Argi Oyarzun

Alias: (Formally) Agent Oyarzun, (new to possibly come later)

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Appearance and Attributes: A handsome and tall man, Argi is 6’2”, with dark brown hair that is medium length, golden coloured skin and a square jaw. His eyes are usually grey in colour, but they change according to the person he has used his ability upon. Contrary to his appealing features, he has an appearance that portrays his recent lifestyle. His face displays a number of small scars, his beard and hair are unclean and untidy; his deep, sunken eyes are accompanied by blood-shot veins; there is an ever permeating vile stench surrounding him; and his once muscular lean body is concealed by the multiple layers of filthy, mismatched, second-hand clothing that he has acquired overtime.

Argi is aggressive, critical and cynical towards people and he can become quite blunt and direct with them if they are irritating him, which is usually often due to his constant state of fatigue. He is driven towards his goals and will easily disregard people that aren’t helping or useful to him. Hardened by his recent year on the streets, he relies upon his instincts and will do what he must to survive. Thus, he is unrestrained and unconcerned about right and wrong in his actions, particularly in relation to his goals. He is adaptable to his environment and he tends to use what he has and what is around him to his advantage. Despite this, his earlier persona was playful, sarcastic and tough but he was also compassionate with others, and he cared very deeply for people that he trusts. Glimpses of this tend to reveal itself infrequently when he used to visit his friend in hospital, but there is a slight chance that he could open up to others in due time.

History: From birth till around the age of ten, Argi lived happily with his mother as they traveled the world as a result of her profession. His mother was, in fact, the “supervillain” Temptress, who was notorious for using her power of life force absorption to sneak into businesses and corporations and remove corrupt CEOs and leaders. Despite her acts, Temptress was a loving mother who cared very much for Argi and they bonded well as mother-and-son. As he grew up, Temptress started to bring Argi along with her on missions that he often enjoyed, and to teach him about the injustice of the world and to keep a critical view in mind.

On his tenth birthday, Argi had been sent by his mother to pick up treats for his birthday. Upon his return, he found that their temporary home had been raided by government authorities and his mother was dead. He tried to see his mother’s body, but he was never to see her again as he was quickly detained and taken away by the government authorities. He was later transferred to a research facility where he was observed for any powers that they anticipated he would develop, since he was the son of the infamous Temptress.

After several months of observations and tests, Argi yielded no results, so he was soon reintegrated back into society and quickly adopted by a Christian family. There were friction between Argi and his adoptive family as he found it difficult to adjust from his mother’s upbringing of being critical to their strict ways. Even before puberty, Argi always managed to innocently get himself into trouble without realising it. By his early adolescent years, he started becoming rebellious and challenging the status quo of his adoptive family.

Argi befriended Eli, a guy from his school, and they quickly became best friends in a short time. Like any other rebellious teenager, they hung out in a field with a group of friends and drunk too much alcohol together one night. In his drunken state, Eli ended up kissing Argi, which caused the latter to develop his ability. Argi became aware of Eli’s hidden power of terrakinesis as he replicated and accidentally used it, which terrified their group of friends. Unfortunately for Argi, the community where he lived was very conservative like his adoptive family, and it was particularly discriminatory towards people with powers. He had heard stories of what happened to people with powers, and he had once witnessed a public execution of someone with a power.

Argi and Eli were seized by their group of friends and taken to be detained while their fate was decided by the people of the town. It was ultimately decided that Argi and Eli were considered evil and sinned, which would result putting them to death. On the day of their public execution, government authorities arrived to intervene in affairs, but they were unwelcomed and a riot broke out between the government authorities and the people of the town. Argi and Eli were found and freed, along with other captives who had be detained because of their powers, and evacuated from the town before the community could cause them harm.

They were taken to Novum Aurora, a new city in Europe, where they recovered from their incarceration. Soon after, they were visited by Novum Aurora’s Head of Secret Operations Department to discuss plans of training Argi and the people with powers to become an elite task force to bring down people who misused their powers or misused others with powers. The others quickly agreed, but Argi was skeptical of this as he had been taught by his mother, but he reluctantly agreed. For the next few years, they trained and worked together as an efficient team. During this time, Argi and Eli had time to reflect upon that drunken night, particularly around the kiss, to which Eli confessed his attraction for Argi. Taken back by this, Argi accepted his friend’s feelings and reassured that he will always be there for Eli. As time went on, they grew closer together during their training and a romantic relationship eventually formed between the two friends.

When they embarked on their first mission as a newly trained task force, they were almost killed as Argi discovered his true ability of tactile power replication as opposed to the initial terrakinetic power he possessed. But they adapted to this change and succeeded in their first mission, with many more successes and hardships to come from later missions. Argi quickly adjusted to his newly realised ability, and it became an important advantage in some of their missions.

