Drag

Thornwood Asylum For The Criminal Insane- A Villain Roleplay. (Closed Indefinitely)

---

---

Charon didn't betray much emotion inwardly or outwardly when the fiery red haired girl responded to his piercing stare with a wink. Normally, Inmates who were aware of him did their best not to make eye contact with the wraith-like man wherever possible. This one, the fire girl, was either much more brave, or much more ignorant, than the standard inmate anyway. Either way, she seemed to settle in line after being met with the cattle prod. Likely just choosing her battles for the moment however, Charon was fairly sure she was far from done in trying to test what she could get away with.

'Charmed.' He dryly thought to himself. She was one to watch out for, in any case.

That said, she was far from the only person at the table. It had filled with all manner of "person". Charon took note to give at least a glance at each of them, assessing the way they carried themselves, trying to place them. There was the dull speaking electric woman, the punk woman whom Charon vaguely recognised. Perhaps one of the few he'd beaten down but didn't have time to dispose of before the authorities arrived. Happened now and then in his line of work. There was the-

Thunk.

The little feral girl bumped her forehead against Charon's shoulder. Gratitude on her expression clear despite the muzzle concealing a good chunk of her face. Charon had actually forgotten her existence shortly after giving her his meal. Inwardly he was admittedly somewhat taken aback considering most people in Thornwood, understandably, tried to give him a wide berth much less touch him. Outwardly, his only response to Kailani's gesture of thanks was a slight raise of an eyebrow. He actually took note of her as she dined on the gruel before her. Charon's plate quickly disappearing under several others as a few different inmates also offered their food, either from not needing to eat like Charon or perhaps trying to appear tough. Regardless, it seemed the Feral Girl was the most popular one at the table.

"Who amongst us...is the strongest?" Körbl this time said loudly, body readied and willing to jump into action.

This drew Charon's eyes back onto the rest of the table.

The man who more resembled a canine spoke up first. Immediately withdrawing from any kind of chest pounding or fight that was sure to follow such a question. Any notion that it was out of pacifism or even an attempt at reform was evaporated however as he immediately added the possibility he could eat the body of the loser. Only reinforcing Charon's belief that all the dogs in this facility needed putting down. Some, more literally than others.

The fiery woman remarked glibly that all men seemed to be susceptible to being set aflame in her experience. That was true in Charon's as well. But then, most people in general were also quite susceptible to being disembowelled, as he had also discovered.

The ice man was open to the challenge provided he could change into his "Full form". The punk looking woman from earlier echoed similar sentiments that she too could handle herself but not without some "Juice". That either of them expected a proper fight would be allowed at all much less a fair one was laughable.

Lastly the feral girl, in between mouthfuls of slop and cutlery, chimed in. She had no formal superpowers. She wasn't even considered human, it was implied. She did have a name. 'Kailani'. It had no meaning to Charon, if he had it his way, it'd soon have no meaning to anyone.

Amidst all of these contrasting voices, Charon did take note of the other red haired woman. Piercing face that reminded Charon of a reptile. Confirming her non-human features, she opened her maw to reveal her rows of jagged serrated teeth. Built purely for tearing at even the hardiest flesh. Charon knew her by reputation, The Demon. He wasn't particularly inclined to believe her claims of demonhood, but stranger things had happened. Himself, for example. But that said, he knew a display when he saw it. She'd even gone as far as to shoot out her forked tongue, like some kind of on-stage performance.

'Scary.' Charon mused internally. When it came to displays used to sow fear, Charon personally preferred skinning someone alive and leaving their body behind.

But all of this was a performance in one way or another. People establishing themselves. As fighters, scholars, survivors... Hungry, in Kailani's case. Charon didn't entertain performances. He made his point and was done with it.

Speaking in his typical low, gravelly monotone. Charon's voice was likely to not even be heard among the rest of the chatter at the table. But his look right into the eyes of Körbl would be hard to miss even if the German were hard of sight.

"Were we to engage." He said, matter-of-factly, ignoring Körbl's actual question. "I would kill you. And neither you nor anyone else'd be able to stop me."

There was a cold circle of steel that pressed itself at the base of Charon's neck. His own personal Guard. It wasn't a typical threat however. The weapon itself wouldn't really do much to dissuade Charon when he began to "work". Instead the Guard reminded him of the actual deterrent he now faced.

"Fortunately for you. Unfortunately for me. I won't be able to follow through on that fact. Not unless the implant added to me is temporarily turned off. Or removed."

Charon merely clasped his hands and looked elsewhere in the cafeteria. If there was a response to his words, even from the German himself, Charon wasn't particularly interested. As far as he was concerned, all of his words, heard or not, were plain and irrefutable truth.

Instead he surveyed the rest of the room. Perhaps if an incident did occur. Staff would deem it necessary to let the wraith off his leash. Then, both men would get their wish.

Thornwood Asylum For The Criminal Insane- A Villain Roleplay. (Closed Indefinitely)

---

---

A frown stretched across Charon's features as he locked eyes with the physically fit yet no less scraggly looking blonde man.

Time seemed to stand still for Charon as he watched the man sit at the same table he'd been assigned to. He knew this one. Körbl. One of the ones his implant had been tested on without success. Also one of the inmates he had been kept from interacting with the most. Likely due to the fact that were the two to engage the results may well be catastrophic for the Asylum. Now that the implant had been successfully applied however, perhaps the staff wanted to test how much they could trust it to reign Charon in.

'Awful lot of faith.' Charon mused to himself. His thoughts of tactics and violence and how to debilitate everyone in his immediate vicinity were interrupted. A cheerful, somewhat annoying voice rang out amongst the conversations happening around the table. Aimed directly at him.

“Not hungry? Do you mind if I…?”

He shifted his gaze towards the young looking muzzled girl. Hands outstretched in a begging posture while she eyed the plate of slop in front of Charon. Although his stone face didn't show it, he was momentarily taken aback by this. Most of the inmates, for good reason, gave him a wide berth or tried to intimidate him to fuel their own ego.

Charon's first initial thought was to dump the contents of the plate on the floor while maintaining eye contact.

After a second of deliberation he felt that too petty, even for him. Particularly with the fact that the woman was already collared and muzzled. Like a dog.

"No. I don't." Charon answered, voice deep and coarse like sandpaper.

He slowly slid the plate towards the woman. He made sure to continue his unblinking stare of cold disdain in order to ensure she did not take it as any gesture of compassion or comradery. Were the situation to change here, he would put her down without any remorse.

He looked back over towards Körbl. For such an off-putting person his question of the table's strength seemed to inspire a lot of discussion. The type of which Charon had no interest in entertaining.

Instead he looked past Körbl. Past the strange ice manipulating man, the punk looking woman, the insecure man vying for attention, the dull looking woman who had just sat down. Actually that did almost catch Charon's attention considering she'd strong armed a metallic looking man who was several times her size. But instead Charon focused on Ameliya. Having just been shocked by one of the guards for insubordination. While she, and the punk looking woman who'd attempted to stick up for her and was similarly reprimanded, seemed to move on from the incident. Charon kept his gaze focused and his hands tensed.

He wasn't ever given much warning when the guards would use him to take down another inmate. Better to be ready, just in case.

Thornwood Asylum For The Criminal Insane- A Villain Roleplay. (Closed Indefinitely)

---

---

---

"None of you seem to understand. I'm not locked in here with you."

"You're locked in here with me."

---

The man in the lab coat pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a quick sigh of annoyance.

"That was everything?" Professor Connors asked, handing the Guard back the incident report.

"Yes." The Guard responded curtly. "He said to any inmates still in the area while we were dragging him off. Wasn't yellin' it or anythin' but..."

It was a very clear threat.

The incident in question had happened in the early afternoon. John Doe, AKA "Charon", had attacked and killed another inmate. A man with superhuman reflexes known as "Ronin". It was a... Controversial incident, to say the least. To the other staff at Thornwood it was quite cut and dry and something clearly needed to be done to pacify John Doe, but to the guards it was a different matter. Ronin, though more used to a sword, had managed to carve a shiv unseen by cameras out of the end of his toothbrush. During his recess period, Ronin had taken Guard Adams hostage, threatening to cut his throat out if he was not given release. The chaos of all this had caused Charon's own guard at the time to take his eye off him for one mere second. Then, all of a sudden, the man with superhuman reflexes had a scythe made of Charon's right arm, disembowel him.

