”I'm determined to clean this City up. And I don't just mean the crime!”
|| NAME ||Francois Victor Averymon
|| GENDER ||Male
|| AGE ||Thirty Years Old
|| Country Of Origin ||England
|| Accent ||English
|| SOCIAL STATUS ||Francois belongs to the House of Lords but has a rather scandalous reputation.
|| APPEARANCE ||Standing at a rather tall 6'1” Francois has what is clearly a rather muscular frame and what many would call a “boxers build.” Typically he keeps his medium length bright blonde hair beneath a top hat or cap of sorts; on the rare occasion he is hatless he can often be seen with his hair parted down the middle and neatly combed in a manner that makes it appear rather symmetrical. Like many men of the time he keeps his face completely clean shaven aside from the ridiculously big push broom of a mustache that clings beneath his somewhat crooked nose.
The way he walks and carries himself radiates and aura of both authority and danger- his large jaw that juts out quite aways combined with his thick cheek bones and oddly squareish head adding even more to his naturally intimidating appearance. When out and about on the streets he usually favors the now falling out of fashion three piece suit-during the colder months however he is almost never seen without his thick brown fur collared knee length topcoat.
In Costume: When “suiting up” Francois first puts on a full body piece of somewhat loose clothing that rather resembles a modern day flight suit. The ugly beige fabric was actually created by Francois himself to be far more fire retardant than most materials that were capable of being used in the production of clothes. Ontop of this homemade fabric clings a brilliantly polished steel cuirass fastened tightly together with an even number of equally spaced leather straps and buckles. Shaped into the very backside of the cuirass as if cast from a single mold is what could only be described as some strange mixture between a miniature stove with the shape of a barrel. Like an actual stove there is even a small square door complete with a mini turn handle that would allow one access to stoke or add fuel to the would be lit fire inside. His feet, right hand, and groin all wear the same well crafted protective steel armor that make up his rather odd cuirass.
Despite all this the strangest piece of his “work” outfit is by far the large brass tube shaped funnel that completely encases the better part of his left arm to the point that it resembles a cannon more than an appendage. If one were to look into this tube they wouldn't see Francois' hand as they might assume but would instead see what the human eye would register as an empty gun barrel. Connecting to the underside of what quite literally is an armful of brass and into the empty chamber is a rather thick leather hose that has been worked and fitted with great effort to seamlessly blend into the two twin openings located on the side of the furnace looking invention on his back and the brass cigar shaped barrel that was his arm-Two similar looking hoses can be seen attached at the back of his heels that then smoothly go on to hug the sides of his legs all the way up into the underside of the stove like contraption on the backside of his shining cuirass.
To top off what many would consider a gaudy and flamboyant appearance is the knight helmet of old he wears completely obscuring his face-he himself however is well aware the helmet is as modern and unique as the rest of his fabulous creations; plus it looked good, or so he thought. He was especially fond of the small swan head that was ornately built into his slatted flip down visor: whenever he had the visor shut the open beaked swan would be craning its elegant neck downwards to look at you.
|| PERSONALITY ||To those that do not know him Francois can come off as a bit cold and indifferent-this however is just a rough facade he puts on when out and about the streets of London. In truth those that really know him often find him to simply be somewhat quite and rather contemplative with a bit of a temper that he would never admit to. He is also well known to be fiercely loyal to God, Queen, Country and family-if he truly perceives an insult to any he is likely to openly challenge who or whatever entity is about to incur his wrath. Some odd quirks about him are that he is a bit of a neat freak and a tad controlling in what is a somewhat comical manner-often because he doesn't wind up getting what he wants and is to gentlemanly to do anything aside from guffaw and harrumph.
|| SCIENTIFIC ACHIEVEMENTS ||-Graduated from the University of London as his class's Salutatorian.
-Holds several minor degrees in the fields of math and science.
-Deeply involved in the pursuit of harnessing steam for mechanical purposes.
-Has developed several small scale steam inventions ranging from fully working model air ships to steam powered steamers-an invention that quite literally steam presses and hangs clothes on its own accord at a decently steady pace.
-His greatest invention, at least in his mind, is what he simply refers to as his Steam Suit.
|| SPECIAL GEAR/SKILLS ||-When “suited up” Francois basically becomes as eye catching as one can possibly be.
-His brass cannon of an arm has the capability to blast out long concentrated bursts of scalding hot steam-in addition to this he can turn the thing into a blunderbuss of sorts if he so desires by doing little more than tossing something solid down the barrel before firing.
-His “boost boots” can give him a decently high boost into the air.
-He is a very good shot with the five barreled handgun he keeps stowed in a small funny looking metal holster riveted into the right hand the side of the protective armor worn over his delicate parts.
|| BIOGRAPHY ||To this day Francois isn't sure if he was lucky or extremely unfortunate to have been born to what was quite possibly the oddest and most eccentric couple England had ever seen. His Father, a once rather handsome fellow from a rather low but well respected upper class estate, had always been obsessed with the very nature of adventure-be that trying a random new tea every single morning or his propensity to just wander the dirtiest and deadliest parts of the city at random. His fathers inability to not take risks naturally carried over into the family business for the worse unfortunately; a business that until that time had been the ownership of two fairly typical large cotton mills.
Before his father had the time to truly ruin the business through a lack of attention and just overall mismanagement (several gossiped he was to kind to the common folk) he met the woman who would eventually become Francois' mother. Luckily for him not only did the two genuinely hit it off but she was quite literally a genius. In fact she was so smart and business savy that within months of being married she had turned the company completely around before quickly selling the lot of it for a rather large penny-A large portion of which was poured into improving the own large vineyards she herself already owned in France. The remaining money was halved, part of it being set aside for family living expenses now that Mrs's had two buns in the oven so to speak: the other half was spent on commissioning a handful of ships that over the years would grow into a fairly successful trading company.
After Francois was born he lived a rather different life from most of his wealthy peers-instead of being raised by a team of nanny's and butlers he more often than not was just glued to his fathers side. His father, not the type to shy from open affection, didn't mind this at all and was instead delighted to teach the boy all sorts of things as he went about the business of running the now rather well known Averymon Trading Company located in London. Always encouraged to read and think for himself Francois would have constant debates with his brother via letters-oftentimes the anticipation between rebuttals causing him much anxiety.
Clearly a gifted child he was quickly given regular schooling by several advanced tutors when not being taught business lessons from his father. This eventually lead him along the path to college and furthered the pursuit of his life long passion: Steam. To this day he could remember the first time he'd seen the true power of steam as a child.
It had been a particularly cold winter day when out walking with his father they happened by just in time to see some poor excuse for a boiler that was being used to heat a chunk of housing units, that were really little more than kindling, explode with a devilish roar. The sight of bloodied bodies and the now spreading inferno barely clung to his memory though-no, the one mental image absolutely seared into his mind was that of the pure cleanliness left behind in the chaos. Having lived in London his whole life he'd never seen such...beauty. It was a memory he found so profound and religious that even today he can often be found thinking on it for no other reason than to make himself smile. Ever since that day his soul mission in life was to bring that amount of cleanliness to the world.