Several more years passed by and the task force was successful in bringing down criminals and villains with powers. Things were going good between Argi and Eli, but they had begun to fight with each other later in their relationship. A terrible argument one night split the two up, which had an impact upon the task force and its performance. Thankfully though, their recent missions had been relatively easy and without much threat to them or the public. Argi noticed this and started to question their directives, but it was dismissed as the intelligence that the Secret Operations Department were receiving was reliable enough to prevent risks and neutralise the threats. Upon hearing this, Argi dismissed it as well, but his suspicions continued to quietly linger at the back of his mind.

Argi also started to date Francesca, another agent of the task force, but their relationship was a simple, playful one rather than the deep and serious one that Argi had with Eli. This quickly ended as Francesca was discovered to be betraying the Secret Operations by hiding people with powers who were likely to be an alleged threat. She was seized and taken away, which shocked Argi and the other agents of the task force. On their way to a mission, they started to discuss what happened and found that the information they had between them didn’t make sense. Remembering his earlier suspicions, Argi shared what he thought about their recent directives and missions, to which most of them sombrely agreed with him.

They arrived at the destination of their mission, which was a newly built factory that was mostly empty save for a single figure tied up and suspended in the air. The task force investigated this and were stunned to find that it was Francesca, who had been beaten badly and left unconscious. As they released her, the factory erupted to life as their former adversaries, the ones the task force had been assigned to bring down over the years, rushed towards them in a lustful and savage manner for their blood. The task force tried to fight them off, but they were easily outnumbered and almost overwhelmed. With the replicated power of aerokinesis, Argi escaped to outside of the factory with Eli and Francesca. As he prepared himself to go back in and retrieve the rest of his team, hidden explosives were detonated that destroyed the factory and killed everyone inside it.

Before he had time to process the reality of it all, gunshots were fired by Secret Operations field agents in his direction. Argi managed to take flight with his friends and flew them away in time, but not before receiving injuries from the Secret Operations agents. He flew to a nearby town and took them to the closest hospital to see to their wounds. The beatings that Francesca received were enough to leave her indefinitely comatose. Argi suffered from a gunshot wound to his back and a few cuts and bruises from the factory battle. But Eli was the worst out of them with serious injuries from the factory battle and the gunshots, and he later died, which devastated Argi. With most of his friends dead by the hands of a government that betrayed them, Argi vowed to untangle the treachery and uncover those responsible by any means possible. Laying low out on the streets of Novum Aurora as a fugitive, he has spent the last year digging information and chasing up leads while trying to avoid the attention of the Secret Operations Department. But his former superiors have begun to take notice of his activities, and with the recent disappearance of Francesca, Argi must find his friend before his enemies catch up to him. 

Powers: Tactile Power Replication – The ability to mimic any active or passive power of another and control it under their own will. This is achieved through skin-to-skin contact with the person and concentrating upon which power they wish to replicate. A unique by-product of this ability is the additional replication of all the memories associated to the mimicked power. These memories can be used to help the user obtain control over their mimicked power with greater ease without the need for practice.

Previous replicated powers:

• Terrakinesis – Eli, see History.
• Aerokinesis – Unknown, see History.
• Illusion manipulation - Francesca, before The Grandmaster and his Harmonic Fists of the Empty Winds.

Current replicated power: 

• Motor-skill manipulation - Larsa Weber, The Grandmaster and his Harmonic Fists of the Empty Winds.

Character Specific Weaknesses: Argi can only replicate one power (and the memories connected to that power) at a time, thus replacing an old power with a new one. Once a power is mimicked, Argi is able to retain it for as long as he desires, and he can replicate it again if he has previously discarded it for another power, though he will still need to make physical contact in order to replicate that particular power again. Argi’s control of replicated powers is parallel to the control of the original user due to their experiences and memories of using their power, but he can independently train himself to use a replicated power and create his own experiences and memories. His control over his own replication ability can sometimes be imperfect, so he may accidentally replicate another’s power if he is touching them in a stressful situation. As Argi replicates a power in its entirety, he additionally mimics the weaknesses linked to that particular power.

The replicated memories associated with the power are ones up to the point of replication. Therefore, any new memories after the point of replication are inaccessible to Argi, unless he uses his ability again on the same person he replicated the power from. Similarly, Argi loses the replicated memories associated with the old power when he replicates from another person, whether it is a similar or different power. However, he does retain his own experiences and memories of using previous replicated powers. If a person possesses a psychic shield power, then Argi is prevent from mimicking their memories even though he can still replicate their power.