It was, directly anyway, the only time the staff at Thornwood had known of an inmate helping staff in such a manner. Of course, everyone else in the Asylum was trying to keep their inmates alive for a very specific purpose, so the incident was quite a serious matter. The guards however, some more than others, were much more sympathetic. A few had even stated to Connors that the incident not be filed down as cause for discipline since Adams would undoubtedly be dead rather than just on leave. Needless to say, Research staff weren't exactly happy at the situation. It had led to some, trying, attempts.

"Sir, why don't we try the implant?" A younger researcher walked up to Connors as the guard left his sight.

"We'd tried that several times." Connors stated through gritted teeth. They really were scraping the bottom of the barrel. "Meier, Brennan, half the population in here... It never took. Useless."

Connors was about to brush past him but the researcher stood his ground, on his pad he flipped to some images constructed of Charon's physiology. The, almost parasitic, substance that dwelled on him, granting him his immortality and abilities.

"The implant may not function on the human body itself as a host. But we ran some tests. It may just interface with the, uhm... "Gunk" on our subject." The research team had long since stopped trying to come up with a scientific name for what the hell was actually wrong with Charon.

Connors narrowed his eyes and read the test reports. With a grunt he peered over at his assistant.

"Can't hurt." He muttered.

---

---

Charon stood stone faced in his cell. Two large cement like blocks over his hands and up to his arms. Speakers surrounding the top corners of his abode, ready to blast in high ultrasonic sound if he ever turned violent. Similar high tech looking cuffs, placed around his ankles and keeping them close together at all times. All of it like window dressing.

The real precaution was the implant. Everyone knew it.

When it had first been planted, weeks and weeks of tests were conducted to make sure the damn thing actually took. Aside from a couple of points where Charon stubbornly resisted the needle like insertion into his brain from the implant. Almost straggling some of the inmates used in the testing. Other than that, it was considered a success. It was even announced through the facility's P.A. Presumably a sort of "The immortal ink man will no longer try to kill you on sight. Please return to your daily lives." That wasn't entirely accurate however. The implant could be turned off and everyone knew it. That was the real reason he was let out into the general population.

Not for socialization. Not for rehabilitation. But as a reminder. That, at any moment and without warning, staff could let him off the leash. Then the guards would be the least of the inmates problems.

Charon stood against the wall as the guards began to search him for any concealed weaponry. Like he needed it. Satisfied, they turned him around and begun leading him out towards the cafeteria. He didn't really need to eat as they'd discovered during testing. But, again, a valuable deterrent to stick out there during the most crowded time of the day.

Due to his restraints, Charon couldn't actually carry a tray. So, somewhat embarrassingly, one of the guards had to do so for him.

They placed him down at the end of one of the lunch tables and laid his feast of grey formless slop in front of him. He didn't pay his meal much mind as he scanned the rest of the table. A punkish woman, an icy gentleman, a little girl. He didn't even bother to hide his obvious sizing up of them.

Slowly, mechanically, he then turned his face back ahead. Staring off into some far away world only he inhabits as his spoon picked and moved around fruitlessly in the gruel.

'I'm not locked in here with you...'

Thornwood Asylum For The Criminal Insane- A Villain Roleplay. (Closed Indefinitely)

Charon

Name:
John Doe (Only ever referred to as such on documentation. Staff, face-to-face, typically just call him Charon)

Known Aliases:
Charon, "The Raggedy Man"

Age:
Unknown, but visually somewhere in his early to mid 30's

Appearance:
Standing at an even six feet with toned musculature, Charon would well be the very picture of health were it not for everything else about him physically. Sunken eyes, pale skin, obvious veins along his arms and neck. Topping it off is unkempt black hair, dull gray eyes and a general "Stiffness" to his movements and mannerisms make Charon appear as a corpse that just left his own wake.

When using his abilities, Charon's body morphs and twists itself into whatever he may be forming at such time. Almost becoming a mockery of the human anatomy. Whilst it's hardly the most unsettling thing about him, Guards have noted that Charon never seems to blink.

Reference

Psyche Profile:

Patient Psychology

Subject is... A strange one. Which, considering the environment, is really saying something.

John Doe could almost be described as the model inmate. He has no records of violence or even disobedience towards staff, is quiet all hours of the day, complies with any and all pacification methods. About the worst he has ever done is be unwilling to divulge any details about his past life during profiling. This behaviour only ever extends to Asylum staff however. Towards fellow inmates...

Subject is immediately violent if precautions are not put in place. While never devolving into a screaming beast, the Subject will methodically tear apart anything in his path to try and reach his target. He has so far never killed any staff members (even saving one in a particular case, see Incident Report #5A), but several have been injured. Bizarrely, with his current limits and deterrents in place, he is willing to converse with fellow inmates, even coming off cordial and civil. But will still calmly explain that in no uncertain terms he would kill them violently if he were physically able.

Overall while the subject exhibits no special danger to anyone not obviously "Evil" and is capable of surprising self awareness, he is not to be treated as safe by any means. Exhibiting clear signs of megalomania, BPD and a warped sense of morality.

Background:

Background

There are many theories regarding the past of John Doe.

Former soldier? Given the way he operates and moves and his familiarity with basic close quarters and long ranged combat. A man wronged by the world? Given his definition for "justice" involves murdering corrupt politicians and public figures as much as it does super villains.

The staff at Thornwood guess often at this, but it amounts to little. Efforts to trace Charon's past before Charon have bore nothing of note. All he is now is all that needs to be known in any case. A brutal, brutal, vigilante with a habit for leaving behind incredibly disturbing crime scenes with his victims. A warning, so to speak. That for criminals, none of them are safe. While it is worrying that the state of the world has left many citizens agreeing if not outright supporting Charon's methods, including some of the Asylum's own guards, it is true that Charon has never claimed an "Innocent" life. Innocent by his own parameters anyway.

While cagey about his past life, Charon has divulged some aspects of how he came to be. He was a regular human being, his current condition the result of extensive genetic testing. Or torture, from another point of view. He claims the scientists who did this to him are long dead and that he still does not fully know the extent of his abilities, only that his powers and effective immortality were not the intended outcome from his captor. Charon gave no more information than this, presumably hoping our own scientists might figure out how to change or revert his condition. Sadly they haven't made much progress themselves as Charon is thus far an anomaly, after hearing of their lack of results, Charon hasn't had much else to say to them.

Skills, Talents and Learning:
In terms of practical skills, Charon has demonstrated to be at the least proficient with firearms and knives, though with his powers he rarely has need of these skills anymore. He is surprisingly articulate when need be but is also quiet and reserved. Many patients here enjoy tormenting each other mentally but, to our surprise, Charon has yet to rise to these barbs or pointed statements with any noticeable emotion beyond the cold annoyance he treats most people with anyway.

Power(s) and Capabilities:
Arms Dealer: As stated, the full extent of Charon's abilities are not yet known. He has demonstrated thus far to be able to morph his arms into weapons, use his physiology to deploy black spikes from his body and even stretch his limbs to aid in navigating difficult terrain. It seems to limit itself to just his basic humanoid shape, but Charon seems to be able to generally twist and break his body to fit whatever situation he finds himself in.

Trail Of Death: One deviance from the above rule is that Charon can shift himself into a formless black ink-like substance, which moves around faster and can fit into tight spaces. Thankfully, usage of the implant within Charon seems to negate this from happening when the implant is activated.

Mark Of Torment: Charon is effectively immortal, he can be shot, stabbed, burned etc. And will reform himself after some time. The length this takes depending on the severity and conditions of how he died.

Power Limits:
Who Wants To Life Forever?: Charon's immortality isn't exactly an enjoyable one. In spite of his corpse appearance and lack of any discernible activity in his body, he still feels pain. It can take him some time to restructure himself, up to several months if his body were to be completely disintegrated. He himself has stated to be fully conscious during the process, which is not very pleasant. So while he could theoretically display much more reckless abandon in his fighting style, he generally likes to avoid fatal wounds if he can help it.

But A Man: Physically speaking, Charon doesn't have any special boons in terms of durability. He is capable of tanking punishment in spite of his agony out of sheer rage but he is as fragile as any other human being. Outside of his blob/biomass like form he is at as much risk as any of the guards, again, physically speaking. Charon is capable of inflicting high amounts of damage, but isn't very good at taking it.

