Name: Tohi Li/Tony Lee
Age: 47/333
Gender: Male
Race/Nationality: Japanese-American, bonded with a summon.
Appearance: 6'6", 210 on a long lean frame. Yes, he has claws.
Personality: Impulsive, brash, catty. Cocky to the point of overconfident and refusing to admit when he's wrong.
Abilities: Feline physiology:Night vision, scent, 30 foot standing jump, superhuman agility and balance
Superhuman speed: He operates at ten times the speed of a peak athletic human. He can run a mile in 30 seconds giving him a speed of 120MPH. He can act, react, and strike at ten times the speed of other black belts(world record is 347 punches in one minute, assume average 300 for peak martial art athlete, divide by 60 is 5 strikes in one second. He can land 50.)
[This is by no means ANYTHING compared to quicksilver or the flash who can pop in and out of the sound barrier at will or even travel at the speed of light/radio waves]
Demonic endurance: Between the feline physiology and the decaplexed speed, he can heal wounds in one tenth the time of others and burns through pharmaceuticals almost too quickly to be of any use.
Biography: Tohi Lee was a good old southern boy from Tennessee, his grandfather had faced the troubles of being an immigrant Japanese after world war two, it didn't get much better after the Korean war or Veitnam war. So he abandoned most of their Asian trappings and even paid for the surgery to widen his families eyes. It was as much an act of shame as it was needed to survive...Then Bruce Lee came out and everyone was all about martial arts, including his son, Tohi's father.
In almost a flip reversal, he tried to turn their Japanese family Chinese instead and started going by Li instead of the family name of Ri (management) which eventually became 'Lee' because of some bad paperwork. But Ri,Li or Lee, they were still Japanese people living in the south, and all that implies. His grandfather and father both taught Tony/Tohi(spruce) how to defend himself and he was enlisted in one of the few Karate studios established back in the 80's While his dad worked as a mechanic to pay the bills. Well you can't work on cars in the south and not be a race fan, it's a rule. So one year he saves up his income tax return and takes the family to see the Indianapolis 500! Instead of Disney world...thanks dad.
Depressed about having to watch cars go in circles, he was caught completely unaware when a superhuman crisis occurred. Someone summoned a demon in the Indy 500, a speed demon.
This cat ran circles around the drivers in their cars and caused massive chaos. Exploding cars, burning fuel, screaming people, and a dying demon caught up in the crash next to a boy who would not make the next minute. They struck a deal of desperation; it would ride in the boy and give him all the powers he possessed. But after 333 years, three mortal lifetimes, the demon would be free again and the boy would go to hell. Or, he could die here, un-confessed, with sins on his soul, and go to hell now.
Hoping to earn enough brownie points in the next three hundred years, he agreed. And as soon as he pulled himself from the wreckage, he got locked up for being mistaken as the speed demon that caused the damage in the first place, technically a half truth. His family was contacted upon discovery of his incarceration by the government of Mundi trying to get a-hold of itself but loosing, they would lift his sentence to community service and time served if he helped them get a hold on their country.
Fifteen years later, he does what he can when he can with special dispensation. He served five years with the defense unit when the world was still completely bat-spit crazy. But after half a decade in the special forces, he decided to dial it back just a little to merely police units so his family would worry less. He is still 'on call' when it hits the fan but otherwise he likes the slower pace of merely armed bank robbery and chasing cars.
Specialties: Martial arts, Military and Police techniques. Speaks French, English and Japanese.
Equipment: Small apartment, mini fridge sitting under a crouching shower/sink.
No need for a car most of the time. If he does, he can always borrow from the auto pool.
His variation on the police issue baton, when his hands are not enough.
He keeps his standard police gear in the office under lock and key.
These boots multiply his running speed by double since his feline physique is already partially reminiscent of the design in play. Still, 240 on the freeway is nothing to ignore and more maneuverable than a motorcycle,
Other: