Appearance(Pictures not required, but appreciated): Short, coal-black hair, goatee of the same color. Both meticulously groomed, as an obsession. Dark brown eyes, vicious smile, startlingly white teeth. Lean and muscular, long arms. Jagged scar across chest, from below left armpit up over right shoulder. Thick, powerful legs.
Apparel: Prefers a Long Black Trench coat and rubber-soled combat boots. Black work pants and a white undershirt beneath. Wears a black 3 piece business suit and a yellow tie in formal occasions.
Lifestyle Notes (Marriage, Children, etc.): An extra apartment in Blake Tower, the tallest building in the city. Nothing fancy, just a place to hide.
Location (Political/Financial, Port, Commercial, Residential, or Industrial district): Industrial zone, beneath his primary property, the Evanston Metal Recycling plant, much of the East end of the Industrial district, closest to the Port district.
Afflictions: Moderate God Complex
Likes: Water, Smoke/Steam, Hard Work, Control, Fear
Superhuman Ability and Description: Called by himself as " The Conduit Effect," Jim can drain energy from nearly any source he is in direct contact with. Most often this is electrical energy, as it's the most reasonably attainable. But he is capable of draining actual life and youth straight out of a person, which he does as a demonstration of his power on occasion. He is then capable of channeling this energy as raw electrical power, anywhere from small power surges to full scale thunderbolts or EMP blast waves.
History(At least a paragraph please): Raised working with his father at the port fishery, and motherless, Jim was forced to skip school 2-3 times a month to help his father at work to keep money flowing. Despite this, Jim managed to attend college and study business. Upon the completion of his education, Jim quickly started his Metal Recycling Plant in hopes of supporting his aging father. When his father was suddenly diagnosed with cancer, Jim turned to black business, opening a hidden drug trade through his factory. As his wealth rose, he raced to save the man who had cared for him. Despite what looked like remission, Hank Evanston died at the age of 64. Spurred on by this horrible incident, Jim expanded his operations, until he ran a massive illegal smuggling operation. Buying up more and more of the Industrial district under numerous fake companies and accounts. When the vase was opened, Jim discovered his powers would allow him to solidify his empire. As he forced members of his empire into submission by fear, he thought himself the son of a god. Using his ability, he forced other ganglords into submission, forcing them to pay tribute to him. While he didn't physically own the entire Industrial District, he expressed a vast control over the area.
Follower Information(If Crimelord): Jim's followers call themselves the Wires, like the tendrils of a vast electrical network. They refer to their boss only as "The Conduit" or sometimes "The Generator." Their express purpose is to carry out his will, and they avoid petty crimes like theft or muggings. That dirty work is left to the sub-lords of Jim's empire, the Ganglords and Gangs he has forced into submission and tributation.
A slender woman of lithe build, Violetta could easily pass as one of the streetwalkers that plagued the streets in the Commercial and Political Districts, yet the scars that decorated her body would be a turn off to anyone but the darker side of the rotting city. Well groomed and polished, her dark amber eyes are a hardened contrast against the soft peach lips and rosy cheeks that adorn the rest of her face. Her dark chocolate colored hair is cut in a short shaggy manner as if someone took a pair of rusty scissors to it and left it as it was. The rest of her body, her long slender arms, her lean legs and slim fit torso are decorated by winding scars some deeper than others. The sharp knife and steady hand that crafted the rest did not find its way up past her collarbone leaving her face unmarred.
General Apparel:
Nights in the city get cold so Viole prefers a hooded leather coat padded with sheep’s fur, a rare treasure she found while exploring her new home. Besides that she sticks to basic leather boots, a variation of combat boots that allow her easier movement and do not carry the full weight of their predecessors. Plain brown khakis adorn her legs happily riddled with pockets, matching in color her gloves and the band of her goggles, the lens of those gleaming a happy purple a stark contrast to the monotony of browns.
Lifestyle Notes:
She owns a small parakeet named Glazki.
She uses him as a second set of eyes and as a warning system.
She lives in small abandoned loft in the middle of the warehouse sector of the district, it doesn’t see much traffic often it’s just a safe place for the city’s major players to store and ship their wares. Scantly furnished, with little possessions it looks and has the feel of a place left to rot in its decay, the only thing that would hint at life was a stack of journals and notepads scribbled in with half English half Russian phrases and a small window seal holding a tray of bird seed and water.
Location:
Industrial Zone
Afflictions:
Severe Claustrophobia
Likes:
Her Bird, Open Spaces, Catwalks, Nightlife, and Coffee
Dislikes:
Closed Doors, Daylight, Men, Dead Ends, and Dogs
Fears:
Being locked up as Someone’s Pet again
Superhuman Ability and Description:
Pisatel’
Russian for “The Writer”
A curious ability, any that Viole writes down, on any scrape of paper or any forgotten napkin breathes life into it allowing it to take the form of what’s written. A paper unicorn, a shield, a sword, anything within the confines of her imagination, She can use it both offensively or defensively and often uses it to entertain the orphans that run the streets. Though it does have its draw backs, it’s only paper after all. It’s only as strong as she writes it out to be, and fire can easily destroy it. Her writing speed is rather remarkable but in a rush she can’t produce the stronger creations she has brewing in her mind.
I.E.: A large black dog with razor teeth and claws.
