Shane enjoyed enough to take through the rest of his school life. Although it's not something he's kept up on, even with years of drinking, Shane still has relatively good running speed and stamina.
Handy ⫻ As one of the Vanburens familiar with getting his hands dirty, Shane is something of a handyman. Able to maintain and repair most everyday household objects without issue. A skill he founded during his youth through one of the subjects he actually had a natural aptitude for and one he further developed later in life out of financial necessity. Like most, he's possessive about what little tools he does own.
Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "It's not a secret I didn't get these scars fallin' over in church."
An immediate first glance can tell anyone that Shane is prickly and unwelcoming. Cold blue hollow eyes and with a perpetual frown on his face, only sometimes placated (or exacerbated) when drunk. Despite his known to be well-off family he's generally seen as plain or unkempt, with long dishevelled dark red hair and a tangled beard making him look far more savage than the surname Vanburen would imply. His eyes often bloodshot and with dark rings underneath along with some faint scarring along the left side of his mouth only adds to his general thug like appearance.
Shane is tall and quite stocky, especially compared to his siblings. Owing largely to his prior career and often taking on the odd labour based job around town. That said, his midsection has softened more than it should at his age due to the frequent alcohol intake.
Shane's clothing reflects his attitude, which is to say it is often very rough, cheap or functional. He tends to wear the same all purpose black boots for every outfit along with a pair of dark blue jeans and an un-tucked shirt, usually flannel, over a plain white or black T-shirt.
Psychology ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "People don't change. They just become more of who they really are."
MAIN GOAL ⫻ In a narrow and immediate sense of the word ‘goals’, all Shane seemingly wishes to do is drink and forget. Shane’s long term goals have shrunk little by little since he moved back into Araminta beyond moving on to the next day. With his lack of communication and separation of himself from his family, despite having moved back to their home town, it would seem Shane's primary goal is to keep himself dethatched from the people he cared most about. A goal that current circumstances have made difficult.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Shane was never much for religion nor does he consider himself a particularly spiritually intelligent person, instead Shane held himself to the lessons imparted by his father, in his own way. Help and protect others, family especially. Nowadays he seems to regard this previous line of thinking with contempt for his naivete. Though his own isolation could be considered a manner of protecting in its own way. Shielding his family from the man he's become.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Shane's heterosexual (as far as he's aware). But hasn't made any serious romantic effort in quite some time. There's been the odd fling now and then however, especially nowadays with the lowering of his inhibition and the abundance of his apathy. Not to mention that, bitter alcholic or no, certain people are still well aware Shane's family is loaded. But as can likely be put together, there's been nothing genuine on Shane's part.
FEARS ⫻ While not a fear in the traditional sense, Shane is openly disdainful and distrusting of most figures of authority. Cops especially. It's generally masked under his standard cold demeanour, but their presence puts him on a much greater edge than he's normally on. Examining himself with harsher scrutiny.
REPUTATION ⫻ It's an open secret and subject of ridicule or sadness for the majority of people living in Araminta that Shane Vanburen has become a washed alcoholic since his return to the town. Although he keeps largely to himself, Shane’s past as a friendly and outgoing person growing up and prior to his leaving has left his supporters disappointed and his friends alienated at his current state. Although harbouring no animosity towards his family, it is an unspoken fact among them that Shane is difficult to get a hold of and extremely short if they do.
THOUGHTS ABOUT FATHER ⫻ Shane has mixed feelings towards James. He'd generally patterned his life around the ideals and principles of his father but nothing in his life turned out the way he'd have liked it to. Shane, personally, didn't have much of a relationship with James, due to how often his attention was focused elsewhere. It's not something he's especially broken up over, but it has caused him to examine the man with greater scrutiny in his now more cynical state. Wondering how much he'd emulated an idea of his father than the person he really was.
FLAWS ⫻ Naturally, Shane's alcoholism is the primary one. Keeping him from getting steady work and using it as a damaging form of self-medication. Shane's incredible caginess and inability to relate to his friends or family anymore does not help in this regard, even potentially becoming aggressive if pushed repeatedly into discussing uncomfortable subjects. Ironically, his pre-New York flaws were more or less reversed, where once he was overly defensive of his family and somewhat overbearing, he is now apathetic and isolated. Closed off and depressed.
Backstory ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "One thing I learned on the job, don't ask questions you don't wanna know the answers to."
James Vanburen was a magnetic man, even disregarding his wealth and countless acts of charity, people couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Naturally this extended to the help on his estate, so loyal to James where they that at times they would place his happiness above their own far beyond any professional obligation. A maid by the name of Caitlyn Ryan was one such help. She'd immigrated to America seeking a fresh start to her life and had found James Vanburen, who took her in happily, helped her when she struggled, believed in her when her own family did not and said such wonderful things to her. Then she discovered she was pregnant.
Unlike many of his "encounters", Caitlyn was fiercely loyal to and protective of James. So much so that she willingly removed herself from the situation after their son was born. Unable to risk further scrutiny on James reputation with the potential scandal of having a child with a woman "below his station". She left, receiving a sizable amount of money from her beloved Vanburen to go and start a proper life elsewhere. James never shared anything about Shane's mother to either him or anyone else in the family. Merely saying that she'd passed away to prevent the risk of her son tracking her down. A lie Shane still believes to this day.
Shane grew up, as hoped, happy and curious of the world around him. Looked after by his siblings and his father in spite of none of them knowing who had birthed him besides James. There were the odd murmurs from high society of James Vanburen’s “Bastard” but it never seemed to weigh on Shane any. If anything, Shane was significantly more defensive of his family than of himself, usually getting into fights on behalf of his siblings at even the slightest remark from students at the preparatory schools the Vanburens attended. Eventually, James had to sit his son down and explain to him that while his loyalty and desire to protect his family was admirable it was something he had to temper with patience and pragmatism.
