@Winter KittenIf that's the problem, wouldn't it be simpler to just give the reigns to one of your CO-Gms and become a normal player? That way the credit for the creation still goes to you and I don't think about what counts as "the entire thing" when trying to remake this.
Plus, that way, you could keep playing and nothing major has to change.
An akuma, a real life akuma. Holden's black pupils actually widened at the sight. He hadn't been sure, not when he first saw the creature scale the walls and take position out of sight but he could clearly see it now, the pitch black eyes consumed by darkness and the pointed tail whipping back and forth as it spoke the human tongue.
Needless to say, Holden acted quickly.
Now, Magnus may not be many things, but he is lucky; not as lucky as Longshot or prediction masters, but that little bit of chaos on his mother's side can be both blessing and boon. Leaning sideways he was letting the chair slowly rotate as he bent over backwards like a twisted cat to impress his flexibility when the first kunai sunk into the leather, right where the middle finger would be on his hand if he hadn't lost it earlier. That got him to act without burdening his mind with thought, a nearly zen state of reaction as he shot himself like a cannon out of the chair and over the table as the second kunai went soaring past where he once was.
The azure mutant did not even notice that it was a ninja tool being used on him yet, it could just as easily be gambits card, angels fletchings, or machine gun fire. He bounced his back on the stage and rolled into a splayed crouch. As he rolled, his hand brushed over the pouch fastening and drew his own weapon.
What he said next was not German but it would certainly make the asgardians blush and ponder the physical imposibility of Magnus's suggestion.
A suggestion that fell short of a sudden spray of smoke.
With a toss of the black orb, a cloud of mist enveloped the stage, making way when the assassin shot through the wall of black and gray with kunai in hand.
Magnus saw the knife in the chair finally, followed by the movement of the orb, now alert to the assault, and then all was obscured in mist. This way was familiar to him, intimately so. flipping his blade to an ice-pick grip, he threw himself straight up with both his legs and his tail for extra oomph. He felt something strike the heel of his boot and went with the strike to add momentum to his flip as he landed in the smoke again, on his terms.
Now he changed his speech to something far less celestial. "Shinobu wa, dete kimasu. Watashi wa anata o korosu tame ni nani no chumon o motte imasen!" Magnus did this for two reasons, first was to see just what sort of assassin he was dealing with, and second was to let him test the sound absorbency of the mist to adjust how to listen for approach.
He got his answer in the form of a faint whistle, all that was needed for a swift turn and step, ending with him falling back on his tail as the thin blade of a kunai knife cut through the air, gripped tightly as it came slicing apart the smoke but barely missing the mutant's neck who smirked as he got the second closest shave of the day.
"Akuma wa, sono seishitsu ni shitagau koto o chūmon suru hitsuyō wa arimasen." Blade at the ready, foot sliding back as the two ninja's stood in the midst of the man-made fog, black pupils scanned their target before accelerating, shooting forward with a flying knee.
Magnus pushed himself back up into a standing position as he heard the words and just like that everything made sense. He threw himself forward as well, seeming to attack with the knife in a wide hay maker stab, only for him to drop the razor sharp flute mid swing and go for a knife hand chop. the dropped kunai was grasped by the prehensile tail and tried to stab the other in his knee.
The blade thrust but missed its target, silvery metal cutting the assassin's leg as he adjusted, hand catching the tail right before it cut too deep as he hit the ground. He yanked the appendage and the force slid him beneath the mutant's legs landing behind him as Magnus' knife hand grazed the killer's chin.
"Watashi wa akuma no gozen, Watashi wa totsuzenhen'i-tai wa yo!"
"Uso..." The assassin responded, coldly. He went for the assault, ready to kill the demon once and for all.
But suddenly, he stopped...
"That's enough of that." A voice spoke from the clearing smoke.
Holden took one step forward before falling over, three needles sparking with electricity sticking out of his back as he lay unconcious on the floor.
"New recruits, not gonna say I'm disappointed but well.." Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, stepped onto the stage, bracelet still surging with sparks of tamed lightning as she watched the unconscious boy lie still. ", let's try and avoid anymore personal demonstrations, shall we?"
Magnus looked at the sleeping ninja as he disentangled himself and checked his tail for breaks or sprains. "You all saw it, that orphan attacked me!" he quoted from a webcomic he liked to read as he put his kunai away, taking one of the others as well for later as he went back to his seat. "One in the chair, another somewhere... the ball, and the one in his hand, or was it two?...sorry about that, um, I guess I should mention I am a Japanese speaking Shinobu taught by Psyloche? the Japanese was just to fill my foreign language requirement to graduate, and anime."
He took his seat, and the knife in it, putting them both away for now.
oh, dude, sorry i was just joking around, you didn't have to change the face claim if you didn't want to :O
Oh, Apokalipse, I didn't do it for you, I just remembered you said something about this earlier. No, I did it for a much more noble reason, one that will surely shock your very idea's of morality!
He looks way hotter to me this way, like, so much hotter!
And really, just kind of generally compare the two profiles-
Holden
"What type of magic powers this device known as…”T.V”?" - Holden (first day)
Dossier
Name:
Holden
Alias:
N/A
Codename:
Smoke
Gender:
Male
Age:
21
Ethnicity:
Japanese/German, Human
Place of Origin:
???
Sexuality:
Asexual? (Has no preference/ desires but does have the capacity to fall in love/partake in intercourse if it ever interested him.)
Ability Profile
Skills of Note:
Hand To Hand Combat This is Agent Holden’s greatest skill. He displays an advanced level of martial arts techniques not recognized by many at the school. If I had to place it, it seems like a strange mix of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Aikido, Taekwondo and Wing-Chun. Whatever it is, it was clearly beaten into him based off of footage taken from his time with The Hand.
He moves fluidly and completely on instinct like his body knows what’s happening before he does and his speed is incredible for a human being, taking down multiple enemies with his bare hands. Most peculiar is his knack for knowing where danger is like some kind of sixth sense even when it comes from behind him. It is as though always looking behind his back is second nature for him.
He is efficient and swift, capable of grappling someone twice his size to the ground or killing someone with a single strike to their nervous system. (A technique of The Hand that we were luckily not shown)
Acrobatics Agent Holden is capable of achieving some pretty high level acrobatic feats, displaying great agility and balance but that’s to be expected from a ninja. While usually his agility is used to focus his martial skills and pull quick and deadly maneuvers, Agent Holden is adept at using both his flexibility and agility to get from one place to another. Whether on a rooftop or through a construction sight, Holden will be someone hard to shake off.
Stealth Agent Holden, like most Hand ninjas, is capable of moving without making a single sound and can hide his presence almost perfectly. He is fully capable of walking up behind a normal person and doing something...unpleasant before they ever know what hit them. (How well this will work out on the other students here is something I wouldn’t mind seeing.)
Psychological Profile
Mental Evaluation:
Our interview with Mr. Holden was….brief, to say the least. While he displays excellent combat capabilities with an almost perfect sense of his surroundings, that seems to be as far as his knowledge on anything goes. He was easily confused by the workings of a television in the background and was unable to do anything on a computer leading me to believe that his previous care takers didn’t take the time to make him anything more than a killing machine.
He doesn’t say anything unless asked and didn’t have any questions about the situation he was in other than when he was going on his first mission. He doesn’t seem to care about anything other than going on missions and field work or really just doing what people ask him to. I can only think he was the most devoted of followers in his sect of The Hand and wonder what made him turn or if we can even trust him. He told me he spent his entire life training and almost dying and pushing past his limits, it must have been tough.
As for his mental state, while not knowing anything about the outside, he seems to quickly learn new things rather easily most likely part of that advanced awareness and adaptability mentioned earlier. Though, his learning rate is halted at people.
When it comes to emotions or anything that isn’t an object, he comes off as a bit of a dunce. He actually seemed genuinely shy when asked to talk to someone other than the instructor and when pressured, punched said instructor in the throat before disappearing into the shadows.
It took us a while to find him but we got it done.