It would produce a paper replica of those exact words, if she left off the ending clause giving the additional aspects to it’s teeth and claws it would only have that of a normal dog, or if she left of an adjective clarifying the size of it could range from small to gigantic.
It’s fickle.
History:
Born and raised till the age of 14 in the motherland, Viole lead a happy childhood and was a blessing on both of her parents. She was a ray of sunshine to the poor farmers, their little violet; it wasn’t until the taxes got to be of heavy of a burden that her parents turned their eyes towards the east, towards the promise of a new freedom and start. It was on her 15th birthday when most girls her age were to be wed off and used to gain new lands or livestock that her parents excitedly told her they had secured passage on a freighter to America. They were going to this new city built out of the ocean, she didn’t quite understand what they had meant until she first saw the city but that was many years later. Back then she was a happy girl filled with joy and excitement at the idea of a bright city, anything was better than the desolate farm she had grown up on.
They packed up what little belongings they had and where stored away in the bottom of the freighter, stowed away with other families like rats in a cage. There we’re many other young girls varying in ages but none looking old than sixteen, that was the first tingling Violetta got that something wasn’t quite right, but she chalked it up to nerves and fright mingled in with the excitement thickening the air. The voyage was longer than any of them expected as bouts of seasickness and illness soon began to spread through their small holding, claiming the lives of the smaller girls. The light of excitement soon began failing from the eyes of the passengers as they started to moan and despair praying for the long trip to be over, but the bright eyed girl with long curly locks continued to look up at the opening above them gazing fondly at the stars.
Though the journey only took a few short weeks it felt like an eternity to their small band, and as they heard the men above shout out orders and beginning to make preparations for docking they let out a ragged cheer of rejoice, long tired of eating stale bread and half rotten fruit Viole’s stomach let out a mangled growl begging for something more something new, her beating heart echoed her desire as she began to tug lightly on her mother’s skirt whispering softly in excited Russian, mingling in some of the broken English she picked up listening to the sailors. It wasn’t long before they were shuffled off the boat and lined up. A fat man in a too tight suit was waiting a small throng of nothing but street rats circled around him in a half moon looking over their small group approvingly, a strange rat faced man motioned lewdly following it up with a crude comment in English. Viole wasn’t able to understand his words but the motion brought a sharp blush to her cheeks as she took a step back behind her father, that sickening feeling that something wasn’t right returned settling in the pit of her stomach. The man, Marco Malikane, was a smalltime gang leader with a taste for young flesh and a deep enough pocket to buy and sell his young stock to the corrupt politicians of Vale City.
This was just another day for him as he walked the line inspecting the surviving girls, having some turn around and others giving nothing more but a curt glance stopping to linger looking over Viole curiously a dark lewd look flickering in his eyes, as a cruel grin spread across his face. The rest of the girls he eventually sold after having other gandlord’s break them in hoping to gain their favor but her, her he kept.
That was the end of one life, and the beginning of another.
If it was one thing Violette learned over the years of being the private pet of Malikane, that it was people would pay ludicrous amounts of money for the things that they wanted. It wasn’t something she was used to in the beginning years, most of those memories are still deep wells of pain for the young woman, memories of her tied taunt to his bed as his knife carved its way across her skin, each month was a new scar, a new lesson in the cruelty of man and a world she was never exposed too.
By her eighteenth birthday, not much of Viole’s soul was left, she was a walking corpse all life and spark gone from her eyes, they only thing she had going for her was the old man was kind enough to grant her request to learn English, sometimes even supplying her with little children’s book in Russian and scraps of paper for her to practice writing and drawing something to take her away from the iron bars that had surrounded her for the past four years. As the world around her got darker and darker her writing turned to happy times and written memories of her childhood, easily blown out of proportion to try and combat the cold emptiness seeping inside her taking hold of the once happy twinkle turning it cold and haggard, into the eyes of a survivor like so many other of the cities lost and dying souls.
Eventually the broken girl grew too old for the old man's taste, and was thrown out of his little version of sanctuary giving her away to the whims of the rest of his men, many of them had been kind to her the past years bringing her books as well or small trinkets to make a sad girl smiles briefly. The younger ones knew little about her just rumored whispers and frightened tails that their leader kept a scarred girl locked away in a cage. The bright jeweled collar no longer hung around her neck but the imprint it left gave live to those stories and that was all that was needed for even more wild tales and false truths to be whispered about her.
Many a night Viole spent sleeping curled up in a small ball in the back corner of a dirty closet away from the eyes of everyone else; during the day she scrambled after everyone else cleaning up or running small errands something to be useful or gain approval without Malikane taking care of her she had to fend for her own food and drink.
For months the small woman got thinner and weaker often clinging to a small tattered journal with all her hopes and stories written in them as if they would give her some reason to live. It was on one of her aimless walks through the district, never far from their base too afraid she'll get lost and not able to find her way back, if nothing else she had come to think of that place as a twist form of home for the past several years and knew little else of this new world she had found herself in, that she heard the sound of a small bird singing happily; it's cheerful sound cutting through the gloom surrounding her brain drawing attention from the lifeless doll as she found her feet dragging her towards the sound. There was another girl around her age dressed like all the others she had seen, a stark contrast to the white dress clinging to her slim frame, playing with a small bird feeding him seeds in exchange for his song. The soft clattering of a pebble dancing across the road gained her the attention of the two a soft gasp escaping her lips as she tried to scamper backwards a broken harsh sorry echoing after her as she turn and ran back home.