Although never quite being able to shed his over-protectiveness in regards to the other Vanburens, Shane did take his father’s words to heart and would start applying himself in outlets that would keep him out of trouble. It was then his interest in track and field grew which would later lead to him seeing his desire to help and protect others as a viable career path, becoming a police officer.
James supported the goal, even if he would sometimes gently nudge his son to slow down on his ambition or seek out a career path he could still do good in while being safer, but Shane wouldn’t be deterred. His training regime was seemingly constant and he applied for the police academy more or less the second he finished high school. But, Shane had no desire to coast off his family name and decided to move out to New York state. Tearful goodbyes and a going away party later and Officer Shane Vanburen was ready to finally make something of himself> Help people. Apply the lessons his father taught him in a way that would make him proud.
Then, four years later, he was back in Araminta. Shane was a stranger in near every sense of the word. Distant, quiet, melancholy and a much heavier drinker. Though he lived in the same city as his father, he refused to move back into the family home despite James' requests. He avoided seeing his family wherever possible and only saw James once when returning from New York, which was when he first arrived back in his hometown. Shane had changed and despite the attempts of family and friends, he refused to divulge anything that happened to him out of state beyond deciding to quit the force.
From there it became a monotonous routine. Wake up in a dingy apartment, do any available odd jobs to earn some money, drink from late afternoon to the dead of night. It went on for the remainder of the year until Christmas Eve, where Shane found himself woken up from his drunken stupor early Christmas morning with the news that his father was dead. It felt like a blur, the news, hugging his family for the first time in years, the funeral. Like some sort of sped up dream that he would wake up from before seeing the conclusion. But there was no conclusion, James Vanburen was dead.
Time passed after the fact, his siblings returned to their homes and Shane was alone once again, drinking, empty. He found himself one night using his key to get into the empty Vanburen Estate. Walking around the halls with the night sky flooding in through the windows and illuminating the white sheets over every bit of furniture that had once been so regal yet welcoming. Shane stumbled to the highest part of the tower, bottle in hand, and when he could climb no more he went up to the nearest window. Opening it as wide as it’d go and letting the cool night breeze wash across his face. He climbed up onto the window sill and closed his eyes. His left leg twitched to move forward before his entire body had some unknown force propel him back into the house.
With some (painful) discovery, Shane would come to learn he had awakened. He had never been the most intelligent of his siblings but the tattoo that appeared on the side of his neck compelled him to comb through his father’s books and records, it was something certain people were capable of doing in extreme emotional situations, it would grant them abilities. In Shane’s case he wasn’t clear, but it gave him the jolt of reality to leave the house before he did something else stupid.
Following that night, Shane found the events rattling in his head more than his usual thoughts while drinking. Noting that no one seemed to care about his new tattoo, normally he’d chalk it up to apathy but the fact that he didn’t even overhear any snide comment of Vanburen’s son becoming even more of a thug was strange. Even still he would have resigned himself to burying it down without a word, before he begun turning to stone like his siblings. After receiving a call from his sister, things became unfortunately clear.
It was time to return home.
Abstraction ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Like a bad dream I can't wake up from."
TYPE ⫻ Awakened
ABSTRACTION ⫻Guardian Angel, a light blue sheen that can envelope Shane or appear as a wall in front of him, able to withstand physical pressure and explode it back at attackers. The Awakened tattoo appears as a circle resembling a shield on Shane’s neck.
ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Shane’s abstraction enables him to surround himself in a light blue aura which can soak up damage from attackers and throw it back in a kinetic blast when it accrues enough physical trauma, this technique is called a Guardian Release. The shield can be altered to take the form of a translucent blue wall which can be held up by Shane and enables others to hide behind it if need be.
The more damaging/greater amount of trauma Shane or the wall receive while active will determine how powerful the Guardian Release becomes. At its lowest being essentially a knockback to being powerful enough to throw enemies through solid objects with ease.
AURA-SENSING ⫻ Shane can feel the aura of those about to be struck by physical damage, supernatural or otherwise, a few moments before it happens. The range of this sensing is short however, around ten feet before this sensing begins to fall off.
LIMITS ⫻ The physical barrier can only manifest on Shane and thus cannot be used to protect someone unless it's being used as a stationary wall. The wall only being active for as long as Shane stands and holds it up The kinetic blast can travel around twenty or so feet ahead of him. The barrier can only absorb physical damage and so attacks from energy such as fire, electricity, are not absorbed - though are still blocked from harming the user. The barrier expands to around Shane's body, appearing like a blue sheen. However, there's only so much that the barrier can take and if it absorbs too much energy then the barrier will explode - injuring Shane in the process. Shane's barrier also can't do much to save him from being grabbed and moved around by something strong enough.
WEAKNESSES ⫻ Shane's barrier weakens quicker from any non-physical/energy-based damage. A constant barrage of damage will pin Shane in place and force him to stand still... which may expose him to even more damage. Now, taking too much energy into his barrier can be dangerous as he can overload and cause all that kinetic energy to explode out. Injuring himself and anybody around him.
Other ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "I think I'm pretty much done."
Cain, to put it politely, immediately resembles a corpse prepared for burial that up and walked out of the casket. Standing at 5’11, Cain’s build is emaciated and his skin is borderline chalk white, along with dark bags under his eyes and messy black hair adding to his wraithlike appearance. His face carries numerous blackened scars along with a particularly nast gash along the left side of his mouth exposing his teeth and jaw underneath.
Cain’s attire is relatively simple. Darkened jeans, black boots, dark grey hoodie with a dark blue denim vest and dark red beanie over his frenzied hair. For obvious reasons he’ll wear his hood over his face when outside in crowds of people. His chain is wrapped around his wrist for quick use, adding to his disheveled and punklike appearance.
BACKSTORY & MOTIVATION
Adam Vrbata had dedicated his life to the cause.