It was actually astonishing to see the complete difference between the boy in front of me and the assassin I saw in the footage. The complete shift in body language, the cold sweat I saw as a student approached him and how he had to visibly keep himself from striking said student down, nothing like the cold and calculated killer I watched take down four armed guards.
This lack of innovation when faced with communication challenges means Holden is incapable of lying most likely why he’s almost undetectable when he’s hiding his presence. While his combat skills make up for his inability to lie or do anything else, really, I’m worried that this might impact his effectiveness in a team environment but we’ll see how that goes down the line.
Physical Evaluation:
Agent Holden is a Caucasian male standing roughly at 5’8, he has mid length messy black hair that he doesn’t pay very much attention to. It seems that whatever obstructions his hair style may cause to his vision doesn’t actually impede him in any way so he must be trained to fight without being able to see clearly.
Looking at him, Agent Holden’s entire body is meant for deception. One would think that with his lithe frame, he wouldn’t be able to do much of anything but do not be fooled. Underneath the long sleeves and baggy sweaters he dons are tight, lean and very toned muscle that allow him to release some good bursts of power when needed.
You’d never look at him twice if he were standing right next to you but that’s most likely the point.
On further inspection, Holden’s body is littered with numerous scars, it speaks of his skill how shallow some of them are many are bullet wounds. Agent Holden also displayed that he was double jointed, aiding his flexibility and acrobatics in the field.
Biography:
Holden was raised from birth to become a weapon for The Hand, he trained every day of his life in the martial arts and other such skills to better himself. His loyalty lied with his master who saved him when he was baby and left in a snowstorm.
Through his years of being alive, Holden began to realize that he had no passion for the Hand’s cause and just wasn’t into killing people. This left him empty and hollow, plus he constantly had weird dreams about faint lullabies and other strange shit that was really throwing him off. All of these memories get shaken loose when he encounters his first S.H.I.E.L.D agent whose appearance (mainly the eyes) makes him remember something he had long forgotten.
Eventually, the agent, after doing research on the guy that spared him, tracks Holden down and gives him some files, stating that he’s not that bad because he never killed anyone who got in his way, just the target. I mean, the killing is still not great but it showed that he would go the extra mile to spare someone and he only killed because it was the mission. The agent also shows Holden a picture of a necklace that makes the ninja flip out and run all the way back to the mountains to confront his master who reveals that he lied about Holden’s origins which is why Holden constantly felt uneasy.
Apparently, Holden was the master’s grandson and his mother was a hand ninja who defected to Kunlun, the mystical Chinese city of immortals. The master tracked her down and straight up murdered her before kidnapping baby Holden and taking him under his wing.
Holden isn’t pleased with this and decides that he can no longer be a ninja of The Hand, he flees the mountain and goes into hiding where he is finally found by the same S.H.I.E.L.D agent as before (the one with the eyes) who offers up a place for him at S.H.I.E.L.D academy so that he can figure out if he’s more than just a doll.
“Who are you?”
“I am no one”
“What are you?”
“A weapon?”
That’s how everyday he could remember started. Before that, he remembered only being cold..
Deep in the mountains, snow nipped at every part of a dying body, unforgiving frost lashing at its small frame as it lie helpless in a blanket just waiting for death to approach. A baby, a little baby with a strong cry that seemed to shout at the storm that he was stronger than it could ever be. Little baby Holden, fighting with his dying breath.
He had been abandoned there on that mountain, left to die because he was someone’s burden that ended up being too heavy to carry. He would have perished right there on those steps if not for the gates of the temple opening to reveal his one and only savior, the master.
The elderly man lifted Holden up and stared at his burning red face, surprised that a baby could even be alive for more than a minute out there but here one was, screaming, shouting for a chance to live, a fire in its soul that burned through the snow. The elder saw the strength in the baby’s eyes and smiled because he’d used such fire before. That’s how everything started, just a snowy on a very cold mountain.
After taking him in, the master began conditioning, he convinced the other leaders that the child could be a valuable asset to them and through the mystic arts of the Hand, he began to strengthen the young child and prepare him for his new life as their most useful weapon.
He knew the feel of a shuriken before he recognized letters, could track down animals before knowing basic math. His first broken arm was at the age of 5, he attempted to fight someone of a higher skill level than him and was rewarded for it with a proper beat down.
Training was not cancelled that day.
Go faster, be better, try harder, those were the words etched into his body with every strike he took and every scar he got. Day after day, year after year, all the while never breaking, never crying. He would succeed, he would be what his master needed. Everything moved smoothly but he couldn’t escape the nagging in the back of his mind that something wasn’t right, a whisper in the farthest reaches of his psyche that his story, the story he staked his life on wasn’t what he thought it was. Still though, he continued to train and threw those spells of discomfort to the back of his mind through constant meditation.
His first real mission as an assassin was a crime boss who had said too much about their sect. Holden was the one tasked with the deed.
Sneaking in was the easy part, he was light and small and already knew how to control his breathing as he made his way up the walls like a ghost, dipping in and out of the shadows as he shifted through the open air and across the rooftops. He remembered thinking that his target’s temple was very flashy and surprisingly small compared to the one in the mountains, he was glad his heat resistance training he had gone through had been plenty to prepare for this change in climate, because there was no snow on the large temple, it was all very different.
The hard part was what came after. He jumped off the last ledge and landed in the bedroom hall, the guards around him were never even alerted to his presence. He stepped into the bedroom without hesitation, his cold black eyes adapting to the darkness in moments as he approached. And then the hard part happened…
It was a simple creak of the floorboard that alerted him to the attack from behind. He jumped, flipping around to land in a crouch as he watched a figure step out of the shadows. It was his target, a boorish man, a man who had said too much. He towered over the young assassin and held in his hand a club, the large weapon seemed menacing in his big burly hands…
But Holden was not afraid.
The first slash cut the man’s achilles tendon, the next was halted by Holden’s swift retreat as he dodged the mighty weapon again and again. One swing broke through his defense and sent him flying but he didn’t scream, he didn’t even recognize the broken rib as he got up.
The man taunted him…..
The man laughed at him……....
He said he was going to kill Holden...……...
But Holden didn’t fear death!
He remembered his training, his teachings, his purpose, every movement beaten into him exploding forward in a flourish as he went airborne to stab the man in the eye, hand shooting out to cover his mouth so he wouldn’t alert the guards with his screaming. The last slash was to the man’s throat..and then he fell over, the loud thud beckoned the rest of the men but when they opened the door, they only saw the open window of the balcony and the bloody body lying on the floor.
Holden came back bloodied and worn but most importantly, he came back victorious. He later learned that his master was the one to tip off the target, he wanted to test Holden to see if he was ready for the more advanced levels of training he would have to go through which he had done with flying colors, the scars he earned wouldn’t be forgotten.
But even with this achievement, the hollowness didn’t fade..
More time passed, more battles were fought, more training was done and through it all, Holden grew stronger and faster, his knowledge of his inner chi giving him a step above average people in terms of physical ability. What truly made his master give him credit for was Holden growing mastery of the martial arts, his dedication to it. He learned techniques quickly and would allow any damage to his body that was necessary for him to achieve the desired outcome.
At first, his master thought it was out of loyalty but he soon realized that there was a sense of desperation to the actions. His young disciple was looking for something in the movements, perhaps hoping that he could find his center in the technique.
Holden’s eyes were always pitch black and lifeless, when he saw his reflection he wondered if there had been something missing, time was moving by and he began to realize that he had no passion for his sect’s work. He had no love of the demon they worshiped and only ever fought because his master told him to. But more than that, the nagging feeling he had about what his master told him never felt right.
His master realized then that Holden needed something to help him focus. He knew that Holden could not stay the doll that he wanted him to be much longer, lest he die simply because he has nothing to live for. It was foolish of him to believe that something without fuel could continue on forever so he had to supply Holden with something to fight for so that he would be the proper tool needed for The Hand’s success.
He would later come to regret this decision.