Argi can become easily angered, which can distract him and make him lose focus, especially when he is taunted. His anger will make him unpredictable to a degree, but it is easy to work out and potentially manipulate his focus towards something else. His rage will also divert his attention away from any injuries he sustains during a battle, and eventually he will succumb to his bodily damages. Additionally, his body and mind are scarred from the day most of his friends died, thus his movements are rigid and stiff from the gunshot wound to his back that hasn’t properly healed and he occasionally has flashbacks triggered by firing guns and detonating explosions.

Colour: Bronze [RGB 127, 96, 0]

Team Position: Freelancer.

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

Travis Benjamin Barclay.

Alias: "Thunder Strike"

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Species: Black Human male

Sexuality: Straight Male

Appearance and Attributes: Travis stands at a rather large 6 Foot 7 Inches tall with a rather muscular frame which he has rigorously honed since he was a young teenager, an avid sports and athletics fan, clearly not one for the more nerdy elements in life. His bulging biceps and large calf muscles are the more prominent features of his physical appearance. Usually seen running around in tank tops and running shorts. Never leaves home without wearing a good pair of running shoes as he simply loves the freedom they give him. To keep in with the rest of his attire he can often be found wearing sweat bands and headbands. His clothes all look pretty bog standard but in truth all his clothes are weighted for further trainning purposes as he feels he must always push himself to his utmost limits. He is at the peak of physical fitness and much like the stereotypical athletic type he is more than remotely aware that by the common standards he is what many women would call "attractive" and he is not beyond using it to get what he wants. Somewhat of a ladies man, often flirting with anyone he can find, using his good looks to get him what he needs in certain occasions. Originally he was religious until he received his powers, believing that no god would curse him so, that this simply was something terrible that he had been thrown into. He now has a short fuse on his temper, losing his sight and having to make it seem as though he cannot see has made him unhappy with his new change of lifestyle, having sight but not being able to see in front of others has caused him some rather large set backs, making him somewhat bitter over the loss of his athletic career. He wanders somewhat aimlessly now, though he wont let this beat him, through the somewhat bitter twist his life has taken he has not allowed it to take away his true heart of gold which still shines through when allowed to. He quietly continues on his life, having moved only recently to a new city where he hopes that he can put the past behind him somewhat and get on with his life.

History: Travis was a May baby and was born healthy and also a little heavy. His parents, Preston and Jade, were both loving and caring parents and were most delighted to have their first and what would be only child. Strangely Travis' story at the start of his life is mostly uneventful, he was a poor study in school but greatly interested in basketball and the 100 metre sprint. He did nothing truly remarkable through his childhood, he was a simply kid with a love of sport but a rather high distaste for all things "nerdy" or "geekie". His family were moderately wealthy and sent him to be privately educated at a Boarding School for Young Men called "Westhempsmith" there he spent many of his formative years and also built where he built on his already athletic driven choices. Here he was always just pasting muster when it came to grades yet he was on every single school team there was and usually the teachers would let a few things slide since he had been one of the reasons they had done so well in many school tournaments and had also gotten the school more funding. It was at this school that the headmaster pushed him down a career in athletics and sent him away during the summer to special camps so that he could try out for the nationals in many of the sprinting races. He only ever entered once and was instantly signed out to play for his country and did so ever since that day happened.

As it was said, his early years were simply the common life of a young child, he had no major hardships in his life, a string of relationships both long and short, a loving family, no issues or worries with money, in fact you could of almost said that his life was "perfect" shall we say. He was sent on many occasions to special training sessions for his sheer running talent and he was constantly put through special training programmes around the world for weeks at a time, he was living the high life, living out of hotels in hot and exotic places across the globe. He was never stuck for company either, as a serial ladies man, he could find himself with up to 2 or 3 ladies a night in each new city. He enjoyed much of the privileges it also afforded him having much spare time to hone his physique and practice harder and longer to achieve his dream. All he wanted in life was to be the fastest runner in the world, to topple all the records and show people he was the fastest, even the best! He wasn't always serious and competitive, he did have a softer side, from the age of 18 to 20 he had a long term relationship with a girl he had meet when visiting his grandparents who lived not far outside his home town. Her name was Natasha Denson and she was the first love of Travis.

While running was his life, for the two years they were together it briefly shared first place with Natasha, a young aspiring lawyer who was still working her way through college although she was 2 years older than Travis at the time. Their relationship last the two years but was cut short when Natasha grew tired of his constant obsession with running and constantly pushing himself further, as he reached his 20th year he began pushing himself so hard that for a few months he would pass out and faint should he keep pushing himself to hard. She pleaded with him to tone down just how hard he worked but her words would fall on deaf ears and as he pushed himself harder, he only suceeded in pushing her further away as the final straw was broken when he had pushed himself so hard in a training session that he had ruptured internal muscles and was rushed to hospital. On his sick bed she cried as she told him she could not be with him anymore if he wouldn't listen to her pleas to keep him safe. Travis was angry that all she could think about was breaking up with him while he was hurt, so he told her to leave and get out of his life if she couldn't support him. When he recovered and was released from hospital he had begun to see the error of his ways and regretted the heated arguement he had before she had left his life for good, however from that day forward he no longer pushed himself to physical injury, choosing to learn from his mistakes.