That night she laid there holding her chest wondering why her heart seemed like it was trying to beat out of it; as thoughts rushed through her head about that strange girl, how could she be happy and cheerful in such a desolate place. Violetta couldn't understand why she smiled when thinking about the birds singing the movement of her own mouth so foreign to her wondering when was the last time she truly smiled. She laid there whispering sorry to herself grimacing at the harshness and the strange sound of her own voice, she thought she had lost it during the earlier years, her left hand tracing the visible scars dancing across her right arm, the memories of each night coming back to her. Her smile soon turned into a whimper as she curled farther into a ball holding her head hoping to banish the flooding memories, the tight space of the closet slowly started to suffocate her forcing her to seek solace somewhere else, moving aimlessly she found herself on the roof of their building staring up at the polluted sky wondering what the stars behind them. The soft crackling of roof tiles alerted her to someone intruding on her solitude, as cheerful voice greeted her and the strange girl from earlier plopped down beside her.
Her name was Catalina, her and her nameless bird.
It was this strange girl that gave Viole a purpose and who taught her how to survive in this world. She took her to the pier and showed her the ships and the beauty of the ocean, how to climb cranes and buildings to escape the mundane of the ground below, to the park and the resident district where life seemed so much happier but she knew the truth that the decay lied right below the facade. The next years went by in a blur as the broken girl shifted into a stronger woman, following the pair like a shadow learning what she could and even more so learning how to laugh again and see the opportunity of her new home, a home she never wanted to learn. There were still rough nights in the beginning as she failed to grab the hand offered to her, sinking back into her own depression and decay adding a few scars to her collection on her own accord when the pain and the memories would take over again. Each time Catalina patiently waited and helped pull her out, she told stories of how they were a lot a like, but she also told a lot of stories, about her secretly being a pirate captain and that's why she had a bird.
In the end Viole knew little of her friend when she knew little about lying and deceiving people, placing too much faith and too much hope in her new mentor and friend.
By her twenty-second birthday, Violetta was but a shadow of her old self, no longer a broken doll but just as good if not better than any of Malikane's lieutenants; she had spent the past two years shadowing the old man and his ilk learning just what it was that he did and how no one had stamped him under their foot all these years. He had noticed her interest and had noticed her friend as well, he had little desire for one of his discarded pets to become a threat to his reign nor did he like the idea of someone fixing what he had spent years patiently breaking. He disliked that this one hadn't killed herself like all the others, that he had yet to throw her rotting corpse back into the ocean to be fished out to mangled for his handiwork to be recognized.
It wasn't long before his dislike and annoyance turned to hatred and spite.
The week before her birthday, he called her home and told her to bring her friend, little did they know that far away in the museum they had started the process of trying to open the strange vase, that he told them he had a change of heart and wanted to apologize for all that he had done to Violetta. She had nothing but distrust for the man and refused to go but Catalina refused to believe he had no good in him and that even he could be turned to the light and be saved just as she was. Begrudgingly she followed her friend back to the godforsaken place never falling more than a few paces behind clutching her small journal in her hand always stepping in the small birds shadow. She hesitated outside the building, as a few of the younger members greeted her with a wave, in the later years the rumors had died and she had even made friends with a few of them, not all of them she learned where as bad as the ones who ran their small ragged band. Following the happy footsteps of her best friend clinging slightly to her hand as haunted memories began to drag themselves awake the closer they got to his room. The soft gentle squeeze of her hand brought her back to reality as she squeezed back reassuringly, and there he sat on his pompous self-entitled thrown, the cage that haunted her living and sleeping dreams gleamed behind him smiling happily as if calling her back to it causing her to take an involuntary step back not far enough that she had to let go.
He welcomed them cordially and smiled that slimy smiles that still had enough power to send shivers down her spine as she tried to keep her composure and not give into the desire to run. He offered Catalina a place in their small happy family and talked about how we all need to take care of each other. Neither of them noticed the bladed cane in his hand as he walked talking with his hands, Catalina was too trusting to think betrayal and Viole to paralyzed by fear to take her eyes of the cage as his words rang empty in her ear. The small birds warning came too late as the warm sensation of blood hitting her face and soaking her journal alerted her that something was severely wrong. It was all so surreal as she watched her friend's dying body hit the floor blood pouring from her as the small bird circled around her crying out in sorrow, she felt her own knees hit the floor as she shook her friend, her voice sounded so far away as she shook her begging for her to wake up to get up. All along his cold laughter rang in her ears like it did for years before, when she finally regained her sense of self she found herself down by the pier, the small little bird clinging to her shoulder refusing to make a sound or move, warm tears streaming down her cheeks.
The next few months saw her sadness and betrayal turn slowly to a deep burning hate, as she slowly started to write down different ways for the old man to die, or perhaps burn down his precious building and possessions. Something to make her feel better in truth, the thought of revenge started to consume her as miles away the vases seal was shattered unleashing its powers on unsuspecting souls. She only became aware of her own power when she was writing a small poem about a happy little bird in Russian and it the paper took on a life of its own dancing and taking the form of a small bird that took flight with the one Catalina had left behind. She had titled the poem Glazki and by the way the small bird danced with the paper one she decided that would be his name. Taking a few weeks to explore and learn what she could of this new strange glorious power of hers, her original thoughts of revenge started to seep into her mind, and not just against him but of being able to twist and bring down the sick bastards who run the city, to have them under her thumb just like she used to dance under the old mans.