The master sent Holden to Hydra, an organization that worked with the hand constantly. There, Holden faced many new challenges, including taking on threats like enhanced humans, in-humans, cyborgs and all kinds of crazy shit! I mean...and a great many other new challenges.
See, Hydra was different from The Hand, they weren’t often silent and always seemed busy to gain power in anyway they could, his temple was always quiet with the only sounds ever being heard were broken bones and people training.
Agents of Hydra seemed to have a lot of down time and showed expressions Holden had never thought possible. Smiles, frowns, laughing, sounds he’d heard and things he’d never seen before, for the first time he felt out of place and wondered if this was what he had been missing, pieces of the world outside he had never seen before. The brothers and sisters of his temple always said silent prayers but these men and woman cheerfully cheered for Hydra like it was second nature. They explained to him their purpose and their reason and Holden decided that he would continue there, in the hopes that he might find he was looking for.
Killing though, felt the same. The other’s revelled in it but he couldn’t seem to be proud of his work like the others. It was all just another thing that happened. Just another order and it became slowly clear to him that the emptiness wasn’t dissipating in the wake of his deeds. He would think about what he did in his sleep, remembering each face so that he could etch them into his dreams the worst ones were always accompanied by a faint song in his memories.
It was on one of those nights that his world actually took a different turn, a change he couldn’t escape. What set things in motion was his encounter with a S.H.I.E.L.D agent.
“All hands on deck!”
Holden had been up and out of his room before the alarm had even gone off. He had shot up in bed with the phantom notes echoing in his head, his mind alerting him that something wasn’t quite right. He left, gearing up as he did so, and gained speed with each screech of the alarm.
He was running down one of the “temple’s”(facility’s) corridors when he saw the insignia. An eagle in a shield, the sign of the enemy strapped to every person in the group of five that stood in the hall, ready for the attack. An assault squad, armed with rifles, standing in the corridor. His eyes went dark. His hand went for the pack strapped to his leg. He inhaled the crisp air and gave a toss of a black orb to let it roll into the center of the group's formation.
“What the-” One of the agents started when his eyes caught sight of the strange object but by the time his eyes shot open in realization, the smoke bomb had already exploded.
And Holden was already moving.
“Shit, we’re under a-” A warning cut short by the assassin’s knife hand to an agent’s exposed throat. He spun to kick and struck the open leg of another before sweeping low to knock another off his feet and strike the last with a sharp elbow to the back of the leg, grabbing their gun as they buckled. They scrambled and the assassin moved faster in the smoke. Strike them down, strike them all down...
Disappearing into each shadow, blocking the flimsy strikes of the dazed to maneuver through the dark cloud and attacking every exposed joint to bring down another agent with precision.
This is what he was best at, what he could lose himself in, the hollowness afterwards almost didn’t matter when he was like this. Nothing seemed to matter with each movement breaking through his limits.
The cloud dispersed just as he made his last assault, slamming the last agent to the ground with a hand to his throat. As the last of the agent’s air escaped his lungs and he slipped into dreamland, Holden turned to the approaching footsteps from around the corner. Another attacker, dressed just like the rest, armed and dangerous and an intruder.
“What the hell happened here?” The first words out of the young intruder’s mouth before his eyes got a full look at who had done it. “Shit!” He raised his gun but a thrown helmet knocked it to the ground, stunning him in time for Holden to close the distance and hit a slide to land behind him. “Oh no!” Before the agent knew what was happening he was being lifted and slammed in a suplex, both bodies hitting the ground but only one having his helmet knocked clean off as he struggled to stand up. “Dammit, that hurt like balls!” The agent staggered to an all fours position, looking up in time to see a sharp fist hurtling towards him.
And then nothing happened.
Holden stopped mid punch..
He was frozen.
“Who...who...you’re..”
The young man had was just another agent, average blonde hair maybe an above average face but nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary..
His eyes though, his eyes reminded Holden of something, something important. He stared at the agent, the agent stared back and then Holden did something that surprised the both of them.
“Go.” He stated before throwing down another smoke bomb and just….leaving..
“What just happened?” The lone conscious agent looked around, hand running through his messy blonde hair.
Holden wasn’t the same after that, his dreams became clearer. The unwinding tapestry that was his mind was slowly coming back together, things he thought were dreams were turning into distant memories but it was all too foggy, to hard to pin down.
Much like himself, though a certain agent seemed to keep tracking him down on every one of his missions. Any time, any place, he was faced with the stupid mug of that idiot agent, always appearing when he didn’t want him to be. It was irritating and Holden had never been irritated before so it was yet another new experience for him. He had finally had enough one night, months later, when he cornered the rat on a rooftop
“Why are you following me?” He asked a very surprised and very pinned to the wall agent as he pressed on the young man’s collarbone with a fierce grip.
“Because you don’t make sense!” Blondie shouted back. He smacked the ninja’s hand away and glared at him, those emerald eyes shocking Holden for what felt like the millionth time. “You’re an assassin, right!?”
Holden nodded because the answer was yes..
“Then why the hell am I alive!?” He asked furiously. “And more importantly, why aren’t any of these people dead!?” And then he was tossing something, a file, Holden quickly grabbed it out of the air and looked through it. They were pictures, pictures of all the people he came across during his missions, all alive and well. “I was unnerved by your sudden disappearance when we first met, you had me but you just let me go, gone as quickly as you had shown up and it didn’t make sense.” He pointed at the assassin who looked up to cut through him with his cold black eyes. “What made even less sense was that I wasn’t the only one still breathing, my team was okay too. It made me think, who was this person and why would we be the only ones spared.” Their eyes met. “And then I learned that we weren’t the only ones spared, you spare a lot of people, infact, you spare everyone you come across except the target.”
“Other casualties are not necessary.” Was Holden’s monotone reply.
“Even when they shoot you through the leg?” The agent shot back. “You’re not what I thought you were and I don’t think you’re what you think you are.” He looked away. “You have restraint, skill, I might be looking way too far into this but maybe empathy too if you’re willing to go the extra mile just to let innocent people go.” There was a short pause, he wasn’t getting choked or beaten so he thought he must be hitting something at least.
“You are not here just to say that are you?”
“No, keep looking through the file.” And Holden did before he got to what the agent wanted him to see and froze again. “Yeah, I expected that reaction.” He turned away, smugly. “Now, I know there’s a lot of questions you have but I’m fully prepared to provide you with resources on the basis that you start giving me some much needed info on The Hand aaaaand you left the second I turned my back didn’t you?” He turned around. “Yep, yep, really should’a seen that comin.”
Holden couldn’t believe what he had found. The memories the files shook loose. He had to get answers, real answers.
And so he went home.
It was storming on the mountain again, like it was the first time he’d been there. Ice and snow roared and commanded its dominance over the rocky landscape. And yet, it was not what unsettled the elder who stood in the middle of the temple, the tap of his cane beckoning for the howling of the storm to continue. He feared not the roaring of the storm or the lash of the cold. He cared not about nature’s wrath.
*step*
Merely his own decision he made within them.
“So, you have returned?” The master spoke calmly, turning to face the approaching Holden. “And I see you have seen the light in ways I could have only feared.”
Soundless, Holden tossed his master the file. The elder retrieved it without turning around and smiled at what he saw.
It was a photo of a jade necklace with gold lace and intricate designs across a thin chain. A simple trinket really but it wasn’t the metal that made Holden’s world turn upside down.
“My daughter wore this necklace, did you know that?” The elderly man asked, standing to full height. “It was the first thing her enemies saw before she was upon them.” His eyes stilled and he shifted. “She was so promising and then I had to kill her, such a useful tool. You see, she was strong but pathless, had no knowledge of love for our great cause and so could not throw herself into the embrace of the demon as I have..” His eyes darkened. “Instead, she threw herself into the arms of the enemy, a fool of a man who thought he could dishonor me and tear apart what I had built!”
Holden stayed silent.
“She ran to KunLun, the city of immortals and our greatest of enemies, pregnant with a bastard child she hoped to keep out of my reach but she should have known there was nowhere for her to run from me.” The smile returned as he walked towards his pupil. “And there was no way to stop what I had planned for you.”
