Drake Sullivan

Chameleon

Age: 20

Gender: White Male

Species: Human

Sexuality: Straight

Appearance and Attributes: Drake Sullivan stands at an average 5 foot 10, slinking shoulder's, often seen slouching as even when he walks he keeps low to the ground. He has black hair as dark as the night which he keeps cut regularly to stop it from falling into his eyes. He is usually clean shaven around his boney chin but on the odd occasion when out "hunting" he can be seen with short stubble until he can go back to his base of operations and reacclimatise himself. Deep Sea-Green eyes that seem as though they would pierce right through you with his glare alone. Long eye lashes that seem to only further draw attention to his eye's. His nose is somewhat flat and short, his cheek muscle's are rigid and his mouth sit's constantly as if he is snarling. Not often seen smiling, his face a constant shade of worry or reflection. He has no select style for either his appearance or his clothing.

Sometime he will spike his hair up, other times leaving it flat. Often most of his clothes are dark colours, navy or black typically. Having spent so much time trying to blend into the shadows and not stand out from the crowd he has developed both the appearance and the social attributes associated with someone who neither wants to talk or be talked to. He is often arrogant and over-confident but not without due cause. He is good at almost anything he puts his mind to due to his years of training with his father and also the Armed Forces. He is logical and tactical, often playing the long game and not rushing into anything without giving it some thought. He is systematic in his approach to life, slowly figuring out what works and doesn't work to get the best possible result. His latest edition to his wardrobe is a dark black baseball cap wore forwards to further shadow his face. His downfall is his poor social skills or communication skills with the opposite sex, he is shallow and sexist and isn't afraid to voice any opinion that comes into his head. He would be somewhat skinny in stature, his frame seemingly wirey, hiding the muscle and power he needed to survive like he did. He would not be considered to be an unattractive individual but his charm is somewhat lacking to pull the rest of it off as easily.

History: Drake was an ordinary child much like any other, he was a typical American child. Born in a hospital as you would expect and raised by his mother and father who both cared for him and treated him as best they could. He was raised in a fine house, his mother and father had a good relationship and had no more problems than any other couple. However, there was always something a little different about their son. In his youth, it was undetectable, he was a harmless kid that got on well with anyone and everyone he knew. He had a few friends that lived in his street and he would play with them after school. He wasn't a bad student, he lacked the drive to perform at the highest standard but his already capable mind made him able to keep up without having to put in a lot of extra effort like other who may have struggled. His family were wealthy enough that he had never wanted for anything in his life and no great tragedy ever did befall him.
It wasn't until he was 7, his father bought him a young dog that they called Rufus, home with him one night as a present for his only son. They kept the dog for only a month or so before it ended up dead. 

It had disappeared for some time and no one had seen it. Drake's father had noticed that his son liked to leave and run down to the bottom of the garden, there was a patch of grass that sat somewhat out of place in his fathers usually perfect lawn that his son would hover over. Drake continued on like he always did and never seemed to do anything out of the ordinary for a kid his age. He was happy and laughing, his friends would come round and things continued on without much fuss and his father soon forgot about it as he had just got promoted in to the position of Major with the American Armed Forces. His new responsibilities took him away from home so he could no longer worry about the simply little things that would of normally bothered him while he was at home.

It wasn't until after many months of his father coming and going he heard some strange news that started something prickling him at the back of his mind. The neighbourhood had an unusual case of pets going missing from the surrounding area, it was beginning to get more and more common, people thought perhaps a wild animal had come into the community and had started kill their pets for food. His father and a few other men from the town decided to start up a watch off sorts in their own street's to watch for anything out of the ordinary. It was late one night when Drake had gotten up out of bed when he had heard a cat meowing from his bedroom window, he went downstairs and saw the cat in the back yard, lingering at the patch of earth at the bottom of the garden that had slowly over time, gotten bigger and more obscure in shape.