'And that the crows of the night would carry coals of dark flames to scorch this building from existence and that the wolves of the moon would rip the man from his home and from his bones to scatter them to the for winds.'
A simple line from a poem that allowed her to destroy the man who destroyed her and all that he had worked to build.
Unknowing that by doing so that she would take command of the rest of them, her first few years as a gangleader saw her redo their entire infrastructure and how they made money. Turning them from selling people and good to stealing them and blackmailing turning them into a band that could disappear with no set headquarters, recruiting and bribing other gangs to do their dirty work, to appear small and nonthreatening while constantly sharping their fangs.
By her twenty-fifth birthday Violetta was a whole new person with a purpose and an iron will that gave her an edge of confidence and an aura of amusement that none of the older members had seen in her. She was ready to make her mark on this city, though it might not be ready for her.
Follower/Gang Information:
The Knives, formerly The Liberated
The Strongest Rules
It was the old motto of her tatter band that allowed her to assume command, that and the artful way she dispatched of the old man.
When Violette reluctantly took control standing in the blood of her former captor’s blood she erected a new motto.
We Are Always Free
The Knives no longer work in smuggling in goods for the ill and perverted of the city, she had them turn their eyes towards a different way of bleeding the riches pockets. By stealing jewelry or papers, emails, photos, anything scandalous they can get their hands on or anything that be of value; things that the masters of the cities would pay good money or trade to keep secret. There have been a few times when rival gangs have tried to destroy her small band, but it’s hard to catch the ones that know the back alley of the warehouses or how to disappear into the roofing or slip down a sewer. The need for speed and agility is always in high demand so Violette is always looking to recruit young street rats for small running errands and to map the city for her own uses.
Alignment/Position: Gone mad with his new power, seeks to overtake a local gang of thugs. Not done yet.
Preferred Dialogue Color: That would be the ever so fitting f3d842
Height: 186cm
Weight: 65kg
Appearance: Samuel is a blonde by nature, but does his best to hide said fact by toning his hair to as natural shade of brown as he can find. This leads to him having shoulder length hair and aversion to growing a beard or a moustache as applying the new colour to them as well would just be too much effort. His eyes are brown like brandy, most of his facial expressions radiate friendliness and make him easily approachable, while his body is nothing of particular note. A slim character with few noteworthy muscles is a description he gives to people on that regard.
General Apparel: A gray suit with brown leather shoes and a teal shirt, typical business casual. If the need to be formal arises, he swaps the suit to a shade darker, the shirt to white and his tie to whatever he happens to fancy at the moment. He has a samll collection of them.
Lifestyle Notes: While Samuel has been in a few relationships, he has nothing going at the moment. A student of the N:th year at the local university as he puts it, even if he has graduated a few years back he still takes part in many activities of the students.
Location: Samuel lives near the park district without actually residing within it's borders, thus having a home on the edge of the eastern industrial area. The gang he is aiming for has parts of the park under their control.
Afflictions: Not completely immune to his own powers, Samuel is slow to heal wounds and/or hangovers and such, with the addition of this shaving a couple of years off his life if he ever gets to live it all the way. And with how this power has changed him, it does not seem too likely that he'd lay low.
Likes: Partying, video-games and creating computer software.
Dislikes: Hangovers, people threatening him, having to create computer software with strict time limits.
Fears: Death and on some level, God.
Superhuman Ability and Description: Degeneration Aura, or at least that is the closest of a good name he has figured out for what seems to happen around him, it effectively destroys organic tissue. Thus far he has only tested it on plantlife and once wielded it against a group of ruffians trying to mug him within the park. While inexperienced at hendling the power and unaware of the scale it can reach, Samuel has found out that the aura seems to never rest. No matter how hard he tries to shut the effect down, he finds any houseplants he spends more than three hours nearby seem to start withering away and on a conscious effort he did manage to kill a cactus with fourty-five minutes. What he does not know is that if pushed to the current limit (disregarding the not yet discussed feature of the power), the aura would kill a man within an hour and a half by damaging too much of the delicate blood circulation system, a combined effect of braincells, veins, heart and lungs breaking apart with natural regenration being too slow to save the victim. The other property of the aura is that it seems to be able to strenghten into semi-solid objects. While this shuts down the area effect, he managed to drive away the thugs that attacked him with a whip-like shape formed of the aura. Each lash burned a black mark into the target's flesh, killing the cells on it's way. He has nothing supernatural against non-living though: A rock on his way is an obstacle as it would be to anyone else.
History: Parks grew a few hundred kilometres away from the larger Vale city, back on the mainland in a town called Mercy Hill. Mercy Hill was, and probably still is, a peaceful community with nothing really interesting about it. Samuel enjoyed his childhood without notable incidents, went to school with good grades despite the otherwise reigning attitude of not caring about it and eventually came to the conclusion to aim for military service. To him it just sounded right: To serve one's country and to learn in case of emergency. What he found was none of that. Instead he was dragged into pointless wars (at the very least in his opinion), having to kill his fellow man to ensure he and his friends did well. Thoroughly disappointed in what the military ended up being, Samuel pushed through with sheer determination and headed back to studying as soon as possible. While he applied for several fields of science in different schools it was eventually the Vale City that took him in. His original plan was to learn what the place had to offer and then head back to Mercy Hill, but in the end he grew way too attached to the student community and thoughts of leaving were slowly but surely pushed aside by the idea of staying. Landing a job within the city was the final confirmation: Vale City was his home now.