“You did not find me on the mountain?”
“No, I found you in your mother’s arms.”
“....what am I?” He asked quietly..
“You are a weapon.”
“Who am I?”
“You are my grandson.” The old man, the source of every lie, placed a hand on Holden’s shoulder.
And then, Holden, Holden the loyal servant, the obedient killer, stabbed his grandfather through the chest. He was silent and cold, the spurts of blood littering his body as he watched the life drain out of his former master. The hollowness inside him began to expand, devouring him in its entirety. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? What had been the point of everything?
He didn’t understand, not until he took a step back and watched his grandfather fall over, in his hand a knife hidden in his sleeves.
“You see, my child…” He whispered, words cutting through the storm as he gripped the last strings of life. “Your body was born to kill, born to snuff out danger and then take it down, whatever the cost.” His grip on the knife faltered. “Do not be fooled by this new information, your origin may have changed but you are still what you are; a killer, cold blooded and merciless, it is engraved into your body…”
“...never forget that…”
1 year later….
In a coffee shop located in the western coasts of Italy, a young man swept the floor, he didn’t know how to do anything else. The people there seemed nice, he wasn’t sure what nice was though so he couldn’t be sure. He only knew he had to sweep the floors and get the bagels, he was very good at those things so he thought he might be doing something useful, he liked being useful you see.
The owner of the little shop didn’t mind the young man much, only told him not to cause trouble. Of course the young man obeyed the rule to the best of his ability.
As the young man swept, the bell of the shop door rang, making him look up to see a group of men stepping inside. This part wasn’t as good. The young man had ended up in a not very good part of town. Perhaps he knew that when he got there. Men would constantly show up, demanding money that the shop didn’t have. His body was made for murder so he probably knew that and set up here anyway, just to keep his skills sharp.
That was a logical conclusion was it not?
The men walked inside like they owned the place and the young man supposed that they kind of owned the town so it made sense to have that sense of entitlement.
The largest one stepped up first.
“Ya know why we’re here?” He asked, believing himself intimidating. Now that was something the young man did not understand because they had been through this before and no one but the young man had been satisfied with the conclusion.
“Yes, do you want to fight again?” Holden asked, lifting up his head to look at the man with black eyes. “You were very fortunate last time, I did not think you would want to try again, at least not with this few people.” He took note that their were only three this time. “Oh yes, the others must not have recovered yet, do you think this was a good idea to come so soon?”
“You piece of shit!” The man roared and released a fist. It shot by the young man’s face, barely touching raven locks as he spun to strike the thug’s side with a sharp elbow. The held through gritted teeth even as the blow sunk into his ribs. "Goddamn piece of-" The larger man grunted but buckled all the same, just enough for the shop sweep to leapfrog over him and drop kick one of his friends in the chest.
One threat neutralized...
He spun again, knocking the larger man back to his knees just as he was getting up and hitting a knee to use the larger body for cover as two bullets sailed over head.
They brought a gun.
“Shoot him!” The leader demanded as he slowly regained control of his body.
The young man moved, dashing out from behind the larger man’s back to make a move for the armed thug.
Three shots, the first cutting his cheek, the second sailing through his pitch black locks while the last shot right over head as he hit the ground and slid to a stop, throwing his apron at the the shooter to blind him before finally closing the distance. He struck fast, heel palm striking the thug’s chin in an uppercut as his other hand snatched the gun away. The young man gripped the thug by his throat and slammed his head into the table, cold black eyes shifting to the largest man barely standing on his feet.
One threat left…
He raised the gun, finger on the trigger….and then let it fall from his hand and hit the ground.
Instead, he dashed across the floor to close the distance between him and his last target. He kicked off the ground, jumping off a table’s end to wrap his legs around the thug’s neck. He twisted his body, throwing the man to the ground as he landed on a knee.
All threats neutralized..
“So, I was right about you.” A familiar voice from behind him. The young man turned to face a certain agent with blonde hair and green eyes. “You’re not a killer by nature.”
“Incorrect, I have killed many people in nature.” Holden replied. “Many jungle missions and forested areas.”
“Aren’t you tired of running?” The agent questioned. “Running from me.”
“I am, I request that you stop chasing me.” Holden replied again.
“Well, that’s not gonna happen but my offer still stands every time.”
“To be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent?” He had been offered a chance like this every time the two met. Holden did not understand what the agent’s goal was or why he kept making the same offer. “What do you want from me?”
“For you to say “yes”?” The agent replied with a very high implication of “duh”.
“What do you care?”
“Because running is a very hard thing to do.” The agent wasn’t joking anymore. “Aren’t you tired?” He asked, taking a seat on a nearby table, hands in his pockets. “I know this is hard for you but I know where you can take a seat and not look over your shoulder every day.”
“You want me to join your attack force.”
“I want you to join a school, an academy, somewhere where you can learn who you are.” The agent met Holden’s stare. “Ya know, people say your eyes are pitch black but I see a fleck of blue in there.”
Holden thought about it because there weren’t other options, he didn’t care about being a hero but he feared the hollowness inside of him, it felt like each day he was going through some form of atrophy and would one day just stop moving all together.
He thought back to everyone he had ever encountered, how their goals were ultimately the same, how they all went about it the same way.
Even the man in front of him was part of an organization that made its post in lies but also by apposing the forces he had always affiliated with. S.H.I.E.L.D was a group of liars and thieves who did things for a cause he didn't comprehend. They were like the other affiliates he knew but were different in their approach some how.
Yes, that's right, they were different.
And maybe that difference would, finally, make a change occur inside of him.
“Yes.” Holden finally said to the blonde agent’s enjoyment. It was a very startling experience when he was gripped in a single armed hug. So startling that the raven haired assassin quickly threw him over his shoulder and slammed the blonde to the ground.
“That’s great! L-let’s go start you a new life!!” The agent wheeze/cheered as he lay flat on his back. “Ya got any questions!?”
“Yes,” Holden replied
“What is “school”?”
Extras
Likes:
Silence
Training
Accomplishments
Dislikes
Noise
People Who make noise
Whoever’s looking at him right now, he knows you’re planning his downfall, you will be the first to fall at his hands...
Equipment:
Uniform: Agent Holden’s uniform is a cross between standard shield gear and ninja armaments. It is a deep, navy blue, skin tight suit of flexible material, equipped with straps around the legs that hold a series of different tools.
Beneath the blue is a black suit the goes up to cover his mouth, acting as a thin layer of secondary protection and a face mask. The armaments on the outer layer consist of grey colored pieces of metal made to look like arm and leg guards respectively, much like a samurai without all the fancy designs.
The S.H.I.E.L.D insignia is clearly shown on the suit’s shoulders, something Holden has a problem with but doesn’t say so.
Smoke bomb: Small black orbs that release a plume of smoke, good for hiding your attack or simply running away
Kunai: Japanese throwing knives, good for taking out someone from a distance or
Shuriken: Throwing stars, these are used more for distraction than frontal assaults.
Combat knife: The only non-ninja like weapon in Holden’s arsenal. The blade stays in a dark blue sheath that comfortably sits snugly on the back of Holden’s belt, resting horizontally right on his waist.
Though it is a simple, military level combat knife, it was still engineered by S.H.I.E.L.D scientists so while not a godly weapon, it is very advanced; being as light and maneuverable as it is astonishingly sharp.
Apparently, being Asian gave him better formatting, a complimenting color, more pictures, better pictures, and a more in depth analysis of his skills and the weaknesses that those skills/ abilities possess.
Decided to make changes to my bio, nothing serious, no power additions or change in skill set, purely cosmetic. But ummm.....
when the white characters think they're the most badass ninja >.>
guy is judging you
...so yeah, about that...
well...
Holden
"What type of magic powers this device known as…”T.V”?" - Holden (first day)
Dossier
Name:
Holden
Alias:
N/A
Codename:
Utsuro
Gender:
Male
Age:
21
Ethnicity:
Japanese/German, Human
Place of Origin:
Kun’Lun: The city of immortals
Sexuality:
Holden has no natural preference towards either gender but also has no aversion to sex as a whole. While not romantic, it is not by nature but by conditioning through The Hand. meaning he is not aromantic by nature either. In short, he is” Holden”.