Coming from an, to him, unacceptably unambitious father and naive brother. He had dreamed of impacting the world for the better, of making a difference. Though not much to write home about as a fighter, his unquenchable desire for improvement and drive led him from The Army Of The Czech Republic to MAVERICK and eventually to MIRAGE once word of his pull on others and peerless mental fortitude reached Abel’s ears.
Adam was easily taken in by Abel’s spiel. Protecting the world itself from something greater than nomads had him apply himself more than ever before. Studying under Abel’s tutelage and going from a dime a dozen pointman to a trusted operative. While no nomad, Adam engrained himself as a valuable asset to MIRAGE’s goals. But to someone devoted to a cause already, an understudy equally as devoted and loyal is still only a tool.
Adam found himself heavily wounded after leading an operation that would distract forces from a raid Abel’s team would be conducting, the armed response being more than they had anticipated and managing to chip away at MIRAGE’s robotic forces. The rest of Adam’s team were wiped out, Adam himself only barely clinging to life when his body was recovered by Abel’s team to ensure he wouldn’t be taken alive for interrogation.
Abel stood over his would be protege and offered him a chance. He could guarantee no miracle, but there was a project they were experimenting with that may allow Adam to continue his service, albeit in a more direct form. Unwilling to die pointlessly, Adam agreed.
The experiment was one Abel had been testing in small doses both within MAVERICK and MIRAGE. A new type of operative that could be mass used as needed and quickly turn any soldier into a beyond equal match for a nomad. A type of phantom that could heal wounds, hit with devastating force and utilise abilities outside the realm of ki or magic. All while still being under control with Abel’s desires. It was thought Adam, if he survived, with his tireless devotion and loyalty would be the perfect first candidate. Stabilized and still holding on, Adam underwent the procedure.
And died. Violently. Whatever had been concocted that would allow his body to perform these incredible feats instead tore him apart, burning his flesh and melting through his insides. Those in charge of the project, including Abel himself, watched as their prototype turned quite literally to ash.
The project was scrapped and discarded and forgotten.
Adam Vrabata’s mundane family disappeared one day. Friends and neighbours fed clues that the thought of losing their beloved son to a rogue nomad while under MAVERICK had been too great a stress to bare that they moved far away from their home country and never looked back.
Adam Vrbata’s name was expunged from every record that carried it. No loose ends.
Yet, the project had not failed completely. What remained of Adam Vrbata within the bowels of the project facility began to restructure itself, flawed but whole, Adam Vrbata walked again. MIRAGE forces were quickly called to the scene and slaughtered by abilities promised by and foreign to the project’s original intention, every ounce of force thrown at Vrbata would destroy him only for him to reconstitute himself moments later and continue the onslaught.
Eventually, he tore right through and escaped into the air. Lost and confused, he could feel no cold or warmth or rain against his skin, food no longer had any taste. He still felt the agony of his injuries. Worst of all, he had been exposed repeatedly to the fact that his actions with MIRAGE were never as noble as previously thought. He found he could not justify the atrocities he had allowed to be committed as casualties of war. All he had given, and all Abel and MIRAGE had taken.
Seeing a group of nomads destroy the mechanical monster known as Oh-One he decided then and there to become Cain. Perhaps he could not change the world, he was never any kind of hero he liked to believe. But he could eviscerate an evil he knew to exist.
MIRAGE was going to be ripped and torn down to the last man. But as for Abel, Cain knew there much, much worse fates than death...
FIGHTING STYLE & ABILITIES
SKILLS & ABILITIES
Once a soldier trained in rifles, automatic weapons and close quarters combat, Cain has long since disbanded his old skills in favour of his new ones. Cain is, in many ways, a living ghost. His body can reconstitute itself after a time from fatal injuries even from being crushed or burned to nothing, if the smallest piece of Cain exists, he will be back sometime later. He is able to break his body down at will and move at blindingly fast distances to act as a teleport and faster means of travel when moving and his body can twist and disfigure itself in strange ways to deliver pummeling blows to opponents.
Cain is deadly fast and extremely hard hitting, while hardly an experienced nomad, his abilities belay that of any known form of ki usage or magic, making him difficult for unfamiliar fighters to predict and contend with. His inhuman anatomy has even enabled him to fashion his body into weapons.
SIGNATURE MOVES
■ Rip & Tear
Cain’s body breaks down and dashes forward in a smokey swirl of claws. Although the dash is relatively short range it can also be used to phase through projectiles.
■ Gutless
Cain’s arm morphs into a blade which he charges towards his opponent, if it connects he’ll plunge the sharp end into the opponent’s stomach and hold them aloft for a moment before slamming them into the ground.
■ Mark Of Torment
Cain can only walk in this mode but dark smoke swirls around him as he starts to heal any damage and wounds sustained, though his original scars remain burned on his body. Taking any damage will knock him out of this.
■ As One
Cain shoots imbues the chain around his wrist with shadows and shoots it out which, if it connects, coils around an opponent and pulls them violently towards Cain.
■ Black Hole
Cain’s body spirals upwards before disappearing, reappearing above above the opponent where he falls downwards with a stomp.
■ Sharpened Fury
Cain hunches over as sharp spikes shoot out of his body, damaging and knocking back close opponents.
■ Claws Of Hatred
Cain’s fingers extend and sharpen into claws, he gets a short burst of speed enabling him to close distances much faster and do great damage with his swipes.
■ Reach Of Death
Cain’s arms extend and sharpen as he slashes them several meters outwith in a criss cross motion.
■ All Is Dust
Turning his body to ash, Cain swirls around like a black tornado and batters anything in his path for a few seconds, throwing around any object or person pulled into his motion.
SUPER MOVES
■ I’ll Be Back
If close to death, Cain’s eyes may turn clear black as he gets a marked increase to his speed and strength as will as the ability to feel no pain meaning he cannot be staggered or knocked out, after a few minutes he’ll keel over and die from the overextension.