One day, out of nowhere he gained his odd powers. At first he was afraid, but not much later he figured out he could use this to fight the government that had made him fight for them. Perhaps he could turn this country into the correct direction? Just maybe bringing the fight could show them... He'd need to start small though. Most important of all would be to not let people recognise him.
General Apparel: Generally seen wearing leather attire (a leather top, leather pants, leather boots) while working, as well as a mask to protect her identity. During normal days she likes to wear jeans and tank tops, and a pink hoodie in case it gets cold.
Lifestyle Notes: Scarlet usually lives alone, running from place to place as she can't be in one place too long, but sometimes bunks with her old friend Vi, who is her fence. She has a few close friends in the "procuring" business and maintains ties with them.
Location: Generally anywhere, but has a base (of sorts) set up in the Port
Afflictions: Narcissism
Likes: Tattoos, Money, Shopping
Dislikes: Authority, Rats (both the animal and the tattle tales), Spiders
Fears: Fear of Spiders
Superhuman Ability and Description: The best ability a thief could have, Scarlet has the power of Invisibility. She can maintain this at will and cannot be seen via sight, camera, or nightvision. Infa-red can still pick her up. She also has the power of telekinesis and can pick up objects or people and move them around. Scarlet does need to see the object/person in question, and dependent on weight, can take minimal or large amounts of strain on her. These powers are especially handy when stealing.
History: "You probably heard this story before. Stop me if you have. A young girl, thrusted out on the street, having to make a living for herself, probably has a younger sibling to feed and watch, so she takes up stealing. Gets off to a rocky start at first, but then she realizes she's good at it. Like, scary good. She starts small, knicking a wallet or purse, enough to go to a fast food place for some small meals or afford a drink at the vending machine. Then she starts going bigger and bigger, knabbing antiques and collectibles from all walks of life. The girl grows up like this and starts to make a name for herself and becomes this ultimate badass. Sounds cool, right?
Well that didn't happen.
This story is going to get weird. See, I come from really nice surroundings. Talking very rich here. Mom and Dad both loved me and showed me affection, so no, I am not upset because mommy or daddy didn't hug me enough. I do have a younger sibling, a younger sister. Before you ask, no I haven't heard from her in a while, couldn't care less really. I went to school, got taught really well, blah blah blah.
So what makes a girl with this beginning turn to a life of crime? Simple really. I was bored. Riding horses and jet setting may seem fine to you peons, but frankly, it gets boring real quick.
Now, thieving isn't easy. No, it takes work. Scouting, plotting, hiding, disguising, bribing. It takes a lot of work, if you're good at it. Sure you could steal a wallet and get a credit card, but technology nowadays, can spot you real easy. Big Brother in the sky and all. No no, it takes a special "talent."
I didn't realize I had this type of power until I was in my late teens. Trust me, I was beyond pissed off thinking about all the situations where invisibility would have been useful. But, bygones and all that. It was sort of an accident, but I used this to my advantage, sneaking out of the house by walking out the front door rather than jumping out my window. As I got older, I realized just how useful this ability is. On top of that, my mind can do freaky stuff. Like..move things. It's pretty awesome, I know.
I moved out of my parent's home and started off for the city. I wanted a new change of scenery. Vale City seemed like a good place to start. I was unknown there, I was invisible without having to use my powers. So I started small, robbing a museum to get my calling card out there. I apparently was found out by this woman named Vi, who got some goons to grab me. She explained she was a fence and had some clients who needed things done. She promised to pay me handsomely for them, much more than if I sold them myself, so I figured, hell, why not? And no, it wasn't because she had a gun to my head either.
Turns out, Vi was right. I was making nice money. I was able to buy myself a nice apartment, some nice new clothes, and anything else my heart desired. I noticed a flaw though. I couldn't stay in one place for a long time, less I make myself known and am targeted. So I move around, going from place to place. It's not all bad, I've had a lot of fun doing so.
So yeah, no rags to riches story here. If you want that, open a fairy tale."
Follower/Gang Information(If Crimelord): Not a Crimelord
Appearence: A portly man, who is still tall and intimidating, Lance has a heavily bearded face, with short black hair which is starting to grey. He has muscular arms and big hands with wide stubby fingers. He has large ears and a misshapen nose, which was broken but never healed correctly. He bears multiple scars, but the most obvious are the two on his chest, both gunshot wounds. They come close to meeting in the center of his chest, but don't.
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Height: 6'7"
Weight: 270 pounds
General Apparel: Always fashionably dressed, Lance most often is seen in a black longcoat with a fedora on top, underneath, he wears a black vest and tie, with a white undershirt. His shoes are expensive black dress shoes.
Lifestyle Notes: A wife, a son, and a dog.
Location: Controls the port, though his family used to control much of the city
Afflictions: He is dying of an unknown illness, if not for his powers, he would have already died, but they can only slow his approaching death.
Likes: His family, loyalty, bravery.
Dislikes: Suffering, of himself or others, being manipulated, violence.
