Real Name: Ira Per Hawkins
Current Identity: Wade Cormier
Past Identities: Mason Ferrel (1969-1978), Jack Briggs (1978-1982), Liam Zurba (1982-1989), Wade Macneil (1989-1990), Cieran Liles (1990), Joe Thoms (1990-1995), Arne Tomassi (1995-2003), Alan Dussault (2003-2010), Kyle Nells (2010-2012), Wade Cormier (2012- )

Leatherneck, Toughman and Hyde. All aliases date back to the 1970's

Caucasian (Technically)

Male

64

Etna, California, USA.

Vetluzhskiy, Russia

Good/Free

5'7"

363 lbs

Stocky, thick, barrel chested. Heavy.

None

Rusty Brown

None

None noticeable.

None

Loose, baggy clothing. Hoodies, cargo pants, red/black plaid jackets with grey hoods, rain wear, heavy winter coats, steel toed work boots that are far from new with worn toes and stained leather.

Grew up in a small, mountain town, lead a normal life. Played football as a running back, was good, not not good enough for a scholarship or anything. Learned how to work on cars with his father when he was young, and carried that with him when he went to highschool. When he was 17 however, he got into a rather horrible wreck while racing down a road. split the car in half, one of his good friends in the passenger seat died on impact when the tree took his place. Best friend in the back seat was rendered paraplegic, who was also the school's star quarterback. No one quite understood how Ira was alive, and walking. The doctors and nurses were shocked at how quickly he recovered from his injuries.

That year, they lost the championship in their league of football, and his teammates blamed him for killing the star quarterback. At first they beat the living tar out of him, and left him tied in a shed over night. They were going to free him after that...but when they returned, it was like they hadn't so much as scratched him the night before. Furious, afraid, and in disbelief, they beat him down again, and fueled by liquor and adrenaline, the tied him to the back of someone's truck, and dragged him 12 miles along a gravel road. He recovered, eventually, but his appearance was now, quite different. His skin thickened, almost scaly. He exacted revenge on the former teammates, accidentally killing one of them before disappearing.

Since he left home, Ira has lived in the shadows of the world, from living in a forest for two years, and racking up two deaths from bad mushrooms and being hit by a rockslide, to living in abandoned buildings, and struggling to find work to feed himself. A lot of his childhood notions of right and wrong have been shattered over time, but he still tries to cling to the core tenets of good vs evil, and right vs wrong. He's been forced to steal food to keep himself going. He's been forced to kill on a number of occasions from anti-mutant groups hunting him, to perhaps his worst stroke of luck of being mistaken as an ally to a thief by a superpowered do-gooder who had a very zealous streak to him.

However, it always seems like when he's at his lowest, moments before the tenets he clings to finally wither into dust; something comes and renews just a little hope in him. The most empowering, and longest lasting of which was many years ago. It started back in 1971 when he was nineteen and after the rockslide incident, he made his way our of the mountains into Redding. He began living in an abandoned miner's shack on the outskirts of town. Around this time, he didn't appear too "different" to normal people, just his skin looked thickened, like he was covered in a giant callous. He got himself a job at the local lumbermill and was doing fairly well until one night, when his house was destroyed by the collision of two men, a young Joseph Carter and the man known as Buzzsaw (no one really knew why he called himself that, he was just your typical strong guy). Buzzsaw had managed to get the drop on Joseph until Ira, awakened by two jackasses crashing into his abandoned shack, got up and cracked Buzzsaw over the head with a cast iron frying pan. Thus ending his less than illustrious criminal career.

Joseph Carter, eighteen and with the power of magnetism, and Ira Hawkins decided to team up and be the "Defenders of Redding". And truth be told, they did damned well for themselves and the young, growing city. For the next seven years, they had a tremendous run in learning how to fight, how to work together, and were even rewarded by the city for keeping their streets safe in 1976. By then, Joseph had become known as Magnetron. Ira had several nicknames spawned by the press; Leatherneck, Toughman, and finally Hyde, recalling his growing "disfigurement". Ira was able to buy a car in 1976, a Toyota Celica Liftback GT. Not an expensive car by any means, but a good looking car that worked. 1977 however, was a turning point. Redding's streets were safer than practically anywhere else. Magnetron and Hyde, the Defenders of Redding were heroes. This publicity helped to fuel Redding's population boom from the 16,000 or so when Ira arrived, to 46,000 (with the annexation of a neighboring town). Following this population, and fame....was a small band of "anti-vigilantes". A group of powered thugs who saw the end of organized crime in the future due to the success of these self-styled "Heroes".

This group had a systematic plan, that was rather well thought out. Two female members stalked the two Heroes to learn about them and their habits, and then installed themselves in their lives, quickly becoming "girlfriends". Magnetron's girl was Evelyn, and the girl who became Hyde's relationship was Cassandra. Evelyn began seeding Joseph's ears with words of honey coated lies, saying that Hyde was jealous of his popularity in the town. Truth be told, Hyde sort of was. But he also understood why; Joseph was a poster boy if there ever was one; Young, charming, good looks, able to fly and wield magnetism. He even had a sharp costume. Hyde on the other hand...well, was becoming rather ugly, his power wasn't all that flashy; many saw him as sort of a body guard to Magnetron. Cassandra meanwhile, fueled this jealousy in Ira, pointing out how many times he'd been shot, hurt, and injured while Joseph usually got out of anything without a scratch. How the public liked Joseph much more.

After the women had a few months to work, the rest of the anti-vigilantes started their smear campaign. Colouring the public's view of their heroics. Shortly after, two destructive "Villains" appeared. They stole little, but damaged a lot. In short order, nearly half of Redding began to decry the Defenders. Meanwhile, they were beginning to fall apart themselves. Everything came to a head in 1978. Joseph's ego, fueled by Evelyn came to a head. He demanded to be made Mayor of Redding. By force. Ira, after a two hour showdown that destroyed three city blocks, and several hundred thousand in assorted property damage, brought Joseph down. Hard. He had killed his first partner, and the best friend he ever had. Three minutes later, he looked up into the two dark holes of a twelve gauge shotgun.