■ The Beast In Me
Cain’s body twists and contorts into a ten feet tall monstrous creature of shadow and flesh. While his speed is considerably more limited in this form, his blows are highly damaging, albeit somewhat telegraphed. He can smash through near anything with ease and shrug off all but supers in his rampage. After several minutes or from sustaining enough physical punishment, the beast will begin breaking down and melting into nothing. Death after this super takes longer than normal for Cain to regenerate back to life.
■ Mark Of Cain
A shadowy vortex swirls around Cain’s body. If he is attacked, the damage will reflect back on to the attacker sevenfold, making this ability lethal if an opponent is unaware of that fact. Cain cannot attack but he is still strong enough to march implacably towards opponents if need be. After a few minutes, the vortex will consume and obliterate Cain.
WEAKNESSES & LIMITS
Cain is very very fast and very very damaging and he cannot truly die, but he is by no means unstoppable. The majority of Cain’s special moves leave him wide open if they miss or are dodged or parried and his fighting style is extremely all or nothing and primarily suited towards singular opponents than larger groups. Further, he’s not a nomad and gains no benefit of natural ki defense, he can withstand a lot of punishment before dying due to his wraithlike nature but his limbs and body can be torn apart as easily as any other normal human. Additionally, all three of Cain’s supers kill him, two of which fully destroying his body which can take several days before he fully restructures himself to fight again.
OTHER
■ Despite his dreary look and fighting style, Cain is fairly composed, calm and affable if not outright polite to most people. The exception being MAVERICK and especially MIRAGE employees or affiliates. It would be an extremely difficult feat to have Cain stay his hand in the presence of such individuals.
■ Despite his hatred for MIRAGE and Abel however, he actually still believes in MIRAGE’s goals, or at least the ones he was told about. Though he has come to feel tremendous self-disgust for the actions he participated in in pursuit of those goals.
■ Cain’s senses are muddled. He can hear and see normally but has difficulties with smell and can no longer taste. He is able to feel pain and emotion but cannot feel the differences of warmth and cold or rain against his skin.
Voyt casts an unwelcoming and quiet figure, standing at an even 6’0, Voyt is trim with obvious muscle definition. His exposed arms and face carry faded but still noticeable scarring from battles won and lost. Voyt’s dirty blonde hair hangs down to his neck and is often unkempt as is his beard which is usually shaved down to a shadow but comes off patchy from carrying the odd scarring across Voyt’s jaw.
Despite his standoffish appearance and demeanour however, Voyt’s outfit is quite striking. Consisting of an old west gunslinger inspired get-up complete with a dark brown hat that has a bandolier of bullets wrapped around the base. A tattered dark brown poncho that hangs off the back of Voyt’s left side like a cape, a faded blue shirt with the top two buttons undone and a dark brown and black bandanna wrapped around his neck to be pulled up and used when concealing his identity on the job. He has a protective vest over his shirt and brown thigh and leg guards over a pair of dusty black pants, accompanied of course with two holsters for his revolvers. Completing the ensemble is a pair of black cowboy boots with silver tips and rusty bronze spurs.
BACKSTORY & MOTIVATION
Subject Eleven was, for all intents and purposes, a complete success. Several biological scientists and DNA experts exiled from governments and black projects alike had pooled their knowledge together in an effort to create life, namely the perfect soldier. With intents to sell this specimen to the highest bidder or even form their own PMC group via cloning. The scientists had collected the DNA (through questionable means and contacts) of numerous decorated soldiers. One had the idea to also imbue the subject with the DNA of various legends of the Old West, primarily because these were records and small samples that their contacts could supply at a much easier and faster rate than members of the military. After years of delicate trials and ten failures. They succeeded.
Nicknamed Voyt - the initials of the four head scientists' second names - they set to work in shaping their creation to be well versed in all forms of firearm based combat, which he naturally excelled in. Though perhaps due to the DNA used, their subject showed a particular fascination & fondness for revolvers, lever action rifles and shotguns. Their creation was unfeasible when attempting to create a fully grown adult, so instead they created an infant, monitoring his life every step of the way to ensure he displayed the aptitude they desired, he excelled past their expectations. They fostered their subjects brutal efficiency with a myriad of drugs, shock reinforcement and live human targets. The closer, it seemed, their dream became, the more unethical their practices would become. Until, one unknown day, their subject snapped and found the will and moment to escape. Cutting a bloody swathe through the facility and its guards until he hunted down and killed every last scientist involved in his creation, leaving the four overseers to last. Despite his young er age, Voyt had indeed passed his creator’s desires and was far too much for their security or intellects to stop.
No one is quite sure exactly when the Gunslinger mercenary began operating but when he started, there were few better. Demonstrating a cold efficiency above even other assassins, Voyt's gun-slinging wizardry was in high demand. Whilst always being extremely proficient with his weaponry Voyt soon discovered what he found out to be ki, during a contract he had somehow imbued his inner ki into one of his guns, able to fire it endlessly. From that point on Voyt learned all he could about his new skill, apparently it flowed through all living things and having the DNA of some of the most prolific killers gave Voyt a very good grasp of it. At present Voyt has enough of a handle on ki to which he can stand against other martial artists, monsters, supernatural beings and all manner of things alien to regular people, which he does with alarming efficiency. Voyt very quickly raised his prices.
It has been years since Voyt began his career. Killing many who have been deserving, and many who have not. Mentally Voyt consistently feels an inward conflict in himself, he did not set out to be a killer but he also never stopped, never tried to stop himself from falling further and further down. His thoughts trouble him greatly but he cannot seem to allow himself to change and external factors have only sent him drifting from place to place after a disagreement with the League Of Bounty Hunters. Thus, Voyt continues onwards in his tormented journey to the next big spending employer.