Fears: Spiders, Bees
Superhuman Ability and Description: Regeneration, Lance can take fatal wounds without any ill effect, though any damage to his brain would kill him, he is able to regenerate even lost limbs. Opponents are often surprised to have thought Lance dead, only to see his wounds close right in front of him. Despite this, it can lead to some setbacks, if Lance has broken bones, they might not set correctly, resulting in medical attention to fix the mass of bone fragment that is now his arm, he also cannot force foreign objects out, leaving him in a state of constant pain without medical attention.
History: Born to the prestigious Vitanza crime family, Lance was pampered from birth, given an entourage to cater to his every whim. However, his father had to earn the respect of his own father, meaning that Lance was tutored on the importance of being humble and kind at every opportunity. Lance was raised to inherit his father's business, and carry on the family legacy, something that Lance did not enjoy. Lance hated violence and crime, seeing it as cruel and meaningless, nevertheless, he was taught gunplay and martial arts. As he aged, Lance was put into higher and higher positions in his father's family hierarchy, eventually controlling a quarter of his father's territory. Lance was a natural leader, and people loved him, those who his gang protected, and those who served under him. Eventually, his father retired, and Lance revealed his plans for the city, he would take over the rest of it, stopping all warring criminal enterprises, and preventing violent crime. He was laughed at for this, they stopped laughing when Lance burnt a known crack den to the ground. The ends justify the means in Lance's mind, and those means are more brutal than any of the other crime bosses on the block. The Vitanzas became dreaded, stories being told up and down the east coast of Lance's legendary brutality, all of them true. Due to his status, Lance became the target of many assassination attempts, surviving one barely, being shot in the left lung. The other one, he got lucky. Shot through the heart and left for dead in the basement of a warehouse, a wisp found him, and Lance left, alive and well. When he complained of unbearable chest pain, a surgeon cut him open to find a bullet, resting in his heart, and more peculiar, cutting the heart open had no further ill effects. Returning to the underground with this new ability under his belt, the streets would fear the name Lance Vitanza
Follower/Gang Information: The Vitanza family are known for their brutality and loyalty. They are proud, ruthless, and cunning, they'd never commit terrorism, but they often commit broad daylight assassination. Organized in the traditional mafia system, going from soldier to capo to underboss to the don.
Appearance: He looks like a giant man, his skin however is pale and different colored. His two eyes don't match and his whole body just looks wrong. Several steel-pieces seem to pierce trough his skin.
General Apparel: Long Coats, Suits specially fitted for his monstrous body
Lifestyle Notes: Living alone. Location: Top Floor of a Apartment Complex in the ghetto of the Residential Area his gang controls.
Afflictions: Adams body does not work like a normal humans. He does not heal or age.
Likes: Outsiders, Books, his Superiority
Dislikes: Humanity as a whole
Fears: -
Superhuman Ability and Description: Adam has more strength in his body than any normal human being could ever hope to achieve. He can break a mans bones with just one hand, can punch through solid brick walls and bend steal with ease. Killing Adam should also prove to be extremely difficult, he can brush a pistol bullet of like a normal man the bite of a mosquito. He is also able to stitch up most damages by himself if he has the necessary tools and materials. Also different is his brain, it functions in many ways much more efficient than that of a normal human being. Adam can basically remember anything he ever read, do math with the speed of a calculator and process information at a much faster rate.
History: Created by a Vale City Doctor who wanted to use the residue of the wisps for medical purposes as the ultimate experiment. Adam was created like the creature of some tale from heaps of flesh, skin and organs with the addition of 21th century tech. That was nine years ago. His creator immediately abandoned him, leaving the creature to fend for itself. However he did not only create his monster strong but also smart. The newborn being learned English fast trough books and listening. When he first however got in contact with humans the screamed, called the police, fired bullets and threw stones at him. He decided when humanity would see him as a monster and give him only hell he might just become a monster. Adam used his ranks to rise in the underworld thanks to his brute strength and intellect. He quickly became the leader of his own small crew, later his gang, The Rotten.
Follower/Gang Information: The Rotten are that kind of gang you really don't want to mess with. Founded by Adam with the outcasts of society, the Rotten consisted manly of Orphans, Mutants and Street folk. They began to flock to Adam as their savior, giving them a place and power for the first time in their life. They control large parts of the Residential District, though manly its Ghetto. However they traffic drugs and weapons into the whole district. The Symbol of the Rotten which is sprayed all over the city is a human skull with two crossed fists in the background. In the Ghettos, nearly no one is feared, hated, loved and respected as much as Adam.
Alignment/Position: Evil, Independent Agent. Preferred Dialogue Color(please put the color code): F0E68C
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 158 lb.
Appearance: Aleksandr is a tall, lean man, with dark brown eyes, which are usually almost covered by his long brown bangs.
General Apparel: Alek wears a hoodie over a white dress shirt, and washed grey-black jeans. He wears black leather gloves when on the job, as to not leave fingerprints. He wears black boots with good traction at all times, and warm wool socks. It gets cold and rainy in Vale City.
Lifestyle Notes: Since he graduated from college, he has lived alone, in his apartment in a pretty swanky building by the Pier on the North Side of the Residential District. He has been thinking about getting a cat. Cats are cool.
Location: Apartment in the Residential District.
Afflictions: Alek has mild bouts of vertigo. Luckily, these appear quite rarely, but in extremely stressful situations (i.e: A gunfight on top of a skyscraper, a car chase along the edge of the docks, etc,) he begins to feel dizzy, and his depth perception begins to go, at distances beyond arms' reach.
Likes: Cats, music, money (lots of it,) and one-upping the arrogant.