Drake was now 8, growing quickly as a young lad, he was right beside the cat before it even seemed to take notice of him. He approached it slowly and began by putting a hand on it, the cat was startled at first, lying flat along the ground but swiftly it felt no fear and purred softly as the boy stroked it. His father had heard his son get up from his bed and had followed him downstairs to see what was going on. He saw his son outside stroking a cat, something fairly harmless. He smiled to himself and was just about to turn around and go back to bed when his son suddenly lifted the cat and swiftly there came a cracking noise as the little boy had taken the cats neck in one hand and it's body in the other and had begun wrenching both hands in opposite directions. The cat's neck snapped and it fell limp on the floor as the look of dark satisfaction flickered through the boy's eye's. His father quickly flipped on the back garden lights and bolted out the door, the look of fury on his face could have been seen from space.

Bounding towards his son, his father meet the boys glance with cold disdain as his son seemed to shrivel before him, aware he had been caught. His father moved with such quick striking force he knocked his son to the ground as he slapped him across the face. He glared down at his son, he was screaming inside, how could his son be like this? Drake stared back with dead eyes, he didn't know what to expect next, his father had never hit him before, this was uncharted territory for him. He stayed perfectly still for a time until his father grabbed him by the arms and dragged him to his feet and marched him into the kitchen. Here his father hissed at him in hushed tones, scolding and forbidding him from his previous actions that night before being sent to his room. Drake didn't really care, nothing would stop him from his nightly pursuits. He would continue to do it, his father every time he was back home from his line of work would watch him mercilessly to try and catch him out.

He would continue to kill animals from the age of 7 till he was 14 when his father caught him for the second and last time. He was 14 and becoming more and more wild and outrageous, as young teens do at that age with their raging hormones. He began to take his killing to another level by aiming after neighbour's pets while their owners were still home, he seek the thrill of the challenge to do his killings in public and get away with it. His father had happened to come home for a short tour break when he noticed his son acting oddly as he had done before. His son was nervous, slightly edgy and quick to leave any room he found another person lingering in. His dad had still kept his suspicions of his sons actions within himself and had never really forgotten that night all those years ago. This night was to be no different. Drake left in a hurry, it was just starting to get dark and he was all in a hurry to be out and about. His dad sensed something was not altogether right and decided it might just be worth while following his son one more time.Drake had taken it upon himself to make what he thought would be the ultimate challenge for him, to kill the next door neighbours dog while they watched tv in the living room, the back yard just behind them. He would knife the dog and let it bleed out while the family would sit in their own ignorance.

He had walked a few streets away before slowly coming back, he didn't want anyone to think he was around at the time of the crime to place him at the scene and get him in trouble again. However his father was keeping a close eye on him the whole time, some feeling of ill will could be felt physically resonating from the boy. Drake was good at sneaking and hiding himself already by this age but his father was much better from his military training. It was almost like two giants had met and a colossal battle would begin shortly, unfolding at the house right next door to their own. Drake bounded over the neighbours fence when he thought the coast was clear, the dog didn't bark as he had gotten the dog deliberately used to him approaching the animal. He crept over to the dog, it starred at him blankly, unaware of the danger that was standing ever so close.Drake swung the knife down hard and in a flash there was a cracking noise. No blood spilt, no wimper of pain from the dog, only his own cursing and moaning as he hit the grass beneath him hard and fast. His legs went out from beneath him as a harsh kick savaged at his ankle's and took all the force from him, dropping him like a stone, his knife plunged hard in the grass with him and he lay on the flat off his back, gasping suddenly at sky and an all to familiar face that now loomed over him.

His dad's cold death stare was the only thing that greeted him for a long time, then suddenly he felt his fathers massive hands grab him from below and hoist him up, throwing him from the garden he was situated in right into his on. Flying over the fence he fell again and landed hard on his elbow, meaning to cushion his fall but only causing him more pain. With a sudden start, his father bounded over the fence with the knife he had been holding only a few moments ago in his hand before he threw it in front of Drake, the knife wedging itself in the earth below with a low thud.In the instant between hitting the ground and the next, Drake was already between his fathers iron grip, a terrible rage had stolen over his father and his words came out a blur of frustration and seemingly... sadness. His father pushed and pulled him up to his room and he was not permitted to leave it for days on end, his mother brought him meals and spoke to him in soft tones but refused to talk about anything other than simply, pointless and casual topics of what went on that day or outside.