Into the army of MIRAGE...
FIGHTING STYLE & ABILITIES
SKILLS & ABILITIES
Voyt is, as his look would suggest, a gunman. Theoretically he can efficiently use almost any ranged weapon put in his hands or in a pinch turn ordinary items into lethal weaponry - if it can be thrown, Voyt is dangerous with it. His most comfortable method of ranged warfare however are his pair of heavily customized black powder single action army revolvers, imbued with his ki these guns can fire an endless stream of bullets at the often very durable nomads Voyt regularly faces. Voyt is also fast, very very fast. Quick on the draw and quick on the feet, if you want to return fire or get up close and personal with Voyt it’s going to take some effort. While his ki heavily expands his incredible aim and speed, he utilizes them for all manner of impossible or impractical techniques like ricochets and trick shots. Finishing out his kit are sticks of dynamite wrapped around his waist for those times you want to blow something up and a sawed off shotgun which fires shrapnel that lodges itself in a nomad’s skin since ordinary slugs won’t quite penetrate it.
Although no martial artist Voyt can fight close quarters if the need arises, but would preferably have his guns or any ranged weaponry in his hands for explosive finishes to his fast blows. As an experienced hitman, Voyt can analyze an opponents styles and strategies the longer a fight goes on, it’s no scanning that the Oh series robots are capable of but assuming Voyt survives long enough and the opponent has any, Voyt will find their weak spots.
SIGNATURE MOVES
■ Happiness Is A Warm Gun
Voyt stuns with a stomp to the foot/bashing the butt of his gun into an opponent's neck and then tackles them with incredible speed, unholstering his guns and shooting an opponent upwards of twenty times in the chest.
■ Gruesome Twosome
Voyt pirouettes while firing, sending a tornado of bullets in all directions to deal with more mobile foes or those who can teleport around. /Airborne variant involves Voyt spinning down to the floor while firing his guns.
■ Ace High
Voyt tosses a stick of dynamite at the foot of an opponent and quickly shoots it, the resulting explosion shooting an opponent into the air.
■ Money Shot
Voyt tosses a coin into the air and fires it at where it ricochets off and hits the back of an opponent, breaking possible defenses and opening them up for assault.
■ Stand Off
Voyt enters a quick-draw stance and parries any projectiles thrown his way by shooting at them until he starts moving again.
■ Deadmans Hand
Voyt imbues his ki into his weapons, typically his guns for red kinetic charged shots but he can imbue any thrown object with the same damaging kinetic energy, charging up his shots for increased damage but slower rate of fire.
■ On The House
If an opponent has gotten too close for comfort, Voyt uses his incredible speed and reflexes to leap high into the air and disappear, leaving behind a lit stick of dynamite for his opponent, he reappears as few seconds later, rolling to the floor if needed but can use Gruesome Twosome on the way down to deliver a volley of gunfire from above.
■ Payout
Voyt unloads a barrage of gunfire from his shotgun, while it is effective against nomads it can quickly shatter cover and walls as well as having a wide spread. Naturally damage falls off the further a target is.
■ Roulette Rush
Forgoing his typical style, Voyt rushes an opponent and delivers a savage dropkick to the chest, launching himself into the air with a backflip. He is able to use Gruesome Twosome when falling back to the ground.
■ Walk It Off
Voyt fires a single shot before quickly reholstering, if it connects then the opponent recoils slightly before suddenly being shot several times in the chest sending them stumbling a decent distance back.
SUPER MOVES
■ Hard Boiled
Voyt’s incredible movement and reaction speeds go into overdrive, for as long as he can physically keep it up, time slows to a complete crawl around Voyt while he moves at roughly the same speeds, in this state he can use any of his regular moves and is all but dodge every move thrown at him unless he is being extraordinarily careless or somehow trapped.
■ The Last Dance
Voyt grabs the cylinder of one revolver and spins it to dangerous speeds, he begins to fan the hammer with his hand becoming a blur, turning one revolver into a fully charged gatling gun. The red charged shots flying out in a wide spread and being able to tear through buildings and people alike. Voyt being damaged can knock him out of this move early.
■ One Bullet
Voyt’s eyes burn red as he holsters one gun and fires the other. A dramatic zoom on the bullet reveals the name of his opponent slowly burned into the side as the bullet wreathes itself in a large red flame. The bolt of energy will blast clean through anything it touches and follows where Voyt wills it to go for several moments as Voyt is able, once the will is done it will travel for several more feet in whatever direction it was facing before burning out, still ripping right through anything in its path.
WEAKNESSES & LIMITS
Voyt’s a competent brawler and his strikes are enough to deal with rank and file attackers but they are very ill advised against nomads. Further, while Voyt’s speed and damage output are incredibly high, if he is without a gun or even anything he can throw, his options in a fight become severely limited. Lastly, Voyt can withstand greater amounts of punishment than the average combatant but he is no powerhouse and relies on dodging rather than tanking blows more than most characters.
OTHER
■ Voyt regularly keeps a journal, sometimes locking himself away for hours or even days to fill it in.
■ Beyond the aforementioned fact (and being an assassin) relatively little is known about Voyt, by ally and foe alike. Because of this he has been requested to be part of many an interview due to his popularity on the Justice Riders show as an occasional villain, much to his extreme displeasure and disdain.
"The changing of this world is not as fearsome as it sounds."
_______________________________
Bearer Of The One Truth Bearer Of The One Truth
"Well met, do you have a moment to discuss the word of The One Being?"
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅
What are you? What are you?
APPEARANCE ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "An irregular Missionary, perhaps. But a Missionary none the less."
At a distance, Croix could easily pass for your stereotypical marauder or general thug. His build is stocky and tall, his face and body littered with scarring, strange markings and the general dirt that comes from travelling the Deadwoods. And his mangy shoulder length silver hair and beard. Yet when closer inspected his dress sense does not evoke that of a brigand, indeed, he is closer to that of a priest.