Dislikes: Needless cruelty, arrogance, those who go out of their way to inconvenience you.
Fears: Not dying, but being hurt beyond the point of recovery, and then becoming either comatose or crippled.
Superhuman Ability and Description:
Speed Calling Alek can draw upon a hidden reserve of speed, in either small bursts, or a long period of time. He can go up to 60 MPH for a 3 second burst, or up to 20 MPH over a 3 minute run. It gets exponentially faster, as the time gets shorter. After which, he simply cannot move that fast, as in, he cannot reach that speed until twelve hours have passed. His senses and reactions are adjusted so he can react to things while moving that quickly.
History: Alek was always that one rich kid. Everybody knows him, that one guy who always had the latest phone, the best clothes, and threw all the parties? Yeah, that was Alek. Born to a fairly well-off banker, and a rich newspaper mogul, Alek got into the best of private schools, and eventually, colleges, all while keeping his powers secret.
He received a wide education in engineering, mechanical and architectural, and had planned on becoming an architect, before both of his parents were killed in a highly suspicious 'accident'. Normally, their child would get the inheritance in the will, but due to a legal issue, the Bank of Vale City took their millions, and left Alek penniless. Due to this, Alek looked into their deaths, and discovered that the Vale City Bank system had hired a man called 'Mongoose' to arrange for their demise. Hunting him down, Alek found and killed 'Mongoose', but the money was long gone.
A bitter Alek turned to crime, and began to use his powers and skills to rob banks discretely, take out gangs, and orchestrate traps. He is for hire as an entry/retrieval specialist, 'fixer', and cleanup agent, but his prices are exorbitant.
Appearance:Cole is tall for his age, but it isn't often realised as he's usually leaning over his opponent, staring sadistically into their eyes. His face often is a mix of twisted insanity and slyness, his wide eyes glaring at his opposer - only a few minutes staring at his sick expression is enough to make a man cower in fear.
General Apparel:When not on the job, Cole will be seen in black trousers, with a chain hanging from his right hip. His shirts include short-sleeved or vest like shirts, in a a variety of different designs that reflect his mischievous side. He also sometimes wears hoodies, and these are mainly black or grey.
When on the job, however, it's an entirely different story. He sports trousers similar to his casual ones, and wears a long, black trenchcoat and silver chain necklace. These are accompanied by a grey waistcoat and white shirt. If in battle, he will remove his trenchcoat, leaving only his chain and waistcoat, and often rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing part of his dragon tattoo.
Lifestyle Notes:Cole once had a wife and two children before he became the man he is today.
Location:You'll usually find Cole lurking around the alleys of the Industrial District.
Afflictions:Whoever hires him for an assassination.
Likes:Torturing others, messing with people's minds, murdering people and inflicting fear on others.
Dislikes:People taller than him, the police, the authorities, heroes and germs.
Fears:... *cough cough*
Superhuman Ability and Description:Cole's powers match perfectly with his alias & personality. He has the ability to inflict fear upon his opponents, and even make them attack their teammates out of fear that they'd be betrayed by them. A higher rate of this power is that, if enough fear is inflicted, he has the chance to even turn somebody insane, or make them commit suicide. Another one of the abilities he has gained is that he has incredibly fast reaction time. He could probably catch a bullet if he concentrated hard enough. Equipment Cole carries a dart gun, and takes it with him everywhere. The ammunition for it is:
17x Sleep Darts
Causes the victim to sleep for 10 - 30 minutes
9x Poison Darts
Causes the victim to die within 3 minutes
10x Hallucination Darts
Causes the victim to hallucinate their worst nightmare
He also carries fifteen throwing knifes, five with the sleep effect, five with the poison effect and five with the hallucination effect. Strengths
A tough egg to crack.
Very agile and capable of outrunning most people.
Can take down two people at a time, very slim chance that he can take down three.
Incredible reaction time.
Able to pinpoint the weaknesses in a person if he gets to know them.
Weaknesses
If tired out enough, his combat is incredibly weak.
Even though he has the capacity to, he cannot catch bullets.
Able to withstand mental torture.
If his memories are restored, he would more than likely commit suicide.
His violent nature can get the best of him.
History:Cole Joseph Erickson once had the perfect life, surprisingly. He was a physicist, had a loving wife, two children (with one on the way), and a $3,000 check in the post addressed to him due to his work on a life changing serum. The serum, once completed, was going to be able to cure the mentally ill. The first few days of testing hadn't been all successful, however, and they lost three subjects in total. It only got worse.
On the sixth day, something tragic happened. The test subject broke free of his restraints and stabbed Cole with his own serum. This caused his brain to be disfigured, and it sent him clinically insane and made him incredibly violent. However, the serum also drained his memory of his past life, leaving him no clue of who he was or why he was there. His family had gone down to the labs immediately after they'd heard what happened, but Cole himself broke free of the guards' grip, and murdered everyone there, including his family. He escaped shortly after, and was pursued by the police for a week.
That week went by, and the police didn't manage to find him (despite a few close calls). He was lost on the streets, alone, with no clue of what to do or who he was. However, an anonymous group found him, and taught him how to utilize his new powers that he had gained. They turned him into a criminal; a murderer. He went off and became a gun-for-hire, torturing the innocent and gambling with the guilty.
Appearance: Lucia is a curvaceous woman with an hourglass body shape. She has brown eyes and shoulder length dark brown wavy hair.