He survived. It took a week for him to regrow the parts of his brain that were damaged, the bone structure of his skull, and all of his face. A week of sheer agony. But he survived. On the sixth day, he opened his eyes to the gasping astonishment of a little girl who was crouched on stairs that lead into the dark basement, and then disappeared. Moments later, a man, three years younger than Ira himself came downstairs. His name was Kinsley Morgan. He was a doctor and had found Ira's body in the street where the people had left him for dead. Kinsley revealed that he had a massive respect for Ira and the things he had done for Redding. Kinsley had been 18 when Ira joined up with Joseph, and started cleaning up the streets. The pair had actually saved Kinsley during an attempted robbery, where Ira had jumped into the line of the gunman's aim intended for Kinsley himself. Seeing someone jump, without hesitation into the path of bullet for a stranger, to willingly take that pain and risk of death astonished the young man. While he knew he couldn't be a super hero, he could do something for people, and went to university to become a doctor. Now here he was, a wife, a daughter, and a good practice. Saving the people the Defenders never could.

For another week, Ira stayed with Kinsley, regaining his strength as the anti-vigilantes revealed themselves to Redding. Gloating in their victory. Ira left after that week. Leaving Kinsley and his family with what remained of his tattered jersey and badge, his uniform, and a note; "You're the real Defender of Redding, Kinsley."

For twelve years, Ira remained kept himself out of the light. The only thing he kept, was his Celica. Occasional situations forcing his hand in saving someone, or being stabbed in the back by those he tried to trust. Until in 1990, he dragged back into the spot light for a brief period of time.

In twelve years, his body had changed quite a bit, most of his skin turning to the dark rusty-brown scutes, making him look lizard-like, but lacking the heavier plating and scales of his current stage in life. He found himself in Lubbock, Texas. He had found work as a graveyard shift cleaner of a local school. Hired by someone who didn't mind his outward figure. He was at a grocery store, getting some food in the early morning, when he had just gotten off work. He suddenly heard the alarm as the store had just been robbed. He was there, it seemed like a small issue that he could deal with without attracting much attention; he charged out after the thugs. Only to find the three of them laid out on the ground, bleeding from wounds caused by a man who appeared to have blades for arms. Instantly Ira was mistaken for one of the criminals, and the young "Dark Blade" went after Ira.

Ira quickly subdued the young Hero, and then ran home. Figuring he'd get groceries the next day. Dark Blade however was infuriated. He got the drop on Ira the next day, and managed to sever Ira's right arm. Ira managed to get away, and stay low for three days before he ran into a young man known as Jake Collins. Jake happened to be the Dark Blade. Instantly throwing away his secret identity to catch this "ruthless criminal", Collins went after Ira. He was enraged, having been defeated, and then having this freak escape him....he refused to let that happen a third time. Their fight lasted an hour, and left several people injured in its wake as Ira tried to lead Collins away from people. But it seems like Collins had somehow increased his skills drastically in those three days. Eventually, Ira was able to knock the kid out. He went straight to his boss, and told him that he was leaving. Trying to just get away from the insanity.

A month later and in Dallas, Dark Blade showed up once more. Fully unhinged and with Ira's old boss' head in hand, claiming he was Ira's "Crime Boss". The kid seemed to have somehow increased his skills drastically once more. Practically cutting Ira to ribbons as he realized that the kid also had some kind of power to rapidly learn from his own mistakes. Couple that with his shattered ego and mental state, Ira quickly realized that this kid might finally kill him. How? He wasn't sure, but if anyone was going to, this kid might accomplish it. No longer a fight over right or wrong, mistakes or not. It was down to pure life or death. Subdue him now and leave him, and he would still hunt him to the ends of the earth, and come back stronger than Ira could possibly hope to defeat. Leading Collins into a construction site, finally away from people, Ira tried to come up with a plan to take down someone who seemed to be faster, stronger, and more skill then he himself. Finally, Ira gained the upper hand by practically letting Dark Blade get a hacking cut into his shoulder, where the blade became trapped in the dense bone and muscle. Locking the blade-arm into his shoulder with his free arm, he shoulder rushed Jake Collin's into stack of rebar, impaling the young man to death.

By then, news helicopters were on the scene, broad casting the battle between the two mutants. Ira managed to get home and escape. Fleeing to the north. Trying to get away from the blood that had been spilled in his past. For thirteen more years, he has tried to remain under the radar of the world. Living in the shadows. Moving sporadically to try and prevent the chances of someone getting hurt. In desperation to escape the law, he has fled from America for the anonymity of foreign shores for the past fourteen years.

Depression, borderline, schizotypal, anxiety

Ira was raised to be a selfless, giving, caring young man. Frequently his cynicism gets in the way of his better nature, but he tries to keep an open mind about everyone and everything. However, vengeance is not above him. Desires a better life. Wishes he could trust people to not try to kill him, or get the police to hunt him down for no reason at all.

Nothing harmful, however his physiology has been mutating to such a degree that it is debatable as to whether or not he is still even classifiable as Homo Sapiens.

Reactive Adaptation and Regeneration. In essence, whenever Wade is injured, his body regenerates, and makes that area harder to hurt the next time. Over his 64 years of life, Wade has been injured so much, that his skin is no longer skin, having hardened itself past normal animal hide, and into hyper-keratinized bony scutes akin to alligator/crocodile skin in some areas, loose scales of keratin akin to that of a pangolin, and the most heavily damaged areas of his body have formed sheets of very thick chitin, layered with enamel. These sections appear on his legs, forearms, and sections of his skull. In addition, his muscles and bone structure have become denser to support the added weight, and from the numerous impacts and broken bones he has been subjected to, his ribs especially are reinforced, with splayed ends for greater connection to cartilage. He has begun growing muscle structures throughout his body around his various blood vessels, that can seal off arteries and veins, preventing substantial blood loss.
A side effect of Wade's regeneration and adaptations is, he is quite strong and has phenomenal endurance*. While his strength is not an ability in and of itself, Wade could comfortably compete with the highly trained athletes of "Worlds Strongest Man" competitions. One other thing to note, is that it does seemingly extend his life, as Wade does not show the typical signs of aging a regular 64 year old would**.