Ability Profile
[╫]Powers::
To begin, subject displays no superhuman attributes. While this is accurate, the subject does possess a set of abnormalities as a result of his mental and physical development being tampered by, and driven towards, The Hand. These meticulous efforts to create a weapon for their benefit have resulted in the subject displaying a number of above average traits. While none are on the scale of a superhuman, it is clear that they should be documented for the sake of assessment.
¤Athleticism
The results of The Hand’s training has put the subject on an olympic level in terms of athletic ability and physical/mental endurance. He is incredibly fast due to his light build, outperforming the average human in speed while still maintaining enough strength to incapacitate several grown men in close combat
¤Endurance
The subject shows an incredibly high tolerance for pain. While no more durable than an average human, he can still keep going after suffering a serious injury, part of this comes from his sharpened mind that let’s him block out the pain while the rest comes from a lack of self preservation I assume was born from the “lessons” he received daily at his temple.
¤Sharpened Reflexes
Due to The Hand’s work on his mental development through infancy onward, the subject possesses a supreme mental awareness when it comes to actively assessing combat situations while fighting. While nothing like those possessing super serum, the fact that all of the subject’s potential for education was spent learning the ways of The Hand means that his mind works differently from the average human.
He is constantly aware of his surroundings and has stated that he has the ability to, in real time, calculate an enemy’s weaknesses throughout the course of a fight. His mind seems to process information linearly towards the single goal of getting the mission completed which allows him to react fluidly an unhindered, even in the most dangerous and stressful of situations simply due to incredibly acute instincts sharpened through years of unyielding preparation, experience, and training.
It should be noted, however, that this form of thought, while cutting all distractions and honing his mental capacity, leaves him without any emotional depth. His sharp mind will cut through anything without mercy, a fact that I found unsettling when presented with the idea that he lacked his own morality and therefore could easily go too far.
[╫]Skills of Note:
¤Martial Arts
The subject’s predominant skill is a mastery of the martial arts. He is highly proficient in multiple forms of hand to hand combat, having an almost encyclopedic knowledge of techniques that culminate into a unique style classifying him as an advanced combatant. This knowledge, when coupled with his agility, analytical calculation and situational awareness, has proven more than potent enough to completely incapacitate a group of armed assailants with a startling efficiency. He fights fluidly and unhindered, every move he makes is a calculation leading into the next, constantly flowing forward towards the solution which is most often someone’s bones getting broken.
Along with his comprehensive knowledge in the field of average martial arts, Holden also possesses a set of techniques unique to his sect of The Hand that focus on instant kill blows by manipulating the nervous system and attacking pressure points. The knowledge of these pressure points and other vitals leaves him with a vast understanding of human anatomy, giving him a multitude of variables in how to proceed in his attack and a mental map of his opponent’s blind spots to break through their defense.
¤Acrobatics
The subject displays an advanced flexibility, balance, and agility, which allows him to perform acrobatic feats on par with olympic gymnasts.
For example, he was easily capable of scaling a ten foot wall before the instructor noticed and has proven to perform such feats as one handed handstands and other such balancing acts for an indefinite amount of time (we were forced to stop testing before he showed any signs of exhaustion). Interesting is how he integrates his acrobatics into his combat capabilities, a thought evidenced by his use of it to not only outmaneuver his enemies but confound them with sudden bursts of speed.
As part of his acrobatic abilities, the subject demonstrates, through both his advanced awareness and tactical efficiency, the ability to traverse through most kinds of terrain with his agility allowing him to get from one place to another in a matter of seconds. This gives him an acute adaptability to most situations. During field test, he was quite easily able to traverse our obstacle course in record time, unimpeded by each new wall or the constantly changing landscape. This ability to move through shaky terrain when combined with his stealth and martial arts prowess provides a number of different attack strategies that Holden takes full advantage of.
¤Stealth
The ultimate skill of The Hand, the ability to completely mask their presence in the darkness. As a former member and disciplined disciple, it is obvious the subject has honed this skill much like the others, being able to completely disappear, whether using a crowd of people or simple misdirect, Holden can easily mask himself to the point of being nearly invisible. What’s more, his movements are almost completely devoid of sound to the point that not even his heartbeat is audible, even when faced with superhuman hearing the likes of Daredevil. When this ability to mask his presence is combined with his nimbleness in the shadows, Holden can become undetectable.
The obvious flaw in this skill is that he is not actually invisible and merely hiding your presence may make someone overlook you but all things visible can be seen so it’s a skill best used in conjunction with the darkness. Along with this, people who are familiar with similar techniques or have been trained in arts that negate the effects of this stealth technique can beat it simply by being aware of it and knowing where to look.
Psychological Profile
Mental Evaluation:
Subject Holden is an odd case in that for all of his mental swiftness, strategic foresight and other equally, proficiently, deadly attributes displayed during combat, he is just as easily shown to be indecisive and thrown off when faced with everyday scenarios the average person could get through with ease. Not to take away from his abilities but it’s evident that his knowledge begins and ends with the “way of the ninja” and any other form of education was non-existent in his child onwards. Add to that his very limited interactions with the outside world, that weren’t about killing someone, and you have an inept individual who stares at T.V’s in astonishment and confusion.
Needless to say, I do not suggest he be sent for anything requiring and affinity for computers or technology.
He also clearly lacks any social grace. He says the bare facts and keeps to himself, he even reacted rather extremely when forced to interact with another student who was visibly afraid of whatever look Holden was giving him at the time. The subject did prove he was able to hold a conversation before becoming uncomfortable enough to actually strike and the flee from his instructor, resulting in an hour long search that only ended when he was left with nowhere else to go. While perfectly capable of adapting to combat situations, the subject showed a total lack of innovation when confronted with the trial of communication and quickly resulted to violence when faced with a situation he clearly didn’t understand. Through this and after further conversations, I’ve made the assessment that Holden cannot actually tell a lie and the the refinement of his other skills was an attempt to compensate for a distinct lack of ingenuity.
Again, needless to say, but I do not suggest he take on deep cover missions or anything similar to covert ops that actually deals with human interaction outside of combat. Fighting seems to be some kind of safe zone for him.
I mean it when I say it was a surprise seeing him after his field assessment, sitting in the chair across from me with an expression that said he didn’t want to be here. On the battlefield, the subject is a killer, a more than competent fighter and a sharp minded ghost of a combatant with the prowess to take on whatever you could throw at him. But here, in this small room, Holden presents a different side of him, especially when asked about his motivations for being here as even he does not entirely understand the full scope of what he wants out of this experience. In all honesty, I’m sure he’s only here because that blond told him to. From what i got from my questioning, I’m not sure there isn’t anything this assassing wouldn’t do were he simply told by his higher ups, which brings me to the next issue with this new candidate for enrollment.
His total lack of having or understanding human emotion.
Because while at times he may seem fragile or show signs of ernest confusion towards our modern world, there should be no mistake that subject Holden is, in fact, a trained killer and has no sense of ethics or morality and, unlike Romanoff, shows no signs of remorse for his actions during his time as an assassin. This predisposition originally had me reluctant to advise his inclusion in this program but when asked how he felt about the act of murder, the subject simply stated that he didn’t take part in it unless it was the mission, an answer that at the very least gave me the semblance of hope that I was not dealing with someone who was homicidal. He explained to me, directly and without a hint of hesitation, that he would kill anyone who he was asked to but received no joy out of doing so and never killed people not part of his assignment as they were not the mission. This logic, while lacking any trace of sympathy or empathy for human life does mean that Holden is, at least theoretically, safe for interactions with other students so long as they’re not forced.