A week went on like this and one day his father walked into the room, the moment Drake had been dreading but the end result would surprise him. His father called him a cold blooded killer and a monster, he would not stand by idle and watch his son pursue a life that would ultimately get him killed senselessly, instead actions was to be taken. The action that was taken was that Drake was pulled from school and he was to be home schooled from then, for the basic's in learning he would learn from his stay at home mother and when his father was back he would learn to train his inner animal to be something finely tuned for a future purpose.

He was signed up for the army from the age of 16, shipped off for basic training and taught to fight and kill like a soldier. Drake felt strangely thankful for his father's unusual reaction to his son's disposition, he wasn't sure this was punishment as it seemed more like a dream come true. Drake took his training very seriously, school by his father for months before he joined the army, he was prepared and focused and eager to learn. He was ahead of the rest of the recruits by miles and swiftly passed through and given to a division as was the next step, sadly he wouldn't like who the leader of his new squad would be, it was his father's. The Division had given themselves the nickname "The captives", namely for the fact that all off them had at one time or another, from one war to the next, spent time in enemy captivity but managed to break free and muster back into the force. These men were all hardened soldiers, brutes of men with muscles beyond compare, he had trained and learnt beyond those of his age and rank but what he would enter into was a whole new world of it's own.

There was a war already being fought and when he had passed muster and been given over to his father's regiment he was shipped off only a few weeks later with his fathers men to the middle eastern regions. His father never spoke to him when they were together, he was there with his men and his friends, he was the rookie and he would have to earn his right to be among them like any other. The only thing that was fun for Drake was the thought of the rifle he now had in his hands and how he would be able to kill once more, even under the watchful eye of his father, no longer would he need to worry that his actions would get him in trouble. As we all know, war is hard and unforgiving and truly no place for a boy of 16 but Drake was there, fighting in a war he neither understood nor could he truly ever grasped the kind of war it was. It was no fair fight, there was no simple gunfights to the death on open ground. It was mostly skulking around, waiting for the right person, capturing enemies and setting free the innocents they hid among. For 3 solid months Drake never once fired his gun despite cleaning and taking it apart almost a hundred times that.

Soon, he would see why the squad had been called "The Captives", they were given a mission to go behind enemy lines and find one man among many, Drake was never given the details, only shipped off with his new squad mates and told how and what he was to do. From that mission, off the 5 that went in, only 3 returned. Drake, his father and a meat-slab-on-legs of a man nicknamed "Muscles" rather unoriginally. The two captives that were taken would be killed in captivity and never make it back, though Drake would never learn this information for his father would hide it from him. Time crept past each day, it was coming up to the year mark were he would be sent back for a time to rest and regenerate his strength for the next tour of duty. He had only three days to go, he had wrote his mother a happy letter telling her how glad he would be to see her again and finally get all the sand out from between his toes and all the other places he could no longer stop sand from hiding on him.
He was on patrol, outside the base, checking things in the nearby tower were peace and quiet when he spotted two lights twinkling in the street closest to him. He stopped momentarily to examine what he had seen when it flashed again, only it flashed then flashed again, he didn't know what it was but it bother him, as he went forward to investigate it, there was a terrible bang and he hit the dirt hard and fast and soon his world turned to black. He thought it had only been a nightmare but when he woke, he realised that the nightmare had yet to begin. The grenade attack that had been launched on him had only grazed him truthfully but shortly afterwards he had been captured by the enemy and soon he would be tortured. The torture began slow, not painful at first but steadily rising and soon it became more and more frequent. They beat and poked him, bleed him and bruised him. They kept shouting in a foreign tongue he could not understand and his attempts to talk to them only failed and earned him another beating. Soon he lost track of hours and days, everything was just a mess, he was stained red with his own blood and his clothes brown from dust and dirt, sand and urine, sadly the urine was only part his, his guards regularly pissed him as he slept to wake him up.