His powers were in a constant slow spiraling descent upon him, from the age of 22 he began to lose his sight, slowly at first, only squinting or getting occasionally blurred vision, it was not until he was 24 that he became fully blind. His senses seemed to be changing all the time, sometimes he could hear noises that he shouldn't off from such a long distance, like two people arguing on the other side of the street as a car roared passed but he simply thought his ears were playing tricks on him. Travis often felt unusual about his ever changing hearing and eyesight but choose to keep his head down and continue with his training. The year of the olympics was coming up when he was to be 24 and he put his heart and soul into it with everything he had to be ready to compete for the right to be the fast man alive. It was shortly after his 24th birthday and the day of the olympics arrived, he was standing warming up for his big preformance in front of the whole world as the crowds watched and people at home sat glued to their T.V. sets, it was to be on this occasion that something miraculous was about to happen.

He had a great start, he was flying down the lane, easily beating all that stood around him, he was sprinting with all his might and then suddenly half way down the track his world of colour seemed to shift and bend, the colours blurred to gray and soon into darkness. He still sprinted forwards but was soon greeted with pain as he slammed hard into the next runner now catching up with the blinded Travis. The two hit hard and the impact floored both runners and cost them both the race. With all the work he had done over these years, it had all been in vain, now blinded he had lost the race and to the same extent, his pride. He left silently that day and refused to pass comment as he was shuffled out of the stadiums. He was blind, how could it have happened and so fast? The truth was, his eyes had begun to dull but his ears had begun to work on a whole new level. Shortly after losing his sight and returning home that night he began to become more and more aware of the world around him, there were sounds in his head he had never heard before, they whirled around him until he could take it no more and passed out.

He was found a day later lying face first in the floor. He was alive and well but something was beginning that would change his life forever. When he awoke to the sound of his own mother frantically trying to revive him he got up suddenly and without realising it place his hand on his mother's shoulder and calmly replied "I'm fine mom, I just fell over is all!" He was so caught up in the moment he hadn't realised that he had seen his mother's face in a way he had never seen her before and yet he was blind only yesterday. It was only as he sat upright in a chair and stared at the figure he knew so well in front of him in his new vision did it all become clear to him. His vision had returned but in a new way, instead he could make out the shapes of all things around them whenever they gave off a sound, or if he spoke he could see the very soundwaves his voice gave off bouncing against the walls and all the objects around him. He laughed loud and his mother soon left thinking he must have just been depressed from his loss the day before. He was glad she was gone as he began to challenge his new sight to see just what he could and couldn't do. He didn't see or hear from anyone for a week or so but by then he had already begun to understand.

Around his home he practiced walking around in the woods, he had learnt just by letting out a low exhale of breath unaudible to most ears he could see the woods and the trees around him perfectly. He seemed to develop a rather deep rumbling in his throat that he could not clear and in an attempt to clear his throat he let out his first sonic blast. In the woods not far from his house he trained himself in secret, learning the new tricks of his until now untapped powers. Here he learnt how to focus sound from around him into the very energy he could project out around him. He first mastered his voice blast, learning that he could even vary the frequencies to call on bats and lead them around to even simply breaking glass or causing deeply irritating noises to the eardrums of those around him, strangely his own highly attuned senses took no kick back from his own attacks. On the last day he was to spend in the woods he learnt to pressurise all the noise around him contain it and build it all up until the point he could explode it out in a massive shockwave. He achieved this powerful feat but was comatosed for the next 12 hours when he woke up to find a family of racoons making their way to nibble on him thinking him a corpse.

It was around this time his parents decided they would move him away from his old home and try to get him a new life, somewhere fresher and new. Novum Aurora, in Europe was to be their destination of choice, they thought here in a part of the world only just beginning to flourish that perhaps he would be able to regain the seemingly broken pieces of himself he had lost with his eyesight, in truth Travis wasn't that interested in the idea as his newfound powers were his only waking care these days. He was moved to a suburban part of Novum Aurora in a fairly quiet neighbourhood where his parents made sure he would have a care worker on sight should he need help without his own eyesight now. Travis was only to happy to be free of his parents and to be allowed some new freedom he would never have had being surrounded by friends and family. Here he could let loose, here he was a new man that no one knew, to them he was only a blind man, here he could do as he pleased as no one here would give him even a second look once they seen the light of his eyes had long since faded.