There are... Liberties taken with his choice of outfit compared to how one would typically picture a priest however. His collar is discoloured and appears homemade and his overall outfit is worn and tattered. Fitted more for Deadwood's hazardous terrain than a sermon. He wears two layers on his body, one being a standard black duster style coat while the other is a torn cloak worn over his shirt and jacket in order to protect against the colder nights and terrain. He also wears a wide brimmed black hat to combat against the sun along with handwraps to offer some degree of protection when needing to hold or tear through the sharp brambles in the heavily forested areas.
CAPABILITIES ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "To spread the word of The One Being. One must be ready to face those unwelcoming to hear it."
In spite of his spirituality, Croix's skillset is much more suited towards his frame than his faith. Able to wield an axe or great-sword like it was a common long-sword without any obvious difficulty, yet his powerful frame does not seem to be justification enough for his raw strength and durability. While normally affable, even jovial, in a fight he seems overcome like a mad beast. Swinging his axe with enough force to split trees and taking punishment that should realistically stop him in his tracks all while seemingly revelling in the bloodshed like a man possessed. It is theorised by some who have seem him in battle that he is possibly part giant or split with another race, whatever he may be, it is not fully human.
In terms of weakness however, Croix is not unstoppable. While he can swing weapons his height without any physical problems on his part, he is still slower on the swing than someone using a much lighter weapon. Furthermore, his style is inherently bestial, meaning that while it often only takes one hit from him to at least force an enemy into panic, his attacks can be blocked, dodged or parried by skilled or fast enough enemies. Lastly, while near everyone is susceptible to magic regardless, Croix seems to be debilitated by it more than most. His strange durability means he can withstand it most of the time but offensive spells that hit or effect him often make him clutch his head in pain or even make him fall to his knee outright while he composes himself.
EQUIPMENT ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "My faith is all I require... And perhaps some wine."
Croix typically travels quite light, typically his largest and most prominent item is his Axe for which he has no scabbard or way to hold it save carrying it rested against his shoulder. Beyond that his notable items are a small coin purse with rarely much currency within and his leatherbound locked tome, the key for which rests on a necklace that Croix never removes. Although often friendly, if offputting, he is extremely protective of his book and will politely but firmly deny any one else the chance to read its contents or even hold it. Though vague, Croix at most insinuates the book is related to his religion and knowledge of The One Being but refuses to go into much detail beyond this.
GOAL ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Endure. And in enduring, grow strong."
Quite simply put, Croix hopes to spread and preach the word of The One Being wherever he travels. Croix is incredibly strong but he is still one man, by journeying the Deadwoods alongside others he is eager to deepen the reach of The One Truth. It is hard to imagine he can do worse anyway, considering he touts a religion no one in the land has heard of and its followers amounts to just himself.
PERSONALITY ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Our fires never stop burning, friend. All we can do is temper them. Through hope... And through faith."
Croix is a conflicting and strange presence to get an accurate reading. Most of the time he is quiet yet polite and even friendly. As though he is existing in an alternate world unseen by the rest of the Deadwoods. He is willing to listen, patient even to the most belligerent of people he finds himself in the company of and of course more than eager to discuss the various faiths of the land as well as espouse on his own.
Yet he is also unsettling, Croix has a strange manner about him, a serenity that often makes him come off as detached and indifferent to the horrors that surround him. His hopefulness, while seemingly genuine, can easily be seen by others as denial or rejection of the current state of things. In his mind, The One Being represents change and the current state of the world is merely its endurance as it forms into something new and is not to be frightened, but this is little comfort to those who consider themselves more in touch with reality. This is all to say nothing about him in combat, where he seems to regress into a monster of man, laughing and hollering with joy at the carnage he unleashes. While he can tell apart friend from foe and even strategize and coordinate his attacks when in enough control of himself, he seems to revel in the suffering inflicted upon his enemies.
While he is a friendly and outright optimistic sort regularly, there is undeniably a darkness to him that lurks underneath his warmth, hope and faith.
"Who I was does not matter. I am something more. Changed."
Croix's birth was unremarkable, a meeting between two members of a Bone Clan no doubt long since claimed by the harsh world. Unwanted by both parents he was birthed and left in the city of Alphos. This, truthfully, should be the were the story ends as life for children in general is not comfortable for most of the Deadwood's denizens yet Croix survived. Adopted, so to speak, by an orphan house in the city. Life was almost idyllic growing up for Croix, his fellow orphans being a motley crew that looked out for one another, something out of a story book really.
As happy stories typically go in the Deadwoods, it ended up taking a dark turn. Around the time Croix became a teenager, his home and friends began to act stranger around him, introducing new phrases and worldviews little by little as he grew older. He learned not to question the wisdom of the people who had so generously took him in yet he could feel himself slipping away piece by piece as information was filled into his head. About the power and superiority of demons and magic over the common man, the inevitability of demonic rule over these ruined lands. By the time Croix was becoming an adult, he was all but indoctrinated into the cult that his caretakers truly were, along with the rest of his brothers and sisters.
The cult consolidated their people and resources into a single purpose, their goal to summon and bind a demon to their will. In spite of being a small ramshackle orphanage in Alphos, the cult had grand ambitions of a crusade, led by demons and their own magical prowress, to slaughter or enslave the denizens of the Deadwoods and Exusia to their rule. The idea was that by binding and forcing a demon to submit to a mortal host, not only would that person's physical and mental capabilities shoot up considerably, it would give the mortal access to the demons unknown and strange magic, perhaps even eliminating the need for rituals all together. Each iteration of this ritual resulted in the chosen host simply twisting and contorting to disgusting angles before perishing, in one case outright exploding. But Croix was so conditioned by this point he did not question the horrors subjected to him and his once loving family, until the night where his name was called.