The most obvious, is that Wade's ability is permanent. He can not change back into a human-looking form. He is permanently a "monster". His abilities are also not instantaneous, it takes time for his body to adapt to a damaging stimulus. His regeneration is quick, but it is not of the same caliber as say, the Character of "Wolverine" for a reference point. Other, notable weaknesses are: Wade cannot swim. Due to his compact mass and density, Wade is incapable of floating on water. If however, he tried half-drowning himself a couple dozen times, it is believe that his body would figure out a way for Wade to adapt to the environment. His sense of touch is almost non-existent and his ability to feel temperatures is muted, and extremely delayed except for his sensitive organs such as his mouth, nose, and eyes. From sheer mass, and body shape, he is not that fast of a runner, his overall flexibility is also rather poor.
*While Wade does have phenomenal endurance, he does suffer from exerting himself in the form of heat buildup in his body. The same skin that protects him from feeling a burst of flame, also inhibits the removal of waste heat energy he generates. This can force him to take a break from physical exertion, lest he fall unconscious.
** Wade is not immortal, drown him, burn him to ash, cut off his head, asphyxiate him, etc and he will die. Caveat however, is that all brain activity must end. Also, partial skull/brain tissue loss, vast portions of body tissue loss, while not technically killing him, would render him effectively dead in game time terms, as it can take over a month to regenerate 1/2 his brain from nothing. IE, good as dead.

Surviving, saving the life of a teenager who repaid the favor years later after becoming a doctor. Saving a young homeless super girl from killing herself, and helping to stabilize her psychosis somewhat. Other small acts of stopping small time, violent crime.

Having to kill his best friend, and several other people in self defense.

"Hurt" - Johnny Cash

Likes: 1970s, 80s, and 90s rock, metal, and alternative music. Solitude. Protecting people in need. Whiskey, Bourbon, Tequila.
Dislikes: People with "plans", predators, people who want to use him. Modern R&B/Pop music. Beer.

Wade has a small tin cookie can from the 70's with faded, worn paint, and rust at its seams. Inside the tin, is a collection of artifacts he has collected; mementos of his triumphs and failures that trace him through history. He keeps a copy of all of his false identities, along with his original drivers license and birth certificate. He has three photographs of him and Joseph; the first is a polaroid faded from the years of two young men laughing at the edge of a lake, on the bottom is written in faded black marker; 72, the second as their alter egos, a professional print that has lasted fairly well, written on the back; 74, and the final one just them hanging out on a sunny afternoon in front of the Celica, the back scrawled in a different writing, "Nice car Ira! Proud to be your friend and comrade, Joseph Carter" Under that in the same printing as the others: 76. A yellowed, folded, and mildly stained scrap of news paper from the Redding Record Searchlight that detailed the day of the conflict between Magnetron and Hyde. Several other newspaper clippings in various states of yellowing and decay. A small folding knife with a blade half rusted and pitted, a blank black button, a highway patrol officer's badge, and a blood stained half of an apron folded neatly.

Rust (Suvi Soccoli - Forgotten)

Unknown (Awakened Estimated to be between 100-150 years old. Was 22 when he perished)

Intelligent Skeleton

5'10"

Nothing more than a walking skeleton of a long dead human male, his bones the color of aged parchment with dark stains mottling his lower half. The only noticeable deformity, being the ragged gash broken through the left side Lacrimal bone and into his left eye socket of what must have been the blow that killed him, countless years ago. However, he wears what was once an ornate suit of armor that would have been worth a Knight's share, now a ruin of its former glory, though cleaned. Pitted and showing signs of metal erosion, the runes that were once engraved, now illegible and lost. Inlay and filigree eroded to dust. A few desiccated scraps of leather remain, while new works of leather and chain have been added, to hold the ill-fitting suit to his bony frame.

Tolerant, and accepting, Rust is fairly relaxed about the choices of others. He holds himself however, to a strict code of honour, in protecting those who need it, and defending himself only when his own existence may be threatened. Hard to anger, and hard to unsettle, yet he is deeply concerned about his own self in the means that he desires to understand his own memories.

Due to the fact that he is a skeleton, he has no flesh to be harmed, and no flesh to fuel, absolving him of the need to breathe or eat. He is powered by something beyond his knowledge, be it a soul, magic, or some natural phenomena he has no understanding of. Because he has no muscles, he cannot tire from work; yet he has a mind that needs rest to process what he encounters, although less time than most people. His lack of flesh and organs conspires to him lacking a great deal of mass, weighing a scant twenty-seven pounds without his armor or weapons, while the metal, wood and leather add only sixty-four pounds to his mass. Through reasons unknown, his strength matches that of the strongest men. Combining his strength, with his extremely little weight, enables him to move much quicker than many would expect. Strangely, he does weigh a bit more on average than a normal skeleton, and his bones seem to be tougher than the average bones of normal skeletons. Damage dealt to his form is regenerated, but not instantaneously. When dismembered, he is able to retain control of his limbs within a rough twenty foot radius, and awareness of where his limbs are within a hundred foot radius.

With his lack of skin, flesh and organs, comes a complete void of his sense of smell or taste. His sense of touch is reduced to a vague notion of pressure, which make it hard for him to gauge how tightly he holds something, or how hard he is hitting something. He can't tell if something is smooth, or rough very easily at all. As well, his feathery weight makes it phenominally easy to push him around in the physical sense. It is easy to lift him from the ground and cast him aside. Without connective tissue, he is relatively easy to be dismembered. Perhaps his biggest weakness (besides being a highly unnatural, walking, talking skeleton), is that his mental state isn't the most stable, as his memories, his very identity is shattered. He does not know who he is, what he is, why he is, or where he is. He doesn't understand a lot of the technology that currently exists (Would probably be more baffled by it if he DID remember his old life).

