Name: Jonathan Alyos

Nickname: Blade (Becuase of his skill with more tradiotional weapons.

Age: 25

Appearance(pic is not necessary, but please get at least 1 pharagraph of text up detailing basic clothing):

Personality: Loyal to no ends, ruthless, quiet.

Biography:
In a time of technology, wonder, travel and innovation the Alyos' were simple, and traditional. He comes from a family of soldiers, they claimed to trace their heritage all the way to a time where swords were made purely from iron and men fought in close, brutal combat. Ever since those day's his family has always said one thing, the one thing that hanged above the mantle of their old-fashioned house, 'Fealty to One', his family has always beleived in this.
If you asked any of them 'Honour or Loyalty?' they would answer Loyalty, for the Alyos Loyalty is everything. Some familys have faith, others academia, or music but the Alyos, they have battle and loyalty. Jonathan's father was a soldier of the government since he was old enough to enlist, his brother served the Mafia to his death, his mother served the family in domestic manners until she perished.
The Alyos' had a strange education they used, the children would go to school until they wer 12, from then on they would train in battle, although some Alyos' have trained in other things. Jonathon decided to follow tradition and trained in the ways of combat, his father and mother trained him.
Jonathan trained hard, like all Alyos' should, his training started when his parents handed him a knife. They taught him how to use his body as a weapon, how to use a simple knife. A tool largely disregarded in such times, as an effective killer. They taught him that life was worth nothing if you weren't loyal, and tratiors were the scum of the earth. They taught him many things, and at the end of his training when he was 18 they handed him a knife, and a pistol and gave him his final target, a merchant who had recently lied his way to wealth and betrayed contracts. The Alyos' final test was always such a person, someone they beleived to have commited the worst of crimes, for they weren't evil people and didn't enjoy killing for the fun of it.
Jonathan nodded, accepting his mission and gripped the knife tightly before putting it in his boots. He hid the pistol in his coat and set out into the night, ready to kill this person, no, this Traitor. He found the merchant walking down the street and knew this was his moment. He calmed down his rapidly beating heart and pulled up his hood.
He was death. He was silence. The words of his parents pounded in his head as he approached the man, he came up behind him and whispered in his ears "We know of your betrayal. You have broken the trust of someone you swore too, and now you die" Jonathan had the knife in his hand, he could feel the cool metal of the handle and stabbed the man in the back, the blood dripped on Jonathans hand as he pulled the blade out and saw the first man he had ever killed, the kill that would stick with him, fall to the ground. Then he ran like hell out of there, careful to leave no trail.

Since that day he has honed his skills, but he didn't have to choose a master until he was 25 as is tradition, on the eve of his 25 birthday was when the wormhole become unstable and his family died. Then after he had survived he started putting his talent's to use until the Devil Runners approached him, offering membership, he quickly accepted. The old Alyos family motto pounding in his head as he did. Fealty to One.

Unique Trait(what makes you so unique to fit in here? Possibly a trait or a skill, but you can choose): Skill with blades and other more traditional weaponry.

Equipment(please include a gas mask by default, and be fair with weapons and armor. The era of tech is mainly gauss, with some traces of laser and plasma. Also no snipers, mobility is key): Gas mask, a semi pistol that is worn on the right hip for easy access, an assault rifle with a shoulder strap, Plasma Katana worn on the left hip and used when possible as it is one of Jonathan's favorite weapons, knife that is sheathed in a scabbard on his thigh.

Motto: Fealty to One.