Powers:
Active; Sound Manipulation: Travis has the ability to absorb nearby waves of sound from any source; noise, vibration, man-made or naturally occuring. While he absorbs this energy within him, he can use this energy in a variety of forms. He can use it to screech a high frequency wave that will shatter ear drums and break glass. Summon it as kinetic energy in his hands to create supersonic blasts from his hands or store up energy in every part of his body and use it to "bleed" out a destructive sound blast from the very pores of his body much like an explosion. Using the explosive blast does however have the draw back of extreme pressure placed on muscles, blood veins and arteries. If used to much it could rupture the very blood vessels and cause him to bleed from his own pores, severely weaken him for a medium length period before he could use any of his powers again.

Passive; Echolocation and Sonar enhanced sensory capabilities. Echolocation is the ability to sense the surrounding area by sound, pinpoint enemies and allies around you with the use of sound rather than visuals. Much like a bat, Travis has the ability to use his sonar perception to use any sound as a means of seeing the world around him. While being unable to see by normal means, the sounds given off or reverberating off of an object allow him to create a mental picture in his head of the world around him, giving him the ability to see through walls and other solid structures that are not sound proof.

Character Specific Weaknesses; His powers have made him blind, without a sense of smell or taste. A place without noise or sound. Inside a sound proof box would cripple the senses of Travis. He also doesn't allow anyone to know that he can still see, letting bad things around him happen just to keep up his cover in public has lead him to allow things that go against his moral compass and at times even allowed others to take advantage of him.

Team Position: Member of the Superheroes team.

Colour: Grey-blue [RGB 159, 197, 232].

Danny Crumpus

Alias: "Insectus"

Age: 29

Gender: Male.

Appearance and Attributes: Small, pervert-looking guy with long, wavy, light brown hair, and dark hazel eyes. He is quite skinny and thin, and his facial features are quite twisted, which are more creepy than sinister looking. He normally wears a black hooded cloak for his supervillain outfit.

An arrogant and impatient man, Danny fancies himself as the king of the world but in reality, he is just a small man with a overly large ego. He is an obsessively loud-mouth man, who is quite demanding and has the obscured idea that he can charm women, but fortunately for them, he doesn't.

History: When he was younger, he was really interested in entomology, the study of insects and other related bugs, but he was bullied for it. As he grew older, he started to study them and eventually discovered one day that he could change into their form when he was studying a couple of spiders. He noticed that he had sprouted some spider legs from his sides and soon he started changing into the full form of a spider. After managing to change back into his old form, he experimented with it and socialised with the arachnids and insects he studied which he discovered that he had a special link with them. Soon, when he tried to publish the findings of his experiments, he was denied and crushed when the other scientists believed that he was just making it up. Wanting to get his back on them, he became a supervillain with his army of creepy crawlers to wreak havoc upon the city of Novum Aurora.

Power:

Active; Ento-morphing - The ability to fully or partly change into any insects and arachnids equivalent to one's mass and size when in physical touch with that particular insect or arachnid. Therefore one can gain features such as a fly's wings, or a spider's web shooting, etc... When one changes, they do not change into the exact size of the insect or arachnid or; they can in fact increase or decrease their size as well as changing into that insect or arachnid. Also one can recall any insect or arachnid they have morphed into if they remembers the feeling of that particular bug.

Passive; Ento-psychic/empathic link - The user is psychically linked with nearby arachnids and insects. They can perceive what their emotional and mental capacity as if they were the user's own thoughts and feelings. If there are too many bugs around, the user can be confused and therefore overloaded enough to be knocked unconscious.

Character Specific Weaknesses; The maximum amount of different arachnids and insect parts that Danny can morph into is 5. Due to the Ento-psychic/empathic link with bugs, too many bugs can confuse and overwhelm Danny, and any damages inflicted onto the bugs that he is connected to, he will subsequently experience their pain as his own.

Team Position: Minor villain.

Colour:  N/A, NPC.

Reina Chauhan.

Alias: Time Lady.

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Appearance and Attributes: Long, black with red streaks through her hair, dark grey eyes accompanied by thick black-rimmed glasses, and beautiful honey-gold skin. A petite girl with a slender body, she is an exquisite Indian beauty to all those who gaze upon her. She will wear loose-fitting clothes that may seem too big for her small figure and Indian dresses, such as a sari or a ghagra choli and a head-scarf as her superhero outfit.

Reina is a strong minded lady who is very serious about her work. Her best talent is multitasking. She is extremely reliable, but, when she is put in situations that she is not used to, she is easily flustered. She has a mild case of OCD and needs things to be in order. She hates it when things get out of her control. This also makes her indecisive about things, as since she likes things to be in order, she has trouble deciding the particular order of it.

History: Reina's mother was an Indian priestess who fell in love with a foreigner who did not love her back. When they had relations and Reina’s mother fell pregnant with her, she lost her abilities, and Reina’s father abandoned her shortly after. The loss of her powers and the father of her child left her heartbroken, and soon an unexpected flood devastated their village and resulted in many casualties. Reina’s mother was heavily pregnant with Reina at the time of the Great Flooding and was supposed to be killed had her mother's best friend and Reina's step-father not saved her. Due to the events of her mother’s life, when Reina came into her powers, she was taught not to become a slave to them and to always be cautious with her decisions.
When Reina grew up to the age of 18, she decided to enrol at the University of Novum Aurora on a history degree. While the prospect of life at the university and in the city excited her, she is secretly hoping to find her father, whom she had a vision of being in Novum Aurora… Alongside of her academic studies, Reina has teamed up with Fayth Svartalf to help in the superhero business at night.

Powers:
Active: Localised time manipulation -  The ability to control the flow of time within a localised area or a specific target. It allows one to accelerate, reverse, slow, halt or even loop the temporal course of a situation or an individual. Such applications can mean that projectiles and objects can be frozen in time, wounds are restored back to the point before infliction, delay or hasten the pace of others, and even rapidly age organic and inorganic matter. Manipulation of time on a localised level can still be strenuous for the user, so the area and length of time manipulation is limited relatively to the concentration and energy of the user. Thus multiple control of time for different objects and people will require multiple levels of concentrated efforts to maintain the applications. Overexertion of this ability will require the user to rest and replenish their reserves before reattempting to use their powers.
Passive: Limited retrocognition and precognition -  Retrocognition allows one to perceive past events and situation as ghostly images. Due to the limitedness, the user can only perceive certain situations and significant objects within for a short length of time. The grasp on the retrocognitive psychic events are fairly fragile that they are disrupted easily and they disappear without being recalled back.
Precognition allows one to perceive future events and related individuals in quick bursts of spontaneous visions. This aspect of the power is usually triggered involuntarily by touching an object that is psychically connected to the future situation or individuals. If the psychic energy is strong enough, the user may receive a vision without the need of making physical contact with an individual or an item. The visions themselves are brief, allowing the user a quick glimpse of the future for a second or two before return the user back to the present.

Character Specific Weaknesses; See above for personality weaknesses. Also, Reina requires full concentration to alter the passage of time for the local area or individuals, thus she is vulnerable to attacks that she isn't focused on. She tends to overexert herself often when using her powers, leaving her drained soon after a battle.

Team Position: Member.

Colour: Honey-yellow [RGB 191, 144, 0].

Viktor David Zaboletta-Smyth.

Alias: "Replica"

Age: 22

Gender: Male (Can however shapeshift into female's or male's he has killed and assimilated)

Species: Previously human, now simply an amalgamation of many entities combined into one host body

Sexuality: Bisexual due to the fact he has assimilated so many minds that he can no longer distinguish his own personal tastes from the ones he has gotten from others.

Appearance and Attributes: Standing at around 5 foot 10 inches, wearing ragged but well fitting dark grey jeans, torn and shredded at the very ends. A comfy pair of shoes, dark in colour but a light turquoise strip running down the sides of each.  Wearing a grey hoody with a dirty brown leather jacket over the top.  Blood splatter is common on all of these items of clothes, rarely having time to wash them between one misdeed to another.  A rough steel chain is constantly running around the back and the palm of his hand, a mark is left on both sides he has held it in a tight grip for years, from the chain dangles a few prayer beads at the end's, now worn and faded or covered in blood spatter.  His hands are cut and rough, often scar's and marks or even bleeding sores can be seen.  His skin tone is light brown from tanning in the warm weather but his skin is truly a white shade of pink. He has dark lines around his eyes from lack of sleep, badly chapped lips and dirt marks smeared from place to place.  His eye's are dark, jet black pupils with a red iris.  If you look closely you can see red isn't the natural colour of his eye's it is actual just a constant stream of blood running through them that make the red iris'. His eye's are overshadowed by bushy eye brows that are black and wavy, upon removing his hoody you will find that his hair is completely grey from the dramatic shifts in his body, ageing the hair on his head rapidly making him grey but with a full head of short, straight hair.

Viktor's personality is somewhat split, his mind is shared with all those that he has killed and assimilated over the years making it somewhat hard to distinguish at times which thoughts are his own and what thoughts are being spoken or remembered from a past victim. In this respect it makes it hard to give an accurate account of Viktor's true personality as it has now become lost along the years. When he was a child he cared and he loved, he would laugh and sing but as his powers came to fruition, it seemed that his own abilities began to control him and soon his personality was drained away with the use and abuse of his newfound armaments and skills. Viktor lacked any true source of love in his life with his mother dead and his father constantly lost in his own sorrow and self pity. To this end, he was only really ever versed in the feelings of fear, anger, hatred and sorrow.

These tolls on an already stretched and troubled mind lead it to become very easy for Viktor to slowly allow his feelings to be hidden and for the minds of his victims to become his very thoughts, now as he stands about a hundred voices all call and cry to him, urging him in every direction. It is a miracle he still stands with so many things flying through his mind all the time but because of this, his actions are very rarely driven by his own feelings of desire or need but rather the victims within him almost use their host for their own dark twisted visions.

It is possible that perhaps many of the murders or assimilations he has done have been at the hand's of his mind's more twisted and resentful souls that he made part of his mind by assimilating them in the first place. Viktor has even shown signs of the belief that he is not the guilty one for the murder's he commits but often claiming it was the "voices in my head told me to do it". Often a line said by insane murders and madmen but perhaps this time it might very well be true.

History: Born to a Russian father and an English mother, his father was a godless man who hated the world and its bitterness, disdain was all the man knew.  There was only one brief glimmer of light in this man's life and that was his wife, a young radiant woman, so full of life and free with one and all.  She was a god fearing woman and took great pity on the man she found lying in a ditch one day outside her home she made from her hard days labouring and saving.  It was a lush countryside home where the man had blindly stumbled past in one of his many misadventures.  Upon taking the man in the woman felt uncomfortable around him, he was a man with jagged edges and a face of stone but he was a gentleman and a great thinker.  The woman allowed this man to stay long during what was to be a harsh winter.
That is the beginning of what would be the story of Viktor, the boy destined to become evil to the core.  Viktor was boring at a time when a great frost sweep the land and it ravaged everything it touched, at Viktor's birth it would claim his mother and cost his father his sanity.  During childbirth complication's arose and there was nothing Viktor's father could do to save his mother, he watched as she died and from her he took his son.

Viktor David Zaboletta-Smyth he was named, each a name from his father and a name from his mother.  When Viktor was born, his powers first manifested themselves, as he left his mother's womb the baby cried fiercely and suddenly his body changed shifting and pulsing, accidentally slicing his mother internally causing her to bleed out.  He was cared for by his father who was broken from the lose of his mother, becoming more and more unstable but unaware of his son's "gifts."
Viktor's childhood was quiet for some years, nothing really happened out of the ordinary, a single father struggled to look after his child but he got by.  As Viktor grew older and wiser, he questioned his father on many things and learnt of the bitterness that dwelled within him, asking questions always seemed to infuriate his father, the more he asked the more his father got worse, turning to drink and soon to hitting his son to silence him.  Viktor was one day left alone in his home, his father left and never returned, Viktor simply never questioned it, or if he did he simply never dwelled on it for to long.  From the age of 7 he was forced to fend for himself.  Leaving his home he soon lived in the woods with the animals and the plants.  Here was were he begin to notice he had something special about him, something different.  One day in the woods, he ripped a dear in half as he pet it.
This was the first manifestation of his powers, his finger tips expanded into long claws, reaching far beyond his fingers, with razor sharp precision.  He began from that day to experiment, killing the animal hadn't remotely fazed him, in fact, it had simply made him all the more curious as to what he could do.

Soon he learnt he could hardened his fists and make them stronger than bone or steel, using them to crush tree's with a single swing of his fist's.  Eventually he learnt that with sheer will he could change his hand into many other things, his favourite was however the giant blade he could transform his whole hand into, it pierced through steel and more, it was the strongest of his new found weapons.  Despite having killed many creatures in the woods through his travel many animals did not fear him and he spent most of the next few years until his teenage years living with family's of wild deer or horses or even hiding in tree's with squirrels or hiding in burrows with rabbits and hares.
Living out a nomadic existence in the forest's that had once surrounded his family home, at his teenage years he began to feel a calling, almost a literal voice calling him some place, he didn't know who this voice belong to but the more it called the more he needed to follow it.  He left for a little town not far from where the forest he had lingered had been.  In this village he was instantly seen as a stranger, living in dirty rags, covered in mud and dirty.  Disdainful eyes watched him from every corner.  This was to be the first time his powers would get him into trouble.  While walking through the village some kids ran past and knocked him over accidentally.  In his anger he swiftly got up and quickly stuck his claws through the boy that had knocked him down just seconds ago, the girl he had been playing with screamed a shrill, long wail and as soon as the dead boy hit the floor there was already many more eye's that now stared over the scene.  The word freak was one of the only few he knew the meaning of as the villagers called him names he could only guess were not compliments.  He was chased from the village.
Knives, pitchforks and flaming torches flew at him as he fled, the villagers however could not catch up, as he ran he could feel the weight of his body feel more spaced out, the burden of his body felt lighter as he ran faster, he got excited and jumped, soon he lifted so high he was already on the other side of the field he had been standing in previously. Excited with the prospect of finding new things he could do he headed to the next village as the voice called to him once again pushing him on.