Known Vulnerabilities:
Sounds Of Silence: Charon, or at least the twisted abomination that afflicts him, does not play with extremely high pitched piercing sounds. Things like bells and chimes are stated to give him a headache, but concentrated sonic emission at a high frequency can outright debilitate him. Charon himself describes it as feeling like a "drill on fire burning into [his] skull."

Justice Is Blind: A mental weakness. Charon is so obsessed with the concept of right and wrong, or at the very least the idea of punishment being inflicted on the guilty. That any sort of miscarriage of justice burns him deeply to the core. Whilst not exactly "stable", the idea that the asylum is limiting him from enacting permanent end to the criminals in and outside its walls absolutely infuriates Charon. Awareness of this and temperance of it with patience is one of the few ways Charon tries to keep himself from becoming as deranged as everyone else inside Project Borehole.

Implant X: An experimental little device that was at one point tested on the other patients, but never took physically. It was however, seemingly accepted by the biomass of Charon, much to his displeasure. He is almost the perfect candidate for it however as it essentially monitors who is and isn't Thornwood staff and inmates, if the subject with the implant attempts to do harm to either of these groups, they will feel a sharp constant pain in the back of their heads. Attempting to resist the agony and continue the attack anyway can cause an outright brain haemorrhage and subsequently death. Naturally this last part is something Charon can come back from but, as stated, isn't pleasant. On the plus side, the implant has enabled staff to restrict Charon less, as well as make him a bit less hostile to his fellow inmates... A bit.

Motives:
Justice.

Recommended Containment Procedures:
Subject's cell is to be constantly monitored for any crack or chink in the foundation, lest the subject attempt to escape through it. Subject's cell window must be sealed and carry several layers of glazing. While the subject has not seemed to need to eat and drink, they should still be given time each day to move around outside their cell, both for interaction with the general population (and possibly as a deterrent against the more violent inmates.)

When moving around, subject must have at least one guard monitoring his implant is working correctly, as well as be secured in reinforced cryonic cuffs to cover the hands and up to the shoulders in case of attempted reconstruction of the limbs. These can be removed in more quiet spaces when the subject is sat down but are mandatory in public spaces such as the cafeteria or yard.

Notes:
Eat your fruit and veg or the raggedy man'll kill ya dead.

Thornwood Asylum For The Criminal Insane- A Villain Roleplay.

Charon

Name:
John Doe (Only ever referred to as such on documentation. Staff, face-to-face, typically just call him Charon)

Known Aliases:
Charon, "The Raggedy Man"

Age:
Unknown, but visually somewhere in his early to mid 30's

Appearance:
Standing at an even six feet with toned musculature, Charon would well be the very picture of health were it not for everything else about him physically. Sunken eyes, pale skin, obvious veins along his arms and neck. Topping it off is unkempt black hair, dull gray eyes and a general "Stiffness" to his movements and mannerisms make Charon appear as a corpse that just left his own wake.

When using his abilities, Charon's body morphs and twists itself into whatever he may be forming at such time. Almost becoming a mockery of the human anatomy. Whilst it's hardly the most unsettling thing about him, Guards have noted that Charon never seems to blink.

Reference

Psyche Profile:

Patient Psychology

Subject is... A strange one. Which, considering the environment, is really saying something.

John Doe could almost be described as the model inmate. He has no records of violence or even disobedience towards staff, is quiet all hours of the day, complies with any and all pacification methods. About the worst he has ever done is be unwilling to divulge any details about his past life during profiling. This behaviour only ever extends to Asylum staff however. Towards fellow inmates...

Subject is immediately violent if precautions are not put in place. While never devolving into a screaming beast, the Subject will methodically tear apart anything in his path to try and reach his target. He has so far never killed any staff members (even saving one in a particular case, see Incident Report #5A), but several have been injured. Bizarrely, with his current limits and deterrents in place, he is willing to converse with fellow inmates, even coming off cordial and civil. But will still calmly explain that in no uncertain terms he would kill them violently if he were physically able.

Overall while the subject exhibits no special danger to anyone not obviously "Evil" and is capable of surprising self awareness, he is not to be treated as safe by any means. Exhibiting clear signs of megalomania, BPD and a warped sense of morality.

Background:

Background

There are many theories regarding the past of John Doe.

Former soldier? Given the way he operates and moves and his familiarity with basic close quarters and long ranged combat. A man wronged by the world? Given his definition for "justice" involves murdering corrupt politicians and public figures as much as it does super villains.

The staff at Thornwood guess often at this, but it amounts to little. Efforts to trace Charon's past before Charon have bore nothing of note. All he is now is all that needs to be known in any case. A brutal, brutal, vigilante with a habit for leaving behind incredibly disturbing crime scenes with his victims. A warning, so to speak. That for criminals, none of them are safe. While it is worrying that the state of the world has left many citizens agreeing if not outright supporting Charon's methods, including some of the Asylum's own guards, it is true that Charon has never claimed an "Innocent" life. Innocent by his own parameters anyway.

While cagey about his past life, Charon has divulged some aspects of how he came to be. He was a regular human being, his current condition the result of extensive genetic testing. Or torture, from another point of view. He claims the scientists who did this to him are long dead and that he still does not fully know the extent of his abilities, only that his powers and effective immortality were not the intended outcome from his captor. Charon gave no more information than this, presumably hoping our own scientists might figure out how to change or revert his condition. Sadly they haven't made much progress themselves as Charon is thus far an anomaly, after hearing of their lack of results, Charon hasn't had much else to say to them.

Skills, Talents and Learning:
In terms of practical skills, Charon has demonstrated to be at the least proficient with firearms and knives, though with his powers he rarely has need of these skills anymore. He is surprisingly articulate when need be but is also quiet and reserved. Many patients here enjoy tormenting each other mentally but, to our surprise, Charon has yet to rise to these barbs or pointed statements with any noticeable emotion beyond the cold annoyance he treats most people with anyway.

Power(s) and Capabilities:
Arms Dealer: As stated, the full extent of Charon's abilities are not yet known. He has demonstrated thus far to be able to morph his arms into weapons, use his physiology to deploy black spikes from his body and even stretch his limbs to aid in navigating difficult terrain. It seems to limit itself to just his basic humanoid shape, but Charon seems to be able to generally twist and break his body to fit whatever situation he finds himself in.

Trail Of Death: One deviance from the above rule is that Charon can shift himself into a formless black ink-like substance, which moves around faster and can fit into tight spaces. Thankfully, usage of the implant within Charon seems to negate this from happening when the implant is activated.

Mark Of Torment: Charon is effectively immortal, he can be shot, stabbed, burned etc. And will reform himself after some time. The length this takes depending on the severity and conditions of how he died.

Power Limits:
Who Wants To Life Forever?: Charon's immortality isn't exactly an enjoyable one. In spite of his corpse appearance and lack of any discernible activity in his body, he still feels pain. It can take him some time to restructure himself, up to several months if his body were to be completely disintegrated. He himself has stated to be fully conscious during the process, which is not very pleasant. So while he could theoretically display much more reckless abandon in his fighting style, he generally likes to avoid fatal wounds if he can help it.

But A Man: Physically speaking, Charon doesn't have any special boons in terms of durability. He is capable of tanking punishment in spite of his agony out of sheer rage but he is as fragile as any other human being. Outside of his blob/biomass like form he is at as much risk as any of the guards, again, physically speaking. Charon is capable of inflicting high amounts of damage, but isn't very good at taking it.

Known Vulnerabilities:
Sounds Of Silence: Charon, or at least the twisted abomination that afflicts him, does not play with extremely high pitched piercing sounds. Things like bells and chimes are stated to give him a headache, but concentrated sonic emission at a high frequency can outright debilitate him. Charon himself describes it as feeling like a "drill on fire burning into [his] skull."

Justice Is Blind: A mental weakness. Charon is so obsessed with the concept of right and wrong, or at the very least the idea of punishment being inflicted on the guilty. That any sort of miscarriage of justice burns him deeply to the core. Whilst not exactly "stable", the idea that the asylum is limiting him from enacting permanent end to the criminals in and outside its walls absolutely infuriates Charon. Awareness of this and temperance of it with patience is one of the few ways Charon tries to keep himself from becoming as deranged as everyone else inside Project Borehole.