Still, this complete lack of empathy and total willingness to do whatever it takes to complete his objective means that the subject will, without a doubt, commit any atrocity that gets the job done so long as he is not given orders to do otherwise. All in all, Holden is a potentially dangerous and possibly serious threat but he is an asset all the same. As a professional, I suggest he not be left alone on missions and have a set of eyes on him at all times.
Physical Evaluation:
Skin: Asian
Hair: Black
Eye Color: Black (An associate swears there are flecks of blue but I was unable to notice)
Height:5’6
Blood Type:O’ Negative
Body type: A lithe figure adorned with tight muscles, trained for deceptive bouts of strength to throw apart the enemy’s guard. He has numerous scars (a testament to his skill set is how many of them are bullet wounds) littering his body.
Special notes: The subject is double jointed.
Biography:
Holden was raised from birth to become a weapon for The Hand, he trained every day of his life in the martial arts and other such skills to better himself. His loyalty lied with his master who saved him when he was baby and left in a snowstorm.
Through his years of being alive, Holden began to realize that he had no passion for the Hand’s cause and just wasn’t into killing people. This left him empty and hollow, plus he constantly had weird dreams about faint lullabies and other strange shit that was really throwing him off. All of these memories get shaken loose when he encounters his first S.H.I.E.L.D agent whose appearance (mainly the eyes) makes him remember something he had long forgotten.
Eventually, the agent, after doing research on the guy that spared him, tracks Holden down and gives him some files, stating that he’s not that bad because he never killed anyone who got in his way, just the target. I mean, the killing is still not great but it showed that he would go the extra mile to spare someone and he only killed because it was the mission. The agent also shows Holden a picture of a necklace that makes the ninja flip out and run all the way back to the mountains to confront his master who reveals that he lied about Holden’s origins which is why Holden constantly felt uneasy.
Apparently, Holden was the master’s grandson and his mother was a Hand ninja who defected to Kunlun, the mystical Chinese city of immortals. The master tracked her down and straight up murdered her before kidnapping baby Holden and taking him under his wing.
Holden isn’t pleased with this and decides that he can no longer be a ninja of The Hand, he flees the mountain and goes into hiding where he is finally found by the same S.H.I.E.L.D agent as before (the one with the eyes) who offers up a place for him at S.H.I.E.L.D academy so that he can figure out if he’s more than just a doll.
“Who are you?”
“I am no one”
“What are you?”
“A weapon?”
That’s how everyday he could remember started. Before that, he remembered only being cold..
Deep in the mountains, snow nipped at every part of a dying body, unforgiving frost lashing at its small frame as it lie helpless in a blanket just waiting for death to approach. A baby, a little baby with a strong cry that seemed to shout at the storm that he was stronger than it could ever be. Little baby Holden, fighting with his dying breath.
He had been abandoned there on that mountain, left to die because he was someone’s burden that ended up being too heavy to carry. He would have perished right there on those steps if not for the gates of the temple opening to reveal his one and only savior, the master.
The elderly man lifted Holden up and stared at his burning red face, surprised that a baby could even be alive for more than a minute out there but here one was, screaming, shouting for a chance to live, a fire in its soul that burned through the snow. The elder saw the strength in the baby’s eyes and smiled because he’d used such fire before. That’s how everything started, just a snowy on a very cold mountain.
After taking him in, the master began conditioning, he convinced the other leaders that the child could be a valuable asset to them and through the mystic arts of the Hand, he began to strengthen the young child and prepare him for his new life as their most useful weapon.
He knew the feel of a shuriken before he recognized letters, could track down animals before knowing basic math. His first broken arm was at the age of 5, he attempted to fight someone of a higher skill level than him and was rewarded for it with a proper beat down.
Training was not cancelled that day.
Go faster, be better, try harder, those were the words etched into his body with every strike he took and every scar he got. Day after day, year after year, all the while never breaking, never crying. He would succeed, he would be what his master needed. Everything moved smoothly but he couldn’t escape the nagging in the back of his mind that something wasn’t right, a whisper in the farthest reaches of his psyche that his story, the story he staked his life on wasn’t what he thought it was. Still though, he continued to train and threw those spells of discomfort to the back of his mind through constant meditation.
His first real mission as an assassin was a crime boss who had said too much about their sect. Holden was the one tasked with the deed.
Sneaking in was the easy part, he was light and small and already knew how to control his breathing as he made his way up the walls like a ghost, dipping in and out of the shadows as he shifted through the open air and across the rooftops. He remembered thinking that his target’s temple was very flashy and surprisingly small compared to the one in the mountains, he was glad his heat resistance training he had gone through had been plenty to prepare for this change in climate, because there was no snow on the large temple, it was all very different.
The hard part was what came after. He jumped off the last ledge and landed in the bedroom hall, the guards around him were never even alerted to his presence. He stepped into the bedroom without hesitation, his cold black eyes adapting to the darkness in moments as he approached. And then the hard part happened…
It was a simple creak of the floorboard that alerted him to the attack from behind. He jumped, flipping around to land in a crouch as he watched a figure step out of the shadows. It was his target, a boorish man, a man who had said too much. He towered over the young assassin and held in his hand a club, the large weapon seemed menacing in his big burly hands…
But Holden was not afraid.
The first slash cut the man’s achilles tendon, the next was halted by Holden’s swift retreat as he dodged the mighty weapon again and again. One swing broke through his defense and sent him flying but he didn’t scream, he didn’t even recognize the broken rib as he got up.
The man taunted him…..
The man laughed at him……....
He said he was going to kill Holden...……...
But Holden didn’t fear death!
He remembered his training, his teachings, his purpose, every movement beaten into him exploding forward in a flourish as he went airborne to stab the man in the eye, hand shooting out to cover his mouth so he wouldn’t alert the guards with his screaming. The last slash was to the man’s throat..and then he fell over, the loud thud beckoned the rest of the men but when they opened the door, they only saw the open window of the balcony and the bloody body lying on the floor.
Holden came back bloodied and worn but most importantly, he came back victorious. He later learned that his master was the one to tip off the target, he wanted to test Holden to see if he was ready for the more advanced levels of training he would have to go through which he had done with flying colors, the scars he earned wouldn’t be forgotten.
But even with this achievement, the hollowness didn’t fade..
More time passed, more battles were fought, more training was done and through it all, Holden grew stronger and faster, his knowledge of his inner chi giving him a step above average people in terms of physical ability. What truly made his master give him credit for was Holden growing mastery of the martial arts, his dedication to it. He learned techniques quickly and would allow any damage to his body that was necessary for him to achieve the desired outcome.
At first, his master thought it was out of loyalty but he soon realized that there was a sense of desperation to the actions. His young disciple was looking for something in the movements, perhaps hoping that he could find his center in the technique.
Holden’s eyes were always pitch black and lifeless, when he saw his reflection he wondered if there had been something missing, time was moving by and he began to realize that he had no passion for his sect’s work. He had no love of the demon they worshiped and only ever fought because his master told him to. But more than that, the nagging feeling he had about what his master told him never felt right.
His master realized then that Holden needed something to help him focus. He knew that Holden could not stay the doll that he wanted him to be much longer, lest he die simply because he has nothing to live for. It was foolish of him to believe that something without fuel could continue on forever so he had to supply Holden with something to fight for so that he would be the proper tool needed for The Hand’s success.
He would later come to regret this decision.
The master sent Holden to Hydra, an organization that worked with the hand constantly. There, Holden faced many new challenges, including taking on threats like enhanced humans, in-humans, cyborgs and all kinds of crazy shit! I mean...and a great many other new challenges.
See, Hydra was different from The Hand, they weren’t often silent and always seemed busy to gain power in anyway they could, his temple was always quiet with the only sounds ever being heard were broken bones and people training.
Agents of Hydra seemed to have a lot of down time and showed expressions Holden had never thought possible. Smiles, frowns, laughing, sounds he’d heard and things he’d never seen before, for the first time he felt out of place and wondered if this was what he had been missing, pieces of the world outside he had never seen before. The brothers and sisters of his temple always said silent prayers but these men and woman cheerfully cheered for Hydra like it was second nature. They explained to him their purpose and their reason and Holden decided that he would continue there, in the hopes that he might find he was looking for.