Ancient sword of once phenomenal quality, now broken, fractured, and pitted from a century of neglect. Currently cleaned and oiled to protect it from further degradation, and contained in a rather plain, modern, leather scabbard slung diagonally on his back.
Modern, single edge sabre of decent quality, retained at his left waist.
Well made Yew longbow, carried unstrung in a scabbard attached to his quiver.
Quiver/pack: A quiver designed to carry 48 shafts, along with a number of pouches contained a supply of arrowheads for making replacement shafts, tools to make more shafts themselves, or a replacement bow as necessary. Spare bow strings. Sharpening stones, two bottles of vegetable oil.

Pain, light, and sensation jolted him awake. Rust woke to find himself leaning against the shattered remains of a castle wall, his legs and lower abdomen buried under the soil and roots of the bramble thicket that had tendrils hooked into his eye sockets. Seeing his skeletal arm for the first time as he attempted to scratch the offending vegetation from his face was a violent shock of realization...mixed with abject terror and utter confusion. He didn't know why, but he knew something was wrong. Soon the realization dawned on him however, he didn't understand what was wrong, because he had no basis to comprehend. When he tried to think, understand, or draw on something...his mind give his brief, fleeting flashes of light, colour, abstract shapes that meant nothing. He knew, somehow, they were memories. It was something important. But it was like being trapped within a frosted glass bottle in the middle of a lightning storm while stained glass windows swirled around outside. Nothing make a cohesive form, nothing made a whole. Any time he thought he could focus on a shape, it would simply dissolve from his mind and leave like a dream, slipping through the cracks.

Slowly, he began to dig his way out of the ground, ripping the thick, thorny brambles from his bones, and the scraps of armor that he could not bear to part with. He found the rusted blade underneath himself, and dug it out as well, never knowing why he bothered. Scrambling through brambles and thickets of overgrown wilderness, Rust eventually just started walking. Four and a half months of walking, and he found himself outside Jek. His first approach was rebuffed by a flurry of arrows, and artillery rounds digging into the soil about him. That night, in the dark, the night watch reported the strangest sight; a figure was walking out in the cleared area, picking the arrows, javelins, and round shot from the ground, and stacking it near the road, well within longbow range, but never seeming to attempt to get close to the wall. The next day, they found the Skeleton standing behind the piled ammunition, silently waiting. They fired upon him again, and once more, he returned at night, stacking the ammunition. On the third day, a small party was formed, and a band of defenders left the wall to collect the piled ammunition, and take the skeleton as a prisoner for the time being. It complied.

After weeks of interrogation, it was concluded that the skeleton was obviously intelligent, it spoke, and it could even read, a surprise to both sides of the table. It did not appear to be malevolent nor evil. The only thing it asked for, was to be put to some use. First tasked with cleaning the prison under the watchful eyes of the guards, to loading and unloading supplies. A year passed without incident, and the Skeleton had its belongings returned to it. It soon began taking a place on the outer walls at night, watching for the approach of enemies in the darkness. To the guards of the watch, the skeleton became a comrade, it was quiet, honorable, and never seemed to grow tired of staring out into the darkness. A variety of nicknames was bestowed upon him, but the longest lasting was "Rustle", which eventually was shorted to Rust. He proved himself to be a capable archer, an a strong ally.

Yet his existence away from the wall was less than ideal. He was continually aware that he did not fit in with the populace. They were scared of him, untrusting, some to the point of hating him. Compounding this, he felt a longing to understand just what he was, why he was, and most importantly, who was he? After seeing the notice of the meeting, he decided to make a change. A written note to his commander, explaining his dereliction of duty in utmost detail, was left behind.

Standing 6'9" (206cm) in height, and weighing 243 lbs (110kg), with skin as red as Carmine, with a bright metallic silver design of swirls and dots winding up his right arm onto his shoulder, matching his mid-length, brilliant silver hair, while wearing a silver mask with elongated red horns, Yuu tends to make a somewhat imposing first impression. Behind the mask however, hides the face of a young man who was savagely attacked and left for dead. From the front half of his nose ending abruptly to elongated nostrils after it was cut free, to the thick scar tissue, traced with silver that spreads out in thick ribbons of where "DEMON" was engraved in his forehead. His eyes however, have managed to stay the same, unique selves; amber, with the right eye having a section of the iris spanning roughly three-eighths of the upper right side being faded to pale blue. It's known as sectoral heterochromia caused by mild type-II Waardenburg Syndrome.

Yuu "James" Miyata, Yuu-Oni, Yuoni, The Red Archer

22

Male

Yuu has a strong conviction in the right to personal freedom, with all of the personal responsibility that it entails. He personally does not believe that he has the right to impose his will on others, and that those who do, and act upon their will, he generally does not get along with very well. He views tolerance as an almost paramount virtue.

Tending towards being warm and welcoming on first meeting, Yuu seems to however keep himself reserved as people he has met begin to express themselves more, leading some to consider him perhaps a bit cold or aloof. The problem for Yuu is, is in many cases, he simply does not feel much of anything to what many others feel strongly about. The main reason behind this, is that Yuu tends to think objectively, naturally removing himself from the situation to try and see as many sides and facets to a conflict, or problem, and solve it in the most rational sense without much thought to the emotions of others. The things he is passionate about however, are fairly obvious as he practices with dedication that few of his friends seem able to comprehend.

To understand Yuu, one must look to the beginning; His Parents. His mother, Musaki Susumo, and his father, Miyata Ryota. Ryota came from a family proud to be able to claim that they were the decedents of the Samurai, Miyata Kiyogi, and continued to serve as noble warriors, defending Japan to the modern day. Ryota himself, had joined the JSDF when he was young, becoming a notable soldier within the 1st Airborne Brigade. He met Susumo, falling in love and they began trying to start a family, only to find out that Susumo had extremely low chances of conceiving a child. Yet, with advances in fertility drugs, the pair were able to conceive. Six months into the pregnancy, Susumo was devastated when she went into labour. The child, who would have been their daughter, did not survive three days. Three years later, however, a miracle happened; Susumo was pregnant again, and all signs were showing a healthy boy. He came early by a month, but managed to live. He was diagnosed with Waardensburg syndrome quickly, a genetic disorder that left him with being unable to hear high pitch tones, and his unique eyes. A year later, and Susumo was pregnant again for her third time, joy and elation gave way to despair, sorrow, and agony as Susumo suffered an infection that killed the fetus and nearly took her as well. This was a turning point for the woman who wanted three children; her dreams, her hopes were ripped from her on that operating table. In her own way, she felt ashamed that she could not provide the family the two lovers had dreamed of. Yet they had Yuu, precious little Yuu.