Implant X: An experimental little device that was at one point tested on the other patients, but never took physically. It was however, seemingly accepted by the biomass of Charon, much to his displeasure. He is almost the perfect candidate for it however as it essentially monitors who is and isn't Thornwood staff and inmates, if the subject with the implant attempts to do harm to either of these groups, they will feel a sharp constant pain in the back of their heads. Attempting to resist the agony and continue the attack anyway can cause an outright brain haemorrhage and subsequently death. Naturally this last part is something Charon can come back from but, as stated, isn't pleasant. On the plus side, the implant has enabled staff to restrict Charon less, as well as make him a bit less hostile to his fellow inmates... A bit.

Motives:
Justice.

Recommended Containment Procedures:
Subject's cell is to be constantly monitored for any crack or chink in the foundation, lest the subject attempt to escape through it. Subject's cell window must be sealed and carry several layers of glazing. While the subject has not seemed to need to eat and drink, they should still be given time each day to move around outside their cell, both for interaction with the general population (and possibly as a deterrent against the more violent inmates.)

When moving around, subject must have at least one guard monitoring his implant is working correctly, as well as be secured in reinforced cryonic cuffs to cover the hands and up to the shoulders in case of attempted reconstruction of the limbs. These can be removed in more quiet spaces when the subject is sat down but are mandatory in public spaces such as the cafeteria or yard.

Notes:
Eat your fruit and veg or the raggedy man'll kill ya dead.

Nomadic Odyssey: EX Fallen Virtue [Invite Only]

---

Gold City Financial District - Park Row

---

It could almost be described as pretty. Were it not for Voyt knowing exactly what went on in this part of town. The whistling birds and fluttering insects against fresh cut green grass was nothing more than an illusion. A cultured façade to distract from the kilometre long towers of the Financial District, where companies decided their own rules and regulations. Never were they pleasant.

For Voyt, he'd never actually been in the Financial District much. Though he certainly had clients there. Most were the spineless sort who liked to hide behind a middleman or a dead drop. Perhaps feeling that they could keep their hands clean if they did not interact with the mercenary directly. So long as they paid, that was irrelevant to Voyt. Though, it irritated him now as he'd had to plan out his route for his target by himself. The Riders didn't have much of a presence in the District, not that they should considering it was one of the few parts of Gold City that had regular policing and fast response times. So, as long as the gunslinger kept his head down, there should be no issues.

Not that he had the same amount of faith in Violet and the rest of MIRAGE...

'There.'

Voyt looked up at the building before him. Rather unimpressive, comparatively speaking. It was still more expensive than an average building anywhere else several times over.

SUNLIGHT SHIPPING

A private transportation firm that had handled the Power Stone as it was taken from Antarctica back to the States. It had caused unrest with the group that destroyed Oh-One at the time but the deal had only been that the company would deal with the stone's transportation and ascertain that it, in and of itself, posed no more threat to the population. Of course, the majority of the group still did not trust the arrangement, but if they wanted to play ball with the government and have any hope at having certain 'past offenses' overlooked. That was one of the conditions. They got it back regardless, assuaging fears somewhat.

But Voyt knew that greed ran deep in Gold City. If the company hadn't themselves placed some form of tracking or paper trail on the stone, they almost certainly did it for the highest bidder. Unfortunately for them, Voyt was not planning to negotiate.

He pulled the cigarette from out of his mouth and flicked it onto the pavement before stubbing it out with his boot.

It was time to start hunting.

---

Gold City - Breicen Apartment

---

”I guess if I had to explain it, it feels like the world’s been spinning without me for ages now. Only feels natural to catch up as fast as I can.”

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck and looked away for a moment. Regretting even bringing it up. He, perhaps more than anyone, knew exactly what she meant. Having watched his friends get their collective asses handed to them in Brazil, while all Lucas could do was stutter and cower. By the time he'd started to hone his ki, his potential and his 'heritage', Oh-One had been long beaten. Maybe if he'd been there things would've been different.

He wanted to empathize with her, to reinforce her feelings. Provide support the way he used to be able to do, better than anyone else.

"Yeah." He said quietly.

There was a silence that hung in the air. Not long enough to be awkward but enough for it to be noticed. Reverting back to laissez faire attitude as though nothing happened, Lucas opted to fill it.

"So!" He said, stretching and cracking his back into place. "Did you guys grab breakfast yet? Cause the other weekend I found a great pancake place tha-"

As Lucas took a step forward to, essentially strongarm the Breicens into taking him to a pancake diner he'd seen but couldn't afford, a critical error was made. Without his weight to hold it in place, the closet door swung open. Revealing the ill gotten gains of Miller and Breicen with empty pizza boxes, training weights, comic books, Beelz's casaba melon. On and on it seemed to go as it all spilled out in the floor. Lucas' eye twitched as he stared down at his hard work with a broken smile.

"It's on fifth and Adams..." He muttered through gritted teeth.

Nomadic Odyssey: EX Fallen Virtue [Invite Only]

---

Somewhere Else...

---

The dreams came first.

Strange dreams. Twisted and bleak. Half remembered scenes of sorrow and regret best left forgotten. Somewhere, there is the sound of liquid running gently through a pipe and cars gliding across the asphalt.

From underneath there are the sounds of someone else. A man and a woman. But, how can the void have a voice?

Their words are unclear, like the mumbled sounds of someone submerged in water. Their voices fade as flickers of memories will their way in and out of existence. Or perhaps they are nightmares. The shadow of a hulking man in armour, a lone soldier surrounded by comrades dressed like and as emotionless as he, the mourning love of a family gone forever. This is not real.

This is not real.

Hundreds upon hundreds of shadowy figures pointing a single finger directly at the accused. There is so much blood unspoken. Rivers of it. Enough to wash the oceans crimson.

Adam Vrbata looks at himself in a mirror. Sees the skin crack and fall off his face, the side of his mouth contort into a hideous grimace, the whites of his eyes turn black and gray. And he screams in despair.

'I am Cain.'

---

Gold City - Alleyway

---

Cain's eyes snap open as his hands reach up to his neck, wrapping around the handle of the blade jammed in the centre of his throat and slowly pulling the steel from out of his body.

"Jesus christ!" The man exclaimed as he stumbled backwards. His partner, a woman dressed in the same ripped and strewn together clothing as he, merely stood with her mouth agape as the man who they had stabbed rose back up to his feet in under a minute.

"I thought he wasn't a Nomad!?" The woman spat out, her fear giving way to anger. Things were going well until the Raggedy Man appeared. Her friends lay dead and thrown around the alleyway, their mark had long since fled their clutches. They had been surprised when they managed to get close enough to impale him through the neck. Initially they believed him to be a Nomad, but Gold City's boogeyman went down like an average human. At least momentarily.

"To hell with this!" The man yelled as he sprinted away. His only weapon had just been pulled out by The Raggedy Man, he was in no position to try his luck again.

For her part, the woman merely snarled. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a rusty looking switchblade. The Raggedy Man was approaching with a calm walk, she met him with a charge.

The man heard the scream of his partner as he reached the door to the building at the end of the alley. He collided into it with his shoulder, thanking whatever powers were watching him that it opened in a cloud of dust. He stumbled into the building and pushed the door shut once again with all his might. There would be no time to catch his breath as he began ascending the stairs, his eyes planted on the ground to keep his footing in the darkness of the apartment complex.

As he ascended the upper lengths he heard the sound of glass shattering beneath him and let out a yelp. Quickening his pace only to trip on the edge of the flight of stairs and plunge himself into the darkness of the hall. He coughed as the dust flew up around him and sunk itself into his skin and clothing. He found himself temporarily dazed before coming to his senses and trying to force himself back to his feet only for another crash to send him off course and stumbling back on to the floor.

"P-please..." He stammered out to the figure in the darkness, holding up one hand defensively as he crawled back deeper into the hallway. "W-we just wanted the money! Didn't... Didn't want to hurt anybody. I-I-I-..."

Fear had overtaken him as he continued trying to bargain fruitlessly with the figure in the shadows. His body met the wall and with nowhere to move he merely lay, shaking with his hand still held against the figure. A hand reached out and covered his mouth, suppressing the man's yell.

"Tell everyone what happened to your friends." Cain spoke, leaning forward and revealing his scarred face to the terrified thug. "How they were ripped apart. How they bled. Then leave this city."

The man whimpered as Cain held up his free hand, slowly shifting it from a regular appendage into a curved blade.

"Can't let you go unscathed. No one will believe you otherwise."

The man's screams echoed throughout the building as Cain drew his blade closer to his face.

---

Gold City - Breicen Apartment

---

”And, uhhh, she let me drive again.” Jasmine said sheepishly.