General Apparel: Lucia favors well-tailored clothes in muted colors, often black or grey. Her style can be described as feminine, tasteful and timeless. An example of something she would wear is an off the shoulder top paired with form fitting jeans and high heeled boots.
Lifestyle Notes: She lives in the house of her late husband, Marco Scordia. It is a stately mansion, with lavish furnishing to show off their wealth. Lucia is the only resident of the household.
Location: A mansion in the Residential District
Afflictions: Lucia is in mourning for both her mother and husband. It affects her mood and mental wellbeing. She lives by the day, surviving would be a better word
Likes: The occult, nature, religion, family, cooking, Italian food
Clairvoyance, the power of "clear seeing" This power covers a very wide range of capabilities. The user can gain a direct visual information about an object, person, location or physical event through means other than the user's physical sight and allows them to act when they are unable to use their eyes. Clairvoyance is not limited by time. Lucia is able to gaze into the past and future as well as the seven planes of existence which includes the astral plane, the home of all spirits and immaterial beings. She has little to no control over much of her power and uses a deck of cards to both augment and trigger her clairvoyance. It is very much up to the Universe/God or whatever one would call it to allow her clairvoyance to function.
What she is able to control is her auric sight. It allows her to see the aura of humans. The aura is a normally invisible field of energy that surrounds every living thing. She can use it to sense emotions, health, power levels, and see the thought forms attached to the aura. Thought forms are clouds of thought/spiritual energy which depending on their color and shape tell her what's on her targets mind, but not their exact thoughts. For example a pink cloud represents affection, an exploding cloud of red means anger etc.
History: Lucia was born and raised in a traditional Italian family. The sole daughter of a happily married couple, or at least they seemed that way to outsiders. The Segreti family had many secrets among their members, some were passed down for generations, burdening the young generation with their weight. Included amongst them were painful events like the abuse of children, a crime of passion, deceit and betrayal. Yet there was also the great occult legacy into which she was initiated. Lucia's mother wanted a better life for her daughter, one free of all this. She along with Lucia's grandmother supported the young girl in everything she did. Her childhood was carefree and happy.
Sadly history often repeats itself and Lucia soon learned of the dark past of the Sergreti family. Then at the age of 19 she married Marco Scordia, who came from a family with a past to match hers. Their similar upbringing is what drew them together. Marco was a wealthy man of sordid business. He was well known in the Underworld of the city. In the year she turned 23 tragedy struck Lucia's life. Her mother who had been suffering from lung cancer lost her battle after three long years. She had little time to grieve and cope with her loss when her husband was assassinated only a month after. There was not a shred of evidence to be found and a whole list of suspects. Lucia now crippled by grief tries to continue with her life. She maintains her position as an informant to any and all who seek answers but she knows grief muddles her clairvoyance, so she is picky in deciding if and who she gives information to.
Name: Vincent Johnson, aka Prophet Age: 45 Alignment/Position(Good/Evil, Gang-Member, Crimelord, etc.): Lawful Evil Crime lord Preferred Dialogue Color(please put the color code): [color=8882be][/color] Height: 6'3 Weight:250lbs Appearance(Pictures not required, but appreciated):
General Apparel: Prophet is often suited, it is widely known that he'd rather look good than win- though he rarely loses. A bigger gentleman, Vincent favors the classic three piece suit over something more contemporary, he looks like he walked right out of a Dick Tracy comic. Lifestyle Notes (Marriage, Children, Pets etc.): Prophet is a ladies man at heart, if he has a weakness, it is a willing smile and a pair of breasts. He has a number of children, but he claims none openly. Honestly, the man could probably open an orphanage. He has a pit bull named Zeus- he's honey brown with yellow eyes. It is joked that the dog is the only consistent bitch in his life. Location (The City is home to 5 districts, choose one: Political/Financial, Port, Commercial, Residential, or Industrial district; describe which parts of the district your gang controls, or where your hero lives):Prophet aspires to be a politician, so his struggle is in keeping a clean image in the midst of all the profit that is to be made illegally. His network is primarily in the political district, spilling over to the port for reasons of utility. Afflictions: Aging. Likes: Dogs, women Dislikes: liars, rats, children Fears: exposure- being lied to, being betrayed Superhuman Ability and Description: Telekinesis (Movement) Pushing/pulling objects with his mind. The larger the object, the closer that Prophet needs to be to it to move it. Further concentration on an object (and further familiarity) allows him to affect properties of the object, to be learned in later levels. History(At least a paragraph, preferably more): Vincent was a scholarly student, with a swagger to match his brash attitude. At first, the young man's intellect allowed him a finer education, but after high-school his parents died in a shootout in the residential district, and he was forced to abandon his exploits to fend for himself so he did not end up in the foster system. He immediately took to the streets, gaining favor as a means for survival. There was a time where he was no longer surviving, he was thriving. It was at that point he adopted his following. Specializing in smuggling illegal goods from one district to another, Prophet easily builds relationships and adds to his territory, which is more of an agreed courtesy between the more violent gangs. Follower/Gang Information(If Crimelord): The BLC (Blacklight Cartel) Spies, information and intrigue are his main caveats, he only has two assassins, though they are formidable in their own right. The majority of his contacts are just that, contacts, and not street thugs. He doesn't have the manpower that other bosses do, which allows him for some interesting alliance prospects.