As Yuu grew older, and began taking martial arts classes at the age of four, Susumo and Ryota began talking. Talking that led to heated words. A year later, and the arguments exploded with the news that Ryota's brother had died in a training accident when his helicopter lost power and crashed to the deck of an American aircraft carrier, leaving his wife with no children of their own. Susumo could not bear to see her one and only child grow up to join the JSDF, with the world climate as tenuous as it was, the possibility of her son, her precious son joining the military and dying before his time tormented her. Ryota however, could not fathom being the father who let the family line of honorable warriors end with himin such a fashion. Yet his love for his wife, and seeing the pain she had gone through, finally forced him to relent, five months after the death of his brother. Yuu was withdrawn from the martial arts class, and was soon enrolled in a music club for his afternoon activities which he was not pleased with, but soon came to accept.

On Yuu's seventh birthday, his father came home with surprise news; He'd been promoted to act as Liason with the American military in the development of Japan's own Special Forces division. The result of this news, meant that Ryota would be moving to America to get settled in, and then Susumo and Yuu would follow a few months later. Susumo was torn between happiness and sadness of having to move, while Yuu was resoundingly unhappy with the idea. Susumo managed to get Ryota to agree to push the move date until the summer break, to at the very least, let Yuu have the full school year with his friends.

On arrival in California, Yuu and his mother were greeted with a surprise, Ryota had taken up Archery and bowery in the garage of the house that they were moving into. He explained that he had felt something missing within him during the months away from home, away from his family, and that this hobby was a connection to his ancestors that he found relaxing. At first Yuu seemed indifferent to the idea of his father's archery, but as he acclimated, and began growing connections to the other kids in the neighbourhood who were fascinated by the fact that Yuu's ancestors were real Samurai, Yuu began taking interest as well. His father even made him his first bow. For the first time since he was five, he was connecting with his father and his ancestors again, and Yuu enjoyed the growing bond.

When school started, Yuu lost contact with several of the friends he had made in the neighbourhood; some having to move away with their fathers, or others just being in different schools, Yuu became a little depressed, and started reading most of the time, partly to work on his English, and partly because he wanted to escape. It was on a field trip to an Orchard when Yuu first really met Kim, a tom-boy of the class who "accidentally" hit him over the head with a peach. When he recovered and bit into it, Yuu had a minor, childhood, existential moment of surprise and delight. Yuu loved peaches. It was better than anything he could remember from back home in Japan, better than Kazuragi's mothers sweet rice balls, which he never thought would be topped. Combine his love of peaches and his awkward name in America, and it wasn't long until Yuu earned the nickname that would follow him for the rest of his life, James; like the titular character of the book Kim got Yuu as a birthday present later that year, "James and the Giant Peach."

However, Yuu's home life was slowly getting strained, as his mother started objecting to Yuu's practice with archery, his less than perfect grades, and his mother and father having small arguments again. It wasn't long before Susumo claimed that archery was too dangerous for Yuu to practice, after Ryota made a mistake while de-stringing his bow, and caught the tip running up his cheek, requiring twenty three stitches to close it. Yuu cried at first, and then grew quiet. Repressing his resentment to his mother for taking away something fun. As his grades began to slip further, Susumo got angrier, and his father became more distant.

With his parent's fighting weekly, Yuu relished any chance he got to get out of the house, and began confiding in Kim more and more at school as they became almost inseparable. Life carried on until is father realized that the was no love left between himself and Susumo. Not ready to divorce however, and with a promotion to a senior office in Japan beckoning, Yuu's father returned to Japan, while his wife and child elected to stay in America, soon after gaining their citizenship. Without the tempering influence of his father, Susumo came down hard on her son, punishing him for getting less than 99% on his tests, berating him for his music teacher not praising him enough, any small fault was a an opening for a torrent of belittling contempt. Secretly, he wrote letters to his father, begging Kim to send them for him, while Kim supported him, keeping him from breaking under the stress of a mother who expected more than he was capable of giving.

A week after his sixteenth birthday, a long slender tube arrived from Japan, through Kim. Inside was a beautifully crafted, laminate bow, with his father's Kanji engraved in the lower bow limb, Yuu's Kanji in the top limb, and the crest of Miyata Kiyogi flanking the grip. On the belly of the bow, was engraved a poem by Basho;

Breaking the silence
Of an ancient pond,
A frog jumped into water-
A deep resonance

It took Yuu three days to summon the courage, but he broke the silence, and stood up to his mother. The repercussions of the incident significantly affected his life; he was thrown out of the home. He stayed with Kim for two days before his father took him back to Japan. He surprised his father when he chose to continue with his piano lessons, in addition to resuming his archery practice, learning the craft of bow making from his father, and keeping his grades high in school. When he revealed to his father that he was thinking of going into law, or politics instead of joining the military, his father nodded, and understood. His son was going to be a different form of warrior, but a warrior all the same.

After highschool, Yuu was accepted into the University of Berkeley, and meeting again with Kim. She surprised him again, by introducing Yuu to her girlfriend, Tricia. It would be a lie to say he was entirely happy for her, a part of him hoping for more from their friendship now, but he realized that he never really had much of a chance. He was the brother she needed, as he was the person she came out to first. Through his time at Berkley, Yuu kept himself quite busy between classes, he participated in a Philharmonic Orchestra to continue his piano work, practiced his archery and bowery after joining a small DIY group workshop, and began taking part in a debate group to work on his skills to supplement what he learned while studying law.

The day he found the Vellum letter, he was puzzled. He almost decided not to bother with it, as there was no real reason to go to some random address, except that it was just a block away from the indoor archery range. Just get off the bus and go the other direction to see what this was about, if he didn't like it, just carry on to archery a minute or two later than normal. With his two staves in their leather wrapped, cardboard tube slung over his shoulder, and the mysterious letter in hand, he left his dorm room. Arriving at the location just as Kim arrived at the same time caught him off guard, hugging while trying to figure out what the letters were about, Yuu found himself suddenly blinded by the flash of light emitted by the letter.