”Yeah, kid, I think he heard! Didn’t ya, bud?” Beelzebub gave another cackle before he gave Lucas an expectant glance.

"The Tokyo drift outside?" His concern about the closet's contents melted as he gave Beelzebub a slight smile. "Nah, must've missed it."

He folded his arms and continued to lean "casually" against the closet while his attention shifted to Jasmine.

"Why're you learnin' to drive anyway?" He asked, cocking his head to the side quizzically. "Can't you, like, fly around on a broom? Or skateboard?... Or walk?"

Normally Lucas was pretty devil may care about most things, especially since part of his training regime was to sprint to most places. But the last time he'd been in a car with Jasmine she'd nearly parked them up a tree. He loved a good challenge but Jas' driving skills was one he wasn't wholly confident he could beat.

"Uhh, glad the PT went well though." He added quickly, trying to spare his friend's feelings on her lack of vehicular ability.

"Y'sure you're all good to use the gadgets and doodads again?" He asked, a slight tinge of concern on his voice that was these days only really reserved for the Breicens and occasionally his father. Jill was stubborn and had insisted on the odd sparring session while she was recovering, the first few... Weren't pretty. But slowly but surely she got her mojo back, he still couldn't say if that meant she should be jumping off roofs on her bike shouting "Henshin!" anytime soon.

"Like they got a buncha those Justice dumba- guys. Right? Shit, if I was gettin' paid time off I'd take all I could get." The issue had shifted slightly as Lucas began daydreaming in his head about being able to get paid not to work at the fucking convenience store, instead being able to get caught up on all the pro wrestling he'd recorded on the TiVO.

Pit Stop floated towards Lucas and hovered slightly. It took a moment to realise he was not looking at Lucas, but rather past him at the closet. A look of worry flashed over Lucas as he looked at the floating potential tattletail.

"Stop, man." he hissed.

Neon Rainbow: Royals of Miami (Crime/Gang story satire with a neon aesthetic)

i gotta get a fuckin hobby or somethin man. interested

Nomadic Odyssey: EX Fallen Virtue [Invite Only]

---

???

---

---

We Are Finally Cowboys

---

"Alright, alright, Junior. You must be confused, let King Shit bring ya up to speed."

The door dramatically flies off its hinges from a kick, courtesy of Lucas Miller as he begins laying waste to droves of MIRAGE troopers. Sending one flying with a back-fist before grabbing him by the legs and spinning him around to take out everyone in the room. As though appearing in some kind of ad campaign, we slow and zoom in on Lucas' face, where he turns directly to the camera and winks.

"I used to be a real loser."

Lucas, much younger and skinnier, is crawling through some sort of pipeline frantically with the World Martial Arts Tournament logo displayed on the lower left corner. The sharpened end of SYM-04's tail bursts through the pipe and barely misses Lucas' face causing him to yelp, he shifts his body back and forth at lightning speed to dodge the following strike attempts from SYM-04's tail.

"But I got... Kind of a wake up call."

Lucas, watching forlornly at the TV screen displaying Oh-One attacking the Nomads in Brazil.

"Ya can't let yourself sit on the sidelines forever, man. I saw my friends get their asses kicked, found out my dad wasn't my real dad, learned I got a real freaky bloodline.... All of it got a little too much."

Lucas, awkwardly standing in front of his father who, after hesitating, gives his son a hug and waves him off as Lucas gets into a taxi.

"I went all the way to Japan."

Lucas, bowing to Hatanaka Yoko at the Yoko dojo. The scene illuminated by the setting sun cloaking both figures in shadow.

"Kicked some ass."

Lucas, having his stance form corrected by Yoko letting out an annoyed "oy!" as she strikes the top of his head with her stick.

"Kicked. Some. Ass!"

Lucas, spitting out a mouthful of blood and charging forward like a crazed animal toward his monk opponent, gracefully sliding under his kick attempt before shooting upwards while grabbing the monk around the waist. Bringing him back down by slamming him hard onto the floor. He looks upwards with his eyes glazed over and his chest rising and falling, Yoko gives him a small nod.

"Came back home..."

Lucas, suplexing another Nomad repeatedly around the arena.

"...Refined my style..."

Lucas, throwing a devastating roundhouse kick at another opponent sending him spinning into the air.

"...Kicked some more ass..."

Lucas, letting out a primal yell as he grabs an opponent several times larger than him around the neck and lifts him up to deliver a powerbomb, creating a shockwave on the ground when he lands.

"...Kicked... A lot of ass, actually."

Lucas, flash cutting to him delivering a devastating strike on just about every major villain known to the world all while mugging for the camera.

"Cuz when it's all said 'n done. No matter what life throws at me, no matter how many times I get hit..."

Lucas, being blasted by OH-One's laser, held up by his throat by SYM-04, slammed to the floor by Yoko and knocked to the ground by nearly all his friends and enemies.

"...I always get back up."

Lucas, getting back to his knees and wiping away the blood from his mouth with a smirk.

"I'm one in a million, baby."

Lucas, being held up on the shoulders of just about everyone in the cast, all chanting his name and cheering. Jasmine Breicen reaches up from the crowd to pull Lucas into a hug, he stays facing the perceived camera with the same shit eating grin.

"The Tiger of Gold City."

Lucas winks.

---

Gold City - Breicen Penthouse Apartment

---

SKKKKKKKKRRRT

Lucas awakened from his slumber to the sound of a car screeching violently across the asphalt outside. This would not normally be something to rouse him up where it not for the fact he was at the top of a modestly sized apartment complex so a sound of that magnitude logically shouldn't reach him. He grumbled slightly as he felt the drool from the side of his mouth drop onto the top of his shirt, he wiped it off before rubbing his eyes and seating himself upright on the Breicen couch. Not bad by couch standards but still sleeping on a couch. He shambled over towards the window to investigate which idiot totalled their car so much he heard it all the way up here, only for his eyes to snap open in alert.

Jill and Jasmine sat in the vehicle outside, he couldn't make out their expressions from here but if you saw them once it really wasn't hard to pick either of them out in a crowd. He turned back to face the apartment and was greeted with the mess he'd made during his tenure "house sitting" while Jill was undergoing physical therapy. Dirty clothes strewn in the most random of places, leaning tower of pizza boxes, magazines, broken boards from that short time Lucas was really into breaking wood with karate chops, weights, general shit the recently awakened Lucas couldn't even categorise.

"Fuck."

Now fully awake and with the window open, he could hear the car doors open and slam shut outside as he rushed forwards and began frantically picking up anything that did not match the tasteful decor of the Breicen accommodations. He began stacking clothes in his arms like some deranged fabric based form of Tetris. Charging forward to the kitchen where the wash basket lay in wait only to trip on an unfortunately laid skateboard and toss all of the clothes up in the air where they floated mockingly back down to their original positions on the floor.

"I hate my life!" Lucas yelled indignantly from the ground. He lay there in frustration for a few seconds before the ding of an elevator snapped him back into his senses. He darted around in panic, sweat forming on his brow as his breath hastened, looking back and forth in terror as the footsteps to the door grew closer.

And closer.

And closer...

---

The door knob turned as Jill and Jasmine entered their apartment, greeted with the sight of the living room in spotless condition. Albeit, some of the pillows out of place and some magazines strewn on the coffee table, but otherwise it looked like something out of a home catalogue. Lucas greeted them, leaning against the doors of the closet with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Hey-o." He said casually. "What've you two been up to?"

---

Gold City - Rooftops

---

He dropped down with the grace and poise you wouldn't expect of someone not using the same tech as the rest of MIRAGE's faceless goons. He stood out, even among his "compatriots". Preferring to let his own gear work for him as opposed to anything MIRAGE could offer, no matter how high tech.

On one hand large jobs like this irritated Voyt. Best to just let him loose, get the required information and package and get out rather than sending in several goons all with the same objective. Much higher chance of someone screwing up and compromising everyone else. But, on the other hand, Voyt was getting sick of watching Abel stand wordlessly in front of the window overlooking the city. He had many employers who liked giving longwinded speeches about their goals and ambitions, but Abel was somehow more annoying as he preferred to stoically and vaguely overlook each part of his operation. As though a part in a giant jigsaw puzzle only he had the capacity to understand. Leaving that ship at all certainly beat spending any more time with him and Violet.