At the Village of Vanderscar, tucked away in rural Europe, it was here that Viktor learned he could use his powers one step further beyond simple destruction and death.  Here he learnt that it was not only changing shape but changing himself that he could do.  In Vanderscar he killed a man who started a fight with him for stealing some food, the man he killed lunged at him first and easily Viktor met him with claws out and striking quickly into his chin and through his mouth.  The man died quickly but a sudden forceful jerk came through Viktor as a mass of tendrils shot through his chest, an unpleasant tingle forcing its way to the surface until it grabbed the man and slowly dragged the organic matter into his body and slowly it consumed and assimilated it.
Memories, thoughts and feelings flooded his mind, it was almost head splitting.  Soon he knew who this man had been and everything he had done.  When he came from the rush of the man's memories he noticed that when he looked down, he stood there, not as himself but the man he killed.  He was exactly like him in every way, he talked like him, walked like him and had the very clothes the man he consumed had worn on him now.  He laughed and slowly made his way home to the man's house on the outskirts of the village. Here he stayed for a week in the disguise of the man he had consumed, until on the eve of his leaving, he killed the man's wife and assumed her appearance and left the village with no trace of her husband or her left, burning the house and heading onwards.  As he travelled he consumed many other people along the way, be they simply someone that got in the way, knew his secret, had saw him shapeshift or even simply someone he took a fancy to stealing the appearance of.  His list of victim's even extended as far as small time celebrities and famous people.

He seemed to develop and endless hunger for death and a want to see just how far he could stretch his mind and steal other identities.
Viktor was a hard man to keep track of, he ducked and dived and made out a small living from petty crimes and never staying in one place to long to avoid suspicion.  His mind was soon only constantly swirling with the thoughts of the other people he had consumed.  It was already to late when he started to learn of the repercussion of consuming so many people. His mind was stressed and soon he could no longer sleep, the thoughts of his victims raged in his head, their anger only fuelling his further.  It was when he was 19 that he finally learnt of just how bad the side effects of assimilating other humans can be.  He was in the middle of an open city street and he began to convulse, unable to breathe, it felt like something alive and made of liquid wished to be free from him, he ran as fast as he could into a dark side street as he cough, blood trickled from his lips as, terror gripped him for a moment as he felt life pass out of him and suddenly he threw up what seemed like blood, bone and flesh.  In a pile lay what he thought must have been one of his many victims, yet it seemed to wriggle and pulse.  Soon it seemed to draw together as he puked up more.
Now before him stood a shape of a human, naked but with no definition.  The flesh writhed and twisted against itself, the face a mask of horror and rage, one that even scarred Viktor somewhat.  In fear he believed it one of his many victims and quickly he vivi-sected it and disposed off it behind a bin that he found nearby.  He left in a hurry, he felt weak and out of place, this was new to him and something he feared more knowing he could not control it.  For three years he has hidden from the world, now though, something has changed and he resurfaces in Europe, his aims and goals we can only guess but you can bet that no matter where Viktor goes, there is sure to be death and destruction to be had in his place.

Powers:
Active;  Bio-Mass transmutation:  The ability to change one's body into weapons (claws from the finger tips, hardened bone density for fists to be used as clubs or hammers, whole arm stretched and formed into a blade for slicing) and also to change the appearance of the user, physically taking on the form of anyone killed by the user and consumed by the organic tendrils that consume the body mass of its defeat victims.  Able to steal powers from superhero's if the superhero is defeat and assimilated, however using an unknown power is unpredictable and not as powerful as the true user. His powers also stretch to being able to jump and run at much greater speeds than normal humans can, using his ability to transmutate he can effectively breed 6 legs worth of force into his own for leap over up or over buildings, using the power of 6 legs to run faster for escape. Running at higher speeds allows him to jump higher from the added momentum also.
Passive; Bio-Organic shielding: Whenever an attack is directed at Viktor, his bodies immediate response is to put up a shield of spare organic matter (consisting of bones, blood and flesh) it will take the strength out of any attack but it also can be broken with enough damage and will instantly fall to flames. Electricity will not work on the shield as it has no consistency of nerves to pass on the pain signals to the user.
Character Specific Weaknesses; Mental and psychological attacks on the brain, weak emotional response due to having to many personalities within his own head all the time.

Team Position: Villain of Act 1

Colour:  Lime Green