The Cult had failed repeatedly and was growing more and more desperate as their once small company of loyal followers began to dwindle. Croix, by that point being their physically strongest follower left, was ostensibly their perceived best chance at successfully binding the demon to a subject who could withstand it. The ritual began and the incantations murmured in the dead of night, Croix's eyes shut, awaiting either successfully serving his masters yet again or the embrace of oblivion. But something unexpected occurred. As Croix shut his eyes a light engulfed him, a disembodied voice spoke, one that opened his eyes to the lies upon lies fed to him almost since his birth. In what felt like an instant, with information it could not possibly know, the voice unravelled Croix's mental conditioning and awoke him to the truth. That voice was 'The One Being' and it needed a follower to begin prepping the world for what would soon follow. When Croix awoke, it was in the blood of his former family, those that had only ever saw him as either a tool or a fellow disciple. Yet, he couldn't feel any sadness, instead for possibly the first time in his life, he felt hope.
Though his body seemed change from the experience, that he was still alive seemed to indicate The One Being had intervened before it could destroy him completely. Armed with faith, his mind and something rarest of all in Deadwood, optimism. Croix left Alphos and travelled the land, stories began to emerge about a strange mountain of a man in a wide brimmed hat, preaching change and forgiveness as he went.
It was not until word reached him of the expedition organised by the Queen in Exusia that Croix felt purpose beyond merely spreading The One Truth. With this quest he could perhaps understand the Cataclycsm, find out what the world would change into under The One Being, use the gold and status offered by The Queen to even begin a full church if possible. These thoughts invigorated Croix's already unshakeable belief, with a smile he set off. Eager to spread The One Truth in earnest.
The One Truth - In spite of its far reaching consequence of implication, Croix's religion is actually quite straightforward. Croix believes in a deity known as The One Being, one who exists in every form of religion as their god (or gods) as well, merely in a different face and manner. The idea is that The One Being seeks to unite the people of Deadwood in preparation for the world's change into something new after its destruction. Croix believes that, while not strictly benevolent, The One Being exists to facilitate change in the world and all things. Growing them into a better version of their original self or something outright new, and that this process is merely happening to the greater land as it morphs to something better, or at least different. There are other specifics to it but this, above all else, is the 'One Truth' Croix is so passionate in spreading to the world.
"The changing of this world is not as fearsome as it sounds."
_______________________________
Bearer Of The One Truth Bearer Of The One Truth
"Well met, do you have a moment to discuss the word of The One Being?"
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅
What are you? What are you?
APPEARANCE ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "An irregular Missionary, perhaps. But a Missionary none the less."
At a distance, Croix could easily pass for your stereotypical marauder or general thug. His build is stocky and tall, his face and body littered with scarring, strange markings and the general dirt that comes from travelling the Deadwoods. And his mangy shoulder length silver hair and beard. Yet when closer inspected his dress sense does not evoke that of a brigand, indeed, he is closer to that of a priest.
There are... Liberties taken with his choice of outfit compared to how one would typically picture a priest however. His collar is discoloured and appears homemade and his overall outfit is worn and tattered. Fitted more for Deadwood's hazardous terrain than a sermon. He wears two layers on his body, one being a standard black duster style coat while the other is a torn cloak worn over his shirt and jacket in order to protect against the colder nights and terrain. He also wears a wide brimmed black hat to combat against the sun along with handwraps to offer some degree of protection when needing to hold or tear through the sharp brambles in the heavily forested areas.
CAPABILITIES ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "To spread the word of The One Being. One must be ready to face those unwelcoming to hear it."
In spite of his spirituality, Croix's skillset is much more suited towards his frame than his faith. Able to wield an axe or great-sword like it was a common long-sword without any obvious difficulty, yet his powerful frame does not seem to be justification enough for his raw strength and durability. While normally affable, even jovial, in a fight he seems overcome like a mad beast. Swinging his axe with enough force to split trees and taking punishment that should realistically stop him in his tracks all while seemingly revelling in the bloodshed like a man possessed. It is theorised by some who have seem him in battle that he is possibly part giant or split with another race, whatever he may be, it is not fully human.
In terms of weakness however, Croix is not unstoppable. While he can swing weapons his height without any physical problems on his part, he is still slower on the swing than someone using a much lighter weapon. Furthermore, his style is inherently bestial, meaning that while it often only takes one hit from him to at least force an enemy into panic, his attacks can be blocked, dodged or parried by skilled or fast enough enemies. Lastly, while near everyone is susceptible to magic regardless, Croix seems to be debilitated by it more than most. His strange durability means he can withstand it most of the time but offensive spells that hit or effect him often make him clutch his head in pain or even make him fall to his knee outright while he composes himself.
EQUIPMENT ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "My faith is all I require... And perhaps some wine."
Croix typically travels quite light, typically his largest and most prominent item is his Axe for which he has no scabbard or way to hold it save carrying it rested against his shoulder. Beyond that his notable items are a small coin purse with rarely much currency within and his leatherbound locked tome, the key for which rests on a necklace that Croix never removes. Although often friendly, if offputting, he is extremely protective of his book and will politely but firmly deny any one else the chance to read its contents or even hold it. Though vague, Croix at most insinuates the book is related to his religion and knowledge of The One Being but refuses to go into much detail beyond this.
GOAL ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Endure. And in enduring, grow strong."
Quite simply put, Croix hopes to spread and preach the word of The One Being wherever he travels. Croix is incredibly strong but he is still one man, by journeying the Deadwoods alongside others he is eager to deepen the reach of The One Truth. It is hard to imagine he can do worse anyway, considering he touts a religion no one in the land has heard of and its followers amounts to just himself.
PERSONALITY ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Our fires never stop burning, friend. All we can do is temper them. Through hope... And through faith."