Voyt removed his helmet and mask, placing it in a standard duffel bag which he dropped to the ground. He then removed his ballistic vest, poncho etc. to reveal the plain civilian garb underneath. He still looked somewhat shady and god help he run into any kind of Justice Rider and other such do-gooder who meticulously remembered every criminal's detail, but the average citizen would only know him by the mask and the western get-up. To them, he was just an angry looking out of towner.

He placed a cigarette in his mouth and walked towards the corner of the building's roof, dropping his bag to the ground with a thud. Placing a boot on the building's edge, Voyt looked out into the city with his eyes squinted. By his assessment most of the MIRAGE group, probably including Violet, would be taking either the tactless approach of shaking down anyone for information or outright asking everyone where the power stone was. Voyt knew that the group who took down Oh-One were tight knit. Not one of 'em was going to roll on where the stone was kept no matter what he did to them. But... There was always an arm to wrench, always someone whose lips were a little bit looser than others, who might have less to gain and less reason to stick their neck out for everyone else. It was time to find and pay them a little visit.

Voyt took a step back and ran forward, jumping across to the other rooftop. Towards his next target.

Nomadic Odyssey: EX Fallen Virtue [Invite Only]

Lucas Miller

"Let's dance, baby!"

"Yo, help me out here. Who's the strongest of these Nomad dudes?" _____________________________________________________ NAME: Lucas Tony Miller _______________________________________________ EPITHET: The Awakened Tiger _______________________________________________ AGE: 20 _______________________________________________ PRONOUNS: He/Him _______________________________________________ HEIGHT: 5'11 _______________________________________________ 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

^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

OVERVIEW

"Man! Fighting your own kind! Nothin' like it."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

APPEARANCE

"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, Junior! Number one here I come!"
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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.

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.

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.

BACKSTORY

"Come on man, you writing a book?"
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

Lucas Miller could, charitably, be considered the joke character among the notable people both trained fighter and not. A shy, timid, stuttering and under-confident youth effectively dragged into the Nomad lifestyle from his overbearing father "Showtime" Perry Miller. In spite of this, Lucas had something resembling potential, namely his well meaning nature granting him unlikely friendships and his untapped reserve of ki. There was another, much less obvious, aspect that Lucas had going for him. As he would later discover during the initial attack from Oh-One in Brazil, Lucas was born not as a mortal but a half-demon. His 'father' Perry was merely the latest fling of his disappeared mother. Lucas was an unknown pregnancy from his mother's meeting with a certain demon known as Rosier LeVai.

This information either awoke or broke something within Lucas. His life, while painful humiliating and often unwanted, was never complicated. He knew who he was and where he stood even if he didn't necessarily care for it. The realisation seemed to enforce to Lucas that he was more alone than previously thought, sparking several notable changes in his character. Namely that his stutter seemed to fade away and his meek but ultimately kind manner blunted and shifted to one more belligerent and even aggressive depending on the person. As the main, strong and respected heroes followed Oh-One, Lucas quietly left for Japan to train with the legendary Yokos. Finally having the desire to fight and honing his skills.

The training was torturous and seemingly endless but with each day Lucas shed bad habits and unlocked a new layer in his potential, though he kept his heritage close to his chest. His quick progress did not make him ready in time to face Oh-One in Antarctica however, he watched the mechanical monstrosity be defeated, barely, in a smoky tavern in the nearby village on TV. Silently angry at himself for not being there and the lengths his friends went to in order to vanquish the machine. His resolve did not waver however and Lucas continued to devote himself to training, though he took better care to send letters to his friends either congratulating them or wishing them a speedy recovery. Notably, he only ever sent one letter to his father Perry, merely letting him know he was doing fine and a projected time on when he'd be back.

The training seemed to both help and hinder Lucas as he boarded the plane to return to the States. On one hand he was at least more jovial, still not taking himself or anyone else all that seriously but with a far greater degree of self confidence but it coupled this with a sharp degree in arrogance and did nothing to remove his ever growing violent tendencies and thrill for a fight, nor did it aid the conflict and inner turmoil Lucas continued to feel.

Instead of returning to his home in Philadelphia, Lucas instead took the flight to Gold City where he resides currently. Paying rent and living with his friends the Breicen sisters the recently recovered Jill and Jasmine, whom Lucas has quietly had a crush on for over a year now. There were also a few... More than awkward, meetings with his biological parent Rosier and his half-brother Isabella. Lucas kept his father Perry in the loop of all this sans the fact that his biological parent lived in the same city as him but their interactions were stilted and forced. Another wedge driven between Lucas and someone close to him, for all his faults.

At present, despite his astronomical leap in strength, Lucas has pretty much been taking it easy since returning to the U.S. Keeping the apartment clean while Jill finished the last of her physical therapy and paying the rent via his job at the Tomato Convenience Store and competing in the nearby fighting tournaments where he routinely slaughters the competition. Only serving to further Lucas' spaced out and unmotivated worldview, but when news of Brooklyn Vanburen's disappearance reaches him, Lucas quite possibly finally finds a way to make up for not being there to stop Oh-One, and the possibility for him to finally cut loose.

Could be a fun ride, could totally suck. So what is he to say? Let's see how far we can take this!

FIGHTING STYLE & ABILITIES

"Skills, ki, demon blood and watching wrestling videos till the fuckin' tape wore out."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

SKILLS & ABILITIES

"Your lil hooks and jabs are all kid's games. When you step to me, your arms are too damn 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

"Fuckhead!"
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 Dark 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 position.

■ 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

"I LIVE FOR THIS SHIT! I'm absolutely CRAZY about it!"
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

"Vein's are burnin' red..."
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.

SUPER MOVES

"Jackpot!"
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

■ Face//Off

"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 Trigger

"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's 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, leg's cramping 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 punishment. 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 while it charges, or Face//Off which as a super, 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 precision 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 when he needs them until he gets his head back in the game.

OTHER

"Ok dude, we're done. For real."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

■ 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.

■ Lucas has somewhat created his own prophecy. Proclaiming that on the day he meets his greatest opponent he will let loose his headband and engage in the greatest fight the world has ever seen. Jasmine just thinks he stole this from a movie.

■ Lucas is pretty camera shy, recording him with a video camera is one of the very few instances where his stutter returns.

Voyt The Gunslinger

"...Hrn."

"If you're gonna shoot, shoot. Don't talk." _____________________________________________________ NAME: Voyt _______________________________________________ EPITHET: The Last Outlaw _______________________________________________ AGE: Unknown _______________________________________________ PRONOUNS: He/Him _______________________________________________ HEIGHT: 6'1 _______________________________________________ WEIGHT: 190lbs _______________________________________________ NATIONALITY: Unknown _______________________________________________ LIKES: Guns, Money, Writing, Westerns _______________________________________________ DISLIKES: Dirty Guns, Loudmouths, Wasting Time, You, Possibly Everything Else

^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

OVERVIEW

"It's just money, nothin' personal."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

APPEARANCE

"I'm your huckleberry."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

Voyt casts an unwelcoming and quiet figure, 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 stetson 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.

PERSONALITY TRAITS

"Pay me."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

Voyt is a professional to an almost robotic degree, rarely holding any personal ill feelings towards his targets or even expressing much emotion in his face and voice even when, by his own admission, someone has pissed him off. All of this extends to him on the job however where he is not more beyond a machine seeking to eliminate his target and then be on his way, how he is outside of his job is... Harder to pin down. Those that "know" Voyt could probably sum him up as quiet, prickly and antisocial, often keeping to himself and displaying nothing but cold clinical indifference to both his allies and enemies. But inwardly Voyt is somewhat conflicted, knowing he can't really blame his actions on his past and at times even wondering about the possibility of things being different in another time. He is even capable of genuine altruism and kindness though hardly open about it, one of these such acts being what led to his spat with The League Of Bounty Hunters and necessitating his allying with MIRAGE.

Otherwise the only humanising trait of his known to people is his deadpan sarcastic delivery towards the insanity someone like him often encounters.

BACKSTORY

"The story's 'bout as uninterestin' as anyone else's."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

Subject Thirteen 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 and reclaim their lost status. 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 twelve 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, shotguns and other Old West based weaponry. Their creation was unfeasible when attempting to create a fully grown adult, so instead they created an infant, monitoring his hastened life every step of the way to ensure he displayed the aptitude they desired until his ageing slowed when he matured, he excelled past their expectations. They fostered their subject's 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 opportunity 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 younger 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 using only his guns and guile, 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 or growing beyond the purpose for which he was created. 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... 'heated' 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

"Bullseye."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

SKILLS & ABILITIES

"You'd best shut up and draw."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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 customised 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 utilises 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 to strike with or for explosive finishes to his combos. As an experienced hitman, Voyt can analyse 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

"You're in over your head."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

■ Happiness Is A Warm Gun

"Can you smell the cordite?"
Voyt stuns the opponent, slamming the butt of his revolver into their neck before sweeping their legs out from under them. He pins the opponent down with his boot on their chest before unloading both revolvers near twenty times into their face.