Killing though, felt the same. The other’s revelled in it but he couldn’t seem to be proud of his work like the others. It was all just another thing that happened. Just another order and it became slowly clear to him that the emptiness wasn’t dissipating in the wake of his deeds. He would think about what he did in his sleep, remembering each face so that he could etch them into his dreams the worst ones were always accompanied by a faint song in his memories.
It was on one of those nights that his world actually took a different turn, a change he couldn’t escape. What set things in motion was his encounter with a S.H.I.E.L.D agent.
“All hands on deck!”
Holden had been up and out of his room before the alarm had even gone off. He had shot up in bed with the phantom notes echoing in his head, his mind alerting him that something wasn’t quite right. He left, gearing up as he did so, and gained speed with each screech of the alarm.
He was running down one of the “temple’s”(facility’s) corridors when he saw the insignia. An eagle in a shield, the sign of the enemy strapped to every person in the group of five that stood in the hall, ready for the attack. An assault squad, armed with rifles, standing in the corridor. His eyes went dark. His hand went for the pack strapped to his leg. He inhaled the crisp air and gave a toss of a black orb to let it roll into the center of the group's formation.
“What the-” One of the agents started when his eyes caught sight of the strange object but by the time his eyes shot open in realization, the smoke bomb had already exploded.
And Holden was already moving.
“Shit, we’re under a-” A warning cut short by the assassin’s knife hand to an agent’s exposed throat. He spun to kick and struck the open leg of another before sweeping low to knock another off his feet and strike the last with a sharp elbow to the back of the leg, grabbing their gun as they buckled. They scrambled and the assassin moved faster in the smoke. Strike them down, strike them all down...
Disappearing into each shadow, blocking the flimsy strikes of the dazed to maneuver through the dark cloud and attacking every exposed joint to bring down another agent with precision.
This is what he was best at, what he could lose himself in, the hollowness afterwards almost didn’t matter when he was like this. Nothing seemed to matter with each movement breaking through his limits.
The cloud dispersed just as he made his last assault, slamming the last agent to the ground with a hand to his throat. As the last of the agent’s air escaped his lungs and he slipped into dreamland, Holden turned to the approaching footsteps from around the corner. Another attacker, dressed just like the rest, armed and dangerous and an intruder.
“What the hell happened here?” The first words out of the young intruder’s mouth before his eyes got a full look at who had done it. “Shit!” He raised his gun but a thrown helmet knocked it to the ground, stunning him in time for Holden to close the distance and hit a slide to land behind him. “Oh no!” Before the agent knew what was happening he was being lifted and slammed in a suplex, both bodies hitting the ground but only one having his helmet knocked clean off as he struggled to stand up. “Dammit, that hurt like balls!” The agent staggered to an all fours position, looking up in time to see a sharp fist hurtling towards him.
And then nothing happened.
Holden stopped mid punch..
He was frozen.
“Who...who...you’re..”
The young man had was just another agent, average blonde hair maybe an above average face but nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary..
His eyes though, his eyes reminded Holden of something, something important. He stared at the agent, the agent stared back and then Holden did something that surprised the both of them.
“Go.” He stated before throwing down another smoke bomb and just….leaving..
“What just happened?” The lone conscious agent looked around, hand running through his messy blonde hair.
Holden wasn’t the same after that, his dreams became clearer. The unwinding tapestry that was his mind was slowly coming back together, things he thought were dreams were turning into distant memories but it was all too foggy, to hard to pin down.
Much like himself, though a certain agent seemed to keep tracking him down on every one of his missions. Any time, any place, he was faced with the stupid mug of that idiot agent, always appearing when he didn’t want him to be. It was irritating and Holden had never been irritated before so it was yet another new experience for him. He had finally had enough one night, months later, when he cornered the rat on a rooftop
“Why are you following me?” He asked a very surprised and very pinned to the wall agent as he pressed on the young man’s collarbone with a fierce grip.
“Because you don’t make sense!” Blondie shouted back. He smacked the ninja’s hand away and glared at him, those emerald eyes shocking Holden for what felt like the millionth time. “You’re an assassin, right!?”
Holden nodded because the answer was yes..
“Then why the hell am I alive!?” He asked furiously. “And more importantly, why aren’t any of these people dead!?” And then he was tossing something, a file, Holden quickly grabbed it out of the air and looked through it. They were pictures, pictures of all the people he came across during his missions, all alive and well. “I was unnerved by your sudden disappearance when we first met, you had me but you just let me go, gone as quickly as you had shown up and it didn’t make sense.” He pointed at the assassin who looked up to cut through him with his cold black eyes. “What made even less sense was that I wasn’t the only one still breathing, my team was okay too. It made me think, who was this person and why would we be the only ones spared.” Their eyes met. “And then I learned that we weren’t the only ones spared, you spare a lot of people, infact, you spare everyone you come across except the target.”
“Other casualties are not necessary.” Was Holden’s monotone reply.
“Even when they shoot you through the leg?” The agent shot back. “You’re not what I thought you were and I don’t think you’re what you think you are.” He looked away. “You have restraint, skill, I might be looking way too far into this but maybe empathy too if you’re willing to go the extra mile just to let innocent people go.” There was a short pause, he wasn’t getting choked or beaten so he thought he must be hitting something at least.
“You are not here just to say that, are you?”
“No, keep looking through the file.” And Holden did before he got to what the agent wanted him to see and froze again. “Yeah, I expected that reaction.” He turned away, smugly. “Now, I know there’s a lot of questions you have but I’m fully prepared to provide you with resources on the basis that you start giving me some much needed info on The Hand aaaaand you left the second I turned my back didn’t you?” He turned around. “Yep, yep, really should’a seen that comin.”
Holden couldn’t believe what he had found. The memories the files shook loose. He had to get answers, real answers.
And so he went home.
It was storming on the mountain again, like it was the first time he’d been there. Ice and snow roared and commanded its dominance over the rocky landscape. And yet, it was not what unsettled the elder who stood in the middle of the temple, the tap of his cane beckoning for the howling of the storm to continue. He feared not the roaring of the storm or the lash of the cold. He cared not about nature’s wrath.
*step*
Merely his own decision he made within them.
“So, you have returned?” The master spoke calmly, turning to face the approaching Holden. “And I see you have seen the light in ways I could have only feared.”
Soundless, Holden tossed his master the file. The elder retrieved it without turning around and smiled at what he saw.
It was a photo of a jade necklace with gold lace and intricate designs across a thin chain. A simple trinket really but it wasn’t the metal that made Holden’s world turn upside down.
“My daughter wore this necklace, did you know that?” The elderly man asked, standing to full height. “It was the first thing her enemies saw before she was upon them.” His eyes stilled and he shifted. “She was so promising and then I had to kill her, such a useful tool. You see, she was strong but pathless, had no knowledge of love for our great cause and so could not throw herself into the embrace of the demon as I have..” His eyes darkened. “Instead, she threw herself into the arms of the enemy, a fool of a man who thought he could dishonor me and tear apart what I had built!”
Holden stayed silent.
“She ran to KunLun, the city of immortals and our greatest of enemies, pregnant with a bastard child she hoped to keep out of my reach but she should have known there was nowhere for her to run from me.” The smile returned as he walked towards his pupil. “And there was no way to stop what I had planned for you.”
“You did not find me on the mountain?”
“No, I found you in your mother’s arms.”
“....what am I?” He asked quietly..
“You are a weapon.”
“Who am I?”
“You are my grandson.” The old man, the source of every lie, placed a hand on Holden’s shoulder.
And then, Holden, Holden the loyal servant, the obedient killer, stabbed his grandfather through the chest. He was silent and cold, the spurts of blood littering his body as he watched the life drain out of his former master. The hollowness inside him began to expand, devouring him in its entirety. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? What had been the point of everything?
He didn’t understand, not until he took a step back and watched his grandfather fall over, in his hand a knife hidden in his sleeves.