Awakening alone, barely covered by his stretched and ripped clothing, the young man faced several shocks fairly quickly; from his skin now being deep red, with a strange silvery tattoo-like design on his right arm, and an instant growth in height by roughly a foot, Yuu had some adjusting to do. He found his bow case, and used the remnants of his clothes to tie around his waist as some form of concealment. By the time he made his way out of the orchard to a road, Yuu was able to walk almost normally. Shortly after however, his welcoming to Fantasia was less than benevolent as three men in armor, riding horses approached him and encircled him. Calling him a demon, and telling him to hand over whatever it was he was carrying. Bewildered and stunned, Yuu complied, handing his bowcase to one of the men. The bandit opened the case and pulled out both bowstaves, looking them over and flexing them while looking thoroughly confused, as they were too well crafted for a commoner to afford, but lacked the draw weight of a bow made for a Lord or Knight, and much too large to be the bow of a Knight's squire. They quickly made the decision to sell the bows, and take the stranger to be sold into slavery.

Yuu objected. During the fight, Yuu grabbed onto the stave his father had made for him, and in trying to wrench it from the hands of the bandit, broke the man's arm. The other two responded with drawn blades, on instinct, Yuu tried to block one of the swords with the stave, only to have the sword smash it in two and leave a graving cut down the left side of his chest. The second man's sword met his face, even as he tried to escape the blade's reach, slashing down through the bridge of his nose and out. The rest became a blur that faded between life and death.

Luckily, his second coming to the world was far more hospitable. Saved by a travelling caravan of traders, makers, and healers, he came to realize that he had been unconscious for the past several days, fighting off infection as his wounds healed. He found himself a home on the road, working as an apprentice bowyer, and caravan guard, where his height and rapidly improving ability with the bow lend him an imposing figure that helped the caravan move with less difficulties that before. With working as a guard while travelling, he has been studying the melee arts as well, and while many years behind those of his own age, his physical power lends him some forgiveness with his lack of skill. One of the most notable things of Yuu, is the mask he has carved from wood; a homage to the Oni demons of his ancestry, that fits well with his current appearance.

Archery - Yuu is a fairly skilled archer, good at estimating range, accurate, and able to bend a powerful stave that will drive a heavy shaft through most forms of armor. He is however, not a master by any means, and is not the most accurate of those in his age group, as he hasn't grown up depending on archery as many have for their own safety, or for food. Yet, he seems to have a knack for it, and has learned much in his short time in this world.
Bowyer - As well, he is a competent bowyer of his own right, though currently considered an Apprentice, there is little more his master can teach him in the art of bow-craft.
Melee Combat - His training in melee combat has given him a cursory knowledge of how to handle various close range fighting implements, that he trains at for a minimum of two hours every day to improve his skills. He knows his strength alone is not enough against some of the bandits and criminals who love to prey on caravans.
Pianist - An accomplished pianist in his own right, although slightly out of practice after two years on the road, Yuu is still able to play a solid repertoire when the caravan stops near a town with a piano. Although, many seem to have no understanding of the music he plays, he has learned a handful of "local" songs.

Yuu fashioned a six inch span of the bow his father made for him into a necklace he wears constantly. A leather thong attached to both ends holding it horizontal across his chest.
While his strength and height have been augmented substantially, Yuu has grown to have an allergic reaction to beans and holly.

Tyko Vaara

23

Male

Tyko carries on a bit of his Finnish homeland's traditions in being a rather quiet introvert. It is not to say he is a loner, his at the College would attest to the fact that he is a friendly, welcoming person who seems to get along with most people he meets. He just likes to have some time alone every once in a while, usually by disappearing into the woods for a few days, or getting wrapped up in a TV, Book or movie marathon.

Rather protective of his two younger siblings, whom he raises due to circumstances beyond his control, Tyko is driven: He works a full time job, a part time job, and attends a local college to provide for his siblings as much of a life as he can. He has learned a wide array of skills due to both necessity and desire; his full time employment is as a Punch Press operator at a local factory that produces wood and gas stoves, his part time employment is as a cook at the Three Tree Bar and Grill, and his classes are on car mechanics. In his off time, he is often found in the garage of their home making metal sculptures that he sells, or modifying his old 4x4, preparing for a camping trip, at a rifle range, with friends, or helping his brother and sister with their homework.

Born in Oulu, Finland, his parents moved to Helsinki after his mother got a new job with one of the largest Biotech firms in the country when Tyko was 4. After several miscarriages, Mianna gave birth to Kiite, a baby boy eight years Tyko's junior. A year after the new child was born, the family uprooted, and moved to Alberta, where a new office was in need of Mianna's technical expertise. While the office was in Calgary, they settled into a little farm on the outskirts of Okotoks as it meant Mianna had a bit of a long commute, but it gave them a little farm, and plenty of space that reminded the young family of their home land in small ways. Roughly nine months after the move, the brothers gained a little sister named Ellisif.

The family bought a house, and soon, the mortgage was paid off by the salary of Mianna and Unuu's wages as a framer for a local contractor. Tyko was doing alright in school, through struggling a bit with math, while Kiite and Ellisif were happy little terrors of children. Which made life that much harder when Mianna and Unuu were struck head on by a drunk driver on their way home from a friend's. The accident happened on the interstate, when the drunk driver passed out at the wheel of his truck. Veering across lanes, and the median, the carnage left Mianna in a coma, with severe central nervous system damage on top of the physical injuries, she survived; but wheel chair bound after the amputation of her legs, and without the mental capacity to move or make intelligible language. Unuu suffered a shattered hip and femur in his right leg, his left arm was broken, and his collarbone fractured. It was nothing to the mental trauma of realizing that the woman he loved was essentially, destroyed.

The family laid charges and won their case against the other driver, but money could not bring back Mianna. Unuu broke down, trying escape his problems through the very thing that nearly killed him.