■ Two-Step Goodbye

"Try an' follow me."
Voyt pirouettes while firing, sending a tornado of bullets in all directions to deal with more mobile foes or those who can teleport around. Voyt can perform an airborne variant which involves Voyt spinning down headfirst to the floor while firing his guns and landing crouched at the last second.

■ Blow 'Er Up

"Catch."
Voyt tosses a stick of dynamite into the hands of an opponent and quickly shoots it, the resulting explosion sending an opponent flying into the air. (The explosion sends Voyt's hat flying off which he grabs out the air and places back on as the opponent comes to their senses)

■ Money Shot

"Heads or tails?"
Voyt throws a coin into the air past the opponent and fires it causing the bullet to ricochet off and hit the opponent in the back, breaking possible guards and sending them tumbling slightly forward for a possible follow up attack.

■ Lock 'N Load

"Draw..."
Voyt enters a quick-draw stance and parries any projectiles thrown his way by shooting them out of the air, this stance ends when Voyt starts to move again.

■ Deadman's Hand

"Ready to eat lead?"
Voyt imbues his ki into his weapons (typically his revolvers), for red kinetic charged shots but he can imbue any thrown object with the same damaging kinetic energy, enhancing his shots for increased damage and knockback but slower rate of fire.

■ On The House

"Happy trails."
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 a couple seconds later, rolling to the floor from the air but can use Two-Step Goodbye on the way down to deliver a volley of gunfire from above.

■ Walk 'Em Down

"Run for cover, Cowpoke."
Voyt unloads a barrage of gunfire from his shotgun while slowly walking his target down. While it's 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

"Predictable."
Forgoing his typical style, Voyt rushes an opponent and delivers a savage dropkick to the chest, launching himself into the air with a back-flip. He is able to use Two-Step Goodbye when falling back to the ground.

■ Walk It Off

"Don't blink."
Voyt seemingly fires a single shot before holstering his weapon again, if it connects the opponent will recoil slightly before suddenly being shot several times in the chest as though being hit by an assault rifle. Voyt tips his hat as they fall to the ground or are knocked several feet backwards.

■ Ace High

"Feel lucky, punk?"
Voyt rolls a stick of dynamite under his opponent and shoots at it, sending them upwards into the air where he unloads on them with further gunfire before letting them fall back to the floor.

SUPER MOVES

"I never miss."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

■ Hard Boiled

"Never see it comin'."
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 untouchable as he nonchalantly dodges every move thrown at him unless he is being extraordinarily careless or somehow trapped.

■ Cash Out

"'Nother name off my list."
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 are able to tear through buildings and people alike. Voyt being damaged can knock him out of this move early

■ One Bullet

"Bang..."
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 burn into the side as the bullet wreathes itself in a large red and white 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 Voyt loses the will to control it further, it will travel for several more feet in whatever direction it was facing before burning out, still ripping right through all in its path.

WEAKNESSES & LIMITS

"Hrn. Body's not holdin' up so well these days."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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

"Away with you."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

■ Voyt regularly keeps a journal, sometimes locking himself away for hours or even days to fill it in.

■ Voyt being possibly the least talkative member of the cast, aside from those that physically can't speak, has led to him being misidentified by clients several times as a mute. Much to his chagrin.

■ Voyt is evasive about where his desire to actively emulate old west gunslingers actually came from. Considering almost no one knows about his origins (save those that can identify his artificial nature) they just assume it's a style choice.

■ Voyt has rejected five separate interview attempts from SHINING

Cain

"I was Adam Vrbata. I will never be again."

"An instrument of justice." _____________________________________________________ NAME: Cain (FKA: Adam Vrbata) _______________________________________________ EPITHET: The Tortured Remnant _______________________________________________ AGE: 32 (AOD) _______________________________________________ PRONOUNS: He/Him _______________________________________________ HEIGHT: 6'3 _______________________________________________ WEIGHT: 162lbs _______________________________________________ NATIONALITY: Czech _______________________________________________ LIKES: Justice, Kindness, Humility, 80's Rock _______________________________________________ DISLIKES: MIRAGE, Abel, Criminals, Himself

^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

OVERVIEW

"There are worse things than dying. I awake each morning and want it. Hope for it."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

APPEARANCE

"All my sins. On display."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

Cain, to put it politely, immediately resembles a corpse prepared for burial that up and walked out of the casket. Cain’s build is emaciated and his skin is borderline chalk white, along with dark bags under his eyes and long messy black hair adding to his wraithlike appearance. His face carries numerous blackened scars along with a particularly nasty gash along the left side of his mouth exposing his teeth and jaw underneath and giving him a permanent 'grimace'. These scars and markings are far more prevalent around his body which is part of the reason he often wears long coats when travelling outside.

Cain’s attire is relatively simple. Dark grey hoodie under a dark brown trenchcoat, the hood raised to cover his face when out in public. Dark grey combat fatigues and black combat boots complete with shin guards no doubt part of his old uniform in MIRAGE completing the look.

PERSONALITY TRAITS

"People don't change. Times do."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

In spite of his unsettling reputation, look and abilities, Cain himself is often quiet and polite. Even bordering on friendly towards those he's close with. The real point of contention however is his tendency to act as something of judge jury and executioner in regards to any criminal, corporate or otherwise, Cain encounters during his tracking of MIRAGE. Unlike his ally Jill, Cain is unaffiliated with any group, and unlike the rest of his allies, Cain is still very much active outside of trivial things like tournaments, making him technically more of a vigilante than a Nomad. He takes pride in what he does, for better and for worse, in his mind no one who hasn't deserved it has died by his hand but when he decides someone does deserve it, it is nigh impossible to stay his hand.

The other major point of contention is his disgust for all things relating to MIRAGE, MAVERICK included. Since after Oh-One, most of his friends are trying to move on with their lives and keep their heads down, Cain technically works alone and is often the most anti-social of the group. Though he has enough loyalty to them all to come to their aid should they figure out a way to actually contact him.

In general, his revelations of himself and MIRAGE have ruined and warped many pieces of Cain's ideology. Though well meaning, he is too obsessed with avoiding "half measures" and of course with stopping MIRAGE. His former optimism, while still making him approve of benevolent actions and kindness, has shed itself. One could even make the argument that he's not really all that different from how he was while being manipulated in MIRAGE, still carrying an extreme "ends justify the means" mentality. Something not all that dissimilar to Abel...

BACKSTORY

"Most people believe true torture is pain, but the reality is, it's time."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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 horizon. 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.

Living mostly as a vagrant in the intervening years after his change, Adam drifted from place to place merely trying to forget his own existence, however in Brazil when the mechanical monster Oh-One threatened the destruction of all life, Adam could not hold himself to his passive existence any longer. Stewing in hatred towards Abel and the injustices Adam allowed himself to commit, he took on the name Cain and aided the various nomads in tracking and stopping Oh-One. After vanquishing him, Cain was in favour of destroying the power stone somehow but was placated enough by the idea of it remaining in the hands of someone trusted as opposed to any groups such as MAVERICK.

Since then, Cain has largely had little to no contact with any of the other Nomads he fought with, mostly sticking to the shadows and searching to uncover information on MIRAGE wherever he can. As well as taking the law into his own hands as a notoriously brutal and feared vigilante. His string of murders eventually reaches Gold City, where he hears news of the sudden disappearance of Brooklyn Van Buren...

FIGHTING STYLE & ABILITIES

"Run. And I will catch you. Hide. And I will find you."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

SKILLS & ABILITIES

"I know what I am."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

Once a soldier trained in rifles, automatic weapons and close quarters combat, Cain has long since disbanded his old skillset in favour of his new one. Cain is, in many ways, a living ghost. His body can reconstitute itself after a time from fatal injuries even from being crushed or disintegrated to nothing, though this will take longer for him to resurrect, none the less he will always come 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 pummelling 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

"I'm not going to let you die. Dying is easy. I'm going to teach you pain."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

■ The Shadow Over Nomads

"Forward."
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

"This hurts you."
Cain’s arm morphs into a long pointed spear which he thrusts outward several feet towards the opponent, if it connects he’ll plunge the end into the opponent’s stomach and hold them aloft for a moment before slamming them into the ground.

■ The Nature Of A Man

"From the ashes."
Dark smoke clouds circle around Cain, slowly healing his injuries and damage taken. Though his original scarring will always remain. Cain can only walk while this mode is active.

■ As One

"Get over here."
Cain's arm flies forward in a tentacle like fashion, disembodied into an ashy stream with a curved spike protruding at the end. If it connects, it will stab into the opponent and yank them towards Cain, opening them up for a free combo.

■ Every Night & Every Morn

"Begone."
Cain hunches over, causing shadowy spikes similar to that of a Porcupine to suddenly shoot and protrude out from him, damaging

■ As Above/So Below

"Nowhere to run."
Cain breaks his body apart into ashes, flying either above the opponent and dropping down with a falling stomp or shifting beneath them and launching upwards with an uppercut.

■ The MIRAGE Horror

"Excessive sorrow laughs."
Cain’s fingers extend and sharpen into claws, he gets a short burst of speed enabling him to close distances much faster and do greater damage with his swipes.

■ The Whisperer In Darkness

"Die!"
Extending his arm into a whip like appendage Cain spins forward sending it cracking against the floor before bringing it down repeatedly faster and more aggressive with each slam.

■ All Is Dust

"Boj se mě."
Cain moves at a much faster rate, dashing into shadowy ash with each step. While in this mode Cain can run up walls or even move across ceilings. Being hit at the right time will knock Cain out of this mode earlier.

SUPER MOVES

"Burn."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

■ Haunter Of The Dark

"Look into my eyes."
Cain slams the palm of his hand into an opponent's face and pulls them forward, using his strange anatomy to meld his perception of reality with theirs. Sending their senses haywire and causing them to see a warped version of Cain's already warped view of the world and making them hallucinate all manner of strangeness. Most commonly the idea of being attacked by several different Cains at once or complete inversion of their movements. This effect will wear off differently for opponents depending on their will and mental state at the time.

■ The Beast In Me

"Už nikdy víc."
A pair of inky black hands sprout from out of Cain's mouth and splits his body into itself as he grows and twists into a giant jet black monstrosity. Similar in shape to a Golem the size of a double-decker bus, Cain regresses into a beast with his attacks lacking much nuance but being nigh unblockable and destructively powerful. The Beast can leap great distances and has enough presence of mind to use objects such as cars as weapons and to stay its hand against allies. After a few minutes or from sustaining a sufficient amount of damage, The Beast will begin to break apart before dissolving into ash which flies off with the wind, destroying Cain's body for the time being.

■ Mark Of Cain

"Potrestat!"
An ashy yet stark white vortex swirls around Cain’s body. If he is attacked, the damage will reflect back on to the attacker seven-fold, making this ability lethal if an opponent is unaware of that fact. Cain moves slower while this is active but is still capable of attacking and dealing damage, after a couple of minutes however the vortex will consume and disintegrate Cain's body.

WEAKNESSES & LIMITS

"I feel myself slipping away."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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 wraith-like nature but his limbs and body can be torn apart as easily as any other normal human. Additionally, two of Cain’s supers kill him, both of which also fully destroy his body which can take several days before he fully restructures himself to fight again.

Mentally too, in spite of Cain's normally reserved demeanour, he can become downright bloodthirsty in a fight. It is much more pronounced if the person he is fighting is one he takes issue with morally or is related to MIRAGE, meaning though his attacks may be more damaging or downright sadistic, he is more prone to being outwitted or outplayed due to not thinking clearly.

OTHER

"People don't forget. Nothing gets forgiven."
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

■ Enemy and ally alike have noted Cain's stilted and often overly formal manner of speaking. While it adds to Cain's aura overall, the truth is English is not his first language and he's merely not comfortable enough speaking it to use it in a more casual manner. Not that he'll tell anybody that.

■ Despite his hatred for MIRAGE and Abel, 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. While his hearing is relatively normal, he has difficulties with smell and can no longer taste. His sight often struggles to pick up bright colours which typically defaults into some blurry form of gray. He cannot even feel differences of temperature on his 'skin' regardless of how extreme it may be.

---

Winquotes

Lucas Miller

Lucas Miller: "I swear if I have *another* unknown brother I'm gonna lose it!"
Justin Haggar: "Maybe you should go get another bounty on your head? Think you might've gone soft."
Oh-Seven: "All the tech in the world ain't always enough. Ya gotta feed off that adrenaline!"
Jaden Raldo: "Glad that shut you up! Bugs the crap outta me when someone talks more than I do."
Oh-One: "Another loss. One of these days ya gotta learn, Tincan."
Violet: "Don't get to enjoy fights where the other dude's just tryin' to kill ya often, thanks!"
Abel: "Not bad! Pretty decent fight. 'Bout freakin' time..."
Chung Yeong-suk: "Last thing I need anymore is your help. I don't need anybody."
Lucie Bardot: "All MAVERICK's are bastards, Junior."
Voyt: "Quote me on this, Cowboy. You got your ass kicked!"
Cain: "Hope that beating gave you some clarity. You gotta mellow out, Junior!"
Jill Breicen: "Come on, Jillian. I know you didn't spend all that time in PT writin' your memoirs!"
Jasmine Breicen: "Heh, time to hit the weights pretty lady. Looks like I win this one."
Isabella Levai: "Guess all that demon power really is a buncha bullshit."
Rosier Levai: "Just one big heartwarming family reunion..."
Daren Metzger: "Honestly, Junior. Just retire. You're enough of a freak and still crazy weak."
Apinya Sichantha: "Hey, keep your head up, Junior. We all gotta start somewhere."

Voyt

Voyt: "Another product of the lab. Glad to put you down."
Justin Haggar: "Don't matter how many upgrades you get. You still can't beat me."
Oh-Seven: "No bounty in beating you. Getting scrapped here was your own fault."
Jaden Raldo: "Sellin' that sword's more dignified for it than it stayin' with you."
Oh-One: "Got a bullet for every time you come back."
Violet: "Thank our 'boss' that I'm only leavin' you mostly dead."
Abel: "Excellent speech, Director of MIRAGE. Or is it, ex-Director?"
Chung Yeong-suk: "If your country ever decides to get serious, they might consider outsourcin' to a professional."
Lucie Bardot: "Ain't no heroes in war. Remember that."
Lucas Miller: "All that bluster just shows how scared you still are."
Cain: "You'll be back. Maybe this fight beat a lil humility into you at least."
Jill Breicen: "Have fun in the editing room tryin' to make that beating look good for you."
Jasmine Breicen: "You ain't in your friend's league. And you sure as hell ain't in mine."
Isabella Levai: "Don't reckon you've got many more body parts left you can afford to lose."
Rosier Levai: "Immortality means you ain't got survival instinct. Could fight you a hundred times without losin'."
Daren Metzger: "Save it for the professionals. Drag what's left of ya back to Frontiers."
Apinya Sichantha: "Don't punch 'bove your weight again. Next time I won't be so forgivin'."

Cain

Cain: "A new incarnation? Or something more sinister..."
Justin Haggar: "Your skills improve, but this victory is mine."
Oh-Seven: "Your shooting is not usually this sloppy. Do not hold back when the real fighting begins."
Jaden Raldo: "Arrogance is the mask of the coward."
Oh-One: "You have only so many copies. I do not."
Violet: "I had hoped to try and redeem you. But it seems you are beyond saving."
Abel: "Justice."
Chung Yeong-suk: "This was a warning. Cease your espionage, lest I force you."
Lucie Bardot: "You are being lied to. By yourself most of all."
Lucas Miller: "You are still holding back. It will catch up with you, eventually."
Voyt: "Mercenary. The world is better off without your like."
Jill Breicen: "You don't have the stomach for true justice. That much is clear."
Jasmine Breicen: "Use your anger constructively. It's apparent you can't use it to fight."
Isabella Levai: "The causes you are looking toward are not worthy. I will not be so merciful, next time."
Rosier Levai: "Content to watch impassively with all the good you could do. You disgust me, demon."
Daren Metzger: "I will send you back to your makers. Piece by piece."
Apinya Sichantha: "Promising. Don't lose sight of yourself, the true tests never end."