Croix is a conflicting and strange presence to get an accurate reading. Most of the time he is quiet yet polite and even friendly. As though he is existing in an alternate world unseen by the rest of the Deadwoods. He is willing to listen, patient even to the most belligerent of people he finds himself in the company of and of course more than eager to discuss the various faiths of the land as well as espouse on his own.
Yet he is also unsettling, Croix has a strange manner about him, a serenity that often makes him come off as detached and indifferent to the horrors that surround him. His hopefulness, while seemingly genuine, can easily be seen by others as denial or rejection of the current state of things. In his mind, The One Being represents change and the current state of the world is merely its endurance as it forms into something new and is not to be frightened, but this is little comfort to those who consider themselves more in touch with reality. This is all to say nothing about him in combat, where he seems to regress into a monster of man, laughing and hollering with joy at the carnage he unleashes. While he can tell apart friend from foe and even strategize and coordinate his attacks when in enough control of himself, he seems to revel in the suffering inflicted upon his enemies.
While he is a friendly and outright optimistic sort regularly, there is undeniably a darkness to him that lurks underneath his warmth, hope and faith.
"Who I was does not matter. I am something more. Changed."
Croix's birth was unremarkable, a meeting between two members of a Bone Clan no doubt long since claimed by the harsh world. Unwanted by both parents he was birthed and left in the city of Alphos. This, truthfully, should be the were the story ends as life for children in general is not comfortable for most of the Deadwood's denizens yet Croix survived. Adopted, so to speak, by an orphan house in the city. Life was almost idyllic growing up for Croix, his fellow orphans being a motley crew that looked out for one another, something out of a story book really.
As happy stories typically go in the Deadwoods, it ended up taking a dark turn. Around the time Croix became a teenager, his home and friends began to act stranger around him, introducing new phrases and worldviews little by little as he grew older. He learned not to question the wisdom of the people who had so generously took him in yet he could feel himself slipping away piece by piece as information was filled into his head. About the power and superiority of demons and magic over the common man, the inevitability of demonic rule over these ruined lands. By the time Croix was becoming an adult, he was all but indoctrinated into the cult that his caretakers truly were, along with the rest of his brothers and sisters.
The cult consolidated their people and resources into a single purpose, their goal to summon and bind a demon to their will. In spite of being a small ramshackle orphanage in Alphos, the cult had grand ambitions of a crusade, led by demons and their own magical prowress, to slaughter or enslave the denizens of the Deadwoods and Exusia to their rule. The idea was that by binding and forcing a demon to submit to a mortal host, not only would that person's physical and mental capabilities shoot up considerably, it would give the mortal access to the demons unknown and strange magic, perhaps even eliminating the need for rituals all together. Each iteration of this ritual resulted in the chosen host simply twisting and contorting to disgusting angles before perishing, in one case outright exploding. But Croix was so conditioned by this point he did not question the horrors subjected to him and his once loving family, until the night where his name was called.
The Cult had failed repeatedly and was growing more and more desperate as their once small company of loyal followers began to dwindle. Croix, by that point being their physically strongest follower left, was ostensibly their perceived best chance at successfully binding the demon to a subject who could withstand it. The ritual began and the incantations murmured in the dead of night, Croix's eyes shut, awaiting either successfully serving his masters yet again or the embrace of oblivion. But something unexpected occurred. As Croix shut his eyes a light engulfed him, a disembodied voice spoke, one that opened his eyes to the lies upon lies fed to him almost since his birth. In what felt like an instant, with information it could not possibly know, the voice unravelled Croix's mental conditioning and awoke him to the truth. That voice was 'The One Being' and it needed a follower to begin prepping the world for what would soon follow. When Croix awoke, it was in the blood of his former family, those that had only ever saw him as either a tool or a fellow disciple. Yet, he couldn't feel any sadness, instead for possibly the first time in his life, he felt hope.
Though his body seemed change from the experience, that he was still alive seemed to indicate The One Being had intervened before it could destroy him completely. Armed with faith, his mind and something rarest of all in Deadwood, optimism. Croix left Alphos and travelled the land, stories began to emerge about a strange mountain of a man in a wide brimmed hat, preaching change and forgiveness as he went.
It was not until word reached him of the expedition organised by the Queen in Exusia that Croix felt purpose beyond merely spreading The One Truth. With this quest he could perhaps understand the Cataclycsm, find out what the world would change into under The One Being, use the gold and status offered by The Queen to even begin a full church if possible. These thoughts invigorated Croix's already unshakeable belief, with a smile he set off. Eager to spread The One Truth in earnest.
The One Truth - In spite of its far reaching consequence of implication, Croix's religion is actually quite straightforward. Croix believes in a deity known as The One Being, one who exists in every form of religion as their god (or gods) as well, merely in a different face and manner. The idea is that The One Being seeks to unite the people of Deadwood in preparation for the world's change into something new after its destruction. Croix believes that, while not strictly benevolent, The One Being exists to facilitate change in the world and all things. Growing them into a better version of their original self or something outright new, and that this process is merely happening to the greater land as it morphs to something better, or at least different. There are other specifics to it but this, above all else, is the 'One Truth' Croix is so passionate in spreading to the world.
[centre]BORN TO DIE / WORLD IS A FUCK / 鬼神 Kill Em All 1989 / I am dragMan / 410,757,864,530 DEAD COPS
[i][b]NOTHING FROM NOWHERE I'M NO ONE AT ALL
[/b][/i]
what is yourre favorite tea? i like all kinds[/centre]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center">BORN TO DIE / WORLD IS A FUCK / 鬼神 Kill Em All 1989 / I am dragMan / 410,757,864,530 DEAD COPS<br><br><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">NOTHING FROM NOWHERE I'M NO ONE AT ALL</span></span><br><br>what is yourre favorite tea? i like all kinds</div><br></div>