Leaving fifteen year old Tyko, struggling. He learned how to get his brother and sister ready for school, he learned how to cook, clean, and take care of them, his mother, and his father. He took to riding his bike to the store to get groceries when his father was too incapacitated to do it himself. When he turned sixteen, he got driving lessons from his best friend's father. He forced himself to improve his grades, for the sake of leading by example for his brother and sister. He graduated high school with honors, which was the catalyst for the fighting between his father and him for the next three years. His bitter resentment, and feelings of abandonment by his father for lacking the sisu to press on made him feel sick when his father tried to act fatherly.

Three years later, the fighting with his father finished. It culminated in Tyko and Unuu trading blows in the driveway. In the moment of violent sobriety, Unuu was overwhelmed with the realization of what he had done. A week later, Tyko came home from work to find his father in the garage, and the family car leaking cold coolant and oil to the floor. Police determined that Unuu had started it soon after Kiite and Ellisif had gone to school with his foot to the floor. He was dead long before the engine overheated, and subsequently blew a connecting rod out of the block.

At 21, Tyko became the sole care-giver of Mianna, and the legal guardian of his brother and sister.

Earth 2, Air 1
Strength: 1
Channeling: 3
Healing: 3
Elemental: 2

Stone and metal

She is a bright, inquisitive, and feisty little monster that is just entering her maturity. Her intelligence and curiosity made it easy for her to learn some things her own mother didn't know, like how to deal with locked garbage cans, or that if you wait for the animals to leave through their flappy doors, they usually have food easily accessible on the floor. Shy around humans, and their cats and dogs, having learned to avoid them by training, and experience, however once accustomed to someone, she can be exceptionally playful, and may frequently try to antagonize others into playing her games.

She has spent her short life so far in the suburbs of a small city, browsing through scraps and remains in garbage cans, pet food left on porches, unattended fruits fallen from trees, and playing with a friendly cat she met. She hasn't yet had any kits, but this coming spring, will likely be her first mating season.

Amber Bergstrom

32

Marine Engine Mechanic

Single, never married. Father deceased. Mother and two brothers unknown status.

Dark Brown

Green

156 lbs

AB-

No

Eberlestock Gunslinger pack - On back

• Hennessey Camping hammock (with winter-proofing gear)


• Heavy winter sleeping bag


• Small multifuel stove


• Dried food supplies (Packed in zip lock bags; meat, rice, beans, vegetables, fruit and trailmix)


• Small pot


• Hydration pack


• Water Filtration Kit


• Field rifle cleaning kit


• Spare clothing


• First aid kit


• 50 round box of .30 Carbine soft point ammunition (37 rounds left)


• Camera cleaning kit


• 15" laptop


• Toiletries + Toilet paper


• Fire-starting kit (Ferro-cerium rod, char cloth, box of matches)


• Take-down fishing pole


• Small tackle box


• In the rifle scabbard she carries a M1 Carbine mounted in a choate non-folding stock. The front hand guard replaced with a scout model with an aimpoint mounted. Around the butt of the stock she has a modified Carbine magazine pouch to fit the stock, with a pair of fifteen round magazines stored. One Fifteen round magazine loaded in the rifle.

LowePro Outback 100 - Waist, offset to left, belt and shoulder strap

• Pentax K-3 Camera with 50-135mm lens attached. Two 32gb cards in the camera, two more card pocket one, and a pair of 64gb cards in card pocket two - Main pocket


• Pentax 31mm pancake lens and AF540FGZ II flash - left pocket


• 2x 30 round magazines for Carbine, and a Foursevens Quark flashlight (2x AA batteries) - Right pocket


• 2x spare battery packs, pen and small pad of paper - Lid pocket

32mm Snap-on chrome-steel combination wrench (2.1 lbs, 17" long) - Custom fabbed sheetmetal holster on belt, right side.
Small, folding pair of 8x binoculars - Fabric belt pouch, right side.
Condor Hudson's Bay Knife - Leather sheath, right side

Born in Chicago to a mother, Christine, who hailed from a wealthy family from banking, and a father, Gordon, who had worked his way up to the city council from the middle class, the second of three children, her two siblings being brothers, Jake and Daniel. Amber's early years were spent being taken care of by maids and supplementary caregivers as her parents lacked the time to give the children the attention they truly needed. Still, Christine was ecstatic to have a baby girl, and Amber's life started out as if she were a princess, spoiled and surrounded by pink dresses and luxury.

By the time she entered high school though, she had a feeling of being disconnected slightly from the image she portrayed. In the private school, she was popular and well liked, dated two of of the most popular boys. Yet she found herself privately disenchanted with the virulent nature of the act she played. It was to the point where she developed a mild neurosis of trying to scrub the lies and filth from her teeth every night. Even so, she graduated high school with honors, and had scholarships to Ivy League colleges lined up for her. She rebelled and moved out with the help of one of her friends that wasn't part of the circle her mother approved of. They moved north to Wisconsin, and sought work. After a brief stint in a fast food restaurant, and a cell-phone dealership, Amber, an eighteen year old brunette, just 5'7" and weighting 112 pounds, found herself standing before Randy Collins, a 6'2", broad shouldered, barrel chested man with arms thick with corded muscle, and a deep natural tan with obvious tan lines. His pale blonde hair shaved short, and bearing a regular ¼" stubble accentuating his gruff exterior. He wore a simple white sleeveless shirt, and heavy duck-cotton, tan contractor overalls. He was a contractor, running his own construction business, fairly well known for his perfectionism, and honesty. He gave her a chance. While the start of the job was rough, she quickly began to excel, proving to herself more than anything, that she could do it.

She stayed in construction for four years, before deciding to move on to something of a new challenge; after helping to build a new section of a shipyard, she went to a technical school and learned diesel mechanics, her apprenticeship started with a small company, that folded soon after her start, but her boss took her under his wing as he moved to to one of the Great Lakes Shipyards locations, where she has prospered, and grown from a green beginner, to a talented veteran of noted skill.