“You see, my child…” He whispered, words cutting through the storm as he gripped the last strings of life. “Your body was born to kill, born to snuff out danger and then take it down, whatever the cost.” His grip on the knife faltered. “Do not be fooled by this new information, your origin may have changed but you are still what you are; a killer, cold blooded and merciless, it is engraved into your body…”
“...never forget that…”
1 year later….
In a coffee shop located in the western coasts of Italy, a young man swept the floor, he didn’t know how to do anything else. The people there seemed nice, he wasn’t sure what nice was though so he couldn’t be sure. He only knew he had to sweep the floors and get the bagels, he was very good at those things so he thought he might be doing something useful, he liked being useful you see.
The owner of the little shop didn’t mind the young man much, only told him not to cause trouble. Of course the young man obeyed the rule to the best of his ability.
As the young man swept, the bell of the shop door rang, making him look up to see a group of men stepping inside. This part wasn’t as good. The young man had ended up in a not very good part of town. Perhaps he knew that when he got there. Men would constantly show up, demanding money that the shop didn’t have. His body was made for murder so he probably knew that and set up here anyway, just to keep his skills sharp.
That was a logical conclusion was it not?
The men walked inside like they owned the place and the young man supposed that they kind of owned the town so it made sense to have that sense of entitlement.
The largest one stepped up first.
“Ya know why we’re here?” He asked, believing himself intimidating. Now that was something the young man did not understand because they had been through this before and no one but the young man had been satisfied with the conclusion.
“Yes, do you want to fight again?” Holden asked, lifting up his head to look at the man with black eyes. “You were very fortunate last time, I did not think you would want to try again, at least not with this few people.” He took note that their were only three this time. “Oh yes, the others must not have recovered yet, do you think this was a good idea to come so soon?”
“You piece of shit!” The man roared and released a fist. It shot by the young man’s face, barely touching raven locks as he spun to strike the thug’s side with a sharp elbow. The held through gritted teeth even as the blow sunk into his ribs. "Goddamn piece of-" The larger man grunted but buckled all the same, just enough for the shop sweep to leapfrog over him and drop kick one of his friends in the chest.
One threat neutralized...
He spun again, knocking the larger man back to his knees just as he was getting up and hitting a knee to use the larger body for cover as two bullets sailed over head.
They brought a gun.
“Shoot him!” The leader demanded in staggered breaths but still the young man moved, dashing out from behind the larger’s back to make a an advance on the armed thug.
Three shots, the first cutting his cheek, the second sailing through his pitch black locks while the last shot right over head as he hit the ground and slid to a stop, throwing his apron at the the shooter to blind him before finally closing the distance. He struck fast, heel palm striking the thug’s chin in an uppercut as his other hand snatched the gun away. The young man gripped the assailant by his throat and slammed his head into the table, cold black eyes shifting to the largest man barely standing on his feet.
One threat left…
He raised the gun, finger on the trigger….and then let it fall from his hand and hit the ground.
Instead, he dashed across the floor to close the distance between him and his last target. He kicked off the ground, jumping off a table’s end to wrap his legs around the thug’s neck. He twisted his body, throwing the man to the ground as he landed on a knee.
All threats neutralized..
“So, I was right about you.” A familiar voice from behind him. The young man turned to face a certain agent with blonde hair and green eyes. “You’re not a killer by nature.”
“Incorrect, I have killed many people in nature.” Holden replied. “Many jungle missions and forested areas.”
“Aren’t you tired of running?” The agent questioned. “Running from me.”
“I am, I request that you stop chasing me.” Holden replied again.
“Well, that’s not gonna happen but my offer still stands every time.”
“To be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent?” He had been offered a chance like this every time the two met. Holden did not understand what the agent’s goal was or why he kept making the same offer. “What do you want from me?”
“For you to say “yes”?” The agent replied with a very high implication of “duh”.
“What do you care?”
“Because running is a very hard thing to do.” The agent wasn’t joking anymore. “Aren’t you tired?” He asked, taking a seat on a nearby table, hands in his pockets. “I know this is hard for you but I know where you can take a seat and not look over your shoulder every day.”
“You want me to join your attack force.”
“I want you to join a school, an academy, somewhere where you can learn who you are.” The agent met Holden’s stare. “Ya know, people say your eyes are pitch black but I see a fleck of blue in there.”
Holden thought about it because there weren’t other options, he didn’t care about being a hero but he feared the hollowness inside of him, it felt like each day he was going through some form of atrophy and would one day just stop moving all together.
He thought back to everyone he had ever encountered, how their goals were ultimately the same, how they all went about it the same way.
Even the man in front of him was part of an organization that made its post in lies but also by opposing the forces he had always affiliated with. S.H.I.E.L.D was a group of liars and thieves who did things for a cause he didn't comprehend. They were like the other affiliates he knew but were different in their approach some how.
Yes, that's right, they were different.
And maybe that difference would, finally, make a change occur inside of him.
“Yes.” Holden finally said to the blonde agent’s enjoyment. It was a very startling experience when he was gripped in a single armed hug. So startling that the raven haired assassin quickly threw him over his shoulder and slammed the blonde to the ground.
“That’s great! L-let’s go start you a new life!!” The agent wheeze/cheered as he lay flat on his back. “Ya got any questions!?”
“Yes,” Holden replied
“What is “school”?”
Extras
Likes:
Silence
Training
Accomplishments
Dislikes
Noise
People Who make noise
Whoever’s looking at him right now, he knows you’re planning his downfall, you will be the first to fall at his hands...
Equipment:
Uniform: Agent Holden’s uniform is a sleek bodysuit that functions as his primary form of protection while in the field.
The uniform’s outer layer is a form fitting body suit of black and navy blue, outfitted with black arm and leg guards reminiscent of samurai armor, though without any intricate designs, along with black shoulder and knee pads. These thin sheets of armor plating serve to increase the effectiveness of both arm and knee strikes while providing protection without giving up speed. Along with the small armaments are straps across his thigh and waist that hold various ninja tools. The entire suit comes equipped with an attached hood used primarily to hide his features in the darkness, as he’s adept at fighting without seeing clearly, the hood’s obstruction provides minimal issues though he will pull it down when deemed necessary.
The outer layer suit is comprised of polymorphic fibers that bend and stretch perfectly with his body, creating frictionless movement that doubles as skin tight body armor that can absorb small bouts of kinetic energy, slightly softening the force of punches and kicks but not by much.
As for the inner layer, that is comprised of a thin layer of black fiber that covers his chest and rises to above his nose, not only serving as a face mask but a regulation system that helps keep his body at a constant temperature. Stark Industries at their finest.
Smoke bomb: Small black orbs that release a plume of smoke, good for hiding your attack or simply running away
Kunai: Japanese throwing knives, good for taking out someone from a distance or
Shuriken: Throwing stars, these are used more for distraction than frontal assaults.
Combat knife: The only non-ninja like weapon in Holden’s arsenal. The blade stays in a dark blue sheath that comfortably sits snugly on the back of Holden’s belt, resting horizontally right on his waist.
Though it is a simple, military level combat knife, it was still engineered by S.H.I.E.L.D scientists so while not a godly weapon, it is very advanced; being as light and maneuverable as it is astonishingly sharp.
Also, for anyone wondering how I came back to life, allow me to give a thrilling explanation in the way that all fans of marvel comics are accustomed. Be prepared for a diatribe concerning not only multiple characters but a long lasting and thrilling conclusion of outstanding subversion of not only common themes in television and movies but also a genuine explanation that ties in and adapts several moving plot points thought to have no connection but now coming together to form this, a brilliantly cohesive story line with a fantastic pay-off!
..... ...... .... Retcon- I mean, Phoenix Force Yep.. Pheonix Force
I propose that characters who haven't "shown up" after a while are either "running late", "overslept", or they're simply late arrivals to the program, meaning the plane with them in it has yet to arrive.
That way, everyone doesn't have to have a introduction, we can have ours and then a plane with the rest of the new arrivals can show up and we'll be good for late posters without shitting on continuity....I like continuity...
