Name: Miles Lockwood
Nickname: The Protegé, Gentleman the Eighth
Age: 17
School Year: Third
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Nationality: Has passports for both England and Australia
Personality: Miles has had the brute knocked out of him. He is a gentleman, trained by one of The Gentleman in putting others first and treating them with respect. He lives by his teacher’s words “Respect is not something to be earned, but to be lost”. Underneath the charming gentleman, beneath years of conditioning and etiquette training is a self-confident and egotistical person who after many near death scenarios has been left slightly deluded about the durability of the human body.
Bio: Miles wasn’t always called that, but he has long since forgotten his old name, however his story is easy to tell.
Most kids dream of joining the circus, Miles was born in one. He was home-schooled, trained as an acrobat and enjoyed an otherwise normal home life. His parents claimed that they were descended from some royalty from a country that no longer exists, but Miles didn’t really care about that. When he turned 13 his happy home life was ruined.
When touring England after a particularly unsuccessful show a drunken crowd tried to get their money back. When they couldn’t they came back at night and set fire to the tent. That in itself wasn’t particularly an issue, however Miles reacted violently and the police report said that for no reason the wild child head butted the ringleader of the group, straddled the man and punched him in the face until he was unrecognisable, the man later dying on the way to the hospital.
Fearing for their son Miles’ parents gave him all the money they could afford, gave him a change of clothes and told him to run. Run he did, eventually losing himself in London’s busy streets. Months passed and Miles had started earning his way through excessive force.
One day he followed a rich looking man and reached for his throat, the man span on the spot grabbed Miles’ hand and asked “How many have you killed?” surprised, Miles fought against this man using the wall as a stepping stone to try and get behind him. The man however just threw Miles’ to the ground and then tied Miles’ hands up with a business tie. “How. Many?” was asked again more forcefully and Miles told him, he honestly didn’t know, but they all made it to the ambulance. “Well, I suppose I better get deal with you then... I’m probably going to regret this” and then with a sigh the man took Miles to his house and trained him, turning a circus born street rat into an upstanding gentleman of the highest order.
Miles reacted violently to the teaching at first, but soon learned the futility of resistance as the man was able to subdue him with little effort. With the acceptance of the situation the man started teaching in a more considerate manner “You already know how to kill, I don’t need to teach you that. What I’m going to teach you is how to
not kill.”
And so each day Miles was taught restraint, etiquette and how to be the very model of a gentleman assassin, which really meant was how to act unsurprised by anything, treat the target like they are the most important person on earth until you kill them and how to kill them while being dapper.
One lesson was at a dinner party where he was told to kill the host without leaving his seat. Miles was sat down at the far end of the table and placed a napkin on his lap. As the meal progressed Miles had to restrain himself, stop himself from just running across the table and snapping the man's neck, but he was told to never leave his chair and to wait until dessert to give the man his last meal.
When dessert came Miles waited until the target started eating before taking the fondue fork and throwing it through the target's eye, piercing the brain. Standing up, Miles took a tulip from a nearby vase and put it in the dead man’s hands. Then the other members of the table turned to Miles and congratulated him on his precise throw and his courtesy to let the target have some dessert as well. It turned out that everyone at the table except the target were also considered 'Gentlemen Assassins' and although the target was real; it had all been a test of his manners more than his ability to kill.
On the last day he ever saw what he had come to think of as another father he was given a plane ticket, a passport with his new name, the location of Riddle Academy and instructions to go there and “Integrate back into society, become a good man. You’re now the eighth in line, make me proud.”
Weapon: Miles primarily uses a silenced Walther PPK to assassinate, but will always resort to using his hands when pressed at close range.
Equipment: A small pack of sugar-free gum, keeps a steel plate in his breast pocket which has deflected many a bullet to his heart, usually carries a bouquet of flowers that he will hand out a flower of to all the lovely ladies that he passes
Skills:
Impeccable Manners – first and foremost, Miles is a gentleman. He will hold the door open for a lady and will treat everyone with respect.
Acrobatics – not commonly shown since it doesn’t fit with his gentleman training, but Miles can flip and tumble with the best of them.
Hand-to-hand combat – Miles was a natural born killer that was taught restraint and to have surgical precision when taking out a target, using only as much force as required
Improvised Weaponry – Miles was taught that it was uncouth to carry around too many weapons, but a mistake to not be prepared. So Miles is as likely to use his gun as a fork, a frypan, chair or car. He’ll use whatever happens to be close at hand.
Cleaning – when he makes a mess Miles will be sure to clean up after himself, or others... or anyone really
Ballroom Dancing – a bit old fashioned, but so was his master
Violin - Miles was taught classical violin, mainly because he can hide lots of weapons in the case if needed and actually play the instrument on demand as a cover
Value Judgement – the clothes make the man and Miles knows how to value any piece of apparel
Devilish Temper – not really a skill, but as a side-effect of his conditioning Miles has been left with instincts he long since wish he had suppressed. As his clothes become damaged his demeanour starts to crumble, and Mile’s hand-to-hand combat skill becomes far more unorthodox and incorporates his acrobatic skills more fully, as if the clothes maketh the man was almost literal with him. The end result is closer to a serial killer than an assassin, attacking from any angle and with anything he can find
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