She also began to find a love of the outdoors whiles she was on her own, rather well reflected in her photographic work, she began by going camping with friends, and then looking for less RV friendly places to get out to. She began hiking, and from there, getting into 4x4 trucks, and off road driving, which she was able to apply some of her skills to, but needed to learn more. She taught herself welding, pipe bending, and how to fabricate things that she needed. Strangely though, the more she got into off road driving, the more she found it to be like the kind of camping she was trying to get away from in the first place; crowded, too many people, too much noise, not enough wilderness. It lead her to sell her tow rig, trailer and Jeep after going on a short “overland” run with some friends she had met at one of the off road meets. It was the outdoor experience she had been wanting from the start.

While her work and social life was going well, her family life was not. Essentially ostracized from her family, her mother wanting to disown her, her brothers refusing to understand her, and a father somewhat distant and ambivalent, she felt rather alone. Still, when her father called her to ask for help, she packed and left. She came to learn that he and her mother had separated, and it wasn't on good terms, Amber's brothers had sided with their mother, but the main problem was that he had just survived a heart attack that had hit when he was climbing stairs at his office, he had fallen and fractured his right arm and leg.

While they didn't exactly get along that well, Gordon agreed that he needed a change of pace, and moved back to Wisconsin to a shock he wasn't prepared for; his little girl had become a hunter, an outdoors enthusiast, a welder, and a diesel engine mechanic living in a quaint little home on a small parcel of sub-divided farm land, so far removed from the three story condo, downtown urban Chicago living she had been raised in. They were at polar opposites in their political ideals, and came to arguments frequently. He hated the fact that she had firearms, was utterly appalled that she had a concealed carry license and carried everyday. The argument took an abrupt turn however, when she revealed the fact that she had fought off two would-be rapists in the past decade, one she she didn't fire on, the other had escaped, wounded, and later arrested by police.

Over the next three years, Gordon and Amber became closer, she finally found a parent, and he finally found out who his daughter really was. He passed away in 2016, from heart failure after the sixth heart attack that year. Neither his ex-wife, nor sons made an appearance for his funeral.

A year later, she found herself wandering, trying to get out of the clutches of the arctic winds and lake-effect snows in a world that now existed after the apocalypse had struck.

Flickering orange light radiating from the substantial bonfire in the center of the ring of trucks provided some illumination, but the majority came from the cold white light of battery powered tool-lights; one from the steering shaft, another laying on the ground beside her head as she crawled a little deeper under the Chevy's mud encrusted frame. Darkness had settled in over the farmer's field that was the staging ground for the off-roaders, it was the second night of the Independence Day weekend, and broken rigs were being repaired for a few hours more wheeling in the morning before the camp broke and the good folks headed home.

Mosquitoes and other bugs danced in the shafts of brilliance cut into the darkness by headlights or the soft glow of windows of RVs. A few had pitched tents, and one crazy person had an enclosed hammock strung between the roll cage of their truck, and a stout tree on the edge of the forest. Only one man was quietly passed out near the fire, and everyone cut him slack, as he had spent the day in the blistering heat running up and down the obstacles, passing information to the drivers and spotters, keeping the entire herd of off-road machines neat and organized. Everyone else that could, was busying themselves helping to fix the broken rigs, making food, or preparing something else for midnight.

Amber swatted another mosquito from her nose with a hand stained in brown and black from the grease, oil and mud her hands had been stuffed into since she had pulled back into camp. She had already helped out with a grenaded differential, swapping out the shattered limited slip for some spider gears someone else had in their spares bin, another rig's diesel engine had developed a misfire, and she quickly diagnosed the problem, and sent a runner back to town to pick up a replacement fuel injector while another problem needed help. This one had turned out to be one of the harder things to solve, trying to track down the shot valve in an automatic transmission that was temperamentally refusing to let the thing down shift, but it shifted up fine. The culprit was but a broken spring. A quick replacement, and it was ready to run again. As she finished bolting the oil pan back other to the bottom of the trans, she wiped her brow, already smeared with dirt and grime, from the sweat she was building on this humid and warm summer's eve.

Clambering from under the Chevy, she stretched, as the owner, Angelo expressed his thanks in a way she wished he didn't, “Come on Amber, I gotta repay you somehow, why not with dinner Thursday night?”

“Angie,” She knew he disliked the nickname, but that was all the more reason to use it, “You know exactly why. It ain't happening.” She flashed him a smart ass grin, before straightening her shoulders, stretching out her back to stand up proper, and lifting her head ever so perceptibly as she remembered having to do for her mother, her right hand flashed out, her fingers spread as she touched them to her chest, as elegantly as she could, “Besides,” a voice of Chicago's upper class suddenly sprung forth, eloquent, sophisticated, and dripping with sarcasm, “I have a reputation to maintain of being a cold, heartless, aristocratic princess. Dear me, what would my mother think if I dragged you home? I do say, she might disown me. Again!”

Angelo could only smile and roll his eyes, but a few of the other guys laughed. A light hand rested on her shoulder, and a deep gruff voice came from behind her when she wasn't paying attention, “Excuse me, I think this belongs to you?”

Amber flinched in a start, before she turned around and realized it was Jack. She quickly punched him in the right shoulder with a playful throw, laughing as she swore, “Shit Jackson, you need to tell me your goddamn secret already!” She looked at what he had in his hand, and realized it was the injector for the diesel engine. “Ahh, perfect, can get this in, and dinner should be ready....hopefully. Carlito's on the grill right?”

Jack smirked, a twitch of his bushy beard and the wrinkles of his eyes deepened, he was an older man, a military veteran who had settled down on his family's parcel of land in the middle of Wisconsin. It was his land they were enjoying now, just before he would plow under the fallow grasses and weeds, to prepare planting for leeks.

She smiled and tucked the small box into the front pocket of her filthy jeans, and began moving over to Andy's Merc swapped 4Runner, as she walked she pulled a rag from her left back pocket and wiped off some of the grease and ATF residue from her hands before tucking it back into its hole. Plucking the small box back, she quickly opened it and discarded the cardboard and papers into an orange bag hanging from the bumper of someone's tow-rig. A brief glance over the injector, and she confirmed it was the right one, after all, she'd been working on diesel engines for the past decade now, and the Mercs were fairly common swaps. She'd helped others with a few of them these past couple years as her name got spread around the community. Approaching Andy's truck, she waved, “Got the injector, ready?”