It seemed like an eternity had passed and nothing changed, just the same thing day in and day out, hard bread and cheese, some small amount of water and then another beating or perhaps a dip in cold, head first yelling for air. He couldn't understand what it was they were doing to him, they never asked him a question or looked anything from him, they seemed only to torment him more. When he had lost all hope of ever being free, he let his mind drift and wonder and he lay there on the floor of his cell, watching his usual guards walk around the room looking for him, he lay in the far corner in the shadow of the room, they just hadn't found him yet. The guards stomped around for a while, clumsily as if drunk or unaware and shortly they left him there, shouting and yelling, an alarm was sounded and they weren't seen for another two days. They hadn't fed him or come into his room for a while, he just laid sprawled out in the middle of the floor, waiting for death when a new man appeared, a smart suit he wore but he carried the markings of the others no less.

"Tell me boy, how did you escape from here, why did you then return if you could have gotten away?" He spoke english well, though his accent shined through clearly. Drake was uncertain at first what was going on, he hadn't escaped he had been here the whole time, waiting and perhaps even praying for death. He did not answer and only lay there in silence on the floor while the man got up and beat him once more for not answering. In that instant he was ready for death, closing his eyes he let it all go and silenced the thoughts in his head in preparation but something happened that would change things forever. The beating stopped and the man asking the questions said something to the guards outside and soon he was lying on the ground with three guards and this man starring in awe at him. He had no idea that what was really happening was the four men starring at empty space were he lay silently in his pain. He let the thoughts come back to him and as the feelings, thoughts and memories ran wild through his mind once more there was a sudden gasp from his captors.

From that day on, he was kept in a different cell, more comfortable with more freedom, he was also now regularly visited by the english speaking man, asking him all sorts of questions. He had left him a book from the onset of his new term in this cell, it was there religions holy book and he was asked to read it, he was not forced to do it which was unusual and only peaked his curiousity. Sitting in this new cell had given him new energy and had made him feel healthier now that they had begun feeding him properly. As he got stronger, his thirst to kill again was slowly returning, he had almost forgotten the hunger that had dwelled within him, before he hadn't even had the energy to lift his head, now he felt almost free and the dark hunger that lingered in him called once more, only now more fiercely than ever before. Perhaps they could tell he was a cold blooded kill because before long they put another man in his cell with him, another captive, a journalist caught in the middle but the man babbled endlessly and only annoyed Drake more, his rising lust for blood only grew and grew. One day a guard called at the door and asked Drake to step outside, he was taken out and the english speaking man handed him a blade.

"We know what you are, you are a killer, we will set you free, if you but do us one favour. Spill the blood of the man within, prove yourself and we will see you freed to live once more." Drake was confused at first, before he had time to do anything, he was thrown back in the room and the door locked. He had no idea what to do, if he had the time he would of stuck the blade under the guards throat and made his escape if he could of. The man in the room that Drake had never bothered to learn the name saw the blade in his hand and suddenly started screaming and yelping, tears ran down his face as he begged for his life. Drake had never even thought of how it would look, he hadn't even had time to think himself. The other man's survival instinct must have kicked in as he quickly bounded across the room to challenge Drake for the knife, as the man ran Drake's whole body tensed and his training was remembered as he drove the knife into the man's heart before he could take a step closer. He left the knife inside him as the fresh corpse slid it's way to the floor, Drake slumped to the floor and lay there for a while, the man's body was removed and the knife taken away. A fine meal was left on the table and a small note left beside it that read "You done well my brother, you will be one of us soon and you will be free."

From then on, Drake was given more religious books to read, he read them as they were translated into english but it was either read them or lie there in wait to see what would come next. There was more people who would come through the door, more american's and british, there was french and german people too. There were long days before each new one came but as each new one came Drake's dark desires were ripe and each new victim meet the same end. One was drowned in the toilet bowl, one man was bashed against the wall so many times his head was a swollen red and purple mess and others met worse ends than that. He was studying their religion deeply and in some texts, it seemed people like him were almost loved by the very people who captured him, a man willing to kill their enemies by any means necessary was almost a holy saint. Drake liked the idea of being praised for doing what he enjoyed best. He called to a guard and asked to speak to the english speaking guard from before. He asked the man to take the vows of his religion and convert, he wanted to be praised and worshipped for unique talent, half planning it as a way to free himself from his torment for any longer. He was told he would be free if he killed one more person as his test of faith.

He was put in a room with a man who sat half crumpled up on the floor, they had beaten and kicked him half to death and the fight had gone from his eye's long ago. His face was beaten beyond recognition but there was something in that man that Drake had felt before. A sense of fear crept over him, alien to him as he never feared anyone before but this dying man made his blood boil and the hairs stand on end at the thought of what was to be done next. He walked over to the man casual, he would appear as only another prison to him and he would not even flinch at the sight off him. As he came face to face with the man, he stared at his eyes for a while till finally they took notice off Drake. The man looked shocked for a moment, then almost happy and suddenly a smile broke out upon his face and he went to speak.

"S...Sss..Sssso.." Instantaneously the man was silenced as Drake wrapped both hands around his head and with a swift jerk he heard the bones in the man's neck snap and twist in place and the light in the man's eyes went out once and for all. He couldn't tell how long he had sat and watched the corpse in the corner as when he turned around the guards were already all around him, staring perhaps with contempt or content, he couldn't tell which till suddenly the crowd began to clap, one man at a time till all off them had joined in. "You are one of us now, my brother. Welcome to the only family you will ever need!" The english speaking one commended him and he was freed from the cells. His new found home was at the shrine they had erected in their makeshift base, here he was to pray for several nights and days till the gods answered him and gave him his new purpose. He did as he was told but never felt any divine presence give him any guidance or direction. He did however notice when he sat for long periods of time, in silence with his body totally relaxed, he could feel the presence of others, each one was different but strangely familiar. He could almost hear the words they spoke, feel their breath on his neck as his mind wandered. He didn't know whether to be scared or interested. The more he reached down into himself he could sense others, further away but still so close to him in his mind. He had days to practice this and the more he done it the further away he could reach people. He would spend time in between the future battles honing this skill, reaching out to find others, he guessed that there was something that connected him to them but so far he could not tell what, only that all of them were different.

When they finally came to him and asked him what purpose was he given, he merely told them he was trained to kill and now he would kill in the name of his newfound god. Shortly after this he was equipped with all the weapons and ammo they could spare and he was sent into the field to do just as he was instructed. This had given Drake his freedom once more, he breathed the free air and soon he would do exactly as he had said. He had not realised that his new found friends had been surrounded for a while and when he was sent out into the open he came under heavy fire from the very army he was once part of. He had garbed himself so no one would notice who or what he was. It was at that point he could no longer turn back and he began to fight. He killed many and he pushed back the enemy at the gate and kept pushing, killing any and all that got in his path. In the middle of fights he would disappear before the enemy and reappear behind them, cutting or gunning them down. He found that he could willing now tap into that empty place in his soul and call forth the power to make himself invisible, the adrenaline rush of battle made it even easier and he stroke down foe after foe.

He became an angel of death on the battlefield and he was a feared warrior on both sides, no one would cross him and he gave the orders in battle after only shortly coming out of captivation. It was soon found out that he was an America fighting against his own and it was his government's biggest secret, they feared more would desert if they heard his story so he was never spoken off or shown on any media station. He lived well with his new brothers and was quickly elevated to battle commander of a large contingent off soldiers. He formed his own division from the best around him, ruthlessly slaughtering all round him, his bloodlust driving him on constantly, the more he sprayed their life's blood on the sand and stone, the more he yearned for more.

It was sometime later when a strange man came to visit him. It was unusual when Drake had quietened his mind he could of swore he felt the man's presence physically coming closer and closer to him, the aura from this man was dark and powerful, his skin crawled and suddenly he was being shaken by one of his men telling him that a new stranger had arrived looking to see him. He gave a typical english name and wished to speak only to Drake, the men who greeted him thought him odd and laughed, not even knowing Drake's own name to tell it was him he was talking about. They tried to bar the entry for the man but he quickly had killed the two of them and proceeded on in, killing a few more before he was surrounded and confronted with Drake himself. It was only after this that Drake found out the purpose of his new arrival. This man was acutely aware of Drake's powers, he was interested and promised him much, Drake did not however believe he could truly offer. He left the man that night and expected he would simply have to kill him in the morning but that night when he crept away alone he was confronted with the man, the aura in the room was cold and smelt of death. Only once had he felt this fear before but this time the fear made him stand in place and nothing happened.

The english man made him a proposition or he would kill him then and there. To prove a point he demonstarted his own powers, completely unlike Drake's own but no less unhuman than he himself was. Upon releasing his fearsome power, Drake could tell it was the same man he had felt drawing closer, he realised that the one thing he had in common with this man was that the two of them were gifted, if albeit very differently. Drake made preparations the next morning to leave as his brothers would fight on without him. He had a new place to be. A place in Europe, so new and shiny, so ripe for the plucking.

Powers: 
Active; Selective invisibility: Drake has the ability to complete blend in with his surroundings. His body mimics the surrounding area to such an extent he doesn't even leave an outline if he remains motionless or walks slowly. If he jogs or runs, he leaves behind a quick flash of the background behind him turned upside down giving clues as to where he is. There is another weakness in that, if something new touch's his camoflagued self, it will take a few seconds before it will blend in with him, giving a brief period to see him. Blood stains, oil spills or dirt will show him for a matter of seconds but he can simply blend this in with his ability. Any surface he touches is easily blended into, all metals and earth, even blending people standing behind him with ease. This however requires constant energy spent concentrating on his surroundings and keeping up the camoflague. He can disappear at will and reappear just as easily, yet he has no extra ability beyond hiding with his powers, he isn't gifted with increidable strength or speed, he has to rely solely on his own skills as a trained assassin to finish of any attacker or prey. He uses these powers mostly for spying or searching out other gifted individuals, when people think no one's looking they tend to show their real motives and capabilities. He is no stranger to spying, assassinating and even kidnapping with his powers if that is what the situation calls for. He will not hesitate to slit a person's throat while invisible and flee.

Passive; Power sensing and identification: Drake has the power to feel the presence of other special individuals like himself. The closer he is to the person the easier it is to track and find them yet he can find any other powered individual in the world, however this would take a lot of time and meditation of his part. To find another special individual like himself on the other side of the world could take up to a day or two at times depending on how active the particular person is with their powers. In sensing and identifing others, he can tell their powers and their capabilities with them. In his head he has found people to be on a scale of 1 to 6. People with power levels of 1 are new to their powers, unable to unleash their full potential and unable to control any remotely powerful aspect of their own gift. Drake has never found a Level 6 in his life but if he did, he would run as far away from them as he possibly could. Drake himself has identified himself as a level 3, capable but at the higher levels of his powers are still unavailable to him. This ability has made him very popular with multiple groups who could use his talents for many reasons, gaining him the nickname of a slightly demeaning quality, on top of Chameleon as the "Tracking System".

Character Specific Weaknesses; A person with few weaknesses that are easy to exploit. His biggest weakness is that his powers demand more concentration than he can muster if he is in a battle that is any length of time, he also isn't super strong or fast so he is left open to attack if he is drawn into a long fight. When hiding, he has to be careful of fire or acid. Should his clothes burn or melt, it will instantly bring him out of hiding as his clothes will no longer blend in and he will also lose concentration on his powers revealing the rest of him while he tries to put it out. When he is cloaked he still makes noise, he is trained to be silent but echolocation will be able to pin him down with ease. He also can't hide his own body heat or breathe, so anything heat seeking or infa-red will be able to place him. He can however remove all clothing and hide, his flesh is what blends everything it touch's with him. He can with some strain even hide another individual he is touching however his ability is untested in this area and could fail on him, he often works alone so his need for this is limited.

Team Position: Villain

Colour: Orange